Quiet Invasion(155)

How sick was the world? He was not sure anyone really knew anymore. Oh, they made reports and projections, and filled microcosms with guesses. But no one really knew. D’seun thought he did. But then, D’seun thought he knew the New People were insane and needed to be killed. Br’sei might even have believed him if he hadn’t seen them for himself and if he hadn’t known how early D’seun had reached that conclusion.

Br’sei no longer had any doubt that it was D’seun who was insane. Could it be proved, though? That was the question. Br’sei owed D’seun so much….

If D’seun were found insane, then Br’sei owed him nothing. But if insanity could not be proved and it was Br’sei who made the accusation, then D’seun could take him into court, denounce him for malice, and seek his indenture.

Br’sei had been indentured before. He wore the marks of it. He’d sworn it would not happen again. Not even for something as important as this.

I am a coward. Br’sei shrank in on himself, but he did not tell the kite to change direction.

At last, the kite slowed its flight. “This is as far as I may go,” it said, furling its wings and banking away.

Br’sei looked to the southwest. Warning beacons floated in a tidy net in front of the kite, each barely a thousand yards from the other. They seemed to be guarding nothing but the busy, healthy canopy, though. He heard no sounds except for the wind. He tasted the currents, and they seemed clear. On the horizon sat a single gray smudge, which he supposed must be Ca’aed.

A warning net this far out? No one was taking any chances. The situation must be very bad.

Br’sei lifted himself off the perches. The kite quivered and breezed away before he had even cleared its tendons. Br’sei rattled his wings, uncertain whether to be amused or worried. Regardless, he flew toward the warning net and felt his skin begin to prickle from the currents it sent out.

“Attention,” said his headset automatically. “You are approaching a quarantined area. Please select an alternate path.”

“Quiet,” ordered Br’sei. “Find the Ambassador T’sha. Tell her I am waiting at the quarantine boundary.”

Silence stretched out around him, except for the distant noise of the wind through the canopy. No one came, no one went. He was used to solitude and emptiness but not in a world where he could taste life. It was eerie.

He strained the wind through his teeth. His engineer’s palate had lost some of its sensitivity but not too much. He cataloged the flavors and sensations in his mind.

His headset remained silent Br’sei searched tastes and scents for the rank sweetness of disease and found none. Good, perhaps this was an overreaction. There had been so much illness that it was better to be safe, especially if some vectors remained unidentified.

Eventually, the headset spoke. “Good luck, Engineer Br’sei. This is speaker Pa’and. Ambassador T’sha cannot answer you now. I offer my help.”

Br’sei beat his wings impatiently, but kept the emotion from his voice. “I have come from New Home. There is an emergency. I must see Ambassador T’sha.”

Silence for a moment and then, “There is an emergency here too, Engineer.”

“I know.” Br’sei dipped his muzzle, although there was no one to see except the warning beacons. “I am an engineer. Perhaps I can help.”

Silence again. “I thank you for your offer, Engineer Br’sei, but if you enter the quarantine, I cannot promise you will be allowed to leave it.”

Br’sei hesitated, fanning his wings uneasily. Well, he would find his way back when the time came. Without T’sha, D’seun would have no opposing voice on New Home. It would become his world.

“I will come in. I may be able to help.”

“I would thank you for your help,” answered Speaker Pa’and. “I have sent the entry command to the quarantine net.”

While Br’sei watched, four of the beacons faded from green to brown. He darted through the gap. On the other side, he took his bearings on the gray smudge on the horizon and beat his wings until he found a soaring wind to carry him forward on its back.

Br’sei had been to Ca’aed many times. As an apprentice, he had been required to study in each of the twenty-four ancients, where life had grown layer upon layer for more centuries than anyone could accurately count. While he explored the depth and breadth of its body, he had talked to the city. He’d found a kind of openness in Ca’aed that was sometimes lacking in the other truly old cities. There had been contentment there, beyond duty and pride, and kindness. He’d briefly considered asking for adoption, but his own birth city needed free citizens so badly that he never had.