Ashes and Rain: Sequel to Khe (The Ahsenthe Cycle Book 2) (21 page)

“There’s a way out,” I said. “Jonton would have used it.” My mind was spinning. Jonton had known the secret. She’d come and gone from the caverns enough times to know them well. Whatever the secret was, I couldn’t see it.

I stood a moment, staring at the machine, wondering if it somehow controlled the way in and out. But Larta was likely more on track. Every door I’d seen in the Research Center had an eye or something that made it work. I slowly ran fingers that still ached from the heart room over the dirt wall, afraid I’d miss the spot.

Larta laughed once. “Found it.”

I spun around to face her.

“Ready?” she asked

A sudden fizz of nerves flashed through me, but I nodded.

The flash was lightning-bright. I threw my hands up to cover my squeezed eyelids. An icy breeze blew past my legs. Then darkness.

I opened my eyes slowly, cautiously. We were back in the machine room. The weather machine was quiet now. No water fell into its full-to-the-top cache. The Returned guardians still lay where they had fallen. My neck burned. Larta’s glowed bright with the soft-gray of sorrow and the black-red of rage.

The bird noise sounded low in my earholes.

It
must
be
destroyed
,
Khe
.
You
must
help
me
.

The weather machine. The source of the planet’s suffering.

How
?

One
last
pain
, the planet said.
One
last
shake
.
You
must
loose
the
water
and
let
it
pour
down
.
Tell
your
sisters
to
leave
this
place
if
they
wish
to
live
.

Larta had gone to Justice House, leaving me in the machine room after I’d told her what needed to be done. I couldn’t look at the fallen guardians. I stood, staring at the machine — the face, metal the color of shadows, the only-for-show dials and levers — and wondered if it had consciousness. And if it did, was it happy or miserable at the use that had been made of it? And if it did, did I have the right to help in its destruction? The destruction, too, if I read the planet rightly, of the structure that housed it, with a consciousness of its own.

I was glad when Larta returned with several guardians, enough to do the two jobs needed now. Every guardian stood, stunned at the sight of their fallen sisters, every neck showing the dark-purple of grief and the brown-black of anger. They’d brought rolling cots. Each Returned guardian was tenderly placed on one and taken away. Back to Justice House, I presumed, but didn’t know for sure.

The remaining guardians fanned out through the research center, herding the few doumanas still in the structure out.

Larta took hold of the elbow of the last guardian, and said, “I have a different assignment for you. Find Nez. Tell her we’ll be sending out word about the council and inviting the representatives to come. Nez will represent Chimbalay and be the Speaker. She needs to prepare her words well. Khe and I will meet her outside Presentation House.”

The guardian nodded, and then only Larta and I were left in the room.

“You’re going to destroy the machine and the structure?” she asked.

Not me — the planet, I wanted to say, but even Larta, who knew that there were more things in our world than most doumanas were aware of, might find it hard to understand who spoke to me inside my head. I nodded.

“It’s a bit like the Energy Center all over again,” she said. “Here we are, destroying something needed by the doumanas of Chimbalay.”

My neck went hot. I’d thought about that as well. “It’s not the same. There’s another research center in Chimbalay, a place for sick or hurt doumanas to find help,” I said. “If no
research
goes on for a while, that might be a good thing.”

Larta laughed once, quietly. “You’re right about that. But what about the machine? We’ll go back to inconsistent weather. To lean years. To suffering. You’re the one who said it shouldn’t be destroyed.”

“I know,” I said. “Things have changed. I’ll try to explain it later, when we have some time. For now — ”

Larta cut me off. “Do whatever needs to be done. I’ll stand by your side.”

I reached out and stroked her neck in gratitude just as the text box strapped on her forearm vibrated, the movement so small it would be easy not to see, but she would feel it.

“We’re the only ones left in the research center,” she said. “The structures on either side and across the avenue have been emptied as well.”

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then I began the feathery words and hand movements that would start the machine working. I knew how to make the water in the catch-tube dump down deep into the world. How to make it happen fast or slowly. I made the motion for fast, and watched out of the side of my eye as water rushed from the tube until it was empty.

I felt a tiny shiver roll under my feet and then stop.

“Larta, it’s time to go.”

We stood across the wide avenue from the research center, our backs up against the three-level dwelling where the doumanas in charge of recreation lived — the structure empty now, the guardians having sent them to an outer ring for safety.

When the shivering began, I set my feet wide apart, bent my knees, and braced to ride it out. Larta touched my shoulder once, gave a little shrug, and set her legs the same way. We waited together for whatever was to come.

The shiver built, the planet grumbling beneath us, the ground buckling and rolling. I grabbed hold of a branch from one of the thick-trunked trees that flanked either side of the dwelling. The limb shook in my hands, the rough bark scraping my palms. Larta seized a different branch, but held on just as hard. The tree seemed to jump as the ground swelled under it, rising up. I felt myself rise too, my balance failing. I held tight as we slammed back down, and the ground began to sway violently from side to side. The research center shook like a reed in a windstorm. Tiles fell from the roof, crashing against the stone streets and breaking into tiny pieces. The air stank of ozone.

A roar tore the air. The ground shook back and forth beneath our feet. A jagged crack began crawling up the face of the structure. The crack widened, the wall splitting open like decaying fruit. The creak and screech as the skin of the structure broke apart rang loud in our earholes. I imagined other cracks on other walls we couldn’t see from where we stood.

The research center groaned, and I listened, wondering if it were aware of the cracks splitting its sides, hoping it wasn’t. Chunks of plaster, large and small, fell into the street. The planet gave a mighty twist and the research center fell, the structure folding in on itself, sinking into the hole that had been the machine room.

The shiver ended. A strange and total silence settled over Chimbalay.

“Jonton told me her secret,” Larta said as we walked toward Presentation House. The rubble of Research Center Three lay behind us. Already doumanas had arrived with tools and vehicles and were clearing the remains away. The shock of what we’d seen was fading.

“I asked,” Larta said, “and Jonton was so proud of herself she couldn’t keep from telling me how she knew what was said all over Chimbalay.”

I had been thinking of Nez, wondering if I should tell her what I’d learned in the room of floating faces. I pulled my attention to Larta. “How did she do it?”

“Jonton told me the lumani wanted to ‘study doumanas in their natural state’. They wanted to know what we did when we were alone with our sisters. She said that as fascinated as the lumani were with us, they didn’t like us much. They didn’t want to be near us physically if they didn’t have to be.”

That didn’t surprise me. Weast had seemed interested but resigned during the time we spent together.

“The lumani,” Larta said, “figured out a way to hear through clearstone. The way Jonton described it was that clearstone held the instant memory of everything said in front of it. The lumani learned to extract the memory. They showed her how it worked. Once the lumani were gone, she took it over for herself.”

“So any room with a window was open to Jonton’s listening,” I said.

Larta nodded. “We kler doumanas love our windows. Every structure has as many as we can fit in.”

I gave my admiration grudgingly, but it was an amazing thing the lumani had done — to make clearstone repeat back anything it heard.

We turned onto Bright Blue Circle — the street named for the color of excitement — and walked a while without talking, each with her own thoughts.

“Do you want to know my secret?” I asked Larta, unsure why it felt important to say it out loud at this moment, but knowing that it was. Larta seemed the perfect person to tell. Not Nez. Not Azlii. I supposed it was because though Larta was a sister, I would leave her here in Chimbalay when Kelroosh left, and that made her safer to tell, somehow.

“You have secrets?” She sent me a grin.

“Since that night,” I said, “the night we destroyed the lumani, I’ve lived in fear of what I was becoming — would become — this creature that was not doumana and not lumani — something in between. Or worse — I would become all lumani.”

Larta tilted her head and looked at me. “But you’re not afraid any more. Not now. That’s good.”

“I don’t understand why,” I said, and hesitated to go on. A doumana should have her reasons clear and ready if she decides to make a confession. I was unprepared. “Maybe I’m resigned. Maybe I’m curious to see how I’ll wind up.” I thought it over. “I have time now. Before, everything was crashing down. I was changing, Commemoration Day was coming.” I glanced at my wrist and the thirteen blue dots there. “Now, it’s more like being a hatchling on Emergence Day — nervous, leaving one state behind, moving to another, but excited too. Whatever I am to be, I’ll do my best with it.”

Larta sniffed. “Our whole world is changing.” She sent me a smile. “Whatever you become, whoever, I’m pleased to call you sister. You’ll always have a welcome in Chimbalay so long as I am here.”

We’d arrived at Presentation House. Nez was waiting by the wide steps. Her neck was wreathed in the orange-red of anticipation and the black-blue of determination. She wanted to do this for her sisters, for all the soumyo. My neck warmed and I wished Nez could see the color of my pride in her.

We started up the steps, climbing to a new life, a new world.

The night was warm, the sky clear. I sat alone in the garden behind Justice House, on the ground near the same tree where I’d met with Pradat. My cloak lay loose over my shoulders. My bare feet dug a finger’s length into the loose soil.

Birds yammered nearby. No, not nearby — in my earholes, in my mind.

Are
you
there
,
Khe
? the planet sent.

I wriggled my toes deeper into the soil.
I’m
here
.
And
I
have
questions
for
you
.

The soil around my feet loosened — the planet giving me welcome.

Do
you
have
a
name
? I asked.

I
do
,
but
it’s
long
and
likely
hard
for
you
to
say
.
Ah
-
sen
-
tha
is
the
start
of
it
,
and
you
may
call
me
that
.

“
Ah
-
sen
-
tha
,” I said aloud, liking the feel of the word in my mouth and in my mind.

I scraped at the dirt with the ball of my foot, until the hole was ankle deep. The soil was warm and comforting on my skin.
Why
did
you
save
me
?

Birds chattered in my head again, but a different tone now, lower.

Jonton
was
right
about
some
things
,
Khe
.
You
are
changed
.
But
she
was
wrong
to
say
you
were
becoming
lumani
.
You
may
put
that
fear
aside
.
You
are
nothing
but
doumana
.

No
, I thought.
I
am
changed
.
I
see
and
hear
better
than
my
sisters
are
able
to
.
I
see
emotion
colors
not
just
on
a
doumana’s
neck
,
but
swirling
throughout
her
body
,
the
way
the
lumani
saw
.

The bird chatter sounded again, and then
, You
are
no
part
lumani
,
Khe
.
You
are
merely
the
future
—
what
all
soumyo
could
be
,
will
be
.
Not
just
improved
vision
and
hearing
,
not
just
the
ability
to
see
another’s
true
emotions
,
not
even
to
go
long
periods
without
food
or
sleep
,
but
to
live
in
better
harmony
with
your
sisters
and
brothers
,
the
plants
and
beasts
,
the
structures
—
and
with
me
.

My breath caught in my throat. To not be lumani — to be what?

How
could
that
happen
? I sent.

The sound like a single raindrop beating over and over against wood rang in my head. I looked up quickly, expecting to see rain, but the sky was clear. The voice echoed inside my earholes.

Pradat
started
it
with
the
procedure
that
let
you
first
feel
Resonance
.
The
lumani
made
you
more
of
what
you
already
were
.
You
are
the
most
a
soumyo
can
be
,
but
you
are
only
soumyo
,
nothing
else
.

I rubbed my fingers lightly on the dirt. I wanted to believe all that the planet said. Wanted to, but —

If
I
am
still
only
soumyo
,
why
don’t
my
emotion
spots
light
?

They
are
no
longer
needed
,
not
when
you
can
see
much
deeper
into
your
sisters’
hearts
.

My
sisters
don’t
see
what
I
see
, I sent.
They
can’t
know
what
I
feel
.
I
think
it
bothers
them
.

The silence that set in went on so long I thought the conversation was ended — the planet had finished talking to me and turned to other concerns.

I
am
sorry
,
Khe
, the voice came finally.
It
is
never
easy
to
be
the
first
.

I blew out a breath. That was true enough.

Thank
you
,
though
, I thought.
For
caring
for
us
.
For
giving
me
back
my
life
.

The low chittering of all the birds in the world rang in my mind.

It
was
selfish
of
me
to
save
you
.
The
corentans
are
close
to
harmony
with
me
,
but
they
don’t
know
me
the
way
you
do
.
They
don’t
hear
me
.
They
don’t
feel
my
heartbeat
.
The
weather
-
prophets
heard
me
,
but
couldn’t
believe
it
was
their
planet
whispering
softly
to
them
about
what
was
to
come
.
They
made
up
the
idea
of
tasting
the
weather
in
explanation
.
I
have
been
alone
and
lonely
for
a
very
long
time
.
I
need
a
sister
,
Khe
.
A
unitmate
.
You
could
be
that
for
me
.