Lamarchos Read online

  Ignoring the three roped to the trees, the brothers gathered around the old man, kneeling beside Kale. Aleytys watched with interest. The white-haired man was an older edition of Kale, the resemblance startling as they knelt side by side. The others shared the elusive similarity of family likeness. She realized with a shock of surprise how very little she knew of this world. Immersed in its problems she had begun to accept her role here as an element of her own personality. Somehow it was easier to deal with this world if she thought of it as simply an unexplored section of Jaydugar. But occasionally one thing or another jarred her from her complacency. A triple handful of days … not enough, never enough to absorb the whole of a culture.

  The old man took the poaku from the bag, unwrapping each and handing them on to a son who reverently rewrapped them and placed them in a growing heap by his knees. When the first sack was empty the old one turned quietly to the second but shot a troubled glance at his son’s impassive face. Again he took the poaku out. As the slow quiet process went on, Aleytys sensed a growing impatience in all but Kale.

  Then the slanting rays from the setting sun gleamed along the amber and russet stone. She saw the stopping hawk uncovered. The old man’s hands trembled. “Soul-in-Flight. It has come home.”

  Holding the stone at arm’s length he rocked up onto his feet. Bowing deeply in front of Kale he took one hand from the stone and pressed it down on the top of his son’s dark head. “My blessing, Kale. You have brought honor back to Wolf clan.”

  “The stones are mine,” Maissa shrieked.

  The old man laughed. “Nonsense, woman.” Kale put a hand on his arm, drawing his father’s stare.

  “Makuakane, women have a different place where this one comes from. She doesn’t understand what she should be.”

  Maissa glared at them and began cursing in a dozen different languages while she tore futilely at the ropes.

  Kale glanced at her then walked over to Aleytys as his brothers tied lead ropes around the horses’ necks and prepared to leave. “I’d like you to understand, Aleytys.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  She saw a sheen of sweat dot his forehead. He moved his eyes from her, the tip of his tongue tracing the pronounced curve of his upper lip, looked briefly at Maissa still shrilling complicated obscenities, at Stavver cold and silent, then came back to her. “Nearly a thousand years of history, Aleytys. Gikena. Beat into our heads. Besides I …” He hesitated. “I have respect for you, Aleytys.”

  “Respect!”

  “If you can’t accept that, say I like you. Or say we share a common appreciation for living things.”

  “All right.” A breeze wandered under the trees and blew a tangle of hair across her face. She wrinkled her nose and tried to throw the tickling mass off her face. He brushed it back, tucked the straying wisps behind her ear, then dropped to the ground in front of her.

  Sitting crosslegged, eyes focused on her knees, he said quietly, “There’s a lot you don’t know about Lamarchos.”

  “I began realizing that some twenty minutes ago.”

  He began tugging at the wiry grass, pulling blades free one by one, chewing the tender whiteness at the base, then shredding the green into fibrous strips. “Gikenas come rarely. And even when they come, they stand outside the flow of life.” He lifted his head and smiled at her. “You know how women are placed here?”

  “I know I wouldn’t last long on this world.”

  “I doubt that.” He shook his head, then sat tossing the bits of green fiber over her dusty toes. “It’s as well you’re leaving. I can see you turning our calm lives into battle-grounds.” The sweat was back trickling down beside his deep crow’s-feet. “I don’t know how well I.… Never mind. Women keep the house altars, but men serve the poaku and keep the shrines of Lakoe-heai. Like my father. Especially the great ones, the numinous stones.” He stared into the shadow under the trees, seeing things from his memories that made him move uneasily, shifting the set of his legs.

  “The great poaku. They stay in shrines with their own lands, their own clans to serve them. Soul-in-Flight was served by clan Wolf, It was our purpose, the central aspect of our being, to serve the stone, care for the gifts and the lands and the horses sealed to Soul-in-Flight. In return the stone served as conduit between clan-head and Lakoe-heai. I remember times it healed, times it sat in the great hall humming gently to itself spinning webs of power no man but my father could read. Clan Wolf served year on year on year until the years added up to centuries. We owned nothing but used all and had poaku each of us to buy the Karkesh blades for our blooding.”

  Aleytys looked over his head at his brothers, watching as they led the horses into the clearing and stood waiting for Kale. Kale fell into silence as if reluctant to go on. “Your brothers are ready to leave,” she said.

  “They can wait.” He brooded at the shadows. “My father had a younger brother. He became … the ships of the Karkiskya laid a spell on him. He begged the Kapuna …” Kale nodded at the white-haired man who was slipping the poaku Soul-in-Flight into a special embroidered bag. “To buy passage on a ship and let him go to the stars.” Kale laughed. “To say my father didn’t understand is to call a rock cat pretty kitty. Besides we owned nothing ourselves. Everything belongs to the poaku. So …” Kale fell silent again. He threw back his head and gazed up at the streaks and strands of color. “I wonder.…”

  “Wonder?”

  “If I can narrow myself to fit this life again.” He shrugged. “He stole the Soul-in-Flight and bought his way aboard a starship. That was twenty years ago. I was a boy, the oldest son of my father. When the stone was taken we were cast out, of course. Turned out from service to the stone, the lands and horses given into care of other hands. Driven away to find some bare corner of the land where we might scratch a living if we could. No poaku for our sons, no bride price for our daughters.

  “My father sent me after the thief to make him pay in blood for the wrong.” A wry smile twisted up a corner of his mouth. “I never found him. No doubt the fool was soon eaten by some shark. So I wandered world to world until I finally met Maissa. Knowing what she was, the thought came to me to use her to break the Soul-in-Flight loose and take it home.” He pushed himself onto his feet. “From the beginning I planned this.” He began pacing back and forth in front of her, three steps to the east, three steps to the west. “I didn’t know about you then.” He shrugged. “The thing is done. My people have the curse lifted from them now.”

  Aleytys sighed, her anger having trickled quietly away in the course of the explanation.

  He found her silence disturbing. “Aleytys?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I see you’re much like me, Kale.” She nodded toward the laden horses. “You’ve got a lot of what your people count as wealth there. Take a few of those poaku and buy your way out of this trap.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that.” He touched her gently on the cheek. “If you weren’t quite so deadly, my dear, I’d keep you with me to make the fitting easier.”

  “Keep a bolt hole open, Kale. Stavver told me that and I respect his shrewdness. I couldn’t go back to my own people now. Even if they’d accept me rather than tying me to a stake and burning hell out of this body.” She sighed. “Your father is frowning.”

  He reached around the tree and pulled at the rope end. “I’ve loosened the knot. Don’t pull at it. Try to work the ends loose.” He touched her again then ran to his horse and swung up into the saddle. He grinned at Maissa while his mount pranced nervously. The cruel predator’s look was back in his face. He enjoyed taunting her. “Captain!” He flipped a hand at her. “Even your instruments won’t find us. Good faring and thanks for all your help.”

  The trees swayed as the earth rocked under their feet. Maissa gasped, looked with anxiety at the ship as it rocked precariously, threatening to topple on its side. Kale laughed, savage exultation in his dark face. “Our world gro
ws impatient for your departure.” He pulled the horse around and disappeared under the trees. The others, having said scarcely a single word, kept their dour silence and disappeared after him.

  “Work your hands around so I can see the knots.” Stavver’s voice was absurdly commonplace and calm. Aleytys burst out laughing then subsided as she heard the hysterical note in her own voice.

  After about a half hour’s twisting and straining, following Stavver’s instructions, she managed to work the ropes loose enough to pull one hand free. She stepped away from the tree, rubbing her sore wrists. “I feel like an arthritic old lady.” The earth rolled beneath her, sending her staggering. When the ground steadied again, she darted to Stavver. “We better get out of this fast.”

  “Lee, idiot. My knife. You’ll go a lot faster.”

  “Ay-mi, thickhead.” She snatched the knife from the sheath and began sawing at the rope.

  “Careful. I need all my fingers.”

  She chuckled, but calmed down and cut the ropes away with quick efficiency. When she moved on to Maissa, he walked to the box, rubbing his own wrists. He took the tools and chameleon web out, thrust them behind his belt and worked the box into the sling.

  When Maissa was free, Aleytys caught up the placidly sleeping baby and followed her to the ship.

  Maissa stopped at the foot of the ladder, staring without expression at the trees where Kale had disappeared. Then she slowly wiped her hands together and ran up the ladder. A minute later the chain tightened and the box began rising toward a cargo hatch.

  Aleytys moved close to Stavver, slipping her free arm around his waist, nestling close to him. “I scarcely believe it’s over.

  She felt him stiffen. “Not yet.” His voice sounded strange. “Look.”

  Through the congealing clumps of bacteria a grey sphere somewhat battered and blackened settled with a hum of power toward the ground about a hundred meters from Maissa’s ship.

  “The Hounds!” Aleytys clung to Stavver as her knees threatened to give way. “Why didn’t I dream them if they were this close?”

  “Up the ladder, Lee.” He boosted her onto the first rung. “Move!”

  On the screen in the bridge they watched the sphere settle to the ground, extruding two pairs of fins to hold it upright.

  Aleytys chewed on her thumb, frowning a little as she watched. “Can you break away?”

  Maissa shook her head. She clicked the nail of a forefinger against the glass of a telltale. “Damper field. Drains energy from engines. And here.…” The finger moved across the face of the console. “Pincers … tractors … they’ve got enough hands on me to hold a battleship.”

  “Then I better get us some help.”

  Maissa’s eyebrows rose.

  “Open the lock for me.”

  “Why?”

  “If I can get the earth shifting under them, can you hold this ship from going over?” She glanced back at the ominous grey sphere. “And would it help?”

  Maissa laughed, eyes dancing in her dark face. “That should shake the bastards up.” Still grinning she tapped one of the lighted squares. “Move your butt, woman. Get your little friends busy.”

  Aleytys stood beside the foot of the ladder, body stripped nude, hands flung outward. “You!” she cried, projecting demand, anger, scorn. “You called me sister once. You tricked me and used me. You owe me!”

  Thunder answered, sounding petulant and unwilling.

  She gathered her anger and flung it at them hot as ball lightning. “PAY!”

  She felt an answering anger swirling around her. “Pay!” she demanded. “You owe me. Shake that ship over and we’ll be quits.”

  The earth groaned beneath her feet and thunder groaned in the sky. She sensed a grudging acquiescence. “Good!” She broke the contact with the earth and ran back up the ladder.

  Maissa turned when she came back into the bridge wrapping her batik around her. “Well?”

  “Wait.” She moved to the screen. “Look.”

  They saw the Rmoahl ship begin to rock in gradually widening arcs as the earth shifted and slipped beneath the landing fins. Maissa worked busily to keep her own ship upright as the outriding waves of the earthquake passed beneath them. She kept breaking into happy little chuckles as she watch the sphere struggle. “They waited too long. Ah … ah … ah.…”

  A crack opened, swallowing one fin so that the Hound-ship tilted and swayed, then crashed heavily on its rounded side.

  Maissa thrust Aleytys back from the console. “Get down. Hold on. Both of you.” She ran her hands rapidly over the sensors, throwing the ship into the air, it seemed to Aleytys, by force of her will alone. The surface of the world retreated until it was a mottled marble hanging against the velvet dark of space. The little ship swam invisibly through the layer of sensory probes, past the circling Karkesh stingships swarming around hunting for the intruder that had ghosted down setting off enough alarms to stir up the security forces of the whole world. Maissa’s ship skimmed through them and darted rapidly toward the zone of FTL conversion.

  After conversion Maissa swung around and stretched luxuriously, smiling brilliantly at Stavver and Aleytys. “I believe I swore I’d take you two wherever you wanted. I!kwasset, wasn’t it?” She raised her brows at Stavver.

  He jumped easily to his feet, his dark-dyed face changing as Maissa’s had changed. This was his world as much as hers. His grin met and matched hers.

  Quietly Aleytys got to her feet, watching them expand, throwing off the world-life like some smothering blanket, both of them growing stronger as if the engines that drove the ship fed them as much as they fed the ship.

  Forgotten for a moment, Aleytys moved quietly to the screen and watched the dance of the stars across the blackness, letting the sheer beauty of them heal the hurts in her. Then she turned away. “Sharl’s probably wet and hungry. And I need a bath. Oh god, do I need a bath.”

  Stavver laughed and ran his fingers through her hair. “I like you better as a redhead, Lee. Come on. We can get rid of this dye along with the dirt.

  EPILOG

  Aleytys woke slowly, a dull ache behind her eyes. She was lying on the floor … a floor? She worried at this oddity a moment, but thinking hurt so she quit. She sat up carefully then leaned against the wall pressing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. The pain retreated.

  She looked dully around. The walls were pink. Ceiling, floor … pink. Padded until it felt like spongy flesh beneath the firm smoothness of pink skin. The fourth side of the room wasn’t there. She was in a padded pink box tipped on its side with the top gone. Why was it so … familiar … why.…

  “Madar!” She slid her hands over over over the smooth sensuous skin. I’m dreaming. she thought. It’s that damn dream again. Since I reached puberty. Waking up naked.… She looked down at herself. Naked. In a stupid pink room. Oh god, I’ve got to wake up.

  Trembling and uncertain, she crawled to the wall and managed to push herself onto her feet. Wake up wake up wakeupwakeup.…

  She beat against the wall. It yielded spongily with a dull splatting sound. A dull splatting sound? “Ahai! It isn’t a dream.” Her eyes snapped open. “Maissa!” she shrieked. Then her knees folded under her and she bounced onto the floor. Laughter trickled from her in sudden bursts. “You can’t lie to me, Maissa. Ay-mi, what fool. I don’t trust you now, Maissa. So I won’t give you a chance to hurt me. What a laugh! If I let you do me after this, I deserve it. God, do I deserve it.”

  Cautiously, hand pressed against the wall to steady her, she got back on her feet and tottered around the room to the open wall, intending to make her way down the corridor visible outside and find some answers to make sense out of this mess.

  She slammed into a transparent hardness. Her knees gave way and she tumbled in a heap onto the yielding floor. When the dizziness retreated she reached out and explored the opening with a shaking hand. Some substance harder than glass and far more transparent blocked it. With a whimper of frustration
she slammed her fist against it. Sucking at the reddened spot along the side of her hand she sank to the floor and stared hopelessly at the unreachable corridor.

  Time passed. Perhaps she slept. She wasn’t sure.

  “Lee!”

  She lifted her head. Stavver stood outside. His voice came to her as if there was nothing between them, adding one more facet to her confusion. “Miks!” She jumped up. “Where am I? What happened?” She flattened her hands against the transparency. “What is this that holds me in here? What am I doing here? What.…”

  “Hush, Lee. Calm down and listen.”

  “Calm down?” She brushed distractedly at the red hair tumbling over her face. “Get me out of here!”

  He ran a hand nervously across his face. He looked himself again, tall and thin, a mop of moon-white hair tumbling over pale grey-blue eyes. She could see the blue veins pulsing at his temple, webbing the backs of his thin hands. “Aleytys, shut up and listen.”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it trickle out again. “What about a few answers?” As her hands closed into fists behind her back, a headache pain began to beat behind her eyes.

  Stavver glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Leyta, I’ve bought a few minutes with you. Old I!kuk gets the oboloi where he can. Listen. You’re in the slave pens of I!kwasset.”

  “Slave pens!”

  “Don’t interrupt. Maissa tricked me. When I was hunting down … never mind names … she drugged you, hauled you here and sold you, claiming you owed her passage money. When I got back the ship was gone.”

  Aleytys swallowed, a new fear hollow inside her. She opened her mouth but the words were tangled in a lump blocking her throat. She licked dry lips. “Sharl?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “She took him with her,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, Lee.”

  “Miks …”

  “He’ll be all right. Leyta. He’s your son.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Get me out of here.”

  “No way, Leyta.”

  “You’re the best thief.”