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Playing God(16)

By:Sarah Zettel


“None of us would allow you to be hauled around in public,” she grumbled. “Don't they have any feeling?”

“The Getesaph let theirs wander loose in the street”, remarked Resaime, primarily to see what her sister would do, Praeis was sure.

“And that makes it good. Perfect reasoning, Res.”

“Theiareth, you are such a prude.”

“Oh, I suppose when your soul drops from your belly to your crotch I should—”

“Enough!” Praeis bared her teeth. “Do you have manners, and did I warn you to mind them? Are you going to make us all sound like barbarians to our blood family?”

In perfect chorus her daughters said, “But she—”

“If I cared, you would have known it by now.” Privately, she cursed the three strangers for bringing the father outside like this. The touch had unsettled Theiareth. She and Resaime both were old enough to feel the private swellings from the touch and scent. Both of them were squirming and trying very hard not to.

She pulled them both under the narrow overhang of a maintenance shed, out of the main flow of foot traffic, and temporarily out of the worst of the rain.

“Come on, daughters, let's get out of these.” Praeis dropped her bags and unpinned her sarong, peeling it off her skin and belly guard. Her skin shivered with relief. Resaime and Theiareth relieved themselves of their kilts and tunics and handed them over to Praeis. She wrung them out and stuffed them into the carryall, hoping she hadn't put anything with colors that would run in there.

“Praeis Shin t'Theria!”

Praeis straightened up immediately. A pair of arms-sisters, looking heavy and awkward in their body armor, shouldered their way through the crowd. As they approached, a delighted flush of recognition ran through Praeis.

“Neys! Silv!” Praeis embraced her old arms-sisters, laughing from pure joy. “What are you doing here?”

“What are we doing here?” Neys, short tight-skinned and obviously still fond of good meals, filled her voice with exaggerated effrontry. “We've been sent to convey you and your daughters safely to the Home of Queens, and we've been standing in the rain waiting for you for the last hour.”

“Then you should meet my daughters.” Praeis brought Theia and Res in front of her. “Resaime Shin t'Theria, Theiareth Shin t'Theria. Daughters, my arms-sisters, Silvi Cesh and Neys Cesh.” Shoulder clasps were exchanged, heartily by the arms-sisters and hesitantly by the daughters.

“So, come along, come along! The Queens await!” Silv was as short as her sister, but much more sparely built. She grabbed up three of the satchels before Praeis could protest and strode unceremoniously back into the crowd.

Neys waggled her ears and grabbed up the other three bags. “All things must be as my sister commands,” she said cheerfully as she set off after Silv.

Praeis laughed and shook her head. Those two had not changed, except for the merit markings on their armor. While she had been building a city for refugees, they had served their people with diligence, honor, and bravery. She took Res's and Theia's hands and hurried after Neys and Silv before she lost sight of them.

Silv piled their baggage into a spotless frame car with ROYAL GUARD written in large letters on the front and urged them all to take their places and make themselves comfortable. Praeis crammed into the backseat with her daughters. Neys and Silv took their places in the front.

Silv started the loud, choppy engine and drove unimpeded through the port gate, then across the gap between the first wall and the second. Beyond the flat, concrete security zone, they drove through ancient gates mat had been reinforced with steel and titanium and into the city t'Theria.

Instantly, the car was overshadowed by narrow buildings constructed as a series of short, interconnecting corridors. They all had thick, small windows and brightly painted walls. Many of the murals had been faded by soot or had peeled off where no one had repainted them. Canals paralleling the streets ran black and choked with weeds, moss, and garbage.

They passed one of the debate walls. A small cluster of mothers, sisters, and even a few daughters read the essays fastened to the wall or sat listening to the two sisters who pontificated at the wall's far end.

Shacks and shanties of scavenged material leaned against the sides of buildings where people paid enough fees for a solid roof and walls, but not enough for the owners to take care of the impoverished. Here and there the trees that grew beside the buildings and the vines that draped down them were broken and burned, showing that peace had not been complete or long-lasting here. A few boothers pulled carts loaded with their stands and wares down the sidewalk. A few near family scurried along as if they were afraid they'd be seen.