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There was only one chance, only one possible way out. If I could finally feel myself a part of the schtann, I could use the cherat, broadcast my distress to the others. If they felt the cherat with me, they might come to my rescue.
I had to do it. There was no other way.
But I couldn't. It meant dying, dying horribly; it meant that the only people I loved wouldn't ever be avenged, and I still couldn't feel part of something, I couldn't.
How do you make yourself feel something? It can't be done, not even when it's something you ought to feel. Not even when your life depends on it.
"But of course, there is a business side to it. I'm now respected, David," he said, walking out of my line of sight, "more than I ever have been. People have heard about Carlos, and your little Marie." He snickered. "Do you know what your slimy friend tried to buy me off with?"
There was a tapping as though of a fingernail on a metal bowl or-no!
Van Ingstrand walked back around the table, Eschteef's chrost.i.th dangling casually from one hand, a ball-peen hammer in his other. "This. A water pitcher. That's what the filthy lizard offered me, as though it was something special. Said that n.o.body had ever been offered one of these before-and all it is is a pitcher!"
He let it slip out of his fingers and fall to the floor. It bounced three times, each bounce a slash to my heart.
"A stupid pitcher!" Van Ingstrand raised his hammer.
No, not that. Please. We all die. Every one of us has to; there's no way around it. There wasn't a way around it for Marie, Carlos, and Eschteef, and there won't be for me. But the beauty, the wonder we create... that's supposed to live on. Please. It just has to.
"Please. Don't."
He nodded. "A reaction, at last, eh?" Gently, he tapped the hammer against Eschteef's chrost.i.th.
I couldn't even close my eyes. "No. Don't."
Van Ingstrand raised the hammer again, and brought it down on the pitcher.
It caved in like a piece of foil.
Anguish and anger rose, almost drowning me. The pain in my side and jaw was nothing compared to this I struggled, trying to free myself from my bonds. The had to be stopped. It couldn't be allowed. Kill me, but please, no, not this. I won't let- Something broke deep inside me. The walls in my mind shattered, disappeared as though they had never been.
I wasn't alone anymore; the schtann-no, my schtann-was with me. As it always could have been, ifonly I'd' reached out for it. And as it always would be, for the rest of my life, and beyond.
'We come, David,' Hrotisft said. 'We will be then in moments.'
Sthtasfth voiced a mental protest. 'No. Van Ingstrad will hear our approach; it must be distracted.'
'Feel with it!' Threstast interrupted. 'The child weakens; it must be strengthened. '
'Yes.'
My mind sang a hymn of warmth and caring. Waves of rea.s.surance washed over me in a loud benediction.
There was a clattering on the floor above us. Van Ingstrand turned toward the door.
'Look at me, Amos van Ingstrand,' my mouth said I wondered at the power of my own voice. And the words. Where were they coming from? I wasn't trying to say anything.
"What?" He turned back to me, stunned. "What do you think-"
Through my broken teeth, I smiled. 'You will not harm another of my schtann. You will never harm another of my schtann.'
His face whitened. "But you-"
'The dead harm no one.'
The steel door burst inward, the bar and hinges shattering. Like a gray flood, the schrift flowed in, carrying van Ingstrand and his man out of my sight. They only had time to scream once.
Flesh rended beneath strong hands and sharp teeth.
The rest of the schtann dined, while Hrotisft walked from behind and stood in front of me, its mouth b.l.o.o.d.y. 'It is as I should have known,' it said. 'Eschteef was correct about you, keh?'
Its old fingers were steady and sure as it removed my bonds, and helped me down from the board.
I tried to block out the pain. There was so much to be said, so much that I had to know.
But I was too badly injured. My right ankle must have been broken when van Ingstrand's guards kicked me unconscious; it gave way. I staggered, and almost fell.
Instantly, Sthtasfth was at my other side, adding a ma.s.sive arm to support me. Blood dripped from its chin as it towered over me. With its other hand, it scooped the black medikit from the floor, not bothering to loosen the catch as it ripped the bag open. 'Do you know how to use this medikit, David?' it asked, its loud voice somehow immeasurably gentle. 'I do not have the knowledge.'
'Valda oil,' Hrotisft said. 'There should be a vial of valda oil. That will deal with the pain.'
'But it tires. And there are many injuries,' Rhathsfoosf said, putting a dry hand against my forehead.
'And it has suffered much pain. We must take it to one of its own species. '
'The carrier of the breeding pond,' Threstast suggested, 'the female that Eschteef mentioned-it might be able to help.'
"Yes," I said, my head spinning. "Gina. Take me to Gina."It was just too much. I gave up and let the world away.
CHAPTER TWELVE:.
"This Is Just a Piece of Silver..."
I sat on the bed next to the window, cradling the crumpled piece of silver in my arms. The pain was gone now, at least the pain in my body. Gina had done a decent job of doctoring while I was unconscious, but there hadn't been all that much to do. My ankle was just sprained, and the cuts needed only a few st.i.tches. She'd had to pull the remains of a few broken teeth, but cauterization had sealed up those wounds, and valda oil prevented the pain.
Granted, I would need a bit of reconstruction, but that wasn't what bothered me.
Ignoring the three in the room with me, I looked through the barred window, out into the night.
Against a sea of stars, three t'Tant fluttered, hunting. Below them, all of Lower City spread out in the darkness.
And beyond that, the bright lights of Elwere.
I wept. That was all that there was to do.
'David,' Hrotisft said. 'We must talk.'
"What's there to talk about?" I lowered the battered remains of Eschteef's chrost.i.th to the bed.
"Listen to them," Gina said, taking my hand. "Listen to them."
'You must listen to us,' Sthtasfth said. 'We are one, David. ' It reached into its pouch, and produced a finely wrought jade pendant, and stared at the microscopic tracings across its surface. 'This is my chrost.i.th. My second. Which is finer than that which was my first chrost.i.th, but not as fine as my third one will be. I bid you appreciate it with me.'
I felt Sthtasfth's joy. It had worked long and hard on the pendant, taking sc.r.a.ps of silver and unworked jade, and then turning it into wonder.
And, in another part of my mind, I could feel the rest of the schtann-not just here, but on worlds scattered across the sky-joining in my appreciation, basking in Sthtasfth's joy at the work of its hands. I was with all the others: the living, the dead, and the yet-to-live. I wasn't alone anymore.
Yes, now I was part of the schtann, but that wasn't enough. I'd ruined everything. For myself, for Marie, for Eschteef- 'Mourn your little friend if you must, David. I understand that is good for humans to do, to let themselves feel hurt at the loss of those they cared for. But do not mourn Eschteef. It gambled that either it would be able to buy van Ingstrand's revenge, or that its death would break the bonds closing your mind to us.'
Hrotisft picked up the remains of Eschteef's chrost.i.th and held the battered heap of silver for a moment, then handed it to me. 'And while it was the destruction of this pitcher and not Eschteef's death that made that happen, remember that Eschteef won its gamble. Do not mourn it, David. It died having served its schtann well. What more could anyone ask?'I fingered the remains of Eschteef's chrost.i.th. It had been so beautiful.
"He can't stay here," Gina said. "I mean, tonight isn't a problem, but if his father finds him, he'll make David go back to Elwere. He'd go crazy in there. Besides, Amos van Ingstrand and the others you killed weren't the whole Protective Society; you'll have to keep an eye out for whoever replaces him."
Easily solved. Hrotisft dismissed the problem with a sniff. "The schtann will pay for David's pa.s.sage off Oroga. It can leave in the morning."
Off Oroga? "Where?" Where do you go to run away from yourself?
Hrotisft gestured at the window. 'Look.' Above, the stars twinkled in the sky. 'There are more than a thousand worlds out there, David. The schtann is on many of them. You have much to learn, little human.
And I have a few years left in which to teach you.'
'But what do we do?'
Tor tonight, mourn your dead, if you need to. Tomorrow, we will leave for Schriftalt. You have a need to be with more of your schtann than is anywhere else. And after that, who knows? I've heard that there is much need for good work on Earth.'
'I have heard that, too,' Sthtasfth said. 'Besides, David is human. It would be good for it to see the world from which its species came.'
'I will show it to David. And see it with its eyes.'
'You are going with me?'
'Of courses Hrotisft hissed. 'You are far too young, weak, and ignorant to be left alone. '
'And I will go, too,' Sthtasfth said. 'You are far too old to teach it precision work, Hrotisft. The young one will need to learn from others. '
Hrotisft hissed. 'And you need to teach, Sthtasfth. '
'Of course. Is all this acceptable to you, David?'
I didn't answer. I cradled the remains of the pitcher in my arms.
'Give me the silver,' Hrotisft said. 'It is useless as it is. It will be melted down, and once again molded into beauty.'
"But Eschteefs chrost.i.th!" I protested, holding it tighter. "You can't melt down Eschteefs chrost.i.th, not his masterwork. You can't."
'True. I cannot. And I would not.'
Sthtasfth rested its hand on my shoulder. 'Of course not. Eschteef's chrost.i.th will become better every year. It is finally what it ought to be, part of its schtann. And its schtann will care for it, and teach it, and require the best of it. I foresee interesting times for Eschteef's chrost.i.th, David. '
"I... don't understand."
'David,' Hrotisft said. 'Now, this thing is just a piece of silver. You are Eschteef's chrost.i.th. 'ABOUT THE AUTHOR Joel Rosenberg was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, in 1954, and raised in eastern North Dakota and northern Connecticut. He attended the University of Connecticut, where he met and married Felicia Herman.
Joel's occupations, before settling down to writing full-time, have run the usual gamut, including driving a truck, caring for the inst.i.tutionalized r.e.t.a.r.ded, bookkeeping, gambling, motel desk-clerking, and a two-week stint of pa.s.sing himself off as a head chef.
Joel's first sale, an op-ed piece favoring nuclear power, was published in The New York Times. His stories have appeared in Issac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, Perpetual Light, Amazing Science Fiction Stories, and TSR's The Dragon.
Joel's hobbies include backgammon, poker, bridge, and several other sorts of gaming, as well as cooking; his broiled b.u.t.terfly leg of lamb has to be tasted to be believed.
He now lives in New Haven, Connecticut, with his wife and the traditional two cats.
The Sleeping Dragon and The Sword and the Chain, the first two novels in Joel's Guardians of the Flame series, are also available in Signet editions.