Watchstar (18 page)

Daiya looked from Etey to Reiho, wondering if that were true.

“Someone should travel with her,” Etey said.

“I'll take my chances,” Daiya said, afraid that the two would begin to fight.

Reiho was shaking his head. “I agree. Someone should travel with her. It's my responsibility, I brought Daiya here, so I shall go, too.”

Neither Reiho nor Etey was paying any attention to her. Daiya shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling that she should tell Reiho to stay here, but she was afraid to go back only with Etey. The woman turned and spoke to Reiho in another language. He shook his head vehemently. Daiya bowed her head and stared at her feet.

“Please wait here,” Etey said. She took Reiho's arm. Daiya watched them walk down to the brook. Etey began to speak to the boy. Daiya could not hear her voice. Reiho pulled away from the woman. His lips were moving.

Miserable and uncomfortable, Daiya observed the argument. Reiho had told her confrontation was difficult for his people. In their quiet, studied way, the two by the brook were probably tearing at each other.

Reiho spun around and came back to her. Etey, after a few moments, followed him. “We are both going to take you back,” Reiho said as he reached Daiya's side.

“I'm sorry, Reiho. I didn't mean for you to argue over it.”

“It was nothing.” He glanced at Etey and Daiya knew he was still angry. “I have a responsibility. And I was the first to contact an Earthdweller after all this time, I have my pride, and must see this through.” He stared at Etey for a long time in silence. “I will not be robbed of my accomplishment,” he said at last.

Daiya thought: I am a pawn. They will use me for their own ends, even Reiho. She lifted her head. Earth was her world. She would regain her powers and then she would control them.

“Very well,” Etey said. “We must prepare.”

They lifted off in a larger shuttle this time, moving up, out of the root, over tangled brown furrows. Daiya leaned back as Etey maneuvered the craft. Another shuttle, with a young couple inside, darted past them, traveling in another direction. She would never see this world again, of that she was sure. She would live on her own world.

Etey pressed a panel and leaned back. Both she and Reiho were clothed in their silver lifesuits. They had offered such a suit to Daiya, but she had refused it; in spite of that, she was sure one had been brought aboard for her. She sighed. She could not live in this place without a calming implant, they were afraid to set foot on Earth without their silver suits. It was absurd that human beings should be so cut off from one another's worlds. The thought startled her.

The shuttle lifted past the giant tree trunks. Daiya recalled her idea that these people might want to return to Earth in large numbers. It had been a foolish thought. They could learn what they wanted to know through Homesmind. They could walk through a vision of the desert, mountains, and plains almost as real as the reality. They could view the history of her people—and their own ancestors—by means of Homesmind's link with the machines of Earth. Her world was only a curiosity, a backwater, a place most of humankind had managed to escape.

They floated up among the large shiny leaves. For a moment, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing. Her new knowledge had robbed her of her previous convictions. She shook her head. No, she thought, that's not right. Everything in her world rested on the principle that human minds should not be divided from one another, and even Reiho's people believed this in their own way, with modifications. That principle still stood, however odd or distorted her own application of it might appear to her village. It was why she was going back. She would have to hang on to that conviction; she only wished her heart and spirit could assent to it as easily as her reason.

Even so, she would have to hide Etey and Reiho from her people; they were not ready to see such a vision, and the woman and boy would be in danger. She glanced at Reiho, who sat next to her. He smiled.

They shot out from the glistening leaves. The comet grew smaller behind them, becoming a tangled plant on a black sea. Daiya thought of uprooted stems and flowers caught by the river and carried downstream.

12

Daiya breathed the air of Earth again, and let her mind roam. There was a lizard nearby; she touched its unthinking mind as it sat in the shade of a cactus. She drew inside herself, becoming aware of the implant, and began to adjust the humors of her body.

Etey took her hand. “You will not need this any more,” she said. She pressed a thin rod against Daiya's arm. Daiya felt a sharp prick. There was a small mark on her arm where the implant had been. She sat down near the shuttle, feeling apprehensive, thinking that perhaps she might have needed the tranquilizer after all. She grimaced at the thought; better to rely on herself.

Etey stumbled a bit as she went into the vehicle to get some water. The woman seemed disoriented. Daiya stretched her arms over her head. She lifted some sand, shaping a small pillar, then released it. The sand fell, raising a dirt cloud. She touched Reiho's powerless mind, able at least to feel his apprehension. She sent out a tendril to Etey.

The woman's head jerked. She hopped out of the shuttle, almost falling to the ground. Her brown eyes were wide. Daiya was startled; Etey had felt her thought. She withdrew, unsure of what it meant. Etey sat down near her and looked around at the desert. Daiya touched her mind again. Etey glanced around more frantically.

“That was me,” Daiya said. Reiho came out of the craft and sat down with them.

“What do you mean?” Etey asked. Her thoughts were roiling, unreadable as a child's; she could not even put up a wall.

“That was me, touching your mind. You sensed it. Reiho can't, because he's a solitary, but you can. I don't understand it.”

Etey sighed. “So that is what it was. It was not all I felt. Somehow, here, I feel that I am sensing things without being able to tell what they are. I thought it was only that I am not used to this place.”

“I don't understand it,” Daiya repeated. “I thought all of you were solitaries.”

Etey was silent, thinking. Daiya caught a few of her thoughts; she was reviewing the knowledge about Earth that Homesmind had conveyed to her. “I believe I understand it,” Etey said at last. “There are people you call solitaries still born here.”

“It doesn't happen very often,” Daiya said, knowing that Etey had found the killing of such children appalling.

Etey waved a hand. “It must be that people with your abilities, however few they may be, are still born on our world. Homesmind no doubt reasoned that it did not matter whether such traits remained, or were eliminated. Perhaps it even thought they should be preserved for some reason. At least now I know why, when I was young, I was quicker to learn to read body language and expressions than other children. We are not so different.” She leaned back, resting against the shuttle. “I feel very strange here. Maybe this is a good thing, if your people come upon us, they will sense that I am like them. They might not be as frightened then.”

“It is not good,” Daiya responded. “What if the Merging Ones should, by some chance, survey this area with their minds? If they sensed only Reiho, they might easily think he was an animal, or a strange creature they could ignore, or an illusion. If they touch your mind, I cannot know what they would do.”

They had landed in the desert, in the southeast, far from the village. Uncomfortable and hot as it might get, it was far safer than landing on the other side of the mountains, near the foothills or plains, where young people on playful sojourns from the village might find them. Daiya explored the surface of Etey's thoughts; her mental powers were only rudimentary, undeveloped, weak from never having been exercised. “Luckily, your powers aren't strong,” Daiya went on. “If they were, you would be easier to find, since you cannot even put up a wall.”

Reiho seemed tense. Etey was chastened, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. “Could I not learn how to use them?” she asked. “Surely the cybernetic intelligences under the mountains could teach me something.”

“They can give you only information, and power for your abilities,” Daiya replied. “These are skills which must be practiced and developed. It would take you too long to learn them. I've lived here all my life and I'm still mastering certain skills.” She exhaled loudly, exasperated, angry, and afraid. “This is worse than if you were one like Reiho.” The boy frowned as she spoke. “You can cause many problems. You cannot control your mind. You could be dangerous. If you go to sleep here, the things buried inside you will come to the surface, as they do in children, and that could be dangerous for all of us. There is no village of Merging Ones or adults with strong minds to control you, and I'll have to do it alone.”

“I do not have to sleep,” Etey said. “I can stay awake with an implant if necessary.”

“Your feelings may cause you to do things you could regret. If someone should find you, you could strike out without meaning to and hurt that person. I don't even want to think of the trouble you could cause.”

“I can remain calm.”

Daiya jumped to her feet, pacing in front of them, back and forth. “You are dangerous!” she cried, knowing that Etey would hear the words and feel their force as well. “You cannot come to my village.”

Etey's eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Oh, yes, I sensed that,” Daiya continued. “It is hard to catch your thoughts, for you can't project them well, but I can sense your purpose. I didn't know it before, but I see it now. You dream of contacting them, of bringing human beings together.” She stopped pacing. The calming substances were completely gone from her body. She thought of the comet and began to shake. “You were going to wait to see what I would do, then seize your chance if you could. But I won't let you. I may not be able to go back myself. Now I know you must go back to the comet right away.”

She sat down abruptly. She was overreacting and that was not going to help them. Touching Etey's mind was not like seeing into the mind of one of her own people, nor even like trying to read Reiho. The boy, after all, could not form his thoughts clearly enough to be read easily by others, and some of them were so strange, or couched in such odd symbols, that she could not even attempt to read them. But many of his feelings were not unlike her own, and he was close to her own age. She could sense his friendliness and curiosity; even now, as he worried about what might happen, he was not afraid of her.

But Etey was more alien. Her mind seemed as full of resonances as the mind of an old one, though, unlike the Merging Ones, her thoughts were hers alone. Her ideas were hard and sharp, but formed in an incomprehensible way; they were a bramble bush, and she could not tell where one branch left off and another began. Only occasionally could she grasp something familiar in them, and had she not had information conveyed to her by her brief contact with Homesmind, she doubted she would be able to read even the little she could. There was a cold intelligence at the center of the woman's mind, as if rationality and not emotion fueled her. She looked at Daiya with disinterest, curious, bearing her no ill will but apparently viewing her partly as a means to something else.

Etey said, “I do not want to leave.” Daiya, sensing her actual thoughts, knew the words were inaccurate. The woman was saying: I do not intend to leave, at least not until I have tried to speak to others of this world. “I shall, however, depart if it means danger for you, but you may be safer with us here. We can, at the very least, take you back with us if it turns out you cannot remain here.”

Daiya sighed. She thought of forcing Etey and Reiho back into the shuttle and hurling them from Earth, remembering to shield her thoughts in case the woman accidentally caught the image. It would not do any good. Etey would only return. “You might consider Reiho's welfare,” Daiya said. “You could put him in danger.”

“Do not worry about me,” Reiho answered. “If it had not been for me, you would not be in this situation. If I can help you, I must try.”

Daiya thought: If it hadn't been for you, I would probably have died during the ordeal. She was no longer so sure that would have been preferable to living. “You can help,” she said, “by leaving.”

“Can you not at least teach me a few techniques?” Etey asked. “Surely there is something I can learn that will decrease the chance of danger.”

“I don't know.” Daiya was silent for a few moments as she thought. She might be able to show Etey how to shield her thoughts. Remembering the machines, she reached out toward the mountains with a tendril, feeling some of the vast power there fill her. Again, she felt slightly intoxicated, realizing that her knowledge of those devices meant great power and strength, greater than anything she had imagined. She could tear the mountains from them, leaving the gold and crystal pillars bare in the sunlight. Homesmind had mentioned that power. It had said her knowledge could protect her.

Suddenly she felt something brush against her mind and realized it was not a stray thought of Etey's. She built a wall quickly, motioning to Etey and Reiho to be still. She rapidly constructed a mental shield around them to muffle their minds, blank out their presence, glad to have the extra power that enabled her to do it. She waited, knowing she could not hide herself, even though she could keep her knowledge and her thoughts secret; whoever it was had already sensed her. She would confront it instead of hiding. She could not hide indefinitely.

She let out a wisp of consciousness.

A mind touched her. It pushed against her wall. She kept up the barrier easily. It withdrew for a moment, then spoke.

—Daiya—It had recognized her. She approached the mind tentatively.—Daiya. We have searched, and searched again. We looked elsewhere, in case you had wandered off in madness, but now we find you again—

The thoughts seemed to be from Jowē's mind, though with the Merging Selves it was hard to be sure, especially at such a distance. Only a Merging One could send a mind so far.—-But you are not mad—Jowē went on.

—No—Daiya thought.—I am not—

—There is something different in you, we can feel it. Harel KaniDekel has told us what happened during your ordeal. We were not sure he would live when he arrived, he was so ill and feverish, but he is better now—Daiya, shoring up her wall, felt relieved to hear that.—What has happened to you?—

Daiya felt Jowē push at her wall. She drew more power and held it up.—What has happened to you?—Other Merging Selves were now speaking through Jowē.—Why couldn't we find you before? Why did you stay in the desert for all these days? Why did you not return to the village?—

—I did not know if I could—she answered.—I knew that somehow I had not passed my ordeal, and I was afraid to return—

—It was your duty to return and let us decide what to do. We cannot understand how you could remain so isolated there, without the Net, without others. You are very strong, even now we can sense your strength. You have endured something. It is your duty to return and share it. You have brought something different into the world, and we must find out about it, in case it happens again. Do you understand?—

—Yes—

—Will you return?—

—What will you do if I return?—

—That is not for you to consider—Jowē's words were angry and sharp.—We shall decide when we see you. Will you return?—

—Yes—

—We shall await you—Daiya felt Jowē withdraw. The Merging Selves were gone. A strand brushed against her, settling in her mind; the Net. She was bound to the village once more. It did not feel wispy and light this time; it tied her with heavy thick cords.

She kept her wall between her and the Net, not wanting anyone in the village even to sense the strangeness of the knowledge she held. She turned cautiously to Etey and Reiho, still shielding them mentally, drawing on the power under the mountains, wondering if there was any limit to it.

“What happened?” Etey said. “You looked as though you were in some sort of trance. There is something strange in the air, I feel it around me.” Daiya felt as though she was in segments, one part touching the Net, another part behind a wall, a third part listening to Etey.

“The village has found me. I shielded both of you, so no one knows you're here. I must go back.”

Reiho smiled. “Then you can go home,” he said, obviously relieved. “They will accept you.”

Daiya paused. “Yes,” she said at last, hoping that if they believed her, and thought she would be safe, they would leave Earth. Their thought of lingering in case she was endangered so that they could take her to the comet again was wrong. Reiho thought it to soothe his guilt; Etey used it as an excuse for her own ends. Daiya did not want to look into her own soul too closely. She might be seeking a punishment for her sins, still unable to give up all she had been taught, incapable of shaking off her training. At the same time, she knew, part of her was embracing her new power and knowledge. The village had accused her of seeking isolation; now she was separate, more knowledgeable, more powerful than others.

Etey was frowning. “Are you sure you will be safe?” she said. “How do you know that? From what I have learned of your people, I cannot believe they will take you back so easily. You might need us.”

“I don't need you. You would be in danger, and you might make things worse for me. You should be able to figure that out, Etey. You must go.”

Reiho seemed worried again. “But what if you cannot stay there? If we are near, at least we can take you with us.”

Daiya clenched her teeth. Somehow the pair believed they were invulnerable to danger, in spite of their knowledge. Between Reiho's concern and Etey's arrogant curiosity, she would never get rid of them. If she hurled them from Earth, Etey might well take it into her head to set down near the village. For a moment, she thought of planting suggestions in their minds to make them leave, but she was not skilled enough in those techniques to take the chance. She had almost killed herself simply by erasing memories, leaving only a black spot of despair and no way, without the lost knowledge, of dealing with it. She could not risk damaging their minds. With the machines to draw on, she might destroy them altogether. Having so much strength, she realized, was very tricky.