“You dare call me thief!” Arla cried. “You are the one who stole from me! Stole my husband, stole my children! You barren, useless, bloodless …” She couldn’t see. She couldn’t think. Anger roared through her mind blocking out everything else. Let the whole clan hear, she didn’t care. “You are unfit to have even a Notouch’s scars on your cold hands!”
Arla marched past Branch, blundering through the Crookers, blind as her mother. She fell against the corner of a house and slid into the mud.
A man’s hands caught her. She still couldn’t see, but with a shock, she recognized the touch. Eric Born raised her to her feet. “Come on, Arla,” he said in the Skymen’s own language. “You’ve gone too far today.”
No, her mind whispered. I haven’t gone anywhere near far enough.
Branch watched the Skyman and Iron Shaper lead Stone in the Wall away. Her cheek stung painfully from the blow.
There was no end to the woman’s heresy. Her family held a set of shiny baubles to which they had no right, and so all the clan bowed and scraped to them as if they were Kings. Branch had married Nail in the Beam in front of the Teachers and the Nameless, and all four of the children had become her own blood, but still people whispered behind her back and gave ground grudgingly when she spoke. She was the mother of four children! Four healthy children! But because she didn’t hold those pretty stones, because she was not Arla Born of the Black Wall with her heresies and her idiocies, she was not heeded.
Now the Skymen had taken over Narroways and the Nameless only knew what they would do next. Surely they’d come to claim their own. Who knew what damage this woman, this heretic, could do if she were allowed to remain here, ruling over her bamboo and clay city? Who knew what it would mean to the children?
But if she were returned to her masters, they might be grateful. They might even be lenient. They were the power now, until the Nameless came. Branch touched the backs of her hands. There was less risk with Stone in the Wall in their hands than there was with her among the clan. Less risk to the children, certainly.
Branch drew the laces on her poncho closed and sighted along the Walls toward Narroways.
The Skymen will take Stone in the Wall away again, and this time they will not give her back. This time my children will remain my children.
15—Section five, Division one, The Home Ground, Hour 09:15:25, Planet Time
“It may be that we do not live to see the end of this, and it may be we should pity our children who do.”
Fragment from “The Beginning of the Flight,” from the Rhudolant Vitae private history Archives
“COMING UP ON DIVISION ONE,” said Security Chief Panair from his station at the transport’s controls.
Avir felt an unexpected surge of relief at the announcement. They could not be more than twenty minutes from the base. When they arrived, she would be able to report what they had found under the Unifier dome to the Assembly and get orders on what to do with their prisoner. She’d also be able to get out of her pressure suit. Her helmet and gloves lay on the seat beside her, but the suit itself had been designed more for protection and efficiency than comfort. She had to remind herself that she could not squirm in front of even Ivale, let alone the Unifier. The Security Beholden all remained sealed and helmeted. She had no idea how they stood it. Probably professional discipline combined with the fact that Chief Panair was there to watch them. She could imagine the three Beholden left behind to guard the Unifier base stripping off their helmets and rubbing their necks vigorously.
Bio-tech Nal did not show any sign of having heard Panair. Avir suspected that, like her, he was fighting unaccustomed fatigue. It had been fifteen hours since either of them had slept, but Nal would not leave the artifact in the transport’s emergency support capsule without his trained supervision. Avir herself would not be seen to have less diligence or endurance than one of her Beholden.
“Act at all times as if there were a Witness with you,” her Assembly representative had told her. “There are not enough to cover all the landing sites, but new ones are being assigned as we speak.”
So Avir sat bolt upright in the rear set of seats watching Nal transfer the readings from the artifact’s capsule into a portable terminal. Broken Trail struggled randomly against the restraints. Nal had decided against sedating it. Its delusional state was obviously so deep, he said, that it could not be further panicked by confinement to the capsule. He appeared to be correct. Every few minutes its head would twitch to one side, as if it had just seen a glimpse of something, and sometimes its hand would strain to reach out, but it made no concentrated effort to remove the oxygen mask or to dislodge the needles pressing into its arms. Consequently, the Bio-tech spent the journey gathering valuable baseline data on the artifact’s physiological attributes.