Homesmind (9 page)

FIVE

The shuttle skimmed over the land, its runners brushing the tips of tall grass blades. Ahead, Anra could see a landscape of low, rolling hills; to the south, the grassy roofs of a few huts were barely visible.

The craft lifted itself as they approached the hills. Anra knew that Lydee could have made the trip in less time. The shuttle could have soared above the clouds and then dropped toward their destination. But her aunt had sensed that traveling that way would have disturbed and disoriented Silla and Harel.

Lydee was resting in the seat next to Anra's, letting the craft pilot itself along the path she had set. Behind them, Marellon was keeping Anra's parents occupied in musings about old times.

Anra kept up her wall, saying nothing. She had smiled at Silla and Harel before climbing into the craft, hoping they might see that she was regretting her hard words, but they had looked uncomfortable in her presence. Now she felt angry with them once more. If it hadn't been for them, she could have stayed with Rulek, who might have needed her more; she had sensed the sorrow that was still inside him.

A hand holding a wafer suddenly appeared at her side; Anra turned. Marellon was offering her food. She took it, then accepted a glass of wine. Marellon leaned back. Harel, sitting next to him, was nibbling at a large red piece of fruit. Silla wasn't eating at all; she stared absently at the land outside the shuttle's dome, her face turned away from her daughter.

Marellon sat up abruptly, his mouth open. Harel's eyes widened as his face grew pale; Silla reached for her partner's hand. In that instant, Anra felt a dizzying ripple.

Her mind suddenly fell in on itself, becoming a hard, solid object. The tenuous cords of the Net were gone; she could hear nothing except the low hum of the craft. She pushed against her wall, unable to move it; she was deaf and blind to all other thoughts. She let out a cry and the wall shattered.

The craft was filled with the buzzing of frightened minds. Lydee clutched the arms of her seat; her lips were pressed tightly together.

"Did you feel it?" Harel said aloud. Marellon nodded. "We felt the same thing before, once, in our village."

"What was it?" Anra managed to ask.

"A malfunction," Lydee answered. "The Minds failing temporarily. That's all it could be."

Silla stretched out on her seat; her face had a yellowish tinge. "It's gone now." Her face contorted. "But what about the next time, and the next? And what happens if the Minds fail altogether?"

"They must have repaired the problem by now," Marellon answered. "You shouldn't worry."

"Shouldn't worry!" Silla's dark eyes were wide with fear. "The last time we felt it, a friend was flying toward our home. Had she been farther from the ground, the fall would have killed her when she lost her powers. As it is, she broke some bones." She sat up. "It could happen again. I'm afraid to fly now. Imagine it—being injured, without even the power to reach inside yourself and heal your wounds." Harel took her hand, trying to soothe his partner.

"I spoke to the Minds a short time ago," Anra said. "I was inside one of the mountains where They're housed. They told me we had nothing to fear." She wanted to believe that.

Her mother's eyes narrowed. She was gazing at Anra with suspicion, and Anra caught a glimpse of Silla's thoughts. Silla feared her and feared the village of which her daughter was a part.

Silla leaned toward Lydee. "Is your Homesmind aware of this problem? You've mentioned Its great wisdom often enough. Why doesn't It tell you what's wrong with the Minds?"

"It is trying to find out," Lydee replied, then paused. "Strange, isn't it? You recoil from skydwellers and their ways, and yet you came to me for help."

"You are my sister," Silla said. "But it seems that skydwellers are as helpless in this matter as we are."

"And that means we're useless to you, so you despise us all the more. Yet if we solve everything for you, you'd bring yourself to accept us then."

Silla looked away.

By early afternoon, they were rushing toward a mountain range that reached to the clouds. Anra leaned forward, peering at the white peaks on the horizon. These were not like the mountains she knew, which now seemed more like hills in comparison.

"We'll soon be home," Harel said.

The shuttle shot up, rising until the ground below was hidden by mist. Mountain peaks floated on a sea of clouds. Anra looked down, noting patches of green among the rocky slopes. The ground tilted; a wall of rock was before them. The craft dropped. Anra clutched her armrests, suddenly dizzy even though she could feel no movement. They fell past the cliffs rapidly. Ahead, a waterfall cascaded down a mountainside, feeding a large spring. On the steep slope facing the waterfall, small wooden houses nestled among tall evergreens.

The craft alighted next to the spring. People began to float down the mountainside toward them; others hurried along winding paths. Hundreds of thoughts buffeted Anra; she raised her wall as the craft's door slid open and Marellon led her parents outside.

Anra jumped out, followed by Lydee. A little girl released a woman's hand and ran to Silla, who hugged her. Two boys peered up at Anra, then giggled, pointing at her cloth garments; they, like everyone else here, were wearing hides and fur.

Harel motioned to Anra. She went to his side, trying to smile. —This is Kani— he said, waving at the little girl. —Kani, this is Anra, your sister—

The girl shook back her dark-brown hair and stared at Anra with her large brown eyes. —Hello— Anra thought.

Kani made a face. "You're not my sister," she said out loud.

—But I am—

"No, you're not. You're different."

—Hush— Harel scolded.

Villagers began to crowd around them. —I see a tiny light like the skydweller woman's— one man thought.

—Your mind is strange, girl— a woman said.

—Greetings, child—

—A light pulses—

—Can you hear me?— a boy asked.

—Of course she hears you— Harel said. Anra touched his mind cautiously, allowing herself to sense it for the first time. His thoughts were gentle. She had expected him to be harder somehow, more uncaring. —My sons are not here—

—They're with Urran— a few people answered. Silla frowned.

— Then we had better fetch them— Harel glanced at Anra, clearly expecting her to accompany them. She hung back.

—Go on— Lydee said. —Marellon and I must speak to the old ones here, though we have little to tell them. You may join us later—

A few of the villagers were wandering away. Anra raised her wall, following Silla and Harel.

As they climbed along the winding path, Anra's legs began to ache. She was already breathing hard; the air seemed thinner here. Harel carried his small daughter on his back; Kani turned occasionally to look at her sister, but did not smile.

Anra opened a small mental channel. This village was unlike her own; its Net seemed to bind its people more tightly. The people here were tied together by family, strong friendship, tradition, and a shared purpose. They did not see themselves as individuals, but as aspects of a unity that had been unchanged for hundreds of cycles. Her own village once must have been like this one.

Silla stopped in front of one house. An old man lay-on a mat outside the door, drinking from a wineskin a boy was holding for him. A smaller boy sat at his feet. Anra sensed death; the old man was weak. She thought of Cerwen.

—You kept our sons from greeting us, Urran— Harel chided the old man gently. The smaller boy jumped to his feet; he was dark-haired, like Silla. The older boy had Harel's auburn hair; he gazed steadily at Anra with brown eyes.

The old man smiled. —They've behaved well in your absence. I know you asked others to look after them, but Brun took it into his head that I needed tending, so they've been with me much of the time—

Silla frowned still more, clearly made uneasy by the old man.

—Brun— Harel waved at the older bov. —And Sel. This is Anra, your sister—

—Greetings— Sel said.

—The solitary child— old Urran murmured as he plucked at his thin, white beard. —The one who consorts with skydwellers in a village of solitaries. She brings us no news of the Minds, Who failed us again today—

—We know— Silla said. —We felt it during our travels—

"Ah," the old man suddenly sighed aloud. —You did not have to travel to that far place to know what is happening. I have told you before. This is the approaching end of a great cycle. God will let out a breath, and the world will end, and then begin again. We shall become something else, I feel it. God is ready to draw us in—

Anra recalled Cerwen's words; he had also spoken of a cycle's end.

—I know what you think, Urran— Silla said. —You have these thoughts only because the end of your own life is not far away—

—No, Silla. It's more than that. Through the Minds, I sometimes sense the thoughts of others far away, and a few others have sensed what I do. A cycle is ending, and a voice, so distant that I can barely hear it, beckons to me—

He focused on Anra. The look in his eyes was suddenly so fierce that she threw up her wall, but not before he had glimpsed her thoughts.

—You understand, girl. Your skydweller friends have seen an approaching visitor. Perhaps it is that which calls to me. God may be working through that far star—

—You're wrong— Anra replied. — The visitor has not spoken— But she was thinking of the faint whisper Homesmind had sensed.

—Our Merging Selves have sensed nothing— Silla said. —You delude yourself, Urran. God is calling to you because you will soon join the Merged One yourself—

—Perhaps— the old man thought, smiling.

—We must go— Harel said, waving an arm at Brun.

The boy stood up slowly, leaning against the side of the house, and Anra noticed with a shock that the limbs under his leather leggings were too thin. Brun reached for two long, forked sticks and fitted them under his arms. Anra had thought that those crutches belonged to the old man.

The boy hobbled toward them. A wave of pity flowed out from Anra to Brun. He glared at her. —You don't have to pity me. My mind can aid me— He began to make his way up the path, Sel at his side. Anra trailed behind her parents as Kani scampered to keep up with them.

Their own cabin was only a few paces above Urran's. Harel and the children sat down on a bench outside to enjoy the clear mountain air while Silla hastened inside, returning with some wine and goat cheese. —How much nonsense was that old man telling you?— she asked Brun.

The boy was silent. She handed him the food, then took his crutches, setting them down near the doorway. —You mustn't listen to him— she went on. —He's no longer a Merging Self. The other old ones severed that connection with him because of his delusions, and that must show that his belief is a false one—

—Please be seated— Harel said to Anra, who was still standing. She sat down at one end of the bench while the others ate and drank; Harel passed some cheese to her. Was it possible that Urran had sensed a call from the distant comet? And what could that mean?

She finished her food and leaned forward, gazing at Brun. —How long have you been like this?— she asked, trying to make the question gentle.

—Since birth. What does it matter? I have my mindpowers, after all— She read the rest of his thoughts. He, at least, had been born with his mindpowers intact; that made his defect insignificant next to hers.

—But the skydwellers could give you the ability to walk without crutches. I know they could help you—

Brun raised his wall. Grabbing at his crutches, he lifted himself and went inside, followed by his brother and sister.

"You didn't tell me about this," Anra said aloud. Harel looked down. "Neither did Lydee."

"Lydee." Silla shook her head. "She told me the same thing you did—that the skydwellers could heal him. Such talk is bad for Brun."

"How can it be bad to tell him he can be helped?"

"What his legs can't do, his mind can compensate for. Your pity, and Lydee's, will only make him feel worse about himself."

"But he can be healed. You could have sent him to us long ago."

"Why should we send him to you? So that skydwellers can work their arts on him and plant their devices inside him? The people here still distrust such things. It was hard enough for them to allow Lydee as a guest—they would never allow one so altered to live here. Brun could not have come back."

"You left me."

"He can have a life here. You can't and never could have. To give up one child is hard enough." Silla rose. "Your ways are not ours. I thought once that your village would tire of being apart from the rest of Earth, and would come to see that Earth's ways should be your own as well. I believed that you might grow more like us and would be reunited with the world. Now I know I deceived myself."

"But we need the skydwellers."

"Not any more. You need only one thing—the tools that gave you that glowing light inside you. Take those tools from them, learn how to use them, and then send the skydwellers away." Silla folded her arms. "You think they have such wisdom. Why don't they teach us how to prevent the birth of solitaries? They know what their own children will be like before they are born—so Lydee has told me."

"It's more complcated than that," Anra muttered, knowing she could never explain the skydwellers' genetic sciences to Silla; she had only a rudimentary understanding of them herself. "You would have to screen every unborn child, or have yourself analyzed even before that. And to do that, you would need to study their science and use many of their tools. Maybe that's what we must do eventually. But to do that, we'd have to change, and knowing those things would lead to others, and Earth would no longer be what you want. The skydwellers know that—it's why they try not to interfere too much. They're afraid that if we change too quickly, before we can absorb what they have to teach, we'll—"

"I know what they think. It's an excuse. They'll tire of this world soon enough, and then what will you do? You're dependent on them, but we're not. This village has never even accepted the few gifts Lydee's tried to give us. When the skydwellers leave, what do you think will happen to your village?" Silla spun around and walked inside her house, not waiting for an answer.