Alien Chronicles 3 - The Crystal Eye (49 page)

“What was that big speech. Ampris?” he asked. “That big speech about no violence, eh? What was that about volunteers? You wouldn’t choose who would die? You’d let people make their own choice? Well, what about this? Which of us chose this? You tell me that, Ampris. You explain that to me.”

A Kelth farther back stood up. “We’re all in danger now. Our families. Innocents who don’t even know about us. They struck at everyone they could.”

Nashmarl stepped forward, his green eyes shocked and angry. “The Kaa won’t let us go. After all this, she’ll never let us go, Mother. You’ve risked our lives for nothing.”

Foloth joined him. “You showed us to her like we were
things.
You said you knew her. You said you could persuade her to give folks their freedom. You were wrong.”

Velia rose to her feet, her eyes filled with anger. “You’ve stayed here, safe, while everyone else takes terrible risks. Are you planning to be the Kaa of the abiru?”

“Velia, hush,” Elrabin said sharply.

“I won’t hush,” Velia retorted. “I have the right to speak too. What kind of crazy idea was this, talking folks into poisoning themselves, into dying of the fever, just so she could scare the Viis.”

“She scared them, all right,” Harval rumbled. “Right into a massacre.”

“They been slaughtering abiru anyway,” Elrabin said fiercely. “Only you ain’t been seeing it. What about the deportations to the death camps? Only difference today is they let us see the killings.”

Harval snarled at him and started to answer, but Ampris rose to her feet and faced the angry assembly.

The room slowly quieted to let her speak. She looked at their angry, resentful faces, and her heart ached for them.

“You have every right to be angry and afraid,” she said. “This has been a horrible retaliation, something I hoped would not happen.”

“She hoped it wouldn’t happen,” someone muttered. “Now I feel much better.”

Nashmarl scowled at Ampris and turned away sharply.

Ampris tried to ignore the criticism. “It doesn’t surprise me, though,” she said, making her voice carry clearly to every corner of the large room. “We all know what the Viis are capable of doing. We went into this knowing there would be risks, terrible risks. I warned you that freedom is not easy to achieve.”

“Looks like it’s impossible!” yelled the Kelth in the back.

Ampris looked right at him. “You swore to die if necessary.”

Nashmarl glared at her. “And what about you, Mother? You must be a coward, because you haven’t risked anything. You haven’t been out there, fighting. You haven’t—”

Elrabin gripped his arm and pulled him away from her. “Shut up, cub!” he said while everyone else stared at Nashmarl in shocked silence. “Your mother was a champion. Don’t you talk to her like that.”

Wounded by Nashmarl’s accusation, Ampris closed her eyes a moment. She had thought her relationship with Nashmarl was improving lately, but now she realized their apparent progress was just illusion.

“The Crimson Claw ain’t never been no coward,” someone said.

Ampris stood there, trying to remember what else she’d been about to say to these people. But her words of encouragement and solace had dried up in her throat. She found herself unable to continue.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, her voice filled with emotion. “I never quit in the arena until it was over. I can only tell you now that for me, this fight is not over. I will not quit until I have done all that I can.”

Turning away, she limped from the room, leaving them quarreling and shouting behind her. As her eyes blurred with tears, she dragged herself wearily upstairs to her room and locked herself inside.

It was a small space, containing only a cot, a tiny table with a lamp cube, and a stool. The window was boarded up, allowing no light to escape outside.

She stood there a moment, then sank onto the stool and wept.

A soft tapping sounded on her door. “Goldie?” asked Elrabin. “You okay in there?”

Ampris lifted her head. “Please leave me alone,” she said.

“You been doing your best,” he said through the door. “Better than anyone else. Don’t you lose hope on us now.”

“Thank you,” she said flatly. “Please go.”

He waited, but she only sat there, locked away, with tears running silently down her muzzle. Finally she heard the soft patter of his departing footsteps. She sighed and rubbed her face.

All along she’d had doubts. She’d managed to hide them because she needed to look strong in order to keep the others encouraged. But now there was no more reason to hide. Even her own sons thought her wrong, a coward.

Perhaps her vision was a false one, she thought, her mind crowded with doubts. Perhaps she’d been deluding herself for years, believing in something that could never be. After all, who was she to think herself a leader?

And what kind of genetic demon had Ehssk bred into Nashmarl, that he could be so cruel?

She clutched her Eye of Clarity, so tired and disheartened she wanted to give up everything. Perhaps, she thought bitterly, it would have been better if she’d just let the patrollers kill her in the street this afternoon.

But the Eye began to glow inside her hands. She turned out the lamp cube and cupped the Eye on her palm, watching its white, eerie light grow brighter until it illuminated the small room.

The pain in her heart felt heavy, and she was so very tired. Yet as she watched the light, she began to see a city before her, as though the boards on her window had been taken away.

It wasn’t Vir that she saw, however, but a foreign city. One she had never seen before.

She saw Foloth, grown tall and adult, with broad shoulders and lines of strength in his face. His dark eyes looked ambitious and empty, as though he had never learned compassion. He was standing on the steps leading into a building, gazing out at the distance.

A short distance from Foloth, she saw another figure walking slowly, looking up at him. It was Nashmarl, also grown tall and broad-shouldered. There were shadows in Nashmarl’s face. He looked haunted and unhappy, as though facing a decision he did not want to make.

She wanted to reach out to both of them, yet she seemed to be frozen in place. And a ring of certainty opened in her mind. She saw her sons staring at each other, with Foloth on the steps and Nashmarl at the foot of them. They were divided on some issue, probably on opposite sides of it. It was an issue they both cared passionately about, and eventually they would work it through. Both her sons would live long and achieve much in their lives. Foloth would experience many triumphs, although he would never be kind and he would never know lasting joy. Nashmarl would experience great tragedy, and it would change his life forever, perhaps for the better.

The vision faded as though a mist had filled the room, then the light within the Eye was gone, and Ampris sat there on her hard stool, alone in the darkness. She felt calmer now, her spirits restored somewhat. She realized that this was the bleakest moment, the hour of greatest darkness before the dawn. They were so close now to achieving freedom. It was almost within their hands, and she knew that the risks, the sacrifices, and the suffering were worth what they could accomplish if they did not falter now.

Israi had unleashed her worst on them. But she had not broken them yet.

Ampris’s sons had a future, one she had just seen, provided she could give it to them.

She stood up and lit her lamp cube again. She went to the cooler, where the vials of stolen virus were stored, and drew out a slim tube carefully prepared by Jobul. Calmly, her mind smooth and clear now, she poured the tube’s contents into her battered metal cup and mixed it with water. She stood holding the cup a moment. It was time for the greatest risk of all. The last phase of her plan was ready to be set in motion.

Tipping back her head, Ampris drank.

In the morning she went downstairs, wondering if anyone had remained to finish their work.

Foloth was still asleep, but Nashmarl was wandering around the basement meeting room like a lost soul, restless and clearly unhappy.

“Good morning, Nashmarl,” Ampris said to him.

He shot her a dark look and shame filled his eyes, but he ducked his head and turned away from her with his shoulders hunched. She sighed, wishing he could learn to make things less hard on himself. Walking up to him, she put her hand on his rigid shoulder.

He flinched, and sorrow touched her heart at his rejection.

“I’m sorry you think I am a coward,” she said.

He kept his back to her. “You weren’t a long time ago. Everyone says so. Why did you change?”

She sighed, refusing to prove herself to him. “There are more kinds of courage than one. Maybe you’ll learn that someday.”

“Foloth said you went out yesterday to fight the patrollers. Did you kill any?”

She backed her ears. “Bloodshed is not the issue in this fight, Nashmarl. We are trying to leave peacefully.”

“We can’t!” he shouted, whirling around to face her. “Look what they did to us. We can’t just sneak away from that.”

“We will go without battle,” she said firmly and watched all the fire die in his face, smoldering deep with resentment. “But we will go.”

“No we won’t,” he said, and his young voice held disillusionment. “They’re going to kill all of us because you won’t let us fight. You won’t let us release the virus on them. You just keep poisoning our volunteers to scare the Viis. Well, it doesn’t work, Mother! It doesn’t work at all.”

“Nashmarl, that’s enough!” Elrabin said sharply from behind Ampris.

The cub’s face flushed red and he ran upstairs, slamming a door.

Ampris met Elrabin’s gaze as he crossed the large empty room. He’d been outside. Soot streaked one side of his face and he had a rope slung over his shoulder.

Swiveling back his tall ears, he glowered a moment at the ceiling. “That cub needs the hide beat off him, see? He ain’t got no business talking to you that way, Goldie.”

“If I beat him, his opinion of me would not change,” she replied quietly and hugged herself. The room seemed cooler than usual. Or perhaps there were other reasons she was feeling a chill.

Elrabin shrugged off the rope and fetched himself a cup of water from the communal pail. “I been out checking. Patrollers made more sweeps of the streets last night, but they didn’t pick up much. Most folk be hiding real low now. Until the Viis start bombing or pulling ’em out of the buildings, they ought to be safe.”

Ampris nodded. “We’re going on with the last phase of the plan, Elrabin.”

He stared at her, and his shoulders slumped. “You’ve taken it, then.”

“Yes.”

“I—I was hoping you’d back out. Figured maybe after last night you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t quit,” Ampris said quietly. “I never have.”

He sighed, straightening his shoulders. “Then I need to get the Rejects in place. Ain’t found Harthril yet. Figure he got killed yesterday.”

She closed her eyes in regret. “Has Luax gone searching for him?”

“Yeah. This be it, I guess.”

She nodded. “I need a link.”

“Who you calling? The Bureau?”

“Israi.”

Concern flared in his eyes, and he growled. “She’s done with you. We agreed that you would—”

“The link. Please, Elrabin.”

Grumbling, he fetched a hand-link for her. “You get any sleep last night?”

“A little,” she said and punched in the codes. There were beeps and delays, all designed to make her traceable. Ampris kept the time running in her head, knowing she didn’t have much to say, if Israi would ever get on the channel.

Finally, the Kaa’s golden face appeared on the hand-link’s tiny screen. Israi looked haughty and magnificent. She was wearing a collar of beautifully worked gold, and jewels dangled on little chains from each of her rill spines. Her gown was of a deep shade of purple. It made her skin glow. Her eyes held a light of ruthless triumph.

“Have you called us to surrender yourself, Ampris?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ampris said. “If you will let the other abiru go free.”

“Why should we do that?”

“It’s me you want now, Israi. I’ve embarrassed and outmaneuvered you. Surely it’s important for you to show the empire that a single Aaroun cannot beat you.”

“We think it is the slaves who have been beaten,” Israi said smugly. As she spoke, she popped a chilled plumot into her mouth and chewed.

Ampris could see the beaded condensation on the perfectly ripened fruit. The sight of it made her mouth water. How long had it been since she’d eaten anything so delicious? Their food was plain and of poor quality, carefully allotted in small portions, and designed to fill bellies rather than supply a full range of nutrients.

“You may kill the abiru,” Ampris said, pulling her attention back to the matter at hand, “but you have not broken their spirit. I’m asking for their freedom in exchange for me.”

Israi pretended to consider it, but already her eyes were gloating. She swallowed her mouthful and flicked out her tongue. “You put a high price on yourself, Ampris.”

“I was once the pet and companion of the sri-Kaa,” Ampris said with pride. “I was once the champion of the arena. Now I lead the Freedom Network. I am worth a great deal.”

“Would you surrender publicly? On live vidcast?”

“Yes.”

Elrabin twitched and gestured frantically, but Ampris held up her hand to keep him silent.

“And will you admit that your plague is a hoax concocted by your rebellion? Will you urge all infected abiru to turn themselves in for medical treatment?”

“I will come and tell the truth about the rebellion,” Ampris said. “I will give myself up if you will let the others go.”

“Very well,” Israi said. She cut off sound and turned aside to consult with someone offscreen.

Elrabin gripped Ampris’s arm. “What you doing?” he asked, horrified. “You’re supposed to give back the viruses. That was the deal we planned. If you go in without ’em the patrollers will kill you the moment you show yourself.”

The sound came back on, and Ampris shook him off. “Where do we meet?” she asked Israi.

“Get off. Get off,” Elrabin muttered anxiously. “You been on too long. They gonna trace us this time.”