The Namura Stone (42 page)

She met his gaze again. Then, at last, she gave the tiniest shake of her head.

Tallen felt relieved. “Good. I knew you would be strong for me. Now, first of all, we have to loosen that death grip you have on those rungs. Here, let me show you … Just do exactly as I say.” He put his hands over hers. “First we put this hand on the rung below … like that! Then we put the other foot down … like that! Concentrate, Raven! Don’t look down; just let me move your hands and feet for you! There! Well done! Your mother will be proud of you. No, don’t look down again. Just look at my face. See? I am not scared, am I? That is because I know you can do this …”

Slowly, talking reassuringly all the time, he brought Diva’s daughter safely towards the ground, until she could almost jump down. Sanjai came up at a run and reached to pluck her off the tree trunk as soon as she was in range. Then he hurried back to Grace’s side with the little girl. Tallen saw Lannie envelop her in a warm hug. She was clearly exclaiming at the cuts and scratches all over the little girl, where Quenna had been forced to press her against the bark.

Tallen turned back and made his way quickly up the tree again. Soon he was back at Quenna’s height, still talking soothingly.

“You know how proud your father is going to be of you? You saved Raven’s life, you know! She would have died if you hadn’t been able to dominate your fear. You could have been born a Namuri! Now, let’s get you down.”

“I … I d-don’t th-think I c-can,” she stammered, clutching on even more, despite having lost all the feeling to her fingers.

“Yes, you can. We can do it together. You don’t want Raven to see how scared you are, now do you? Not after she has managed to get all the way down. You wouldn’t want a little girl to be braver than you. Not after saving her life like you just have.”

“N-n-no.” She didn’t sound particularly convinced.

“You can do it, you know. Now, we only need to take one small step at a time. Just do as I say, close your eyes, and let me guide you.”

At first it was very shaky progress, but then they managed to establish some sort of rhythm, and Tallen was able to breathe again. The ground gradually began to get closer and closer, and at last he knew Quenna was safe. He closed his own eyes and thanked the blue stone.

He and Quenna made their way, a little shakily, across the sand to the others, where Lannie and Bennel hugged their daughter and congratulated her for what had been an immense achievement. They were very proud. When her elder brother reached up with such a look in his eyes, Quenna began to smile again.

“I did save her, didn’t I?”

Lannie nodded. “You certainly did. You were as brave as any Coriolan bodyguard!”

“Was I?”

Bennel ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Braver,” he said, economizing on words in his usual way. Then the Coriolan looked at Tallen. “Indebted to you,” he said quietly. “I hope I didn’t hurt you, Namuri?”

“You landed a few good punches.” Tallen shrugged. “And it is your daughter who is the heroine. You don’t have to thank me. Just doing my job.” In fact, he was making an effort to hide the pain he was in from the others. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Vion again; the doctor would not be best pleased to hear how his advice had been ignored. However, Tallen didn’t feel he had had any choice, and he didn’t think the damage was severe, so he was not too concerned. He looked around at the golden sands and the blue water of the lake and the sky above it. “Well, we came out of that better than I expected.”

But his optimism was premature. Lannie had shaken his arm.

“What?” Tallen looked to where she was pointing. “Oh, no!”

Grace was holding her stomach and panting, her face contorted. Lannie told them what they already knew.

“The baby. It is coming.”

Chapter 22

SIX AND LEDIN collapsed back on the floor of the cryonutrient chamber on Dessia, panting. Ledin had won the short mock battle between them and was wearing a smug smile. Six, on the other hand, seemed rather downcast.

“You shouldn’t have won,”

Ledin grinned. “You have been slacking on your combat practice recently. You are out of condition.”

“That’s true. Ever since Diva …” His face went still.

“Diva would be the first person to tell you that is no excuse. You need more physical work-outs. I will come over each day I am on Xiantha, and we can spar together.”

Six nodded. “Thanks. I guess I do need the practice. Tallen has been trying to keep me in form, but I must admit, my heart hasn’t really been in it.”

“No problem. It will do me some good too. I don’t really get enough combat practice up on the space station, either.”

Arcan hovered in front of them. “Can you feel the difference? Diva has succeeded in blocking the Ammonites. The canths are now concentrating here on Dessia.”

“That’s why I was feeling more clear-headed!” said Six.

“Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?” suggested the visitor, with a faint buzz.

Six glared. “No it isn’t!”

“Just saying.” The visitor gave the morphic equivalent of a shrug and moved casually out of reach of Six’s hands.

Ledin grinned again. “I see you two haven’t changed much.”

“It’s him!” Six told Ledin. “He
will
insist on underestimating me.”

“That’s impossible!” said the visitor. Then, obviously pleased with his wit, he gave another spin.

“Look here, needle brain, leave it alone, will you? You are hardly the sharpest prong in the fork yourself.”

“You are the most stubborn alien lifeform I have ever come across.”

“Thank you.” Six looked gratified. “It is nice of you to say so.”

The visitor darkened. “I don’t know what Diva sees in you.”

“Oh don’t you? Well, let me tell you …” There was a long pause, and then he said reluctantly, “I don’t either.”

The visitor shimmered. “There! Even you admit it!”

“Of course I do! There isn’t a man in the binary system worthy of Diva.” His face fell. “I mean, there wasn’t, before … before she …”

Arcan luckily interrupted them there. “I think the Dessite form is becoming conscious,” he told them. “Visitor, you should talk to him. We have to get his support before the Ammonites reform into the astrand and begin to attack the canths again. Once the canths withdraw their minds from here, you will find it impossible to stay in the vicinity.”

The visitor nodded. He rushed towards the cryovat, pushing Six to one side and managing to burn him.

“Here! Drat it, Visitor, that hurt!” He rubbed the side of his face. “I already have two scars along that cheek!”

“Another one can only improve you,” came the quick reply.

Six stared at the bimorph and his jaw dropped. “What …?”

But the shape in the vat was indeed moving; all retaliation was forgotten as it suddenly righted itself, and its huge head emerged from the cryonutrient tank.

The visitor moved directly in front of it and stopped. Although neither Six nor Ledin could hear what was being said, it was clear that the newly awoken Dessite was hardly able to take it all in. Its membranes rippled continuously, on a couple of occasions even sticking straight out from its body.

Ledin and Six took a few hasty steps back. They didn’t particularly want to be sprayed by the Dessites again. However, the visitor clearly succeeded in calming his large ancestor down and went on with his mental account of all that had happened.

Arcan seemed able to interpret for them. “Exemphendiss is horrified that his worst fears have come true and finds it hard to believe that the Dessites have made an enemy of someone like me.” He preened slightly. “He seems to possess a sensible sort of mind.”

Six and Ledin exchanged speaking glances.

Arcan didn’t notice. “Anyway, he appears willing to act as our representative before the council of guardians. The only thing is, he thinks that they might kill him completely before he gets a chance to explain our offer.”

“Tell him we are here to protect him,” said Six.

The huge Dessite peered down at the smaller figures in front of him and began to shake.

“He thinks that is funny,” said Arcan. “I am not quite sure why.”

Six stiffened. “Tell him we are very good fighters.”

“I have told him,” said the visitor. “He finds that hard to believe.”

“So I see,” said Six, shortly. “He will change his mind when he sees us in action. We will allow nothing to happen to him.”

“He says he hopes that is true. Having woken up from a very long and enforced sleep, he would like to spend some time alive now.”

“Don’t know why, Visitor,” said Six. “All your lot do is flap around the sea soaking up nutrients through their membranes, and reproducing.”

“And just how is that so different from you?”

Six was shocked. “Well, I mean! There can be no comparison.”

“You are right there. We are much more highly developed. You are only category 3b, remember.”

“You never let me forget it. Why you are forever going on about it, I really don’t—”

“Six.” Arcan’s voice was insistent. “We are running out of time. I can sense that the canths are tiring, and we don’t know how long Diva will be able to keep the Ammonites from reforming the astrand. We have to reach the council of guardians as quickly as we can.”

“I’m sorry, Arcan. Let Ledin and I go first, though!”

They waited as Exemphendiss hauled himself with great difficulty out of the vat, and watched as he stumbled to the passageway. His membranes were still working although it was clear to all that he was having some difficulty with his motor skills.

They made their way to the one of the doors which Ledin had blocked and removed the large bars that had prevented anybody from entering. As soon as they did, the door opened and they saw that the other side was filled with towering Dessite figures.

Six and Ledin walked forwards, swords drawn. Exemphendiss was explaining the situation, they realized, for his membranes were working as he did so, rippling to and fro to illustrate the ideas he was transmitting to the others.

One of the larger examples eased forwards, and Six held up his sword threateningly.

“Take us to your leader!” he shouted. Then he grinned at Ledin. “I have always wanted to say that.”

Ledin grinned back. “Do you think they will?”

“Arcan will, if they don’t. Look, he is getting tired of waiting.”

It was true; Arcan was radiating frustration, and neither of them was at all surprised when the scene around them faded, and they found themselves standing in a different place altogether. Arcan had indeed decided to move the whole party himself. The visitor could not visualize the chamber of the council of guardians, since neither he nor Exemphendiss had ever been there, so Arcan was forced to take them to the next best place, one that the visitor was aware of.

AS SOON AS they arrived in the new chamber, alarms started to go off, and video cameras surrounded them, the cloaked ones suddenly appearing out of thin air. Exemphendiss appeared to find them quite shocking, for he batted some of them out of the way as if they were mosquitoes about to bite.

They were back on the Island of the Forthgoing, and the chamber they were now in was empty except for two large tanks of seawater.

The visitor turned to them. “Those are the tanks of the twelve,” he explained. “This island is considered to be so important that it was decreed necessary to have one of the twelve always on site. These tanks were built so that they could rest without need of going back into the sea at the end of each shift, like all the other workers on the island.”

The large Dessite which was extricating itself from the nearest of the two tanks looked extremely annoyed. The intricate folds around its eyes were all standing out at right angles to its head, and its membranes were rigid with disapproval. The prognosticator was irate at being brought summarily out of his well-deserved rest.

He must have broadcast his feelings to the rest of the facility, for more and more Dessites were appearing in the doorway. Ledin and Six allowed them to reach a certain point, but were waving their swords to prevent them from coming any closer.

Exemphendiss had moved forwards.

Arcan translated for them. “He is telling this Dessite, who appears to be of great importance, that I am willing to come to an agreement with them, in exchange for some substantial changes of theirs. He is telling their leader that I will only speak to them through him, and that if they kill him they will lose any chances they have of peace.”

There was a pause, during which Arcan went an extremely cross black.

“This rather limited alien is extremely cross that it was not awoken earlier, though it still thinks they have me trapped.” He scintillated. “I am about to prove to them that they are mistaken.”

There was another pause, and then Arcan continued. “I have transported the remainder of myself out of the containment tank and back to Valhai. They are all screaming to each other about it.” He sounded very irritated. “These creatures are really quite simple.”

Exemphendiss had begun to speak again. His own fronds were rippling with displeasure, and he was clearly unhappy with the way the current council had allowed things to go. He looked anything but pleased to find out who was currently the tallest of the tallest. His indignation was evident to all of them, especially to the prognosticator, who was furious. Who was this relic of old times to be presenting his fronds to his betters? Who did he think he was? The prognosticator’s own membranes bulged with resentment and he decided on a new course of action.

Arcan darkened again. “They are very stubborn,” he complained. “Now this one is trying to contact the Ammonites, to ask them to reinforce the attack on us.” A rainbow of colour shadowed through him. “Exemphendiss is telling this specimen, who has identified himself as the prognosticator, that we have blocked the Ammonites. The Dessites are checking for themselves, and they don’t like the result. They have found out that the Ammonite astrand has been dismantled. Now they are finally beginning to realize that they cannot harm me.”

Six and Ledin exchanged glances. Then Diva had been successful; the others might be safe. They touched knuckles.

The prognosticator was livid with everyone. How was it possible that this … this … traitor had been allowed to come into contact with him? And, worse still, how was it possible that all his plans had come to nothing? It was unthinkable. He would never agree to let Exemphendiss live. Never!

But the situation was drastic. He could order his guards to attack, true, but what would be the end result of that? It was clear that the orthogel entity was now immune to carbon nanographite trapping; he was in a position to transfer himself and his cohorts wherever he wanted, in fact he already had. It was also clear that any negotiations with him would have to be made through the Dessite traitor they had insisted on taking out of the cryonutrient tank. Things, he thought, could hardly be worse.