Star Hunters (10 page)

Old ways. Old days. Light was falling on the bed in long silvery lines. The old ways. Her eyes moved across the ladder of moonlight on the embroidered bed cover. The hares. May they all be cursed, those men. Not her business. Not woman's business. Go off and leave the women to wait and … and … her hands clenched into fists.

She looked again at the fine silver lines crossing the bed cover.
Like bars locking me in
, she thought. Without understanding why, her mind went back to the day when Old Man Kobe sent for her, already the favorite among his daughters. She went as slowly as she dared to that big, dark, cool room where her father waited. Rumors had been hissing about the fifth-floor dormitory for months. Kitosime was marriageable and a marriage had been offered. Names were whispered. The other girls teased her without letup, naming absurd candidates, an old man who'd worn out three wives and had two others still in his quarters, another who was a year younger than she and feebleminded besides. She went down the stairs with elegant grace, hiding her fear and her excitement behind the first of her doll masks.

Kitosime closed her eyes. Hodar's wild son, he'd told her. The one who'd gone to the Tembeat. A wilding barely reclaimed. She remembered her sisters and cousins giggling in secret over the rumors, remembered Kobe's barely suppressed hatred and her own fear. And her ultimate sense of worthlessness. She was Kobe's professed favorite; he'd spoiled her, caressed her, adored her. And now he was selling her. She stood before the Old Man that day, eyes meekly on her feet, quivering with outrage; her father was yoking her to one more tainted than herself and she knew why. He wanted the land. Manoreh was Hodar's heir. And for this he would sell his pet. With bitter resentment—more bitter because she was unable to express any of it—she accepted what he told her and moved silently through the ceremonies preceding the marriage ritual.

The first time she'd seen Manoreh—Kitosime smiled and drifted to the bed. She sat down slowly, then lay back, the lines of light curving up over her body. He was standing by Hodar's side in the center of the courtyard, standing beside the Mother Well, waiting for Meme Kalamah's blessing. A fine, strong handsome man.

Her hand moved across her face, then down along her neck.
We were happy
, she thought.
Wildly happy. Tender with each other. It was magic to me then how he knew me. I didn't realize
.… Her hand fell away onto the bed cover. She stroked the stiff material then made a fist.
I had to ask
, she thought.
And he had to tell me
.
FEELING
.
The ultimate violation. And I couldn't handle it. Our first quarrel
. She closed her eyes and lay very still.
The first of many. If only he'd gotten me out of here. He could have. It was so easy for him. He didn't have to stay. Ah, Meme Kalamah, how I missed him that first time. And all the other times. Why didn't he
.… She sat up.
I can't stay here. Too many memories
.

In the darkness outside her room she hesitated. She was exhausted but her mind was running in tight circles. She rubbed her hand across her forehead then pulled it around and rubbed at the back of her neck.
Something
.… The heights called her, she felt the pull, like strings on her shoulders. She moved quickly to the stairs and climbed to the fifth floor, the dormitory level. She crossed the long hall to the last flight that went up onto the roof.

And stopped—hand reaching toward but not quite touching the warning masks on the newel posts. The pull on her was stronger, almost a compulsion, telling her to step up, to race up to the roof. If she touched foot to that last flight of stairs in defiance of the taboo, there was no going back. She lifted her head, terrified and exhilarated. She felt a destiny calling her, a sense of something tremendous waiting for her. She pushed her hand forward and jabbed her fingers into the mask's carved eyes. She laughed and stepped onto the stairs. The forbidden stairs. She ran up them feeling cloud-light, as if she'd cast off some invisible burden.

The roof was flat. in the center was Kobe's shrine, Kisima's power center, the sky counterpart to Meme Kalamah's earth-heart in the court. The great stone tower rising beside the roof was the cistern. Water was pumped up from the well. It also caught rain through a series of baffles that kept debris out. She wondered briefly how much was left in it. But the shrine drew her more strongly. She drifted to the door and pulled it open, feeling daring and able to handle anything. Inside, five powerstones sat in silversand contained by a low curbing. There was a stone basin kept filled with rainwater and a gourd dipper hanging beside it. These were used to waken the stones. She knew that much, though the actual ceremonies were secret. Other details remained hazy as she looked around and she felt no need to step inside to investigate further. She shut the door and strolled over to the wide walkway around the outside of the five-sided roof. She moved to the waist-high railing and stood looking out across the compound to the southeast, wondering if Manoreh had swallowed his ghost yet. He seemed ghostlike to her now, a part of her past. She moved around to the west. The Mungivir river glinted silver in the light from the moonring. The long limber branches of the uauawimbony stirred slightly. The undemanding clacks that touched her ears were almost swallowed by the whispering of the wind. Nothing else moved. It came to her like words on the wind that the old ways were dead. No matter what happened, the old ways were dead for her. Again she felt the disturbing combination of excitement and fear. And also, unexpectedly, a sense of loss.

Hands clutching the rail, she lowered herself to the smooth planks, then loosed her grip. There were good times … the sharing with her sisters … the small happinesses … escaping the rigidity of her training for the warm, friendly noise of the kitchen, watching hands slicing yams, the deep orange slices falling neatly away from the blade … before Kobe made her sit beside him and started killing her spirit. She looked through the railings across the empty plain and wept for the good things that were gone. Wept for the small comforts, the certainties that were sunk now in the past, gone beyond reach.

The tears stopped after a while and she leaned her head against the railing, glowing stiff as the last of the night passed. When the sky began to green in the east, she went downstairs to the kitchen to see what she could scratch together for breakfast.

Chapter XI

The hare ring faced inward, silent and implacable, individual hares rising at intervals to their hind feet, then returning to a crouch, giving the white ring an eerie movement as if the herd were a single animal breathing in great gulps.

Just inside the flickering psi-screen, bands of boys ran about, hooking hares through the barrier and knocking them on the head. Others darted off with the bodies, taking them to the shelters for the women to cook.

In the streets groups of men lounged about, the groupings swelling and diminishing as restless individuals came and went. The air was thick with a smoldering anger. One man bumped into another and cursed him. They fought, flailing at each other until one staggered off leaving the other tumbled in the street. In another street a dead man was stretched out, steam rising from the blood pooling on the beaten earth.

The tension in the barracks was like steam, thick and hot. The noise was deafening and unending. Bands of boys ran continually through huddled groups of women and old people, sometimes scuffling in play, sometimes exploding into blindrage and battering each other and everyone around. Occasionally they were called to order by some adult still possessing authority. Like the groups of men outside, the gangs split and reformed, the mob growing greater than the individual members, taking on a personality different from many of its components. Wilder and wilder, their humanity slipping rapidly away, the boys gradually took control of the shelters, terrorizing each other and everyone else inside.

Umeme leaned on the windowsill of the Tembeat's guard tower, fascinated and horrified by the disintegration proceeding below him. He was beginning to worry. Men kept passing the Tembeat and the Chwereva complex, muttering ominously, sometimes shaking their fists and yelling obscenities. The groups were getting larger as the hours passed. And closer to the edge of a blindrage explosion. He lifted his head and stared out at the hare ring. He could almost smell the psi-screen burning under the pressure. The flickering was increasing in frequency as the hours passed. He shivered and pulled back, wishing his time were up.
Three hours is getting to be too long
, he thought. He looked up at the sun and sighed. Half his watch left. He began to pace back and forth from window to window. As he walked, he practiced his lessons, struggled to distance the abrasive emotions intruding from below.

Faiseh grinned down at Manoreh. “In one piece again, huh?” The two men clasped wrists, then Faiseh dismounted. “Any problems?”

“Got a hole where my belly should be. The two of you forgot food when you packed Aleytys off with the car and me.”

“‘Easy to fix. Come around here.”

Aleytys moved slowly away from them. Back on the porch she probed at the presence once more. It was aware of the new arrivals; she could feel the curiosity, the sharpened focus of its interest. She felt more than ever like bait on a fishhook.

In the courtyard Faiseh dug in his saddlebag. He pulled out a round, fiat loaf with edges of meat and cheese spilling out and handed it to Manoreh, then fished out another for himself. Talking in low voices the two men climbed the steps and went to sit on the bench to eat.

Grey finally slid from his saddle. He'd been watching her since his arrival, taking in her change of clothes and the fall of her hair. Aleytys rubbed at her nose, acutely conscious now of his eyes and very glad she'd healed the betraying scrapes, scratches and bruises from last night's rutting in the barn.
He knows something happened
, she thought.
His eyes are too sharp and he knows me too well
.

He came up the stairs quickly, quietly, a hunting cat on the prowl. His boots made no sound on the gritty planks of the porch. He stopped beside her. “Ready?”

“What?” The question startled her. She'd been so intent on her own reactions she'd briefly forgotten the Hunt.

He lifted a hand impatiently, then dropped it back. He was full of sharp edges this morning. Poised to move even when he stood motionless. “Lee?”

“Sorry. Thinking about something else.” She brushed the hair back from her face and he grimaced, knowing she used the gesture to buy time. Aleytys chuckled. “Slow down, Grey. We've got a nibble. Our fish has been poking around us since sunup.” She rubbed her back against the pillar. “Out there, vaguely northeast. Give him half a chance and he'll strike.” She frowned at the two Rangers on the bench. “Do we need them?”

Grey prowled past her, unable to stand still any longer. “Part of the bait. Camouflage. Know you don't like that True though. Time to get back to the ship. Our friend takes you. I come behind and land him. Right?”

Aleytys stroked along the line of her collarbone, stopping to rub at the warm spot where the tiny implant nestled. “That's why Head had this thing rushed.” She tapped the warm spot. “What about your end? Still working?”

“Checked it on the way here. Distance and direction both sharp.” His eyes were bright with mischief. “Don't trust us yet, do you.”

“Being bait makes me nervous.” She looked away from him toward the presence.
Waiting for us. For me
, she thought. She started shivering, her amusement fading. “Grey, don't get lost. This thing scares hell out of me. Given half a push I'd start running and not stop till I had a dozen star systems between me and that … that spider out there.” She touched her hair again, then shrugged. “All right. I had to say it.” She left him and walked briskly to Manoreh, her bare heels thumping defiantly on the planks.

“You feel that?” She jabbed her finger toward the waiting presence. His answering nod was unnecessary. His uneasiness matched hers. “We're targets,” she said. “Bait, I told you. Stay with me and he'll take us both.”

“What choice do I have in honor?” He brushed at the crumbs on his shorts. “Let you go alone? No!”

“Don't be a fool. Grey will be following. Stay with him. I can take care of myself.”

Manoreh tapped his head. “I feel him. So he's pinned me, too. Want me to betray your partner?”

“Damn!” She turned to Faiseh. “What about you?”

Faiseh's bushy eyebrows arched. “Never was as strong a
FEELER
as Manoreh. Good thing now. Haribu don't even see me. Hunter Grey going back to the ship?”

“Grey?”

He was close behind her. “I see where you're heading.” He smiled at Faiseh. “Coming with me?”

“Right.” He stood and stretched. “We better get started.”

Hands on her shoulders, Grey turned, Aleytys to face him. “Give us till sundown before you start riding. I want to be close to the ship. And.… take care?” Without waiting for an answer he followed Faiseh down the steps and slid into the front seat of the groundcar beside him. Minutes later the whine of the motor was drowning in the clacking of the wimbony pods, then even that sound died away. Aleytys stood still until the spot of warmth under her collarbone faded. Grey was out of her range now and she was left alone with Manoreh. She grimaced in Haribu's direction. “Father of confusion,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind.” She went to sit down beside him. “Do you have any idea why this tie exists between us?”

“None. Chance, I suppose. Like resonating crystals. Haribu's our striker. When he's gone maybe the link will dissolve.” He frowned. “I never heard of anything like this before. Usually communication cuts off after a little distance is covered. Out of sight, out of touch.” He leaned back and brooded.