Shadow World (3 page)

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"Do you know that student's name, Esteemed One?" "He is a fourth-year student. Mark Kenner," Ssoriszs replied as his tentacles waved her aboard a nearby elevator. The lift pressed them gently against its walls as it went sideways, then dropped. "On the next level," said the Mizari, "we will see the library, the gym, and ..."

"Mark, wait up!"

The moment he heard himself hailed, Mark Kenner remembered what he'd forgotten. With a sigh he turned and let Sulinda Carmel, his girlfriend for nearly six months now, catch up to him. Her ebony curls tumbled prettily as she half jogged through the crowd of students outside the Arena. Her olive cheeks were flushed with anger.

"I looked for you at lunch, but you didn't show. Did you forget you were supposed to meet me at the Spiral Arm?" Her black eyes sparkled with a mixture of irritation and concern as she stopped before him.

"Susu, I'm really sorry," Mark said humbly. "I had something else on my mind. I didn't get an assignment in to Esteemed Rissaz, and she was furious ... and that was right before lunch, so I went to the library to try and catch up ..." Mark trailed off, seeing a tally in the girl's eyes of how many times he'd let her down these past two and a half months since his mother ...

"Honest, it just slipped my mind, Su. If you'll forgive me, we could go to dinner instead."

"Now that I've accosted you in the hallway, you mean? We wouldn't have had a lunch date if I hadn't arranged it, because you haven't called me in days. I don't deserve that, you know. If there's something you're trying to tell me, have the courtesy to tell me to my face."

Two of Sulinda's traits that attracted Mark were her mercurial temper and her directness ... but not at the moment. After an already trying day, Mark's own temper threatened to stir, but he made another attempt to soothe her. "Come on," he coaxed. "You know I didn't stand you up deliberately. Rissaz bawled me out thoroughly, and my mind was on that instead of lunch, that's all."

This time Sulinda picked up on his reference to the Mizari instructor. "Mark!

Don't tell me the assignment you didn't

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complete was that one on Mizari art forms, not after Rissaz gave you a two-week extension!" She was aghast.

Sulinda ranked in the top five percentile, and Mark knew she'd never been late on an assignment in her life.
Up to three months ago,
he thought bitterly,
neither had I.

"Do you want to wash out of here? With only a year to go?" Her tone held more irritation than sympathy. "Don't you think that would be pretty stupid?"

That stung ... and came far too close to a topic Mark wasn't ready to discuss.

"What I want," he growled, "is for people to get off my case for just one day!"

At his unexpected vehemence her eyes widened, and she backed away a step as if he'd threatened to strike her.

"Shit," Mark groaned, reaching out for her. "I didn't mean it that way, Su. You know you're the only one I can ..." He had to stop, embarrassed by the unexpected lump in his throat.

Sulinda took another step backward. Her eyes beneath her soft, tumbled bangs brimmed with angry tears. "Mark, I've tried to keep us together, but I'm tired of being the only one trying. It's been nearly three months since your mother died and you're still punishing yourself for something that was in no way your fault. That's bad enough; it's causing you to let go of your grades, your friends, everything you've worked for. But lately you've started punishing
me]
I don't intend to take it anymore!"

"Well, no one's forcing you to. If all you want to do is fight today, I'll take a rain check, thanks." Mark turned his back on her and walked the short distance to his locker. He thumbed it open, then stood staring blankly at the inside, trying to remember just what it was he had to do for tomorrow. He had a lot of assignments due ... some of them, like Rissaz's report, overdue. I'll
go
to bed early,
he rationalized, tossing his data cassettes inside,
and study
fresh in the morning ...

Sulinda hadn't moved; he could feel her eyes on his back. Mark shut the locker and reluctantly turned to face her.

Her dark eyes were brilliant with anger, but her voice was deadly quiet as she said, "I don't want to fight any more either, Mark. You're right. No one's forcing me, and I don't choose to be a masochist. I can't make you happy, and you're making
me
miserable." She took a couple of steps toward him and held

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out an open palm. On it lay his fourth year pin. She'd taken it off the breast of her blue StarBridge jumpsuit while his back had been turned.

He stared at her incredulously. "You really want to do this over one missed lunch?"

"It's not one lunch and you know it. We've done nothing but go through the motions for weeks now. I think you pushed me into this because you didn't have the guts to do it yourself. Am I right?"

No! You're wrong, Susu! Breaking up with you is the last thing I want. Why
can't I tell you so?
Mark wondered. Instead it was as if his mouth had a life of its own. "You're the one who's got it all figured out," he said evenly. "Not me."

She nodded sharply. "Fine, then. Good luck, Mark. You're going to need it."

Somehow the pin was in his hand. Mark stared at it as if he'd never seen it before. It showed him a tiny, holographic image of a rainbow bridge linking two planets against a black, star-studded sky. Emblazoned across the arch of the bridge were his initials: WMK. William Mark Kenner.

He looked back up to find Sulinda gazing pointedly at the breast of his gold-colored jumpsuit where her own pin, identical to his except for the initials, rested. Somehow he fumbled it off.

Sulinda took her pin back with a calm dignity. Before Mark could think of anything else to do or say, she was gone.

Mark stood frozen by his locker, the little pin digging into his palm, for what seemed like a long time. Beneath the momentary anger and the hurt, he felt the bone-deep tiredness of depression that plagued him so often now. It coiled around his limbs, weighing him down. Finally he sighed and headed for the small suite he shared with a second-year student, Hamir Rajannipah.

Hamir's short, slender frame was sprawled on the couch in their common living room. The eerie clattering of a Mizari windweed recording blasted from their sound system. Like Mark, Hamir was majoring in the Mizari culture.

"Hey, Mark," he greeted over the din, "you're late."

The older student made a perfunctory gesture, but didn't speak as he stalked past his roommate into his bedroom. The

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message light was flashing on his computer link, but Mark

ignored it.
It's just Rob Gable,
he thought with a grim certainty,
wanting to
know why I missed my counseling session today.

Throwing himself on the bed, he flung an arm across his eyes to block out the illumination from the ceiling panels. He

¦couldn't muster the energy to order the lights to dim.

"Mark?" There was a quick knock at the door, then Hamir

[came in without waiting for an invitation. He surveyed his

Ssuitemate with concern. "Uh-oh. You look like you just lost your best friend."

"Yeah, well ..." Mark shrugged without emerging from the shelter of his arm.

"Rough day."

"You ready for dinner?"

"No," he mumbled. "You go on."

"Thetor and I waited on you. I told him I'd call when you [got in. We were all going to study for tomorrow's test on Mizari generational taboos,

remember?" [ "I'll catch up to you later," Mark promised, knowing he wouldn't. "It's been a long day. I just need a few minutes to myself."

[ The boy hesitated, then shrugged. "Okay. Suit yourself." Hamir's words lingered behind after he'd gone.
You look like you just lost your best friend ...

Mark blinked against a sudden sting of tears. That's what Sulinda had been to him, all right. His best friend. She was fun and she was sexy, but more important, she was a very genuine person whom Mark had come to admire.

And, yes, depend on. They'd shared everything; he'd never known that kind of companionship before.
Dammit, Susu ... why didn't I stop you? I could
have, I know it ...

On impulse, to shut out the cry for her in his mind, Mark rolled off the bed.

"Mirror," he commanded, and the wall opposite him flickered, then went reflective. He stared curiously at the face reflected there, wondering if it seemed different to others. Almost everyone he met lately who knew him had commented that he didn't look well ...

His reflected countenance seemed much the same ... perhaps a bit thinner, the slight hollows beneath the high cheekbones more pronounced. He'd lost weight, though he'd tried not to miss out on too many of his self-defense workouts.

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Somehow yelling and punching and kicking had helped him exorcise--if only for a moment--some of his demons.

There were dark shadows beneath his eyes, but those weren't uncommon, especially around exam time. So what was it that made people say he looked different? Perhaps it was the expression in his eyes. Even to himself he appeared weary and beaten ... as though nothing much mattered

anymore.

Mark suddenly realized the little rainbow pin was stil clenched in his fist. He tossed it on the nightstand where it caught the light as it tumbled to a halt between two small holo cubes, one of Sulinda and one of his mother.
Ironic,
he thought bitterly.
I'm studying to be an interrelator, a living bridge between
worlds--and I can't even bridge the space between myself and the people I
love ... loved
...

He shook his head. Becoming a StarBridge interrelator had always been such a reachable dream for him. He'd always enjoyed being with people, learning about people--any kind of "people." Differences in outward form or customs didn't frighten or repulse him; they only intrigued him. "Mark's never met a stranger," his mother had bragged to the StarBridg testing panel that had profiled her son at age twelve.

At fourteen, Mark had left Earth to attend the Academy. From the first he'd taken readily to the alien languages, exotic foods, and weird mixture of living styles and mores that were commonplace in a school where beings from so many different worlds lived and studied together. While some human students spent their first year uneasily struggling to accept giant slugs or creatures resembling baby blankets as sentient beings Mark had no trouble.

"A natural interrelator," his teachers had declared. "One of our best ever."

Until now.

Mark scooped up the pin and dropped it in a drawer, where he wouldn't have to see its mute reminder of failed ideals am dreams. Sulinda was right. His grades weren't the only thing that had gone awry this quarter. One by one he'd antagonized his friends, rejecting their sympathy, driving them away.

He had shut out those who wanted to help him, like Rob Gable.

It was his own fault, he knew that. He knew his feelings about his mother's death were tangled somehow with a growing certainty that he didn't belong at this school. What he didn't

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know was why he couldn't seem to escape from the whirlpool of guilt and grief that was sucking him under. Everything he'd ever cared about, everything he'd tried to be, was swirling away, vanishing into that maelstrom.

The other thing he didn't know was what to do about it.

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Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2

Decisions and Schemes

Cara decided she was in a mild state of shock.
To go from meeting your very
first extraterrestrial in the morning to facing dozens of them by dinner is too
much for anybody. Overload,
she diagnosed clinically.

Esteemed Ssoriszs had given her a choice: dinner with the school's Chhhhkk-tu Administrator tonight or tomorrow night. Cara had chosen the postponement, figuring she'd see more interesting sights in one of the student dining areas.

And was I right! Though I'm not sure "interesting" is the word for it ...

Incredible that there could be so many different ways of eating! She'd watched food siphoned, absorbed, crunched, or packed into orifices where orifices had no business being. At least she guessed some of the stuff she saw disappearing could be called food. Her own appetite had rapidly vanished.

After a while she'd sent her student guide back to do homework, promising she would go to her room and fall into bed after dinner. Now she was just relaxing, with her camera off.

Well, not exactly relaxing. Even with the new things to see and learn during her first day at StarBridge, she hadn't been

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able to get the Elpind's upcoming visit out of her mind. A documentary on StarBridge wasn't half the news that the interview with Eerin would be ... and she intended to be completely prepared for what might be the chance of a lifetime.

She was finishing her second page of draft questions, sipping at a fruit drink, when she looked up to see someone she recognized coming through the door. It was the young man from the hallway.

Cara watched as he collected a tray and headed for a servo, admiring his build.
Wide shoulders, nice butt, and handsome, too. Wonder if he has a
girlfriend?
The thought made her grin inwardly.
Where's your professional
detachment? Those are hardly journalistic thoughts, girl.

She looked him over again, searching for a clue to his mood. If she wanted to interview him while the emotions of his trying day were still fresh with him, now seemed like the best time. Waving her camera unobtrusively into position, but not turning (it on, she got up and crossed over to where he sat.

[ "Hello! Mind if I join you?"

Listlessly he nodded at one of the empty seats. Cara sat down and took a deep breath. "I'm Cara Hendricks, a journalist from Earth. What's your name?" [ "Mark Kenner," he said reluctantly. "I'd like to interview you, Mark.

May I activate my camera?"