Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (25 page)

“Every year?”

My eye was caught by the flash of blue light in the transfer chamber. A man appeared and wheeled his cargo boxes carefully into the constantly milling crowd, and it made me think there was likely a distribution center in another underground cavern. Another man disappeared. A family appeared and moved down the rows. There was a constant flow from the transfer chamber. Cynthia kept on, seeing nothing unusual.

“Huge celebrations take place. Feasts and festivals in all capital cities.”

“Sounds like a good time.” My eyes scanned the room, and I saw that just like on Earth, many people were talking into electronic devices, only here it was just a little different. Just like what Frank had used, each of the devices people carried projected an image that seemed to rest in the person’s open palm, displaying whomever they were talking to.

Totally bizarro world. So many things that were like what we had back home, only slightly tweaked.

“The elections are mostly for show. The leaders are all so beloved, particularly because they’ve brought us through trying times, we’ve basically had the same ones in office for the last twenty years or more. It’s how I know Ryder and Nick so well. Their families are part of high court.”

“Are the festivals fun?”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it. The one in Reethan is a blast. I think it’s the best one. The people of Reethan are way more relaxed than the people in every other province. We’ve actually been able to find loopholes in a few of the nation’s laws.”

“Where is Reethan?”

“We’re basically an island to the north, which allows us to specialize in seafood exports to all the provinces.

“Is Nick from Reethan?”

Cynthia wrinkled her nose. “No. He’s from Milos. There isn’t a more conservative region in Sunan. Every
t
is crossed and every
i
is dotted.”

“Sort of Amish?”

“You might say.”

I gave it a moment, let her think I was going to move on, smiled at the children playing tag in an area sectioned off for them, then popped a question. “You and Nick. What’s happening?”

She flushed a red that was bright enough to make the sun envious.
Jackpot!

“There’s nothing going on.” She took a big bite of her meat pie and started chewing slowly, trying to look nonchalant.
Damn
,
she’s good
,
but I’m sneaky.

“That’s not what I read off of him earlier.” I gave her a pointed look.

“What—” She almost choked on her food. Coughing and sputtering, she grabbed a big gulp of her drink to wash it all down, and she was still gasping and trying to recover a full minute later. I felt bad for tricking her. Nick was actually tight as a clam. He gave nothing away voluntarily, not that I’d tried. It did tell me she had something to hide, though.

“Did you really get something off him?” she croaked with reddened eyes.

With an apologetic, chagrined look, I shook my head, which made her glare at me. Still, I demanded, “Spill it Cyn. What’s happening with you guys?”

She took a deep breath and wiped her mouth absently with the back of her shaky hand. “Okay. This is all I’m going to say, so listen hard. I had a crush on him a few years ago. I managed to embarrass us both with it, and I’ve left him alone ever since. He thought my brother was in danger and came to let me know. My brother turned out to be fine, but other than that, there’s nothing going on. I probably have some residual embarrassment left over from that time, but it’s nothing I want to go into details about. I guarantee you.”

I pouted, wanting more of the juicy deets, but gave it up with a mental shrug. I knew that mulish look on her face. I wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. Playfully, I stuck my tongue out.

“You want some shoes?” She tried to give me a frosty look.

I answered with a winning smile that spread across my face, cheek to cheek, and sing-songed, “I’ll be your best friend.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I thought you were my best friend.”

The next hour was one of perpetual motion. There were wonderful materials—beautiful, soft and feminine—to choose from. It was true that all women were dressed in the same kinds of clothes that we were wearing: blouses and loose-fitting pants. I mentioned that I thought it strange that not one woman was wearing a dress, and Cynthia let me know that dresses and skirts had been outlawed for safety reasons.

“What safety reasons?” I scowled, feeling outraged. What a crazy place it was that women couldn’t wear what they wanted to wear. It felt like a violation of justice and personal freedoms.

“Rape prevention,” Cynthia said matter-of-factly.

“How does a pair of pants prevent rape?”

“By wearing fewer form-fitting or revealing clothes, women will somehow be safer, and men won’t be tempted to cross boundaries without invitation.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ve been on Earth for a while now, and you wear whatever the hell you want without having problems.”

“Well, obviously, I agree with you,” Cynthia replied impatiently. She continued poking through a stack of folded blouses on a table. “I didn’t vote for the law—I guess I was too young anyway—but it won by a majority.”

“So if a law passes prohibiting you to do something that’s perfectly innocent, then that’s it? You have no more choice in the matter?”

“Pretty much. That’s what makes us a successful democracy. We all need to compromise to get along.”

“Don’t you guys have any guaranteed rights?”

“Of course, but the law passed after Ryder’s sister was raped and killed. It was like having...I don’t know, Princess Di pass away. She was the poster girl for Milak in particular and Sunan as a whole. The people felt like they needed to do something, like somehow that would keep us all safe. You know, we aren’t hugely populated like the U.S. We’re a very close-knit society.”

I grimaced. “She was raped and killed?”

“The provinces were in shock. They didn’t want any man to have easy access, I suppose, and didn’t want women’s legs hampered while trying to run, which, I’m told, is what happened to Ryder’s sister. I have to say, it took me a while to wear a skirt back on Earth.” Her eyes became unfocused as she remembered something that made her cheeks flush and her lips flatten into a grim line. “But I do appreciate the personal freedoms that you have there. It’s more what I’m used to on Reethan.”

This explained so much. Now the whole I’m-flashing-my-ass-for-everyone-at-the-club argument made sense. Ryder’s anger over the fact that I was wearing a miniskirt and that he’d had to school some guy for trying to make an ass grab was clicking. Maybe his sense of propriety had been offended, but even deeper was a...rage? Did it remind him of what happened to his sister?

“Okay, you will love these shoes. They’re made with the most comfortable cushiony soles from one of our native species of rubber tree, the
burbur
tree.”

“Hey! I’ve seen a pair of these in your closet.”

“Well, technically, I wasn’t supposed to bring them to Earth, but I just couldn’t resist, so keep quiet about it. But trust me, your feet will feel like they’ve gone to heaven.” She handed me a pair of shoes that were soft and had light beige suede that wrapped across the top of the foot and buckled at the heel, like a little wraparound blanket for my foot. The sole was thick, but light.

Thankful to get my heels off again, I stepped down into the shoes and wanted to cry out with the joy of it. My abused feet wept happily, and I made a silent promise not to force another heel on them for at least thirty-six hours. Of course, I immediately wanted to buy the shoes. We also managed to grab a pair of pants in my size and another blouse that was a feminine, pale blue material, soft and delicate and perfect for my height and skin tone. Cynthia was enthused because she thought the color made my eyes “pop.”

They will all be killed!
Their blood will paint the walls
,
and I will have to live with my conscience.
Can I do this?

I heard the anxious thought loudly and felt grief engulf the words. The emotion wrapped me in apprehension, and I glanced around, wondering where it had come from. All I saw were people minding their own business in various modes of interaction. There were some people walking swiftly with purpose, others ambling and still others standing, looking over merchandise or just chitchatting while children played together. No one looked suspicious. Cynthia seemed unaware of it, chattering away about the clothing we’d bought and the fact that I would have something absolutely unique to wear back home. Well...if she hadn’t heard it...

“I will pay you back. I’m getting paid in a week,” I said with a forced grin, though I was feeling just a smidge discomfited.

“You’ve paid me back in spades,” Cynthia stated simply. “Let me do this.”

“No, I’m not going to...”

I
can’t let him do this!
But I have to.
It’s the only way.

The pain-filled words were accompanied by a feeling of growing horror, which wrapped around me with interwoven strands. It invaded my personal space and braided through the sinews of my thoughts, pricking me with painful thorns. I winced from the mental anguish.

My head whipped around. I knew it was coming from someone here. Now.

“What is it?” Cynthia sounded concerned.

“You didn’t hear that?”

“What?”

“Somebody...”

I tried to open my mind and focus on just the one grief-stricken thread I was looking for. It had fallen silent, but another thread, a darker, destructive, violent thread, became a force that squeezed my lungs. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I gasped with the need to take in air. Someone was going to do indescribable harm.

“You’re scaring me! Don’t just stand there! Talk!” Cynthia shook me sharply. My head snapped hard, making me come back to the present.

“Violence. Death.”

“When?”

“Immediate.”

The virulent intent grew. Vicious anger enveloped me until I felt I was swimming in it. A chaotic mind ached with feelings of grief for loved ones lost and was looking for revenge.

“How?” She grabbed a device calmly, but swiftly, from her shoulder bag.

“I don’t know.” Panic edged my voice, making it sound shrill.

“Take a deep breath and concentrate. You have amazing power, Tay. Work it. Focus it!” Her voice turned hard and slapped at me. Her fingers flew over a device she’d palmed, and I reached for calm.

I looked more closely at those moving around the market. Was there someone acting suspiciously? Being furtive? But with so many people moving around, that wasn’t going to do me any good. I stepped out into the busy aisle, hoping to get a hot or cold feel for where the energy was coming from. I needed to focus on the energy signature; the concept Cynthia had introduced me to now made sense.

I filtered out the surrounding white noise and unfocused my eyes so they weren’t caught by perpetual movement or colors. I dimmed the roar of thoughts and feelings that were coming to me from all directions and just probed mentally where the dark, roiling venom was coming from. I caught it. I felt the strength of it growing. It tugged at me.

The moment was surreal. I was experiencing space separate from time as I moved through the layers of people with Cynthia following me, looking around anxiously.

“There it is,” I whispered to myself as I felt the pull of dark energy. It was near the transfer center.

“Do you have a lock on it?” Cynthia asked tersely.

“Somewhere near where we came in,” I murmured, and my eyes quickly scanned the individuals.

“Yes,” she breathed, as though now having a sense of it.

On the face of it, the scene was commonplace to any public setting. People arrived and departed sporadically, individually and in groups, suddenly appearing or evaporating within the vibrant blue light. The only people who stood out were a pair of women walking together, one of them holding a catlike critter in her arms. A frown marred her features as she looked over her shoulder.

Inexcusably rude
was the comment that jumped out at me.
Almost knocking me over without a word of apology.
I focused on whom they were referring to and zeroed in on a pair—someone fairly tall and someone of more average height. They had cloaks on, hoods resting over their faces, obscuring them. That in itself seemed strange, as not a single other person was covering their head. We were indoors. It wasn’t the least bit cold.

They were absorbed in a task within a large canvas bag that was hanging from the shorter person’s shoulder. It wasn’t an unusual bag. Cynthia had one on her own shoulder, sort of a large canvas tote. A shallow glance would give the impression they were rummaging for something. Other than that, they blended in with the cavern wall, remaining out of the way.

This will become their tombs.

The original pain-filled thread presented itself again with a tone of acceptance. Finality.

Armed.
Ready to go.

It came directly from one of the hooded pair.

A door in my mind whispered open, briefly showing me another plane of acute and infinite knowing, and my senses had a moment of saturation. Within a fraction of a second, the details fast-forwarded through my brain with stinging pain, like a wind whipping sand against my flesh at a hundred miles per hour. I was seeing more than I could make sense of. And I was filled with power.

“A bomb!” I gasped painfully, finally seeing the entire plan in mind. “We’re all going to die!”

The surge of information ended with one more piece. I saw my purpose. A chilling, calming shroud fell over me. I had never been more important in my own life than right at this moment, right here.
Now or never
...

I ran at the pair, screaming a battle cry. Distantly, I heard Cynthia’s horrified shout. With no real weapons, I paused a dozen paces from where they were and threw my heavy platform shoes at them. The pair broke apart, startled. A foreign-sounding expletive shot from the taller one.