Shadow Over Avalon (26 page)

“No points for effort. Shades wouldn’t let a novice out as spy. They’d want to be confident of return. Much too passive, lady,” he chided. “Let’s see if we can’t get some antagonism.”

Shadow didn’t expect his kiss, a brutal gesture designed to infuriate. He bit at her lips until she surrendered, fuming. His greasy hair on her cheeks disgusted her. A wave of sheer hatred flowed from deep within.

Copper leapt away from her. “Now I can sense danger. If I floor you again, I’ll exact the same payment.”

Humiliated and angry, Shadow warred with a need to hurt, still holding back until his furious onslaught dumped her a second time. She sensed his arousal when he dealt her punishment, a fact sending shockwaves coursing through her. If he downed her once more . . . she guessed he wouldn’t stop at a kiss.

The Outcast King backed away, eyes blazing. Shadow now fought as she had been trained. His skill proved good, very good, but not enough to match a fighting mechanism. She just pulled back on a lunge to his heart, stopping at his robe.

“You’re dead,” she hissed.

Copper laughed, arms open wide in surrender. “A sweaty corpse begs his need to cleanse.”

“I am a sister. Never infringe my dignity again, or I’ll not hold back.”

“Stop lying to me by misdirection and I’ll consider the request,” he countered. “The pool is behind you, through a tunnel. Are you so threatened by a vanquished foe that you will decline a decent wind down?”

“I can kill without weapons. Remember that,” Shadow said, calmer now. He had forced one secret out of her, but the other was safe enough in warm water.

The bathing cavern didn’t resemble other parts of Haven. It was much older, like places made by the ancients. The pool measured a perfect rectangle with colored pieces of flattened rock paved into the surround to form pictures. Time had eroded much of the pattern, but here and there, definite recognizable objects came clear. The most intact was of a stylized, couchant cat. Stone benches lined the side at intervals.

“It’s beautiful.”

“We think so. Brethren found it thirty years back during an expansion program. The original entrance is over by the rock fall at the far end. That debris is far too unstable to shift, even if we wanted another way in. Pity, as there might be other chambers under all that rubble. Maybe with manpower and time . . .” Copper shrugged.

Shadow wanted to find the water source. Stripping, she shallow-dived. It was too dark to investigate beyond touch. Five deep dives confirmed the bottom of the pool was paved, and sloped down at one end. She surfaced for air to be wrenched up and back by her hair leaving her throat exposed. Release came at once. Copper backed away into his depth, grinning.

“Just what did you expect to find?” Shadow said, shaken to the core.

“The same things I saw when I doused you down with seawater on the beach, a momentary glimpse each time I tried. I started because I hit you a bit harder than I’d intended. Do we all get those for working with Shades?”

He stood there lathering his hair with a bar of soap, casually discussing the most private part of her existence. Infuriated, Shadow dived, grabbed his ankles to dunk him. Copper kicked away from the bottom, powering toward deep water with strong, even strokes. He almost made the side when Shadow dragged him under again. A lucky kick in the mid-section winded her, and they both surfaced, gasping, gripping the edge to get breath back.

“Trying . . . to drown . . . me?”

“No . . . right to . . . touch.” Shadow gasped, fighting for air.

“Every right.” Copper coughed up the last remnant of water and cleared his throat, breathing deeply. He grinned, inviting her to forgive him. “Swap information in a fair trade after bathing. The sisters will be furious if I’m still here when they arrive.”

Shadow was too upset to consider his offer. She swam away to a shallow depth to finish washing. That he had discovered her ability by chance didn’t alter the fact that he had investigated his find. She still fumed as she dressed. Copper approached, already clothed, toweling his hair. He stopped a safe distance from strike range.

“I can hear stirrings. Ready yet?” he said, casting an anxious look toward the entrance.

“We’re out, so why the rush?”

“I don’t want to hurt the sisters by being here when they arrive. They might not all be veiled. I’ll meet you in the dining area when you’re through,” Copper said. He almost ran from the cavern, not waiting for her reply.

Arthur yawned, struggling to stay awake, too tired to process more data. Indigestible lumps of information sat in his mind. The thing he tried to avoid hung over him, waiting for the first slip from consciousness to devour him. He’d refurnished his room earlier, with a light green wall tone and black accents on the door frame. His bed coverings and chair now matched in a darker shade of verdant, which left him in debt. After that, he searched for data on males in his peer group, figuring one of them might know of Shadow’s son. A slight sound from behind gave him warning.

“Archive, is the sleep suggestion installed?” a male voice asked.

Arthur spun around, shocked at the intrusion into his quarters, sure he had sealed his room for privacy. The Supreme Commander of Elite forces wore a plain gray bodysuit with no indication of rank. He needed no insignia with his shock of flame red hair and violet eyes. Arthur tried to read the expression on the man’s lean face, but Ambrose held his features in relaxed mode.

“Yes, Ambrose. Arthur needs to dream.” The sibilant voice sounded almost gleeful.

“
Excuse me?
Do
I
have any say?”

“Not in this, Arthur,” the Archive replied. “Physical analysis indicates a high level of ketones in body fluids. Addiction occurs frequently in weakened vessels.”

Ambrose frowned. “In other words, I’ll have a comatose operative soon. I asked the Archive for a solution.”

“There is a distinct alteration in brain waves, Arthur. These dreams will not stop. Logic suggests a fully rested body has a greater ability to withstand inner change.”

“Sorry, Arthur. This is the only way.” Ambrose turned down the bed covers.

Arthur withdrew the link from his interface, aware that the Archive needed physical contact to establish a sleep rhythm – daring Ambrose to force him to reconnect.

“Archive . . .” The commander’s eyes narrowed.

“No need for concern, Ambrose. I can touch his mind at will. Arthur, would you like to lie down before you sleep, or do you wish Ambrose to place you in bed after?”

The strength of that vast mind bore down on Arthur. It didn’t compel, merely waited. He stalked over to his bed as ordered, building up defenses.

“Ashira,” the Archive said, quite gently for a mechanism. The word washed over Arthur, repeating like waves lapping at his mind, leeching away consciousness.

*

A huge cavern dripped with water falling from fingers of calcified rock to land on structures rising from the ground. Plunk . . . plunk . . . endless tears. An old-young man dressed in a black robe sat across a fire from Arthur, watching, listening. Frost-white hair framed an unlined face; matte-black eyes windowed a soul as old as eternity.

“How much time passes between one pearl of moisture falling and another?” the man asked.

“Six heartbeats.”
Where is this place?

“In time, the point of origin will meet the point of impact, and still drips will fall. Will the heart stop?”

“All hearts stop.” Arthur brushed an insect from his hand, noticing blond hair on the back of a swordsman’s callused hands – not young hands.

“Does life stop at the cease of a single beat?”

“Ask that question of the Great Mother.”

Arthur frowned, impatient at stupid riddles, wondering why he had said such a nonsensical thing, not knowing of any called the Great Mother.

“Who are you now, Arthur? Much time has passed. How many heartbeats? Are you ready?”

“I’m dreaming. Why are these dreams disturbing my life? I need to serve my people.”

“That’s good, Arthur. The first lesson I taught you—that a leader is a servant to his people. When every lesson is remembered, you will be ready.”

“Who are you? I’ve seen you before in my dreams.” His skin prickled with the power emanating from this individual.

“That will come to you at the appointed time. Sleep, child. We can visit again when you’re rested.”

*

Arthur awoke refreshed, restored by sleep and by inner peace. The dream-watcher’s challenge stirred his interest. He mulled over the encounter as he showered and changed before reporting for duty in a happier frame of mind.

The new recruits in his class studied each other, waiting for their instructor to arrive in the gymnasium. A door opened to admit a dark man of medium height, who introduced himself as Vernan, master of arms. He proceeded to put them through a grueling regime of exercise that started with basic stretches and ended with full body press-ups.

A meal break gave Arthur and his fellow victims time to exchange horrified glances. He caught the eye of a tall boy who looked at Vernan with raised eyebrows as if to say, ‘What will he put us through next?’ Arthur shrugged in answer.

Vernan caught the exchange and sent all of them to a weapons rack for blunt swords. The man chose to demonstrate defense and offense with Arthur as a partner. Already weary from exercise, Arthur needed every ounce of strength and energy to put up a poor show by Vernan’s standards.

After lunch, the class reviewed surface operations from the records. The day ended with a long stamina session in the barracks pool, to the dismay of all students. They looked like a group of old men as they tried to creak and groan their way from one end of the pool to the other until Vernan decided to show some mercy.

Arthur sneaked a stim-tab before returning to his room. He didn’t want to be sent to bed like a tired child to revisit his personal nightmare. He wanted time to formulate his defenses, build a barrier.

The Archive made contact the second his door opened. “Please do not use artificial stimulants, Arthur. I have neutralized the substance. Using more represents an exercise in futility.”

“Aren’t you on my side?”

“I am, Arthur. I have ordered a nutritional supplement to compensate for fatigue. Please eat it before it cools.” A food shaft opened.

Arthur thought to send back the Archive’s choice until he saw it – grilled shark steak on a bed of lightly steamed green kelp, his favorite.

“Did you wish a review of Shadow, Arthur?” the Archive suggested, reading his thoughts.

“Is nothing I do private?”

“Not to me. I have invested too much time in you for any barriers to prevent contact. I cannot allow my vessel to become endangered.”

Arthur glared at the interface, lacking a more substantial target. What the deeps did it mean by calling him a vessel? Settling into position, he allowed the Archive to establish the link.

*

Earth Date 3874

Shadow sat on one of the benches to finish drying her hair. She couldn’t understand why a ruler should flee from women he dominated. Understanding came with the sisters, as heavily veiled as any Gold Band ladies. The women froze in collective horror at the sight of her in a loose Brethren robe. They grouped like startled hens sighting a fox at a distance until one of them recognized her as female. Still clumping together, they stripped with speed, hurrying to the concealment of water.

Some sisters sported full beards, others had a dark shadow of stubble on their chins and upper lips, and all had withered breasts covered with body hair. Sickened, Shadow retreated in confusion.

Copper had collected a breakfast of mashed eggs and bread for them when she joined him. He didn’t look up.

“I saw,” she said.

“It happens fast. They don’t like us to see how they are now.” He shifted his eggs around his plate with a fork. “We do what we can for them, but it’s never enough to compensate for what they have become. These are women, damn it.” Hard anger lines formed around his mouth. “Can the Shades help them as they helped you?”

“I’m not a medi-tech. How can I answer?”
What does he mean? Did Submariners stop this process? No, I knew everything they did to me and why.
“They will provide help as much as possible, if terms are agreed. Would a sister consent to live with Shades for a while?”

“One
did
, or why else are you unaltered?”

Shadow considered. False hope represented the ultimate cruelty. People clustered around the vast cavern in twos and threes, some standing and others sitting to eat. Here and there an argument sounded from one of these damned souls. She couldn’t pretend to be other than she was in the face of such tragedy.

“I’m half Shade through birth. Harvester sentence didn’t have the same effect.”

“Impossible! My father arranged our union with your maternal grandfather. I know your bloodlines. I saw your neck before your became an Outcast. There were no lesions.” Copper folded his arms.

Shadow gasped. “A union, how so? I remember you as Outcast—did we meet before?”