Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (29 page)

“Severns says you’re still suffering occasional hallucinations. I’ll wait until—”

“Get your ass up here. I’m telling you, I’m fine!”

“Well, you do sound better. But I can’t, Tahn. Not for a while. Get some sleep. I’ll arrange a meeting as soon as I can.”

He leaned a shoulder against the wall, squinting curiously at the com box. He had the overwhelming urge to ask Baruch why the duct in his cabin was still open. But that would be insane. Baruch had probably overlooked it in the melee of refugees and intership war—
and if so, Cole would be able to use that duct once and only once.
He had to pray Baruch never noticed and he could save it for just the right moment to get to his crew.

“Affirmative, Baruch. Tahn out.”

Haggardly, he pushed away from the wall and walked to the center of his cabin. Raising fists over his head, he glared helplessly at the dim light panels. Carey had told him Baruch had reconnected the long-range link.

“Name of God, Slothen! Why haven’t you tranned us demanding an explanation for our failure to report on the Horeb mission?”

It made no sense. No sense at all. His mind danced around the issue. It had been five days, for God’s sake! Did nobody …

He stopped, slowly lowering his fists. But Palaia would have tried to tran. Unless they suspected something had gone wrong.

A tingling flush taunted him. He forced his fuzzy mind to think. How many cruisers had been in the approximate vicinity a week ago? He remembered checking the flight plans.
Jataka. Scipio.
Had there been others?

Hope welled so powerfully, his knees shook. He walked to his table to ease down into a chair. Maybe, just maybe, the cavalry stood on the hill overlooking the
Hoyer
at this very instant.

Excitedly, he shouted,
“Yes! Brent
…”

The room seemed to tip sideways, walls warping as though seen through a series of distored mirrors.
“Cole?”
Maggie’s voice cried pleadingly.

“No. No!” He lurched unsteadily to his feet, grabbing his head between his hands as though to press the memories back inside. But the images rolled over him like a powerful wave: Slothen’s misshapen face at the
Annum
Inquiry. The haunted eyes of the crew, his friends, as they were marched from the huge room. His own voice demanding, “Slothen! It wasn’t their fault. Magistrate, if you have any shred of decency you must see …”

His feet went out from under him. Minutes, or maybe hours, later he found himself lying on his floor, knees pulled up, head tucked.

The sick dread that filled him left him unable to get up. He rolled to his stomach and buried his face in his sleeve.

Sybil sat on the floor in the corner of their cabin, pretending to play with the checkerboard Ari had given her. She moved a red piece here and a black there, all the while keeping an eye on her mother. Something had happened to her, something bad, Sybil could tell. Though her mother had just showered and dressed in a beautiful cream-colored robe, sweat glistened across her nose. Sybil sighed and regarded her secretly. Deep inside, she felt afraid, though why, she couldn’t say. But her mother felt it, too—her eyes gleamed darkly and she paced their cabin as though expecting the Magistrates to swoop down and kill them all at any second.

Sybil fiddled with another checker, shoving it aimlessly across the board with one finger. The room had been so very still and quiet, she ached to hear any word. The moments seemed to drag by as though she waited for something terrible. She’d tried talking to her mom about what the polar chambers had been like, or what had happened with the Mashiah in the palace, but her mother answered shortly as though Sybil were disturbing her, so she’d mostly stopped talking. It hurt deep inside, this strange scary silence and the haunted look on her mother’s face. Loneliness tormented Sybil. She felt more lonely now, with her mother in the same room, that she had when she’d know her mother stood thousands of miles away in the polar chambers with the Mashiah.

Bravely, Sybil ventured, “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you scared? You look scared about something.”

Her mother frowned.

“Are you scared, Mom?”

“No, baby. I’m just tired.”

Sybil figured that was true, because her mom had terrible nightmares every time she closed her eyes. Sybil hadn’t gotten very much sleep either because of them. “But you keep twisting your hands and walking around like you’re afraid to sit down for even a little bit. Like you think something might get you if you do. You’ve been studying those security files all the time. Are they making you feel bad?”

Her mother folded her arms tightly over her chest. “I’m just worried, Sybil, that’s all.”

“You mean about learning enough to be good at security, or about the Magistrates coming to take the
Hoyer
back?”

Her mother swung around, mouth open. “Where did you hear that? Did Ari and Yosef—”

“No.” Sybil nervously fiddled with another checker piece, lowering her gaze so she wouldn’t have to see her mother’s eyes. “No. I—I had a
funny
dream about it.”

“Dream?”

She grabbed her mother’s hand, bringing it down to kiss it lovingly, before pressing it to her cheek. “I know you always told me dreams weren’t real, but I dreamed the Magistrates were coming in big ships to hurt us.”

Her mother’s eyes went glassy as though she were seeing something faraway. “When did you dream that?”

“Yesterday.”

“How many ships were there in your dream?”

Sybil cocked her head, trying to count the ones she’d seen. “I don’t know, Mom, maybe fifteen or twenty.”

“Oh,” her mother laughed as though in relief and patted Sybil’s cheek. “Well, don’t worry about your dreams, sweetheart. Jeremiel will keep us safe.”

Sybil formed the blue fabric of her pant leg into a peak and smoothed it away, thinking all the while. She wanted to tell her mom that sometimes people couldn’t, no matter how hard they tried, but she figured her mom didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Her mom had that faraway look in her eyes again. When they’d lived on Horeb and Sybil had had
a funny
dream, she’d run into her parents’ room and crawled into bed between them. They’d both put their arms around her and patted her until she went back to sleep. The closeness had chased her fears away. She had the urge to ask her mother to hold her now, but somehow, she didn’t think it would work anymore. Her mom seemed too nervous and frightened herself to comfort her. “If it’s not the Magistrates that are worrying you, what is it?”

“Oh, I—I just… I’ll get over it. Don’t worry, baby.”

Sybil thought about that for a while, wondering why her mother wouldn’t tell her. They used to talk all the time, telling each other their most horrible secrets. But that was back before her daddy got killed. She swallowed the hurt that rose like a suffocating bubble in her throat. Things had changed. Sybil tried to think of something to say to make her mom feel better, but before she could, a deep voice rang out from the com box.

“Rachel? It’s Avel Harper. I have a message from Jeremiel for you.”

“Avel!” Sybil yelled in excitement. He’d kept her safe when her mother had gone away to kill the Mashiah. He’d played with her and treated her like his own little girl. Her anxiety briefly changed to joy.

Her mother went to the door and palmed the patch. Stark white light from the hall streamed into their dim cabin, making a huge rectangle on the floor that stretched to touch Sybil’s checkerboard. Avel stood tall and thin in the entryway, black hair shimmering in a halo around his head. His tan robe looked startling pale against his mahogany skin. One of the guards who constantly stood in the hallway peered over his shoulder.

Sybil got to her feet and ran to Harper, happiness overwhelming her. She swerved around her mother to grab his legs. “Avel! I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”

He knelt and gathered her into his arms to kiss her hair. “I’ve missed you, too, Sybil. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you before now, but Jeremiel has kept me running.”

She smiled up into his face, then patted his dark cheek affectionately. “It’s okay. I’m glad you came today.”

He kissed her forehead again and looked at her mother. The lines around his eyes crinkled. “How are you, Rachel?”

“All right, Harper. Is something wrong?”

“No, don’t worry. It’s just that Jeremiel wants to meet you briefly tonight. You’re scheduled to report for security duty on level four tomorrow morning. Is that all right with you?”

Her mother’s pretty face hardened. “Yes, of course. When does he want to meet me?”

“In his cabin at 1900 hours.”

“Tell him I’ll be there.”

Sybil felt ill watching her mother drop her gaze and walk unsteadily back to stand in the center of the room. She folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. Avel’s brows drew together, but he squeezed Sybil’s shoulder warmly.

“One other thing, Rachel?”

“Hmm? What?” Her mother turned halfway around, grimacing as though she hadn’t really heard the question.

“There’s someone I’d like Sybil to meet. Would you mind if I take her down the hall? We’ll be in cabin 1911.”

Sybil bit her lower lip, wondering what was going on. “Who, Avel?”

He winked at her. “Someone I think you’ll like. He’s a little younger than you, but not by much.”

“Another kid? Oh, Avel, that’s wonderful! I
need
somebody to play with. Can I go, Mom? Can I?” She bounced hopefully. “Please, Mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but call me if you’re going to be gone for more an than hour.”

“I will.”

Sybil charged into the hall, grabbing Avel by the hand and dragging him down the white corridor. Guards stood at each intersection of corridors, rifles held across their chests. Once outside that forebodingly silent cabin, her dread lifted like mist in the morning sun. “Who is he, Avel? Did he live on Horeb? Maybe I went to school with him. What’s his name?”

Avel dutifully allowed himself to be led along, smiling. “I don’t think you know him. He lived on Kayan. His name’s Mikael Calas.”

“Calas like Yosef?”

“Yes, he’s Yosef’s nephew.”

“And he’s seven? When’s his birthday?”

“I don’t know for sure, but you can ask him.”

Sybil wanted to race down the hall to Mikael Calas’ cabin find And him by herself. But she didn’t, knowing that would probably hurt Avel’s feelings. He’d want to introduce them, she figured. Grown-ups were like that. Once they’d planned something, they hated to have a kid mess it up. She forced her steps to slow to match Avel’s.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Avel. I haven’t felt very good.”

“Why not? Are you sick?” He lowered a hand to feel her forehead, checking for fever.

“I’m not sick. I mean I haven’t felt very good inside my heart.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. He looked down at her in a kind way and for awhile they just walked, looking at the white walls. “Are you worried about your mom?”

Sybil wiped a hand under her nose and studied her feet. “She’s not like she was before she went away to kill the Mashiah, Avel. She’s different.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, she’s … quieter. She hasn’t talked to me very much.”

He pulled her closer and stroked her face gently. “Well, you have to give her some time. She’s trying to learn a whole new job and probably still thinking about what happened on Horeb. It wasn’t easy for her, you know? Killing—”

“But she hated the Mashiah!”

“Hatred doesn’t make killing easy, Sybil.”

She thought about that. Avel squeezed her hand. “How long do you think it’ll take her to get back to normal?”

“Oh, that’s hard to say. But I’ll bet she’ll be pretty much her old self in a month or so. Can you wait that long?”

She nodded. They passed another guard who smiled down at Sybil. She smiled back and looked up at Avel. “I’ll be extra nice to her. Maybe that’ll help her to get over it sooner.”

“I suspect that will help a lot. You’re the most important thing in her life, you know?”

“I know. She’s my best friend, too.” Sybil exhaled a relieved breath. She’d forgotten that because her mother acted so much like a stranger, but now she remembered again and felt better. Sometimes friends had to be quiet with each other so the other could think hard.

As they neared cabin 1911, two guards appeared, each carrying a rifle. Sybil brushed brown curls out of her eyes, wetting her lips as Avel guided her through the crowd and rang the door com.

“Mikael? It’s Avel Harper. I brought Sybil, just like I promised.”

“Just a minute,” someone said excitedly from within.

That voice!
Sybil’s knees went suddenly weak. Where had she heard it before? Deep inside, she felt she’d always known his voice.

In a few moments, the door slipped open and a little boy with black curly hair and wide brown eyes stared at her. He was dressed in a lime green robe, and had a shy smile on his oval face. Sybil’s insides shriveled.
She knew him.
He’d been in hundreds of
her funny
dreams.