Reclamation(181)

“You see?” Kelat said to the Engineer as the craft exploded in a puff of dust and fire. “This is the work of the Ancestors, and now, so are they.”

Kelat turned his eyes straight forward and folded his hands on his lap. His new finger ticked in time with his steady heartbeat. He’d have to see about having it removed again, as soon as they returned home.

They are gone, said the Mind.

“Not far enough. They still orbit the sun. They still watch. We must … we must …”

You are exhausted. This is a task for a hundred, not for two. You must rest.

“We must order them away! We must speak to them all!”

I have no machinery I can use for this. I have no such transmitters left.

“You do. Its name is Adu. It should still be in range.”

Barely. Reach out.

The Hand stretched with all its strength.

Yes, we can touch it.

The voice rang through every terminal, every disk in the shuttle. “I am Adudorias. I am Voice for the Realm of the Nameless Powers.”

Kelat raised his eyes toward the shuttle’s ceiling. He began tugging at his little finger.

“The Rhudolant Vitae have been declared Aunorante Sangh,” said Adudorias. The voice of the Ancestors.

Kelat tightened his grip on his regrown finger. Tug, tug, tug.

“If you seek to contact the Realm and the People, you must do so in penance and peace.”

Tug, tug, tug.

“Until then, when the Eyes see you, the Hands will move against you.”

Tug, tug, tug.

“The Mind will accept no thought from you.”

Tug, tug, tug.

“Leave.”

Tug, tug, tug.

The Moderator’s voice, the one voice all Vitae knew instantly, sounded over the public channels. She sounded not calm, but half-dead. “Withdraw, Vitae. Come home.”

And that was all. Kelat tugged harder at his finger. Its joints began to strain.

With luck, he could have it off by the time they docked with the Grand Errand. He could feed it to the gel and dust that clung to his boots, and it would be satisfied. The Ancestors would be satisfied. They would not then call him to their work.

He would be safe then.

Kelat pulled harder.

Now they are gone. They are pulling their satellites and shuttles into their main ships. They are releasing their tethers.

“Not far enough. Not yet.”

You are placing too much strain upon yourselves. I will not let you die. I cannot. You will return when you have rested. Then we will work. I will wait.

The Mind pushed. The Hand and the Eye lost their concentration and fell away.

The namestone thudded to the floor and Eric’s hand dropped against Arla’s. Arla couldn’t hold her own hand up and it fell to her side. Her lips were cracked and dry. Her eyes could barely blink and every limb of her body felt like it was made of lead. She looked up at Eric. His skin had a grey pallor.

“What happened?” He slowly, painfully turned his face toward her.

“We won,” Arla told him.

She collapsed into his arms and both of them slid to the floor.

Arla’s first sensation was of a hard, unyielding surface under her right side. Her second was of a human hand lying heavily against her throat.

She forced her eyes open.

She was still in the chamber of the Mind. Her namestone lay on the floor about two yards away. She blinked at the table legs and the floor. The shadows still hung in their feathery net, watching her closely. Eric lay beside her, unconscious as a stone.

Her head ached. Her body ached. Thirst was a nagging itch at the back of her mind, along with hunger. She knew enough to know that that dull, persistent sensation meant she had been too hungry and too thirsty for too long.

With a grunt, she sat up. Eric’s hand slid down her body and landed in her lap.

“Eric?” She rolled him onto his back and felt for his breathing. Heart was nowhere to be seen. “Eric!”

Eric’s eyelids fluttered and pulled open. His mouth twitched and his hand lifted off the floor, reaching for the stone.

“No.” Arla laid her own hand over his wrist. “No, Eric.”

He licked his lips. There was blood on them. “I want …”

“No, you don’t,” she said, pressing down gently so that his palm touched the floor. “You want to stand up and help me get out of here.”

His eyes searched her face, attempting to understand what she had just said.

Nameless Pow … Arla broke the thought off. What did he feel? I was barely ready for it, and I was used to the stones.

Eric’s eyes had closed again. Two tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Eric?” she said again. “Eric, come on. We have to get out of here. We have to get into the dome. Maybe we can find some rations, or some water.”

“I can’t …” he whispered.