Mindlink (31 page)

“It’s a mural,” she said. “It’s beautiful. Look, this has to be
the city before it fell apart.” She pointed to the upper right hand section.
Missing chunks of wall dotted the picture but the painted stone structures
surrounded by the forest were clear enough, despite the holes. “The sky is blue,
like on Earth. Is that what Alhedis looked like before the Telhada screwed it
all up?”

“Likely,” Sam said. “The Telhada desires to control every
aspect of a citizen’s life, including the weather.”

“Amazing how this painting has survived when so much of the
city is falling down. I wonder how old it is.”

“The Namur have been gone for ages.”

She frowned and laid a hand on the portion of the mural
depicting the river. With a fingertip, she traced the silvery arc of a fish
leaping from the waters. “Kind of makes you wonder why no one found this magic
relic in all that time. Maybe it’s being here, in the midst of all this creepy
leftover alien stuff, but I have a bad feeling about our chances here.”

With the tenderness she’d come to expect—to rely on—Sam drew
her into his arms. “I will honor my promise to return you home. If we do not
find the stone, another option will present itself. What can I do to reassure
you?”

“This is pretty good,” she said into his shirt and turned her
head to rub the soft fabric against her cheek. She’d never feel his bare skin
again and the tears that had been threatening all morning spilled over.

How was she going to get through this? Leaving was the right
choice. Besides, Sam would be disappointed in her if she didn’t follow through.
She’d be disappointed in herself too. Finally, she had the belief in herself to
break out of the cycle of self-destruction and she had to cross the finish
line.

“Come. We must not delay.” He led her out of the crumbling
building by the hand and guided her to the barge, making sure she didn’t trip
over the large stones littering the ground. He never missed an opportunity to
put his feelings into action. To Sam, words weren’t enough.

Sam was what every politician should aspire to be—someone who
led with his heart. She didn’t deserve five minutes with him. How could she have
been so lucky to get what time with him she’d had?

It wasn’t enough time. But it had to be. The God Stone was her
ticket home, her way to redemption. And they were going to find it.

Together, using her eye for detail and color and his logical
mind, they scoured the ruins, lifting lighter stones, digging into holes in the
walls and floors and ignoring the despair hanging in the air with the mist.

Nothing.

“I’m starting to imagine the mist is actually alive,” she said
at one point and blew at the white stone residue coating her sleeve, but it
adhered stubbornly. “Is it getting to you too?”

He frowned. “It is nothing to fear.”

Wet clung to the inside of her nostrils and along any uncovered
flesh, but not like the humidity of the forest. This wet dug into her skin with
ice picks and she wanted to sink into a steamy bath next to a roaring fire and
channel surf for an hour. Might as well wish for winged orangutans to drop out
of the sky and pick her up in their little monkey hands to fly her home while
she was at it.

“Look, another mural.” She wandered into the next building and
saw most of the painting was missing. At least on that wall. The mural spilled
onto the adjacent wall and exploded with colors, swirling into abstract designs.
They hadn’t seen any others, so it didn’t seem to be common—an oddity since
they’d been created with such obvious passion and skill.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask for the Namur to have
drawn us a map to the relic, huh?” she said, as Sam joined her in the room.

The sweeping panorama of colors covered the wall from floor to
ceiling, none of which he could see, so she let him view it through her. One of
the blobby swirls caught her eye and she zeroed in on it. Inside it was a
painting of a person.

Large eyes set in a human-shaped head topped a slender-limbed
body, turned sideways, with skin painted a rich brown. Dark pageboy-style hair
brushed the woman’s shoulders and a long white gown covered her pregnant
womb.

“This is in the style of Egyptian tomb paintings back on Earth,
but it’s more detailed and I don’t recall seeing one who was expecting.”

“Expecting?” Sam narrowed one eye at the picture as he
processed her meaning via the link. “She is carrying a child in the mound on her
stomach?”

“You’ve never seen a pregnant woman before? Oh,” she said as it
dawned. “Your women don’t get pregnant, do they?” Her lip curled at the image he
sent of babies conceived in lab dishes and test tubes.

“She resembles Queen Tanith.” Sam touched the woman’s hair.

“And Cleopatra, the most famous Egyptian queen. I guess the
Telhada haven’t evolved much from who they were on Earth.”
Cut
off
, the doctor had said, with no outside influence
to bring about change. No reason to change.

She traced a line from the Cleopatra/Tanith figure to another
spot in the busy conglomeration of shapes and lines. Possibly a marriage scene.
Another of workers picking crops. An entire row of people, all with a hand to
their foreheads, as if in pain or disbelief.

“Weird. Look at these figures. Most of the scenes are like a
picture of daily life but these are different. What are they doing, dancing?
Their heads are so close to each other.” She stood on her tiptoes to better see
the second row of figures and squinted. “No, their bodies aren’t close, just
their faces. Almost like they’re—”

“Linking,” Sam finished for her.

She examined the figures again. “Yeah. But in these pictures,
it looks like people did it on purpose. I thought the Namur painted these
murals, but this style sure looks like the work of someone with Egyptian
influence.”

“Ramlah may have lied. We have no validation these Namur ever
existed. If they did exist, perhaps they used this city to hold captured humans.
If these humans came from the place you call Egypt, this may be how they
preserved their history.” The mist curled into itself in the space behind him,
creating an undulating backdrop for his matter-of-fact interpretation. And of
course he’d taken the opportunity to point out Ramlah’s untrustworthiness. “I
doubt we will ever know for certain. We have many more places to search and I
grow more uneasy the longer we remain in the ruins.”

He took her hand and she allowed him to pull her out of what
was left of the building.

* * *

Nothing came of the continued search. The stone remained
hidden and Sam’s frustration level climbed. They had nothing with which to work.
No information. The task seemed as impossible now as it had been before they
started.

Disgusted, Sam sat on the edge of a short stone wall—the
remains of an enclosure of sorts—as best he could determine. Ashley had been
sitting on the ground, chin in palm and spirits low, for the last few minutes.
The possibility of failure seized his insides, and coupled with her constant
distress, he wondered how much longer he could bear it. This torture was due
punishment for agreeing to Ramlah’s quest, which he’d only done because he’d
known the chances of success were slim. Last night, he’d committed to returning
Ashley home and being sent on this fool’s errand was a frustrating waste of
time.

In his misery, he almost missed it, but the edge of his
consciousness picked up the sound.

Whoosh
.

His blood froze. A barge. Had one of the mine workers located
the barge they’d stolen? Would the worker seek the thieves next?

Ashley jumped up. “Who’s here? Did they figure out we took the
barge?” she whispered. Vibrations shook the rubble and chunks cascaded from
random walls around them.

From a different direction, more whooshes.

Then another direction.

And another as the sound of barges surrounded the city.

More chunks of rock rained down as the ruins quaked.

Stupid. He should have realized the truth before leading Ashley
into danger. “It was a trap,” he said and a hot flush burned his neck. “There is
no relic.”

“Ramlah set us up. That little rat. How did he do it so
quickly?” Eyes squeezed shut, Ashley sucked in a breath as she internalized his
images. “Oh. We shouldn’t have taken our time last night.”

“We have to get to the woods.” He cocked his head, noting
auditory clues to determine the positions of the barges. “That way.”

He pointed and took a step, but before his foot hit the ground,
a nearby wall toppled with a crash, right into his path. Particles exploded and
mingled with the wet mist, blinding him.

Voices cut through the curtain of white. Many voices—of
citizens. Security division, no doubt, with Sam and Ashley’s IDs already keyed
up on the handheld screen.

“Sam!” Ashley’s cry sliced through him and he reached out to
her, mentally, while feeling for her with an outstretched hand. Her fear almost
crippled him. The waves of calm he usually called forth refused to surface. He
was too tangled in his own panic.

The workers couldn’t lock on either of their implants while
they were linked, so they had a slight advantage—but a sharp blow to the head
from a falling stone would erase that advantage. With the link broken, swift
death would follow.

Their fingers connected, and he gripped her hand. The ground
shook as, unbelievably, more barges whooshed in the distance. Another wall
crashed behind them and he ducked reflexively. How many barges had the king
sent? All of them?

As one mind, he and Ashley ran toward the edge of the city,
jumping tumbled walls and chunks of stone. The white curtain of mist became an
ally and shielded their escape from the uniformed menace chasing them. Snatches
of the worker’s conversations floated through the mist and he heard his name.
His old name. It was no longer just a theory.

Ramlah had indeed traded Sam and Ashley for his pardon.

They dove into the stolen barge and Sam shuttled them away from
the ruins as fast as the cumbersome vehicle would allow. Raised voices from the
center of the city drifted through the mist. Security had heard the barge.

Seconds counted.

He shot Ashley an image and as soon they cleared the gorge, he
pointed. With a nod, she leaped from the still-moving barge, hit the ground and
rolled.

As soon as she landed, he glanced back to the ruins then
replicated the maneuver. They staggered to their feet. He trailed her into this
unfamiliar part of the forest, nerves so taut he moved much more slowly than
he’d like. They flattened themselves behind a tree trunk several meters in.
Ashley sucked in heavy breaths and rubbed her arm where she’d hit the
ground.

“Did they see which way we went?” Ashley poked her head out to
peer around Sam.

“The more relevant question is whether we can circle the city
through the forest without alerting them to our presence. The path to Kir
Dashamun is on the opposite side,” he reminded her.

Her dark disappointment bombarded him as she said, “We’re
giving up and going back to Kir Dashamun?”

“We are not conceding.” The king knew they were still alive and
wanted them back—or dead—badly, as the sheer numbers sent to retrieve them
implied. The residents must be warned that Kir Dashamun was no longer a
sanctuary for anyone, courtesy of Ramlah, the traitor in their midst. Ashley
would never be safe on Alhedis and he’d been blind to believe she could stay
even if she chose to. His selfishness knew no bounds. “It is time to attack this
offensively.”

Chapter Seventeen

They made it to the river without getting caught. Sam
had a plan to send the Earth humans home on their original ride, and Ashley was
thrilled to start calling the shots instead of waiting around for one of the
many people who wanted them dead to show up.

At the main thoroughfare, Ashley sent Sam off with a firm push.
They didn’t have time to stick together if Ramlah was still in Kir Dashamun. If
he was, the underground city would be just as dangerous as the ruins. But they
couldn’t leave all these people defenseless and Sam felt a strong need to warn
them.

Sam took off in the opposite direction to find one or more of
the four residents who served on the city council, the closest thing Kir
Dashamun had to people in charge. The link was dark with his unhappiness about
splitting up. He worried about her too much. It took his focus off the bigger
issue—fixing the mess they’d made by agreeing to Ramlah’s stupid bargain and
then figuring out how to get to the spaceship in the highly secure Acquisitions
pyramid.

Good thing she was going home. Better for them both. They each
had their own goals and they led to different places. But she wished it didn’t
feel like she’d just been given a terminal prognosis from a grim-faced doctor.
You
have
one
day
to
live
.
Maybe
less
,
depending
on
how
quickly
Sam
gets
you
on
that
spaceship
.

Enough of that. She had to round up Jennings, who would fall
into a swoon at the chance to go home. And Marc and Natalie, who were probably
working—which was what she should be doing, too. It wasn’t like Nahmia and Kel
had a bunch of extra people they could ask to take over her job with the kids.
Her coworkers in the child-care area had been stretched thin until she joined
them.

She spotted Natalie in the middle of the other chatting
washer-women. She looked miserable as she dunked laundry into the large tub at
her feet.

“Time to go,” Ashley said and Natalie glanced up from the
sopping shirt in her hands.

“What happened? Did you find it?” Hope bloomed into an
expectant smile on Natalie’s face. “Where’s Sam?”

“I’ll explain later. We don’t have a lot of time, and we need
to get Marc and Jennings too.”

In halting Hahlan, Natalie excused herself to the stern
overseer, mumbling something about an emergency and a word that sounded like
llama, then fell into step as Ashley hurried along a dimly lit side street to
the medical center.

“So it’s done?” Natalie asked. “We’re going home?”

“That’s the plan.” Ashley hesitated. They were flying by the
seat of their pants and while she had faith in Sam, the others needed to be
aware of the danger. “It’s a little complicated. Let’s find Marc and I’ll give
you the short version.”

Ashley pushed open the splintery medical center doors. Marc was
easy to spot. In sharp contrast to Natalie, Marc held center court from a crude
chair. Two residents sat on the floor near him, hanging on every word as he
described some medical treatment in a combination of English, a sprinkling of
poorly pronounced Hahlan and amateurish drawings on a piece of brown paper.

“Marc. It’s time to go.” Ashley nodded to the residents in
apology for the interruption.

“Go where? Break time isn’t for another hour or so.” Marc
didn’t take his eyes off the stick figures under his index finger.

“We’re leaving. Sam’s taking us to Kir Barsha and sending us
back to Earth on the spaceship.”

“That’s the plan?” Natalie broke in. “What happened to the
magic fuel converter thing? Wasn’t there another spaceship that guy said he
could fly?”

Ashley grimaced. In hindsight, they shouldn’t have told Natalie
and Marc about Ramlah’s bargain. “That didn’t work out. He double-crossed me and
Sam and Security almost caught us in the ruins. We have to get out of Kir
Dashamun as soon as possible.”

The two med-center staff guys seated on the floor listened to
the exchange with open curiosity and clearly had a better grasp on English than
most residents. Ashley shut her mouth.

“You’re storming the gates, so to speak?” Marc forgot about his
picture. “How is that less dangerous than staying in Kir Dashamun? No one here
has devices designed to kill or sonic fences or recyclers. You go on ahead and
send me a postcard.”

“Kir Barsha is dangerous, no question, especially now that
Security knows we’re still alive. But the spaceship we came on is our only
chance to get out of here. That other spaceship doesn’t exist.” Ashley crossed
her arms. Why was he arguing with her? The unofficial truce between them had
fooled her into thinking he’d listen. “You don’t think Sam can get us on the
ship, do you?”

The doctor sighed. “It’s not a comment on his abilities. It
sounds too risky and I’ve got a couple of patients I want to check on in a few
hours. If I miss the boat, c’est la vie.”

Patients? Ashley stared at him. Serious-doctor face had
gradually taken over until she hardly remembered what he’d looked like before.
He’d disappeared into the role. Permanently. “You don’t want to go home.”

“No.” He blinked as if waking from a long nap. “Actually, I
don’t. I’ve got too much to do here. These people are practicing an almost
medieval level of medicine and I can increase the city’s life expectancy by ten
years with a few simple changes, especially with the procedures around
childbirth.”

“You can’t stay here.” Panic scraped at her windpipe. How could
he even think about not going home? Earth was where they belonged. “It’s too
dangerous. Ramlah turned us in, don’t you understand?”

Marc snorted. “I’m pretty easy to find and yet, here I am,
untouched. No one’s interested in me. They just want your boyfriend, I’d wager,
and you’re going to waltz right into their territory. Doesn’t seem like the
smartest plan to me.”

“It’s the only way we can get home, and I’m willing to face
whatever I have to. Besides, we have to draw Security away from Kir Dashamun. We
can’t risk it being discovered. All of your patients will be in a lot worse
shape if that happens.” Nope, she still wasn’t any better at writing her own
scripts—judging by the hard-set line of his jaw, that hadn’t been the right
argument. She blew hair off her forehead and frowned. “I can’t believe you want
to stay. What about your tree frogs?”

“I’m done with them. I enjoyed being a medical doctor, but the
Federal Health Act of ’94 was such a pain. It drove a lot of us out of business,
but no one noticed because in Switzerland, doctors are a dime a dozen.” He
flicked a hand and shrugged. “On Alhedis, there’s no insurance, no bureaucracy.
My skills are rare. I have a place here, where I can make a real difference, and
I don’t want to give that up.”

She could think of a hundred cities in need of a doctor on
Earth. Third world countries in much greater medical need than the genetically
enhanced residents of Kir Dashamun. But he’d become what he was meant to be
here, and Earth had fallen short. How could she counter that?

Either way, she and Natalie couldn’t indulge in a debate.

“You better be one hundred percent sure. There are no second
chances. Have a great life, Doc.” Ashley saluted him and whirled to leave the
medical center. The Telhada had enough fuel for one trip to Earth. This was
their only shot. “Come on, Natalie.”

Sam sent her an image of meeting him in the common dining
hall.

“Marc’s crazy.” Natalie shook her head, tsking. “Who cares if
there’s no insurance? They don’t have chocolate or bubble baths here. I miss my
animals. The Discovery Channel. Shopping at Target. My brother, even though this
is all his fault. I want to see him again so I can hug him and then smack him in
the face. This is going to work, right?”

Natalie focused so intently on Ashley’s answer, she almost
tripped over the uneven stones paving the side street.

“Yeah. It is. If we don’t get on that ship, it’ll be because
Sam is dead.” She shuddered.

That wasn’t a premonition. It couldn’t be. They were going
home, back to the place where they belonged. Plus, she had a bunch of other
compelling reasons to go too. Good reasons. Earth should know what they’d sent
their scientists into. If nothing else, the families of the other people on the
list deserved an explanation for what had happened to them.

Why was she trying so hard to justify the absolute right
decision?

Because when Marc decided to stay, suddenly getting on the
spaceship became a choice. Her choice. A choice she’d made to leave Alhedis
forever and she didn’t like having to think about it that way. Until this
moment, it had been a fact. It was just understood. She was going. Period.

Now she had to live with her choice. And live with the piercing
sliver of awareness that Marc wasn’t the only one who’d found something
meaningful on this alien planet.

* * *

Sam located Leesi and Cass in the kitchen, where the two
middle-aged women cut and sliced root vegetables for the evening meal. Once he
explained the dire situation, they called the other two city council members and
held an impromptu meeting around a wide-plank table in the common area.

The rapid discussion concluded on a grave note and the
somberness burrowed through Sam until he could hardly bear it. The constant
darkness in the underground city did little to dispel the sense of foreboding.
He scrubbed his face, steeling for the next steps.

“I am sorry for the burden I have brought on this place,” Sam
said to the group of four, meeting each one’s gaze without flinching. A
significant progression.

The bench seat creaked as Hal, the resident who had assisted
Sam the first day, waved away the apology. “That’s the problem with trying to
keep a city secret. There’s always a chance we’ll be discovered. Keeping people
contained is how the Telhada operates, not us. Ramlah is to blame.”

“Regardless, I pledge to resolve the issue,” Sam said. “If you
are certain Ramlah is no longer in Kir Dashamun, it is critical that I locate
him in Kir Barsha and determine the extent of his disloyalty. Perhaps his
treachery may be stopped before further damage is done.”

“By yourself?” Leesi’s brows lifted in disbelief. “The king
will recycle you long before you find Ramlah.”

“The king is a tyrant and must be dealt with as well. However,
I hope to capitalize on the element of surprise and enter Kir Barsha without his
knowledge. Where is the key to the underground passage?”

Hal and Cass exchanged glances. “No one knows and it’s best
kept that way.”

Sam’s plan dissolved and was replaced with that tightness
across his chest he loathed. “Has it never occurred to you the best way to
resolve the issue of keeping the city a secret is to eliminate the threat
requiring it to remain hidden? I intend to accomplish this and you do nothing
but offer excuses and reasons why I will fail. Take charge of your own fate. I
will accept no less for myself.”

Vol, the council member who had resided in Kir Dashamun the
longest, shifted forward on the bench, his scowl fierce. “Do you imagine we have
never thought of deposing the king? That we do not dream of living in the light,
without fear? Many have tried. Many have failed. We do the best we can with what
we have already won. Why disrupt the status quo?”

“Because I have knowledge which you do not.” Sam broke off as
Ashley entered the common room, trailed by Natalie. The doctor was conspicuously
absent. Ashley’s thoughts communicated both his decision to stay and her rampant
unhappiness with his choice. Her emotions were a muddy swirl with an
undercurrent of pure misery.

Jennings, the other from Earth, hadn’t joined her either.

“You’re not the first high-level citizen to escape, you know,”
Hal said. “Though I hardly see how you being a former director changes the fact
that we can’t fight the king. We have no weapons. No handhelds.”

More justification for hiding in shadow for eternity. Ashley
came up behind him and put her palm to his back, silently offering her support.
Encouraging him because she’d felt his doubt and frustration through the
link.

Galvanized, he shook his head. “I am speaking of something far
more powerful than my previous position. The Telhada controlled every aspect of
our education, our beliefs. Manipulated us at the molecular level and remade us
into their image of human. Each of you refused to remain in a society where our
leaders forced our participation toward achieving their agenda. Why stop at
escaping this oppression? Why allow other citizens to remain enslaved by it? The
Telhada must be stopped. They fail to realize the core of their power is limited
to our implants, yet it is the very thing which we may use to defeat them.”

“Implants? You’re talking about linking.” Cass choked on the
word as she spit it out.

“Yes. It is our only chance. Those who wish to change their
fate may travel safely through Khota Marong territory and cross the perimeter
unharmed.”

Hal stared at Sam. “How will that prevent the Khota Marong from
tearing you apart? We lost Mallah a day before you arrived and he was an
experienced forager.”

“They don’t like the frequency of the link, or something,”
Ashley explained, covering for Sam in response to his silent plea as he fought
to control his rising agitation. She detailed how they discovered the fact
during their own experience with the forest creatures. “How else do people get
through the woods to come here?”

“They take the river. Swim or find something to float in. It’s
all downstream, which makes it impossible to go the other way, back to Kir
Barsha.” Hal turned to Sam, thoughtfully. “You traveled through the woods?
Successfully?”