City of Golden Shadow, Page 63

  "Just watch out for loose concrete or unmarked stairwells, or things like that," she called to him. He turned and gave her a look she could not quite make out by firelight, but which she assumed was disgusted. The shadowed ceiling was so high and the lot so broad that he seemed to stand far away across a flat desert; for a moment her perspective flipped and instead of inside they were outside, so completely outside that there were no walls anywhere. The sensation was dizzying; she had to put her hands down on the cool concrete to steady herself.

  "This is a good fire," !Xabbu declared. The others, used to a larger selection of amenities, stared at him glumly. The meal had been satisfactory, and for a while Renie had been able to ignore their situation and almost enjoy herself, as if they were simply camping, but that had not lasted long.

  !Xabbu studied his companions' expressions. "I think it would be a good time to tell a story," he said suddenly. "I know one that seems appropriate."

  Renie broke the subsequent silence. "Please, tell it."

  "It is a story of despair and what overcomes it. I think it is a good story to tell on this night, when friends are together around a fire." He flashed his eye-wrinkling smile. "First, though, you must know a little bit about my people. I have told Renie stories already, about Old Grandfather Mantis and others of the Early Race. The stories are of long ago, of a time when all animals were people, and Grandfather Mantis himself still walked the earth. But this is one story that is not about him.

  "The men of my people are hunters—or were, since there are almost none left who live in the old way. My father himself was a hunter, a desert Bushman, and it was his pursuit of an eland that led him out of the land he knew to my mother. I have told Renie that story, and I will not tell it again tonight. But when the men of my people went out to hunt, often they had to travel far from their women and children to find game.

  "The greatest hunters of all, though, are the stars up in the sky. My people watched them crossing the sky at night, and knew that the Bushmen were not the only ones who must travel long and far through difficult places. And the mightiest of all those great hunters is the one that you call the Morning Star, but we call the Heart of Dawn. He is the most tireless tracker in all the world, and his spear flies farther and more swiftly than any other.

  "Back in the ancient days, the Heart of Dawn wished to take a wife. All the people of the Early Race brought their daughters in hopes that the greatest hunter of all would pick one for his bride. Elephant and python, springbuck and long-nosed mouse, all danced before him, but none spoke to his heart. Of the cats, the lioness was too large, the she-leopard covered with blotches. He solemnly dismissed them all, one at a time, until his eyes fell upon the lynx. She was like a flame to him, with her bright coat and her ears like the glimmering tongues of fire. He felt that she, of all those who had passed before him, was the one that he should marry.

  "When her father agreed to Heart of Dawn's request—as of course he did—there was a feast and dancing and singing. All the people of the Early Race came. There was some jealousy among those whose daughters were not chosen, but food and music helped to ease that evil in most hearts. The only one who did not join in the celebration was Hyena, from whose daughter the Heart of Dawn had turned away. Hyena was proud, and so was his daughter. They felt themselves to be insulted.

  "Once they were married, Heart of Dawn came to love his Lynx more and more. She conceived a child and soon a son was born to them. In his joy with his new wife the great hunter brought her back fine things from his journeys in the sky—earrings, bracelets for her arms and ankles, and a beautiful cape made of hide—and she wore them with happiness. Since she was a proper married woman, and so did not leave her fire at night while her husband was away hunting across the sky, her young sister came to visit with her. Together they spoke and laughed and played with Lynx's baby son while they awaited Heart of Dawn's return.

  "But Hyena and his daughter still felt anger sour in their stomachs, and so old Hyena, who was cunning beyond almost any other, sent his daughter in secret to the camp of Lynx and Heart of Dawn. There was a food, ant eggs, that Lynx enjoyed more than any other. If she had any fault, it was that she was a little greedy, since before she had married Heart of Dawn she had often been hungry, and always when she found the sweet white eggs, which look like grains of rice, she would eat them all. Knowing this, Hyena's Daughter gathered a pile of ant eggs to leave where Lynx would find them, but first she took her own musk, the perspiration from her armpit, and mixed it with them. Then Hyena's Daughter left the eggs and hid herself.

  "Lynx and her sister were foraging for food when Lynx came upon the pile of ant eggs. 'Oh,' she cried, 'here is a good thing! Here is a good thing!' But her sister was suspicious, and said: 'There is something foul-smelling about this food. I do not think it is good to eat.' But Lynx was too excited. 'I must eat them,' she said, picking up all the ant eggs, 'because the time might be long until I find such a thing again.'

  "Lynx's sister, though, would not eat any of the eggs, because the smell of Hyena's Daughter's musk was troubling to her.

  "When they arrived back at camp, Lynx began to feel a pain in her belly and her head grew hot as though she leaned too near a fire. She could not sleep that night or the next. Her sister scolded her for being greedy, and brought their mother to help. but the old woman could do nothing and Lynx became sicker and sicker. She pushed away her young son. She cried and vomited and her eyes rolled up in her head. One by one her beautiful ornaments began to fall away and drop to the ground, first her earrings, then her arm bracelets and her ankle bracelets, her cape of hide, even the leather thongs of her sandals, until she lay naked and weeping. At that moment Lynx stood up and ran away into the darkness.

  "Lynx's mother was so terrified that she ran back to her own camp to tell her husband that their daughter was dying, but her sister followed Lynx where she fled.

  "When the camp was empty, Hyena's Daughter entered into it from the dark night beyond the firelight. First she put on Lynx's fallen earrings, then she picked up and donned her ostrich-shell bracelets and her cape of hide, even her sandals. When she had done this, Hyena's Daughter sat down beside the fire and laughed, saying: 'Now I am Heart of Dawn's wife, as I should have been.'

  "Lynx fled into the bush and her sister followed her. In her unhappiness, Lynx ran until she came to a place of reeds and water, and there she sat, weeping and crying out. Her sister came to her and called: 'Why do you not come back to your home? What if your husband returns and you are not beside the fire? Will he not fear for you?' But Lynx only went farther back into the reeds, until she was standing knee-deep in the water, and said: 'I feel the spirit of the Hyena in me. I am lonely and afraid and the darkness has fallen on me.'

  "Because of what happened to Lynx, my people still say 'the time of the Hyena' is upon someone when that person's spirit is ill.

  "Lynx's sister held forth Lynx's son and said: 'Your baby wants to suckle—look, he is hungry! You must give him your breast.' And for a little while Lynx was persuaded to come and suckle her baby, but then she put him down and fled back into the water again, deeper this time, so that it reached her waist. Each time her sister persuaded her to come out and nurse her baby, Lynx held her son for a shorter time, and each time she retreated to the waters she went in deeper, until the water was almost to her mouth.

  "At last Lynx's sister went away in sorrow, taking the baby boy back to the fireside to be warmed, for it was cold beneath the night sky and colder where the reeds grew. But when she approached the camp, she saw a person with glowing eyes sitting at the fire, dressed In all of Lynx's clothes and ornaments. 'Ah!' said this person, 'there is my baby son! Why have you stolen him? Give him to me now.' For a moment Lynx's sister was amazed, thinking that it was her sister returned from the reeds and the water, but then she smelled the stink of hyena and was fearful. She held the boy tightly in her arms and ran away from the fire while Hyena's Daughter howled after her, 'Bring back my child! I am th
e wife of Heart of Dawn!'

  "Lynx's sister knew then what had happened, and knew that by the time her brother-in-law returned from his long journey across the sky, it would be too late to save her sister. She went to a high place and lifted her head to the dark night, and began losing:

  Heart of Dawn, hear me, hear me! Heart of Dawn, come back from your hunt! Your wife is ill, your child is hungry! Heart of Dawn, this is a bad time!

  "She sang this over and over, louder and louder, until at last the great hunter heard her. He came rushing back across the sky, eyes flashing, until he stood before Lynx's sister. She told him everything that had happened and he grew furiously angry. He ran to his camp. When he got there, Hyena's Daughter stood up, her stolen earrings and bracelets tinkling. She tried to make her deep, growling voice sweet like Lynx's as she said to him: 'Husband, you have returned! And what have you brought back for your wife? Have you brought game? Have you brought gifts?'

  " 'Only one gift have I brought you, and this is it!' said Heart of Dawn, flinging his spear. The she-hyena shrieked and sprang away, and the spear missed her—the only time Heart of Dawn ever missed his cast, for the Hyena magic is old and very strong—but as she dodged it, she stepped into the fire and the coals burnt her legs, which made her shriek even louder. She cast aside Lynx's stolen belongings and ran away as swiftly as she could, limping from the pain of her bums. And if you see a hyena today, you will see that he walks as though his feet are tender, as do all the offspring of Hyena's Daughter, and that his legs are still blackened from Heart of Dawn's fire.

  "And so when the hunter had driven the interloper away, he went to the place of waters and brought his wife out again, and gave her back her ornaments and clothing, and placed her young son in her arms once more. Then, with Lynx's sister beside them, they returned to their camp. And now, when the morning star we call Heart of Dawn returns from his hunting, he always comes swiftly, and even the dark night runs from him. When he appears, you can see night flee along the horizon, the red dust rising up from its heels. And that is the end of my story."

  All was silent after the small man had finished. Jeremiah slowly nodded his head, as though he had heard something confirmed that he had long believed. Long Joseph was nodding, too, but for a different reason; he had dozed off.

  "That was . . . wonderful," Renie said at last. !Xabbu's tale had seemed oddly vivid, yet familiar, too, as though she had heard parts of it before, although she knew she had not. "That was—it reminded me of so many things."

  "I am glad you heard it. I hope you will remember it when you are unhappy. We all must pray for the kindness of others to give us strength."

  For a moment, the glow of the fire seemed to fill the room, pushing the shadows back. Renie allowed herself the luxury of a little hope.

  She stared down over a broad, night-blotted desert from above. Whether she sat in the branches of a tree or on the steps of a hillside, she could not tell. People perched on every side of her, although she could barely see them.

  "I'm glad you've come to stay in my house," said Susan Van Bleeck from the darkness beside her. "It's too high in the air, of course—sometimes I worry that everyone will fall off."

  "But I can't stay." Renie was afraid of hurting Susan's feelings, but she knew it had to be said. "I have to go and take Stephen his school things. Papa will be angry if I don't."

  She felt a dry, bony hand close on her wrist. "Oh, but you can't leave. He is out there, you know."

  "He is?" Renie felt a mounting agitation. "But I have to go across! I have to take Stephen his books for school!" The idea of her brother waiting for her, alone and crying, vied with the dreadful import of the doctor's words. She only vaguely knew what or who Susan meant, but she knew what it signified was bad.

  "Of course he is! He smells us!" The grip on Renie's arm tightened. "He hates us because we're up here and because we're warm when he's so cold."

  Even as the doctor spoke, Renie felt something—a spike of chill wind coming in off the desert. The other near-invisible shapes felt it, too, and there was a rush of frightened whispering.

  "But I can't stay here. Stephen is out there, on the other side."

  "But you can't go down there either." The doctor's voice seemed different now and so did her smell. "He is waiting—I told you! He's always waiting, because he's always on the outside."

  It was not the doctor, sitting beside her in the darkness, it was her mother. Renie recognized her voice and the scent of the lemony perfume she had liked to wear.

  "Mama?" There was no reply, but she could feel her mother's warmth only a few inches away. As Renie began to speak again, she sensed something new, something that froze her with fear. Something was out there, prowling in the darkness beneath them, snuffling for something to devour.

  "Silence!" her mother hissed. "He's very close, child!"

  A stink rose toward them, a strange chilly smell of dead things and old, once-burnt things and musty, deserted places. With the smell came a feeling, as strong and clear to Renie's senses as the stench—a tangible wave of wretched evil, of jealousy and gnawing hatred and misery and utter, utter loneliness, the emanation from something that had been consigned to darkness since before time itself began, and which knew nothing of the light except that it hated it.

  Renie suddenly did not ever want to leave that high place.

  "Mama," she began, "I need to. . . ."

  Suddenly her feet slipped out from beneath her, and she was plummeting helplessly into blackness, falling, falling, and the wretched, hateful, powerful thing below was opening its great foul jaws to catch her. . . .

  Renie sat up gasping, her blood pounding in her ears. For a long moment she did not know where she was. When she remembered, it was not much better.

  Exiled. Fugitive. Driven into a strange and unknown land.

  The last sensation of the dream, of falling toward a waiting evil, had not entirely left her. She felt sickened, and her skin was stippled with gooseflesh. The time of the Hyena, she thought, tempted toward despair. Like !Xabbu said. And it's really here.

  It was hard even to lie back down, but she forced herself. The regular breathing of the others, which floated and echoed in the great darkness above her, was her only link to the light.

  You mean we could have had the electricity on last night?" Long Joseph thrust his hands in his pockets and leaned forward "Instead of sitting around some fire?"

  "The power is on, yes." Renie was frustrated at having to explain again. "It's power for the building to do self-maintenance, and for the security systems. But that doesn't mean we should use it any more than we have to."

  "I hurt my foot trying to find a toilet in the dark. I could have fallen down some hole and broke my neck. . . ."

  "Look, Papa," she began, then stopped. Why did she keep fighting the same battles? She turned and walked across the wide cement floor toward the elevators.

  "How is it going?" she asked.

  !Xabbu looked up. "Mister Singh is still working."

  "Six hours," said Jeremiah. "We aren't ever going to get this thing open. I didn't expect to spend the rest of my life in a bloody parking garage."

  Singh's voice buzzed from the pad, compressed to a fraction of the usual bandwidth. "Jesus, all you lot do is complain! Just be grateful that this place has been shut down, or decommissioned, or whatever the hell you call it. It could have been a damn sight harder to get in than it was—not to mention the lack of armed guards, which certainly would have added to the difficulty." He sounded more hurt than angry, perhaps at having his abilities questioned. "I'll get it eventually, but these are the original palm-print readers. Those are quite a bit tougher to crack than a simple code system!"

  "I know," Renie said. "And we're grateful. It's been difficult, that's all. The last few days have been stressful."

  "Stressful?" The old man's voice took on an offended tone. "You should try to break into the world's most carefully guarded network with the nurse coming in every few mi
nutes to check your bedpan or insist you finish your rice pudding. And there aren't any locks on the doors in the goddamn place, so I've got senile old bastards pushing in on me all the time because they think it's their own room. Not to mention I have gastric pains like you wouldn't believe from the medication I'm on. And meanwhile I'm just trying to get you past the security system of a top-secret military base. I'll tell you about stressful."

  Thoroughly rebuked, Renie walked away. Her head hurt and she was out of painblockers. She lit a cigarette, although she didn't really want one.

  "No one is happy today," !Xabbu said quietly. Renie jumped. She hadn't heard him approach.

  "What about you? You seem happy enough."

  !Xabbu's look was tinged with sad amusement. Renie felt a tug of guilt at the sharpness of her response. "Of course I am not happy, Renie. I am unhappy because of what has happened to you and your family. I am unhappy because I cannot go forward with the thing I wish to do most in all the world. And I am fearful that we have discovered something truly dangerous, as I have told you, and that it is beyond our powers to do anything about it. But being angry will not help us, at least not now." He smiled a little and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Perhaps later, when things are better, I will be angry."

  She was again grateful for his calm good nature, but with that gratitude came a small note of resentment. His even disposition made her feel she was being forgiven, time after time, and she did not like being forgiven for anything.

  "When things are better? Are you that sure that things will be better?"

  He shrugged. "It is a matter of words. In my birth language there are more ifs than whens, but I must make a choice every time I speak a sentence in English. I try to choose the happier way of saying things, so that my own words will not weigh me down like stones. Does that make sense?"

  "I think so."

  "Renie!" Jeremiah sounded alarmed. She turned in time to see the light flash above one of the elevators. A moment later, the door slid open.