Mindlink (22 page)

How close to Kir Dashamun had they been earlier, before the
Khota Marong appeared?

Sam’s thoughts raced along with her own and he nodded once over
her logic. The constant link had become so deep-seated, she barely registered
whether thoughts were hers or Sam’s and she suspected he had a similar
experience.

It would have been nice for the link to conjure up some
directions, she concluded a forever later, when they’d been tramping through the
humid forest for who knew how long without any additional clues on what to look
for.

“Did we miss it?” Natalie’s nervous timbre startled Ashley and
she frowned.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re still going in this direction,” she
shot back in frustration. “If I knew the answer to that, I’d have suggested
turning around already.”

Sam glanced back and sent the tide of calm she practically
expected. Curse him. How did he stay so unflappable? Well, she knew exactly how
to flap him if she had a mind to and threw him an image of dynamite, just for
grins.

She took a deep breath and said, “Sorry, Nat. I’m about to
crash and it’s getting to me. Sam, can we stop for a minute?”

He did immediately, his expression inscrutable, but through the
link, she saw him calculate in his head whether they had the luxury of stopping.
No one had eaten since last night and more than one grumbling stomach vied for
attention. One by one, they sank to the ground, dejection hanging over them
along with tree branches.

Ashley groaned. “We’re never going to find the pilot now and
never get home.”

“What pilot?” Dr. Glasses asked.

“Oh, oops.” She glanced at Sam in apology. “I forgot you
weren’t going to tell anyone about the pilot.”

“Why not? Is it a big secret or something?” Natalie demanded.
“That’s something we should have known a long time ago. How come you know?”

“It’s the um, thing.” Ashley pointed at her head. “I don’t
think he meant to tell me either.”

“No. I did not.” His expression remained blank, as always, but
she sensed his hesitation. “I am not certain the pilot exists.”

“Certain enough, though, right?” Ashley glanced at him for
confirmation. “That’s good enough for me. Besides, what else do we have to
do?”

“Precisely,” Sam confirmed. “Though it does not appear success
will be easy.”

“Why can’t anything in this place do what it’s supposed to? The
yellow brick road always leads to the Emerald City,” Ashley kicked at the path.
“This brown dirt road leads nowhere.”

“Perhaps it is not what you think it is,” Sam suggested, his
brow quirked in thought. “Instead of being a path to somewhere, what if it is a
path from somewhere?”

She lay back against a tree trunk as his meaning sunk in. “You
mean the entrance to the city is back at the river instead of in the
forest.”

“It is a possibility. As you pointed out, the city’s
inhabitants require water. The river is too far from here to be that source on a
daily basis, unless they have developed an underground system of pipes, which I
doubt. I am uneasy in the forest and I fear surprise. The city’s founders may
feel the same.”

“Couldn’t you have come up with that bit of wisdom back at the
river?” Dr. Glasses complained, but without his usual bite. The man was fading
fast. She couldn’t imagine how he carried all that weight around, let alone with
little food or water. Grudgingly, she gave him a couple more points. If he kept
this up, she might be able to tolerate him soon.

“The wisdom came to me because I am not at the river,” Sam
explained calmly. “Ashley and I will rest for a short period of time and then we
will return to the path’s beginning. You may return with us or remain here.”
Hoots punctuated the end of his sentence.

So. She didn’t even have to speak anymore—Sam knew her thoughts
so why open her mouth? Normally she looked for someone to tell her what to say
or give her a script, and instead, she didn’t need words at all. How...not so
terrible.

She sneaked a glance at Sam’s profile. Such a strong face. Not
drool-on-yourself hot like Chace Crawford or adorable-bashful-and-British like
Hugh Westgate, but still compelling in his alien way. Maybe because he wasn’t so
Hollywood.

Also, he always knew what he was doing, even when he didn’t.
That air of authority remained firmly in place, regardless of what went on
inside him. He always had the right words, like he’d memorized a hundred scripts
full of exactly the right thing to say in any circumstance. A twinge of jealousy
reared up and then died.

It was just who he was.

Their eyes met and sparks arced between them, zapping her in
all the wrong places. Exhaustion had put her brain on a nonstop carousel. What
in the world had she communicated, totally by accident, for that look to spring
into his eye?

“Time to go,” she announced and jumped to her feet, leg muscles
screaming. Her vision blacked out for a second and she weaved. Whoa.

Sam swung a steady arm around her waist and nestled her up
against his frame. She almost wept with relief to have his support. But how
could their bodies fit together so naturally?

“I, um, stood up too fast,” she told him. “I’m okay.” She
shrugged out of his grip, way more frightened of his strength and solidness, and
how easily her body responded to it, than of not being able to stand.

They traveled in silence, Sam at the front, Ashley in the back,
stumbling and weaving, but staying on her feet through sheer will until they
emerged from the forest at the river. She knelt on the riverbank and drank as
much water as she could hold, then lay on her side until her head stopped
spinning.

Sam worried about her. His vibe mixed with her own growing
concern about finding refuge soon until the twin streams of consciousness
converged into one solid torrent of panic.

She flipped to escape it and that’s when she noticed the
notches in the tree trunk.

At the base of the left tree marking the entrance to the path
they’d mistaken as the way to Kir Dashamun, four lines were carved into the bark
an equal distance apart, about the height of a script from the ground. She
crawled the thirty-odd yards toward the tree, eyes squinted to better see the
markings. The groupings of four lines continued up the trunk and ended halfway
to the top.

Natalie asked Sam what was going on, but he shushed her and
dropped to the ground next to Ashley.

“Not natural. Not the work of our hooting shadows,” she said to
him. “I never would have seen them if I hadn’t been lying down. The trees are
too full. Significant?”

He reasoned it out in his mind and she followed his images,
then the logic, shaking her head at some of it, nodding at others, until they
arrived at a consensus.

“Four trees down the path and turn left,” they said at the same
time.

Together, they pushed into the forest and counted off four
trunks. Then turned left. Nothing. Only a large tree, so big, if she hugged it,
her arms would barely encircle half the width. Just like thousands of other
trees surrounding them. Disappointed, she glanced at Sam, whose brow furrowed in
concentration.

“Maybe we should count four trees out on the riverbank side?”
she asked.

Instead of answering, he squatted and examined the base of the
trunk with his fingers. “A crack.” He traced it upward into an arch, tall enough
for him to walk through. “It appears to be a doorway. Something is inside.”

A chill raced across her skin, raising goose bumps. “But what?
You can’t hide an entire city in a tree. Oh, of course,” she whispered as Sam’s
images hit her. “It’s underground.”

Chapter Twelve

The humans crowded in beside
One
and Ashley, shoving and vying for a better position to view the
nondescript tree. A combination of anticipation and dread skated along his spine
as he evaluated the sealed entrance. What he prayed would prove to be an
entrance. He could not tolerate another failure. But the
alternative—successfully locating a mythical city—defied comprehension.

“How does it open?” Natalie wondered, her voice high with
hope.

“Say ‘Open Sesame,’” the doctor suggested with an elbow-nudge
on Ashley’s arm. “Isn’t that what they do in the movies? Surely that will work
here.”

“Knock two times, pause, and once more,” Neeko whispered and
One
glanced at him. “I remember now.”

“What did he say?” Natalie asked, but
One
ignored her and did as instructed.

The bark recessed and broke away from the surface in a large
oval. The artificial elements cleverly integrated with the biological. Inside,
smooth metal lined the hollow trunk, creating a shaft which disappeared into a
dark hole. Rungs, in pairs, were riveted to the far side of the cylinder but
darkness prevented him from determining how deeply they went.

One’s
doubts about the boy’s claims
shattered, leaving him with the last bastion of truth he had left—the link.

The doctor snorted. “We’re in the middle of a Greek tragedy.
Once we descend into the mouth of the scary tunnel and cross the river Styx,
will there be a three-headed dog guarding the passage to the city?”

“If you’re not going to say something useful, then don’t say
anything at all,” Ashley shot back.

One
secured his grip on the rungs
and began working his way down. Light flared around him and he peered past his
feet to see how far the shaft descended. The lights below hadn’t activated yet
and several of the activated ones malfunctioned—hissing and popping, or
remaining dark. He paused to be sure Ashley, who entered the shaft next, wasn’t
too dizzy to hold the rungs and then continued the downward climb. The doctor
swung onto the rungs, breathing heavily, then Neeko followed and Natalie
last.

Lights triggered to illuminate the entire length of the shaft,
naught but fifty meters. “It is not much farther,” he called to the others.

The shaft opened into a large space cut from the earth. A
pathway of loose stones led to a tunnel and into the blackness beyond the
anteroom, but a chained gate blocked the entrance. Ashley joined him on the
ground. The smell of wet dirt hung heavy in the air. As the doctor exited the
cylinder and slid into a heap,
One
examined the
chain. An old-fashioned lock secured the ends together.

“Guess they’re not expecting company.” Ashley gave the lock a
tug but it held fast.

Neeko and then Natalie came into the room. Natalie sagged
against the opposite wall and crossed her arms. “Another dead end. Why am I not
surprised?”

“Neeko, do you know how to pass this gate?”
One
asked and held up a finger to Ashley, who
envisioned kicking the gate open.

The boy shook his head and wedged next to Natalie. “It was
always open.”

Clanks and footfalls sounded from the cavern beyond the gate,
cutting him off.

“Who’s there?” A man held a lantern aloft and peered out
through spaces between the black bars and beyond to the shadows.

Hair extended from the man’s chin, which brushed his chest. The
hair on his head grew long as well, caught back in a tail and tied with a dark
string.
One
blinked at a multitude of lines and
wrinkles on the man’s face. Citizens did not age.

One
stepped forward, into the light
so the man might view him. “My companions and I seek refuge, sir. We hope to
find it here.”

With narrowed eyes, the man evaluated
One
, then shook his head. “You wear the uniform of a citizen. We
don’t allow your kind.”

“Please, sir. We barely escaped the city and we’ve come a long
way,” Ashley broke in. Speaking Hahlan. Already? She might well have the
quickest intellect of anyone he’d ever met. She pressed up to
One
, her arm brushing his and the solid show of
partnership warmed him.

Surprise flitted across the man’s features. “You’re not a
citizen. How do you speak Hahlan? Are there more of you?”

“Two more from Earth. And a boy, who was born here,” Ashley
responded and indicated the rest of their group.

“A boy, you say.” The man’s mouth worked as he processed the
information and then opened slightly as Natalie and Neeko rose from their
back-wall sprawl to join them inside the circle of lantern light. “How’d you all
come to be together? Citizens don’t travel with Mora Tuwa.”

Ashley glanced at
One
. Her images
questioned whether to respond truthfully and he nodded.

“We were sent to recycling at the same time. He chose to help
us escape instead of behaving like a good citizen and allowing the Telhada to
kill him.”

It wasn’t exactly what he’d intended for her to say but images
only went so far in communication effectiveness and Ashley’s willingness to do
as instructed went half as far.

The gatekeeper chortled. “Sounds about right.” Sobering, the
old man’s gaze grew keen. “You search for Kir Dashamun?”

“Yes,”
One
said, speaking for the
group. “Have we found it?”

“Why do you seek it?”

One
sensed the answer held a great
deal of importance and might well determine whether they’d be admitted. “As I
mentioned, we need refuge. We are escaped prisoners with death sentences against
us. All of us need food and would appreciate a change of clothing.” For now,
shelter took precedence over the mythical pilot.

After a long pause, the man spat. “What of the streets of gold?
Have you heard whispers of the riches within? Of the exalted status given to
all?”

“I have heard the ridiculous stories. I do not believe any are
true. Nor does anyone else in our party,”
One
added
on their behalf.

With a nod, the man searched the shadows. “You said there were
three from Earth. Where is the other?”

One
pointed to the side wall and
the man shone the lantern in that direction. The doctor lay against the exposed
dirt, dozing.

“Very well. You may enter and find your refuge. There is one
last formality. We cannot be too careful. All our residents are enemies of the
Telhada. The king searches in vain for Kir Dashamun and my job is to make sure
he never finds it. I must verify you are not spies.” He nodded as if to comfort
them. “I’m sure you understand.”

Ashley and
One
arrived at the
implied meaning concurrently. Her terror blasted into his mind. “You have people
here trained to interrogate via an implant. To search long-term memory,” he
said. Revulsion coated his tongue with a metallic slickness.

In addition to the incredible pain associated with an active
memory search, he and Ashley would have to unlink. His heart throbbed. The
precious connection he shared with her would be broken.

“Yes. It’s a requirement.” The gatekeeper’s scrutiny sliced
into him. “If you refuse, you will be put down where you stand and the exit will
seal. We cannot take chances with the lives we shelter here.”

“Of course,”
One
responded and only
Ashley understood how difficult it had been to form the words. She laced her
fingers through his and gripped tightly as they soothed each other through the
link. When she settled and her breathing normalized, he turned to the others to
explain the entrance requirements.

Then to the man behind the bars
One
said, “There is a complication. This human and I are linked. It is how she
learned Hahlan.”

“Hmm.” The man eyed them both and his distaste was apparent.
“We have a disruptor. It will knock you out but the procedure can be performed
while you are still under. It is common enough to do so when someone arrives
here with less than innocent intentions. Inform the technician which of you to
use the disruptor on.”

Ashley.

No question which of them would undergo the interrogation while
unconscious.

Within a few short moments, the gatekeeper opened the lock,
swung the iron door back on squeaky hinges and ushered them all to an anteroom
inside. The doctor roused long enough to join them.

One
insisted the technician render
Ashley unconscious immediately. Her dark fear was killing him.

Before the machine took her under, she sent him one last image,
of the two of them in the river, her arms around him and listening to his
heart.

The link broke with an excruciating snap behind his eyes.
Something sad and heavy crowded into his head, taking up all the space Ashley
had left behind. He volunteered to be first, so the others might find courage in
his example, and endured the painful, intrusive interrogation by thinking about
Ashley, unabashed and unadulterated. Since they were no longer linked, she
wouldn’t be subjected to it and the reader would find those memories anyway.
Doing as he pleased made the process more bearable.

The invasion ended abruptly. Much more quickly than he’d
anticipated. Gutting a subject’s memories for the entire breadth of their
knowledge as his former team in Acquisitions did, took hours, days even, if the
subject had expansive knowledge. The procedure often lagged when the subject
fought the reader. Though painful and intrusive, he’d submitted to this
interrogation in order to receive passage into the city for his charges and that
likely made a difference as well.

Once his procedure ended, the technician started on Ashley, but
One
requested the others be permitted to go next
so they might enter the city in search of food and respite while he waited for
Ashley. The technician cleared Natalie, Neeko and the doctor, then called for a
guide to escort the group from the room. A young male called Frax appeared
outside the reader room, wearing a friendly smile.

“I don’t think we should split up,” Natalie announced with a
quaver. “Can’t we all wait for Ashley?”

“Speak for yourself,” the doctor said. “You can wait here. I
need food.”

The technician—an older male but with hair length more similar
to a citizen—shot
One
a sidelong glance as he
started the sequences on the reader to perform Ashley’s test.

“It’ll be a while until she wakes up, you know,” the technician
informed him with raised eyebrows as he took in
One
and Ashley’s joined hands. “Why don’t you go with the others? Clean up some? You
look pretty rough, my friend. Frax can show you to this one’s room after she’s
moved.”

No
. Every instinct screamed not to
trust anyone with an unconscious Ashley. But eventually, she would return to
Earth and be far beyond the scope of his care. Forever.

All of the refugees were his responsibility, not solely Ashley,
and they did not speak Hahlan. He would see to the others and then wait for
Ashley to awaken. It might be prudent to begin acclimating to their final
separation. “Very well. I will accompany you.”

They emerged from the reader room into another world teeming
with activity. Unlike Kir Barsha, everyone here traversed the streets
freely—talking, laughing, dragging loud children by the hand, carrying baskets
full of strange objects or cloth. Some hurried. Some lingered. A myriad of
lights and darks, whirled together to make a chaotic whole. The lighting here
mirrored the tree-trunk shaft—in poor repair, popping and buzzing, but bright
enough to provide sufficient illumination.

Packed earth, forming the ceiling and the walls, extended
beyond his sight into tunnels leading away from the main thoroughfare. Aged
wood-fronted buildings lined either side of the main crushed-stone street. Dank,
uncirculated air weighted the atmosphere.

The humans murmured to each other, expressing their shock and
dismay at the legendary city’s true appearance. He’d tried to warn them.

To Frax, he said, “We must find sustenance and new clothing at
once. Then I wish to locate my unconscious traveling companion. Will this be
possible?”

The young resident didn’t meet his eyes and
One
resisted an urge to ask him to. How swiftly he’d
grown accustomed to the unspoken communication of a face.

“Yes, sir. This way.” Frax led them down the main street with
quick, sure steps.

He’d intimidated their new acquaintance. Even within the
enclosure of this secret city, he had not shed his inclination to direct others.
Here he had no authority and he waited for the pinch of regret or unhappiness.
None came.

“Sam.” Natalie touched his arm, doubtlessly without realizing
it, though not long ago, she shrank away if he drew too close. She’d lost every
bit of her fear, and the valor which replaced it suited her well. “Will you ask
him about Neeko’s parents? They should know he’s come home right away.”

“Of course.” His primary concern had been for the boy’s safety
but he’d achieved that—the next concern should be to find those previously
responsible for his welfare. When he suggested as much to Frax, their guide’s
eyebrows flew up and with a glance at Neeko, he called to a resident passing by
to fetch another called Lor.

They arrived in front of a ramshackle building which Frax
referred to as the dining hall. As he explained how the community operated, with
residents assigned to duties covering all aspects of life, a commotion
interrupted him. A woman flew around the corner and skidded to a halt before
Neeko, searching the boy’s face with a hungry expression.

“Kalum,” she said, and pressed fingers to her lips when her
voice cracked. Then she knelt and touched his cheek in a hesitant caress. “I
didn’t want to hope. But I’ve— Oh, you’re so big.”