Wings of Creation (29 page)

He laughed softly. “Shhhhh. Get ready.”

Folded blankets formed lumpy cushions for Kayleen and I. We sat side by side near Marcus’s head, leaning against the cool wall. My left hand found Kayleen’s right hand, and we each touched one of Marcus’s shoulders, forming a bridge to connect us all.

“Follow my breath,” Marcus whispered, his voice so low we barely heard him even in the silence of the cave room. My hand on him rose and fell as he breathed.

In time our breathing matched, long and slow, the out breath the same as the in breath, the sound a faint metronome.

We slowed further, falling into the deep patterns Marcus had taught me long ago, and I had taught Kayleen.

The data here felt quick and lively, linked with the war room rather than Lopali; shields were built into the very walls of this room, the war room, and a few others. Shielding gave the information purity, and we fell quickly.

Marcus’s skills awed me still . . . he knit a wall between us and everything, a place where no data leaked in or out. He had done this between he and I, on Silver’s Home, but never between three of us. Even watching carefully, I wasn’t sure I saw how to do it. After we were enclosed in a void of data, a place emptier than the dark of space, he allowed one great rope of data threads through; the fliers’ patterns. Genetics and DNA, but also more, a linkage of nanotechnology and DNA, of machine and human.

Pure biology would not have been enough to keep the fliers human and let them fly, even here. Or to keep Marcus, me, and Kayleen more human than AI, more man than machine. This close, the complexity of creation awed.

Always teaching, Marcus fed us data bit by bit, streaming what he saw through his very being and into us. Kayleen and I gripped hands from time to time as some new insight came, the physical activity an anchor, something felt in our bodies as well as in the data streams we had nearly become, a ghost of who we were inside of who we were. Touch served to slow us as well. It kept us safe from the hyper-speed of taking in too much data too fast, of becoming overwhelmed the way I had been when I first encountered the richness of Silver’s Home.

Touch had another purpose. As Marcus fed us the thin bones and supple skin of flier genetics, we gave him our strength, pouring steadiness and support into his energies, making a lattice of all three hearts: of blood and bone and family and common design. As he helped us see the machine cells that repaired the fine strength of fliers’ bones and turned food to fuel fast enough for flight, we fed him back what we saw, the three of us deepening and correcting, three observers making what each one saw more true for us all.

We were inside the skins of one another, and I knew Kayleen and Marcus both more than I knew Alicia, more, perhaps, than I knew myself. To know another human so deeply is more than love.

Paula’s facial features layered through the data, patient and trusting as always. This was not her, but a simulation, a place to adjust and change balances and fulcrums until we found a new design that would allow a flier woman to bear a child who would be ready to become a flier.

A living simulation made of the marriage between a moment in time of Paula and all the knowledge of the genetics databases from Silver’s Home that Marcus had been able to squirrel away over time as a maker. Some bore Chance’s signature; information he had brought from Silver’s Home when he came here years ago.

A pause. A moment when we all hung in understanding, seeing Paula as she was when this full scan was taken, seeing the many moving parts that make life continue forward, the simulation so real she might have spoken and we might have replied. Rivers of blood ran smoothly, slowing and speeding up slightly with the thumping of her heart. Cells divided and grew, died and disappeared. Neurons fired. Tissue and bone flexed where they connected.

Life vibrated.

We had done this already with a simulation of a normal human, and now Marcus clarified the differences: finer, stronger bones; larger lungs; eyes that saw above and behind almost as well as in front; a longer, broader torso above slender hips. Even though she had no wings, Paula’s back was designed to flex wings. It would be strong enough had she undergone the changes forced on flier children. The base structures for flight existed in front of us, longer and lighter muscles, more muscles, changes in the shoulders and the shoulder blades. Strengthening all along a spine more flexible than ours.

My focus felt both heightened and laser sharp, and split between Marcus, Kayleen, and the figment of Paula that we all held in common. There was nothing else in our consciousness except each other and this Paula. No stray data, no wind, just a single being as complex as a world in front of us. A miracle to see so much, and hard to hold it all even stripped to just essence. Yes, it was a simulation, but we would need to change it perfectly to do the next thing. Our actions here would form the foundation we needed to make them real. Marcus’s garden grass and light-link butterflies, only a thousand thousand times more intricate.

Marcus began to work. He strengthened the walls of organs, shifted veins, built structures: a painter in data and simulated flesh.

All the time, cells divided, a heart beat, and Paula’s simulated face held its patience.

He went forward and back—trying and undoing. Trying again.
Sometimes he gave me very simple things to do and steadied me with questions.
Will enough blood reach the ovary?

How do I tell?

Check the organ itself, the new tissue. Are the cells growing stronger or weaker?

Weaker?

You tell me.

Yes. So more?

Only a little.

My touch felt hesitant.
I’m afraid.

Let go.

More of the interrelationships of cells and machines, of blood and tissue, and breath and life flowed into me. It felt like a ghost of what had happened back on the High Road at the height of battle, when I could see all of the ships and all of the people and all of the data and it was joy and beauty and strength, and I had the strength to fling the ship into the sea.

I flinched, lost threads.

Don’t back out!

Damn you.

Claim your power. It is only a simple thing.

Compared to what he did. But I made the blood flow stronger.

Relax now, and watch me.

Gladly.
I had nearly thrown us all out. I couldn’t worry about my past right now, maybe I never could.

Time passed. I didn’t count my own heartbeats or the simulation’s breath and heartbeat either, until I began to feel my energy lag, and the ragged edges of Kayleen’s strength begin to ebb away from us. In her thinning, I felt my own weakness.

I couldn’t leave Marcus. He was totally focused on forming a wider hinge on the hips in front of us, on thinning the bone even further, each move slow and careful. Who would have thought that manipulating data that you could never feel would be so physically hard?

Marcus pulled on me as he shaped and sculpted, needing my strength and my focus even as Kayleen drained back into her body, taking some of my power.

I clamped down on Kayleen’s physical hand, sparing reserves to send her way.

She yelped softly, and her energy withdrew like a wave falling away from us, pulled out by some other tide.

I had to stay with Marcus, to get his attention.

Vibration. Kayleen’s voice falling into me, speaking to someone. Not me! “We’ll . . . just . . . be right there. Hold on.”

Marcus noticed her absence, finally. I felt his regret as the simulation thinned to us and we rose up to feel our own breath and heart. We’d only started.

Marcus’s voice next. “Who is it?”

“Induan,” Kayleen whispered to Marcus. “Can you open the door?”

For he had to, or it had to be done from outside, and Induan knew not to disturb us. Being so deep and shielded from any other data left us vulnerable, and she and Sasha guarded the corridor.

The door lock made a soft sound and the door opened. I should not have been surprised—I had done such things on the
Dawnforce
when we freed the children from the mercenaries. I blinked, the sudden light so painful I came back fully, the simulated Paula fading like a dream after awakening. Sasha bounded into me, licking my face, nosing at me. One look at Induan’s face made me bite my tongue and wait. Her lips were drawn tight and her face even paler than usual. A tear hung in the corner of one eye, the only bit of her that wasn’t anger and anxiety. One hand gripped the edge of the door frame. Her voice quivered, the words spoken faster than I’d ever heard her. “Alicia and Bryan are missing. There’s been no more word from the Gang of Girls.”

Alicia had been with Chelo.

Kayleen drew in a sharp, pained breath.

“Chelo and Liam and the kids?” My voice sounded like a frog’s. “Are they okay?”

Induan swallowed. “I think so. You need to hear the whole story. Seeyan is here to tell.”

Marcus pushed himself up and stood to face Induan. I could see him struggle for the control that usually cloaked him, see the deep slow breath he forced low into his body, the tensing and releasing of muscles. After a second deep breath, he reached a hand out for me and Kayleen, helping us stand. “Let’s go,” he said.

Sasha stuck close by me, and Kayleen kept a grip on my hand as we followed Induan’s pale form closer to the mouth of the cave. Daggers of early evening light pouring directly into the cave forced my hand up over my eyes and made a silhouette of Seeyan’s tall, slightly misshapen form. We sat in a rough circle, with the back open so no one would have to stare at the sinking sun. A breeze blew in the scent of dust and flowers.

“What happened?” Marcus asked.

Seeyan shook her head. “No one knows. Chelo and Liam and the children were in the gardens, and when they returned, Alicia and Bryan were gone. Their Keeper said—” Seeyan choked and looked away. “Their Keeper said Alicia and Bryan tied up a Keeper.”

How Alicia. “Did she say why?” I asked.

“Do they know where we are?” Kayleen’s hands twisted knots into her hair. “It’s always Alicia. It was her at home, too. She ran away from us on the Plains.”

“Shhhh.” I said. Maybe Seeyan didn’t need to know Alicia was our risk-taker. “Let Seeyan tell her story.”

“There isn’t any more. The Keeper—Samuel—didn’t know. But it’s a grave choice to mess with a Keeper of the Morning. She’s offered a deep insult to us all.”

Marcus nodded, his face blanched so white his lips were nearly colorless. “And you brought her there. We are sorry.”

“Where are the Keepers of the Morning?” Chelo was there. I could find her.

Seeyan shook her head and looked beseechingly at Marcus.

Anger showed in the set of his jaw. I watched him swallow it and waited him out, hoping for a clear answer. When he looked at me, sorrowful eyes peered from a determined and unhappy face. “I’m sorry. Maybe we will have to go there.” He gestured at the open window of the cave mouth. “But not now. We’ll see what other news comes by morning.”

“But . . . but Chelo! I have to know she’s safe. And Jenna. Jenna saved us. We have to save her.”

Kayleen added her voice to mine. “What if Alicia does something stupid?”

A short barky laugh escaped Marcus’s lips. “She already has.” He
turned to Seeyan. “I’m sure Chelo’s safe. Still no word from Jenna or the others? Ming?”

Seeyan shook her head, her normal calm seeming to have fallen back on her now that she’d warned us we’d offended her, and maybe all of Lopali. She and Marcus. How did they do this? Did living a long time make you calm?

Kayleen seemed more like I felt; not exactly calm. “Tsawo is here.” She gave me an almost apologetic glance. “Maybe he knows why she would leave. They’ve spent a lot of time together.”

I immediately disliked the idea. “Not in the past few days, they haven’t. He’s been with us.”

She looked hurt.

“All right.” Maybe it was a good idea. I just didn’t like it. “What else should we do? Marcus, do you promise we’ll leave in the morning?”

“I didn’t say that. I said we’d see what news the night brought. This may be the safest place for you on all of Lopali. I should have planned to bring you here in the first place.”

That was as much of an apology as I’d get. How was he still thinking of work? With Jenna still missing and Alicia running amok?

Seeyan stood gracefully. “I’ll go and look for them, or for news. I’ll return in the morning.”

Induan spoke up. “I’ll go with you. I can use my mod.”

Marcus didn’t stop her. The two of them walked into the still-bright sun and disappeared down the trail. Kayleen glowered at the door. “Why does she get to go?”

Marcus spoke softly. “She doesn’t matter as much as you do. Either of you.”

“You know, I really, really hate that.”

Kayleen took my hand. “It’s true. You saved us.”

“Don’t you get that way on me,” I said. “I need to be just like I always was. And I need to find my sister.”

Marcus still looked at the place Induan and Seeyan had disappeared. “Your sister’s safe. The people she’s with wouldn’t hurt her. But we three had better eat and get back to work.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Food or work?”

“Both.” Work. But I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want to work. I did. I just wanted to work and find Chelo and sleep all at once. “I need a minute alone. I’m going to take Sasha out.”

He sighed. “Don’t leave.”

“I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“Can I come with you?” Kayleen asked.

I didn’t really want her. I wanted the dog and the coming sunset and a few moments of peace. But I’d already said hurtful things to her a few times today and she didn’t deserve any of them. “How about if you two get food, enough for me, too, and we can watch the sunset together.”

I got a reward; they both smiled.

Outside, the sun had slipped far enough down to lengthen shadows so I looked absurdly tall and slender. It softened the edges of the cave mouth and slightly dulled the flowers and vines hanging down from the rocks above and around the cave. Even here, where there was some raggedness, Lopali felt too ordered, too neat. Too safe, except we were missing and separated all over again. A place I didn’t even need to worry about the safety of a dog. Still, I whistled Sasha close. I sat on a rock, her beside me with her nose on my shoulder and a bit of her weight leaning in while I stroked her soft fur.