Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (42 page)

“Don’t be afraid. You must learn to wield the vortex. Not even Zadok understood it fully. But you
must.”

She glanced fearfully at his hand that held hers over the
Mea.
“Why?”

“Because you’ll find after you’ve used it enough, that it’s part of you, that you can feel its fabric in your soul. And when you reach that stage, I can show you how to walk from here …” He opened a hand to the undulating hills and azure sky. “… to the Treasury of Light.”

“What is that?”

“Your rightful home. Lift your other hand, Rachel.”

Hesitantly, she did, raising it as she’d seen him do, palm to the warm fragrant winds.

“Yes. Good. Now, find that one place inside that listens. You’ve done this before in your sleep, see if you can while awake.”

She closed her eyes and followed a winding, treacherous path, taking wrong turns occasionally. When she did, he gently prompted her in different directions. At last, after what seemed an hour, she found the place and let her mind blend with her soul. A euphoric feeling of harmony enveloped her.

“Very good,” he murmured. “In time it will come easier. Now grab hold of that essence and think about the
Hoyer,
picture that security tunnel as clearly as you can.”

She nodded slowly, the image forming with remarkable clarity. Curious. Did he give her the ability to imagine with such exactitude, or did—”

“No, Rachel. That’s your own ability. Open your eyes.”

She did. Before her the dark maw spun, gouging an ominous ebony hole in the magnificent countryside. Aktariel gazed down at her, a warm pride on his face.

“You’re a natural at this,” he said. He reached out and took her hand again. “Three final things. Don’t forget what I said about Tikkun. Talk to Tahn. You’ll find he’s a just man—decent to a fault. And tell Jeremiel the information on Lichtner came from a file listed under the heading of Neurophysiological Experiments. File number nineteen-one-one-eight. He’ll only be able to get fragments, but he’ll need them.”

Rachel steeled herself. Was this part of some plot he was weaving? How many men had believed him in the past only to discover he’d lied to them? How many women had felt the same inexplicable attraction she did? She needed to go back to her cabin and spend long hours contemplating the implications of today.

“Are you ready, Rachel?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

The void felt oddly cold as she stepped into it, as glacial as a tomb.

CHAPTER 32

The 12th of Tishri, 5414.

Pavel Jacoby reached for his spoon and tasted the Yaguth ox soup. Black hair fell over his brown eyes. He nodded approval at the soup; it tasted rich and earthy, the basil giving it a flowery flavor.

He dipped his spoon again and gazed around the long table. Five members of his family talked and laughed, gesturing with their arms when they wanted to make a point. Grandpa Jasper kept shouting, “I shouldn’t even be here! Look at the risk I’m taking to be with family.”

They sat in a large room with a high ceiling. The oil lamps on the mantle cast a soft golden light over the wall-to-wall bookcases. The white table linen, crystal wine goblets, and ornate silverware shimmered. People dressed in their best suits this Shabbat erev, even Grandpa. His threadbare white shirt had been starched so stiffly he clawed at the collar constantly, making little choking sounds to emphasize his discomfort. But Aunt Sekan had demanded everybody come dressed as though it were a high holiday … for it might be their last meal together. The marines continually tightened the ropes around their necks.

“Pavel?” his father said, gesturing sternly with his spoon. His sparse gray hair glimmered like tarnished silver in the candlelight. “What do you think about these marines telling us we can’t go into our own cafes anymore, eh? We can’t go to cafes or the spaceport or even be on the streets after eight o’clock. You think they believe such measures will keep us under their thumbs?”

He frowned. He’d prayed they wouldn’t discuss the frightening new orders this night. The implications of the restrictions made him deathly ill. “I think they’re convinced it scares us. It’s a potent step.”

His father’s ebony eyes narrowed. “Step?”

“Yes, I think—”

“The boy’s trying to tell you we’ve got much worse coming,” Grandpa bellowed so loudly the entire table went silent, staring. “I heard downtown this morning that they’re planning on walling the whole city in.”

Pavel lowered his gaze to his half-full soup bowl. He’d heard it, too, but had hoped no one else had. Now all the fears they’d been suppressing behind kind smiles would surface. He glanced at Aunt Sekan. A tiny overweight woman with curly red hair and huge blue eyes, just now she looked like a terrified owl.

“Grandpa,” Pavel said softly and instantly regretted the attempt to use a soothing tone.

“What?
Speak up, boy!”

He scowled reprovingly but leaned across the table, raising his voice to a shout, “I think those are just rumors the Magistrates started to scare us into obeying their curfew. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“You wouldn’t, would you? Well, you’ve never been very bright. Remember when you failed that basic astronomy class in the third grade? Couldn’t identify your own planet on a solar system map. I knew then your beam was a little dim.”

Pavel sighed and leaned back in his chair. Every time Grandpa wanted to gain leverage, he reminded him of that test score. He’d never live it down.

Jasper continued, “Chaim Losacko told me two days ago that he’d tapped an illegal transmission talking about Horeb getting scorched.
Eh, what do you think of that?
First Kayan, then Horeb. You think these stupid marines aren’t serious, you’ve got another think coming.”

Sekan nervously fiddled with her spoon. It clinked repeatedly against her wine glass. She stared at each man in turn, mouth tightening to a thin white line.

“If they put up a light shield around the city,” Toca said through a strained exhalation, “then we’ll form our own government inside and go back to living like we did before they declared martial law. That might even be a good thing. We wouldn’t have to see their hateful faces every day.”

Grandpa briskly rubbed his face as though trying to wake from a bad dream. “I can’t be hearing right. You think they’ll just leave us alone once they wall us in? I’d rather be imprisoned in the pit of darkness with Aktariel himself, than be at the complete mercy of the Magistrates!”

Pavel glanced at his father, who studied his bowl uncomfortably. No one could correct Grandpa once he got on his high horse. Worse, everybody knew he was right, but no one wanted to spoil a joyous family meal by talking about it. Who could eat when they feared their world might die tomorrow?

“Daddy?”

Pavel turned to pat Yael’s dark curly hair. Her mother had died giving her life, and the difficult birth had left its scars on Yael. Her snubbed nose, prominent cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes announced her retardation. But she wasn’t bad, he told himself. She at least had the mental development of a six-year-old, though she was twice that age. Some brain damaged babies he’d seen were much worse off". And he loved her.

He bent down, whispering in her ear, “How’s your soup?”

She beamed up at him. “Good, Daddy. It tastes like the grass.”

“It does a little, doesn’t it?” He had to watch her constantly when he let her out in the yard or she would spend the entire day grazing and the entire night throwing up. He’d told her over and over that it wasn’t good for her, but to no avail. She liked the taste.

“Can I have some bread?” Yael asked.

“Yes, sweetheart. Aunt Sekan, please pass the bread.”

“Oh, dear me, I’m sorry,” Sekan apologized, reaching for the basket and handing it around the table. “Jasper got me so flustered, I forgot Yael likes to dip it in her soup.”

“What’d you say?”
Grandpa inquired gruffly, just catching his name.

“I said you got me flustered!”

“Well, you ought to be flustered. We’ll be next on the Magistrates’ hit list. Losacko also told me he’d heard clandestine trans that Baruch had been captured on Horeb and that’s why the Magistrates scorched it, for hiding him.”

Toca looked up, spoon held in mid-path to his mouth. “Captured? I don’t believe it. Jeremiel wouldn’t let himself get captured.”

“Who said he ‘let’ himself? Losacko told me some Gamant on Horeb betrayed him. Sold him to the Magistrates for big money.”

“Dear God, let’s hope Losacko is wrong.”

“He’s not. We’re next on the scorch list. I tell you—”

“Grandpa may be right,” Karyn said softly and everyone turned to her. At twenty-two, her pale skin glowed as satiny as a newborn’s. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls over her forehead and ears. “We’ve been trying to reach Baruch for days and haven’t been able to get through. The Magistrates seem to have thrown up some communications block that we can’t penetrate.”

“See!” Jasper exploded. “I told you. We’re going to get scorched!”

“Grandpa!” Pavel shouted as gently as he could. “We don’t know that. Major Lichtner said Slothen is going to send us an ambassador to talk things out. They just want peace.”

“Peace? Don’t be a pimple brain. They want us all dead! The best way to kill us is to make us knuckle under first, then they’ll have us right where they want us. First they force us to register, then they put up a light shield. We’ll be sitting ducks!”

Pavel gruffly crushed the napkin in his lap. His soup had gone stone cold. Nevertheless, he picked up his spoon and ate heartily, avoiding Grandpa’s stern gaze. “This is excellent soup, Aunt Sekan.”

She smiled, reaching around the table to squeeze his daughter’s plump arm. “I knew it was Yael’s favorite.”

“I love you, Auntie,” Yael said and giggled, putting a hand over her mouth like Pavel had told her to. He winked at her.

“I love you, too, baby.” Sekan checked everyone’s soup bowl, then pushed back her chair. “Well, I think I’ll bring out the main course if everybody’s ready.”

“Sure,” Toca said happily. “It’s the perfect time.”

Pavel lifted his bowl and finished his soup, eyeing his cousin over the rim. Karyn sat with her eyes downcast, glancing uneasily at him. Pavel sipped his Alizarin wine and looked at her in a kindly way. More his sister than his cousin, she’d been a mother for Yael for all the years since his beloved Absa had died.

“Karyn,” he said warmly, “how’s school going? Papa said you’ve been taking mostly physics and chemistry courses.”

She gave him a sly smile, as if acknowledging his attempts to find a more pleasant topic of conversation. “Mostly, yes.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Plus the Underground has been teaching us Magisterial technology. It’s very interesting.”

The government hadn’t installed listening devices yet. At least, he didn’t think so. They checked every day. Karyn’s actions were just instinctive. Years ago, the Magistrates had burned out the old University and decreed that anyone found attending secret Underground classes would be shot on sight.

“So, if Baruch’s alive, you can be the captain for the next battle cruiser he steals, is that right?” he joked.

A small round of laughter passed through the group. Only Grandpa scowled, but everyone knew why. He didn’t approve of women learning science. Only in the past fifty years had it been allowed on Tikkun, and then reluctantly. The planet still clung to the old ways in every other respect. But the University meant life for the Gamant people. Nearly everyone realized that now. Once a year, Jeremiel sent scouts to Tikkun, looking for the best the University had to offer to fill his crews. And Karyn had studied very hard in the hope she’d be chosen.

She pushed blonde locks out of her eyes, glancing at Grandpa. “They upgraded my rating last week. I’m now a level one weapons specialist.”

“Ah,” Pavel said, smiling proudly. “That’s even better. When the time comes, you can protect cowards like me.”

“You? A coward? Don’t be modest,” she teased. “I remember when I was seven and you beat up that bully at school who tried to kiss me. You—”

“Weapons,”
Grandpa muttered under his breath, but everybody heard—just as he’d intended. Once he discovered he had their attention, he blustered, “Women don’t have the temperament for things like that. What would you do, eh?” he asked as Aunt Sekan whirled out of the kitchen with a plate heaped high with broiled strips of lamb. “Could you look a Magisterial marine straight in the eyes and shoot his guts out?”

Sekan stopped, a horrified look on her face as she set the trembling platter on the table. “
What
are we discussing?”

Karyn heaved a tense sigh. “War, Mother. If I had to, Grandpa. I don’t want to kill anyone, but if they come to hurt me or my family, I will.”

“Bah!” Grandpa spat. “You’ll fall apart, start crying or something, and they’ll kill you before you can see straight again.”

Toca, who’d sat quietly through the exchange, intervened. “I’ve talked to her teacher, Jasper. He says she’s the best in her class.” He smiled at Karyn. “Freia said she could shoot the eye out of a dove on the wing at a thousand yards.”