Shadow World (29 page)

"I think since half of us have gone already," said Cara dryly, "the answer is

'yes.' "

For most of the night, as the moons swung overhead and shadows scuttled like live things across the rocky surfaces, the group climbed the giant's steps of barren plateaus. Though

196

sometimes they needed both hands and feet on the steeper slopes, none were as high or difficult as the cliff marking the boundary between desert and mountains.

The night air was cool and reviving, but, for Mark, the hike was a nightmare.

His head throbbed viciously, and his entire body ached, both from the fight and as sore muscles complained at the unaccustomed climbing.

Every minute of the climb he worried about Terris who, tortured by hunger, alternated between fits of panicky wailing, mournful whimpering, and brief, restless naps.

From the blue jersey that held Misir there was no sound or movement at all.

Mark was aware that the Simiu frequently slipped a hand into the sling, and he knew Hrrakk' must be checking for warmth and breath.

Two hours before dawn they topped the final plateau. A narrow valley stretched before them. Small hills rose on either side, and at its far end they could see the hump of a bigger mountain. Behind it, sharply etched in the bright moonlight, rose another range, even larger, and, far away, white-capped peaks shone. Each range was higher than the one before it, as if they'd been neatly set in stepped rows by an arranging hand.

"We won't have to climb them all," reminded Mark, reassuring himself as much as Cara as he checked the map.

"Do you see any water marked out on that thing?" Cara tried to look over his shoulder at the tiny display. Thirst was a torment for all of them by now.

"Not close by and not on a direct route. Maybe they only registered major lakes and rivers," he speculated. "Streams could have been left out. I hope!"

"Mark, I know we're trying to save what's left, but after all that climbing ..."

"I know," he interrupted, bringing out their last, half-full canteen. "I've got to have some, too."

They all drank--except for the now-comatose Misir--then set off again. Dawn found them halfway through the short valley.

Exhausted, every step jarring his already splitting head, the temptation to stop for sleep became an obsession for Mark. But he found himself pushing on, despite his pain and

197

exhaustion. The thought of Terris and the other survivors was too imperative.

He did allow them a short rest and food break, and they chewed more leaves for moisture. "I know we need to sleep," he admitted, looking at Cara's haggard face, "but I'd like to push on a little farther before stopping, since it will be cooler up here than it was in the desert. Any time we can save could make a big difference," he said, knowing they'd follow his meaning.

"Everybody up to a couple hours more walking?" He wondered vaguely if he, himself, was. I
have to be, that's all!

The Apis hovered expectantly, and Hrrakk' looked capable of marching steadily on forever, if need be. Mark's gaze fell on Cara. To his surprise, she laughed.

"I'm beginning to think my name really
is
'everybody.' Do you realize I'm the only one who ever answers these rhetorical questions of yours?"

Mark grinned weakly. "Everybody Hendricks, journalist to the galaxy." He pretended to consider it. "It would look good on a byline."

She snorted rudely.

They started up the wooded mountain at the other end of the valley, the bushy, scattered trees seeming a novelty after the desert and the bare plateaus. As they climbed higher, the plant life began to thicken. Mark noticed the Simiu studying their surroundings. Occasionally Hrrakk' broke his loping stride to touch the leaf of a plant or break off a stalk.
Why in hell is
he interested in Elseemar's vegetation?
Mark wondered.

It was midmorning when they paused again for a water break. One or two swallows, including some for Terris, and their water was gone, except for a small amount he saved for Eerin. Mark considered trying to analyze these new plants to see if there were some they could chew, but he hated to take the time. "There's
got
to be water soon," he said. "Watch for signs of animal trails; listen for stream sounds, check outcroppings for seepage, and be sure to--"

He broke off as Hrrakk' grunted with surprise and untied the blue sling.

There was movement within. Hrrakk' slid the baby Elpind out on one huge palm.

"Oh, no," whispered Cara.

198

Misir's tiny body was trembling all over, hinsi's four limbs outstretched rigidly.

The Simiu cupped his other hand over the baby, cradling it between his palms. In a few seconds the mild convulsion ended, and the child went limp between his fingers.

Gone,
thought Mark. But Hrrakk' held out his open palm with the baby draped across it. "Cara," he said clearly. It was the first time he'd addressed one of them by name.

Tears slid down Cara's face as she sank to the ground, cradling the infant.

The Simiu watched impassively, but the flame-colored crest on his head lay flat, which Mark knew was a sign of distress. The Apis moved up to Cara's left shoulder, touching her with a quivering feeler. Mark knelt at Cara's right shoulder and looked down.

Misir's round, golden eyes opened. They stared up at Cara, but it was plain their unfocused gaze didn't really see. The child's breathing was irregular and labored.

"Do you think hinsi is in pain?" With one finger Cara stroked the top of the soft head. Tears splashed her hand.

Mark regarded those unseeing eyes. "No ... hinsi's pretty much out of it," he answered, hoping it was true. Gently he touched the baby's small shoulder, trailing his finger down the twig-thin arm, over an upturned palm no bigger than a coin. Suddenly six tiny fingers curled loosely around his larger one.

Though the action was probably nothing more than a reflex, his heart contracted painfully, and he fought back tears of his own.

Cara stroked the infant's head. "It's okay," she murmured brokenly, "it's all right. Don't be afraid."

A quick, visible shudder rippled over the flesh beneath the white down. The baby inhaled sharply, once, and then its jaw dropped. The air
whooshed
back out in a bright, swelling bubble of orange blood that burst wetly and dribbled down the lax chin. The golden eyes began to dim.

Mark held his own breath, realizing the little chest had not rounded again. A deep stillness settled over Misir's fragile- looking form, and the last bit of amber light drained from the open eyes.

Mark slid his finger out of the still gently curved shape of the child's hand, stood up, and walked away.

199

* * *

Cara felt strange ... hot and cold at the same time, stiff on the outside while her insides were dissolving away. A large, leathery hand appeared in the field of her blurred vision to lift the body from her lap. "Close the eyes," she said dully.

She sat there for a while, not thinking, just letting the sun soak warmth into her bones. The Apis poked around the base of a tree looking for small insects while Hrrakk' ...

Cara registered finally what Hrrakk' was doing: digging a small grave with their multitool. He seemed as stolid as ever, betraying no emotion at the nature of his task, but she remembered how he'd spoken her name, how he'd given her Misir to hold one last time.
He has to be hurting, too ...

She got up on wobbly legs and went over to him. "Honored Hrrakk' ... are you all right?" she asked in Mizari.

He grunted and nodded without speaking.

Cara wanted to put a hand on his massive shoulder, remembering how the Apis' touch had brought her such comfort, but she resisted, knowing the Simiu would not appreciate such a gesture from a human. "We all appreciate ... especially I appreciate ... that you tried to save ... Misir." She had to close her eyes and bite her lip to choke back sobs. "Thank you for that," she said. "And ... thank you ... for saying my name."

He did not turn around or reply, merely resumed his stolid digging.
But at
least he didn't tell me to get lost,
Cara thought. "I'm going to find Mark," she said. "I'm sure he didn't go far. I'll be back ... soon."

The Simiu nodded silently.

Cara found Mark sitting on a rock, perfectly still, in a little clearing farther along their map route. She studied him for a moment from behind a clump of small trees.

Dried sweat and possibly tears had mixed with dirt to turn his tanned face into a dirty mask, looking doubly filthy in contrast to the whiteness of the bandage around his head. His hair, lighter now from the sun, hung matted and limp. The white shirt, beige sweater, and white pants had resisted dirt and stains better than flesh, but even they looked grimy. Cara looked down at herself, realizing she must look nearly as bad.
My kingdom for a bath and
clean clothes ...

200

She stepped out of the trees and moved toward him, and hearing her approach, Mark looked up, his hazel eyes, seeming lighter now in the sun-darkened face, empty and bleak.

Cara regarded him uncertainly. "I was worried about you."

"Sorry. I didn't mean for you to worry. I just had to get away for a minute."

"Where's Terris?"

He patted the lump under his shirt. "Right here, asleep."

She sat down beside him on the sun-warmed rock. "So ... do you want to talk about it?"

Mark shrugged and looked away. "I was thinking about my mother when she died. Wondering how it was, you know." He took a deep, shaky breath.

"Wondering if anybody held
her
hand."

"Mark, you've got to let her go," Cara said earnestly. "I think you know that as well as I do."

Her bluntness evidently surprised him; frankly, it had rather surprised Cara herself. Slowly he turned and looked at her. "And if she knew that you're leaving StarBridge because she died," she continued, after a moment,

"she'd feel terrible."

Mark examined his hands, trying to dig the dirt out from under his fingernails without notable success. "That's not why I'm dropping out," he said finally.

"Then why?"

"I'm not sure myself anymore--dammit, Cara, I'm not sure of anything these days! Part of it is that the thought of any decision of mine causing anyone's death--
ever--
makes my blood run cold. Interrelators can face situations where their decisions could mean life or death."

"Situations like this hijacking," she pointed out.

"I suppose so."

"Seems to me you've acquitted yourself rather well, for someone who can't handle pressure. Negotiating with Orim-- something that would leave even the most seasoned professional sweating--plus the way you've led us on this little jaunt through the wilderness. Look at the way you were able to talk Hrrakk' into taking the baby."

"For all the good it did," he said bitterly.

"That doesn't negate the fact that you were able to persuade a Simiu who obviously has absolutely no use for humans to do

201

something he didn't want to do."

Mark shook his head. "Whatever made him take that child, it wasn't anything I said. I certainly haven't figured out what makes Hrrakk' tick. There's something about him ... something he's hiding ..."

"I've sensed that, too. But, Mark, don't try to change the subject. You've got to admit you've done an interrelator's job aboard the
Asimov
and here on Elseemar."

"I did the best I could," he corrected shortly.

"But that's the point! The
best
we can do is
all
we can do! Sometimes things go wrong despite our best efforts. You're right, sometimes people die, but that's no reason to give up."

"It's reason enough for me," he said tightly. "I
hate
death." His voice warmed with passion. "I really do."

"Since all of us have to die sooner or later, it seems to me you're wasting a lot of energy on something that can't be changed," she said mildly.

"I know. I'm trying to come to terms with it, and I'll think that I have, then something like Misir's death--or finding out that Eerin doesn't plan to take Elhanin, even if it becomes available--will happen, and I feel like someone kicked me in the stomach," he said bitterly. "Eerin says I'm running from life."

Cara thought that over, then nodded slowly. "Maybe Eerin is right. And maybe when you're ready to stop running from life, you won't need to run so hard from death either."

He sighed, but remained silent.

She stirred reluctantly. "I guess we'd better get back ..."

"You're right."

As they slid off the rock together, she caught his arm. "Mark ..." she said suddenly, fiercely.

He put his hand over hers, obviously surprised at the urgency in her expression. "What is it?"

"Do you think we'll ever get
home?"
Cara felt her throat tighten painfully. "I've tried not to think about it, but ... it's getting to me ..." She gulped. "They've probably called
my
mother and told her ..."

As she trailed off, unable to say the rest of it, he put his arms around her, the warm, comforting grasp of a friend. His embrace felt good, and she leaned against him for a minute or

202

so. Then, without speaking, she pulled herself free and they left the clearing together.

When they reached the others, the first thing they saw was Eerin. "Eerin,"

Cara said, "Misir ... Misir is dead."

"Hin grieves for the small journey-taker," said Eerin softly. The gold eyes were mournful.

Mark looked at the Elpind's empty hands. "Did you find some food for Terris?

The sestel?"

Hin shook hin's head. "No," the Elpind said. "At least ... hin was not sure.

There is a growth farther on that resembles the wild sestel hin has seen, but it differs in some ways. Hin thought it would be best to check with Hrrakk'

and possibly use Mark's cell analyzer to discover whether it is indeed sestel before giving it to Terris."

"Did you find
water!"
Cara asked urgently.