Ashes and Rain: Sequel to Khe (The Ahsenthe Cycle Book 2) Page 12

  Jonton nodded. “Yes. We have identified the same problems. But a council is not the answer. A council is too many voices, each with her,” Jonton’s eyebrow ridges rose slightly, “or his own needs and desires. Kler doumanas want what’s best for the kler. Commune doumanas want what’s best for their particular commune.” She glanced at Azlii, but made no mention of what corentans might want. “A council sounds good, noble even, but it simply won’t work.”

  The greenish-orange of amazement and the red-purple of amusement blushed lightly on Azlii’s neck. Only a corentan, I thought, would be amused at such a pointed slight.

  “Seems to me,” Azlii said, “that you can’t know what will or won’t work without trying it. You’re an orindle. Your life is dedicated to experimentation, to discovering the truth through testing. It’s not very orindle-like to make a pronouncement that’s nothing more than a guess.”

  Jonton glared at Azlii. “The corentan reputation for plain speech is well-deserved, I see.”

  Azlii’s smile was both amused and cold. “Oh, corentans can talk pretty when we want to. This just doesn’t seem like the moment.” She leaned forward. “The situation is serious. A solution has to be found quickly or we’re all — kler, commune, and corenta — going to find ourselves with bigger problems than heavy rain and a planet that has taken to sudden shaking.”

  “Yes,” Jonton said, carefully setting her cup on the low table. “And we have found that solution. Not based on a guess, but on well-reasoned ideas and local testing. We gave Larta a try, put her in charge of all of Chimbalay, only to discover she lacked a hand strong enough to hold the guide stick.”

  Larta’s neck erupted in a mass of brown-black spots — likely both at the idea that the orindles had put her in charge, and the accusation that she hadn’t done her job well — but her face stayed calm.

  “There is only one group strong enough to set our world back on the right path,” Jonton said, “and that is the orindles. For exactly the reasons you said, Azlii.”

  She rolled Azlii’s name so that it sounded like a hiss. The dark-yellow-green of surprise lit on two of Larta’s spots. I was sure she purposely hadn’t mentioned Azlii’s name. No colors showed on Jonton’s throat — she was a trained orindle, after all — but my lumani eyes saw how the orange-red of anticipation and the dark-gray-purple of frustration swirled through her.

  “Because,” Jonton said, “only orindles are trained to observe and experiment and choose the best practices. Without us in charge, chaos will destroy our world.” Her voice softened. “We hope, very much hope, that you see the wisdom of this and will join us as Seconds, helping to have our orders fulfilled.”

  “That doesn’t seem the best use of any guardian’s time,” Larta said evenly. No spots were lit on her neck now.

  Jonton means you, too, I sent to Azlii. For you to get Kelroosh and the other corentas to take the orindle’s orders.

  Unlikely, Azlii sent back.

  Jonton shrugged. She nodded to her helper, who stepped forward and refilled our cups. Jonton and my sisters lifted their cups and drank. I took a tiny sip, to stay in harmony with Azlii, Larta, and Nez.

  “That’s quite sad and unfortunate,” Jonton said, setting her cup back on the table. “I had hoped you would see that not only is our scheme the best way, it is the only way. You will stay as our guests, so we can discuss this further.”

  “That’s not possible,” Larta said. “We all have work to do.”

  She pulled herself to her feet, wavered, and then collapsed.

  Thirteen

  I jumped up from the long chair and sank down on my heels next to Larta, my fingers moving softly but quickly over her emotion spots. They were warm, but not right somehow. Nez moaned, and then collapsed on the floor beside the guardian. My gaze shot up to Azlii. She pulled her spine straight a moment, her eyes wide, and put a hand to her head before falling off the long chair and thudding on the floor. I glanced at Jonton, who hadn’t moved from her seat, her muck-colored eyes focused on me, her hands folded in her lap.

  Drugged. It must have been in the drink, and hadn’t affected me because I’d had only the tiniest swallow. Jonton, too, must have sipped. I remembered now how the rim of the cup had barely touched her mouth. Jonton kept her eyes on me, her head tilting slightly as if in an unasked question: why hadn’t I fallen over, too? I mimicked Azlii, widening my eyes and putting my hands to my head before shutting my eyes and falling over next to my sisters.

  “You know where to take them,” Jonton said.

  I kept my eyes closed and heard the soft scrape of feet moving, wheels rolling across the redstone floor, and low grunts. The sound of something being dropped and landing hard. The low, hollow ring of struck metal. Rough hands grabbed me under my armpits and held my feet, lifted me into the air and swung my body slightly upwards — then a small fall, and the feel of something cold and hard beneath my back. The sound of wheels again, and the sense of movement. Then a soft whoosh that I thought must be the door irising opening.

  I let my head loll to the side and took a chance, cracking open my eyes just wide enough to see, and glimpsed Nez’s hand, her limp arm draped over the side of a rolling cart, and a wall painted the pale-yellow-blue of acceptance. We came to a stop. Another door irised open. First Nez, then Azlii, and finally Larta were wheeled past, through the opened door. I closed my eyes again, in fear that someone would see me looking.

  “Where does she go?” a voice near my feet said.

  “To Hope,” a different voice answered. “Research Center Three. Through the passageway, not the street.”

  I felt the cart I lay on back up slightly and then turn, as I was wheeled in a different direction than my sisters had been taken. We came to what must have been a ramp; I could feel that we were going down. At the bottom of the ramp, the helphand grunted as she turned the cart and started in a new direction.

  I hazarded another look, barely slitting open my eyes. The hallway seemed long. Light globes glowed overhead, which meant we were probably below street level. The walls and ceiling were painted orange-red. I wanted to turn my head, get a better look at where we were, but I couldn’t chance it. I closed my eyes again.

  We continued down the long, flat hall, and then must have come to another ramp. The helphand began breathing hard. I guessed we were going up — likely as far up as we’d come down. There was a whoosh, and I felt a slight bump. We came to a stop. I wanted to look, but was afraid to until I heard steps leading away, and then another whoosh. I braved a quick glance that showed me the door was closing.

  “It’s all right, Khe. You can stop pretending now.”

  I knew Pradat’s voice. I trusted she wouldn’t have said that unless it was true.

  I opened my eyes and sat up.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, my gaze darting around the small room, the walls painted greenish-blue, the color of hope, and no one in it but Pradat and me.

  Before she could answer, the door irised open again and Jonton walked in.

  “Good,” Jonton said to Pradat, “you’ve brought her out of it quickly. She’s different from the others, isn’t she?”

  Pradat shrugged. “The lumani changed her, but we don’t know exactly how or how much.”

  “Her emotion spots don’t light,” Jonton said, “or at least, didn’t during our meeting. Maybe she has no emotions left. Or doesn’t really care about things she claims to.” She dusted her hands against her thighs. “Well, that may be something to explore in later days. For now — ” she bent slightly to bring her face near to mine, “ — how are you feeling, Khe?”

  “A bit dazed,” I said honestly. “I don’t understand why you’ve done this?”

  “To talk to you alone. I have a feeling about you. I think, had things been different, you would have made a fine orindle. You like to know things, don’t you? The how and why of it? The way things work?”

  “Most doumanas want to know that,” I said.

  “Yes, some do. Bu
t not with the same burn and desire you feel.” She leaned over and took my left arm, turning it so the dots on my wrist showed plainly. “You’re running out of time. Commemoration Day will be here soon, but unfortunately, you won’t. Unless…”

  “Jonton knows about the treatments,” Pradat said.

  It seemed Jonton knew about a lot of things.

  “Pradat is brilliant,” she said. “I’ve no doubt that the treatments she’s devised will save you. Sadly, Pradat’s work here is so important that she will no longer be allowed to treat you in the corenta. You would have to be here, in Chimbalay, an easy thing to arrange. You could stay with Larta in Justice House, as you have been since you arrived. Pradat would continue the treatments. You would live a long, cheerful life.”

  “And in return?”

  Jonton shrugged. “You have influence over Larta and Azlii. I know you can help them see the obvious truth of why the orindles should be in charge, not only in Chimbalay, but throughout our world.”

  “Larta and Azlii aren’t easily swayed.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jonton wanted more than she said.

  The orindle shifted her dark eyes to Pradat. “You haven’t brought your equipment? Khe needs another treatment today or she’ll slip back from the good you’ve done her.”

  “I have everything set up in another room,” Pradat said.

  Jonton turned back to me. “Pradat truly is brilliant. It would be a shame for her to fail to help persuade you on this matter. That’s part of her work, too — persuasion. And if she fails… shunning is such an unpleasant fate.”

  I held my breath, thinking Jonton was little different from the lumani — from Weast — both promising me life in return for doing what they desired. At least Weast never threatened one of my sisters with shunning if I didn’t do its bidding.

  “Where are my sisters? Are they well?”

  “Quite well. Here, in the research center, recovering from their sudden sleep. They’ll be on their way soon.”

  “That’s good. I’m sure as soon as they are recovered you will send them back to Justice House.”

  I looked at the dots on my wrist and swallowed hard. Everything came down to time — minutes, hours, and days — to learn the orindle’s weaknesses, to devise a plan, to live. “I suppose Pradat and I should get on with the treatments.”

  The moment Jonton left, Pradat touched her finger to my lips, in sign we shouldn’t speak. Her warning wasn’t needed — I’d already reasoned that no spoken words were safe from being overheard in this place — but it was good to know that she was aware and worried too. It was another sign that she and I were still on the same side.

  Azlii, I sent, as Pradat and I walked toward the treatment room.

  No reply.

  Azlii. Can you hear me?

  Still silence.

  And then, a small sound, like many birds calling and squawking at once. I couldn’t catch what direction the sound came from — it seemed to exist only in my earholes. I scrubbed at them with the palms of my hands.

  Khe, I heard softly inside my head — Azlii’s voice.

  Where are you? I sent. But no response came back.

  Azlii, I sent again, watching the thought grains hang in the air a moment before they disappeared beyond the hallway wall. Still no answer.

  “Turn here,” Pradat said when we came to a split in the hallway. “The treatment room is just there.” She pointed to a door painted the pink of nurturing.

  We’re at the treatment room, I sent, hoping Azlii could hear me, even if I couldn’t hear her.

  The pink door irised open as we neared it. I didn’t know if Pradat had done something to activate it, or if there was some kind of eye that saw us coming.

  My mind was spinning with worries for Nez, Azlii, and Larta. Jonton said they were awake and well, but I didn’t trust most of what Jonton said. Still, maybe they had left Research Center Three and were too far away for my thoughts to reach. I didn’t know how far away think-talk could be heard. Azlii could send all the way from Chimbalay’s center to Kelroosh on the plain beyond the gates, but my ability didn’t seem to be as strong as hers.

  The equipment in the treatment room was much like what she’d brought to Kelroosh, plus a few things more. The chair here was raised high off the ground and had a sort of hard pillow above the back for my head to rest against. I wished the chair were lower. I always felt better with my feet on the ground.

  Pradat had her back to me, bent over a table, busy with her preparations. There was one window in the room and I turned my head to look out. The day was still dark outside. A soft rain was falling.

  Azlii! I sent, and received only silence for my efforts.

  Pradat looked over her shoulder at me. “Nervous?”

  I drummed my fingers on my thigh. “My sisters must be nearly back at Justice House by now, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps,” Pradat said. “Though Jonton may have decided to offer them hospitality here, despite what she told you, the better to convince them of the wisdom of her plan.”

  “I thought that was my task.”

  “It’s the task of every doumana to do what is best for her sisters,” Pradat said as she walked over to where I was seated. She lifted my arm, peered at my age spots and frowned. “I had hoped they would have at least begun to fade, if not to disappear.”

  My neck felt hot. “The treatments aren’t working?”

  Pradat shrugged. “How have you been feeling? Still tired?”

  “Not as much as I was. Not since the last treatment.”

  “Something is working then,” Pradat said as she fixed a tube under my skin. “This is a different infusion. You know I’ve been working with the babblers — not that you are a babbler, Khe, nor that I see any danger of you becoming one — but we are learning a lot from them. A side effect of a new treatment has been an increase in their energy fields. We don’t know what that will mean in the long run, but for you we want the opposite. The lumani sped your natural energy. I want to slow it. This infusion is the antidote to the mild poison speeding the energy of the babblers.”

  I listened but it didn’t matter to me what technique she was trying. My thoughts were on Azlii, Larta, and Nez. And Marnka, who’d saved my life in the wilderness.

  I looked up at Pradat. “Is Marnka among the babblers you’re treating?”

  Pradat pressed her lips together. “No. If she is still alive, she’s likely in the wilderness.”

  I heard the bird noises in my earholes again. A tremble raced across my shoulders. Why was I hearing things?

  Pradat peered into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  I licked my lips. “Nothing. Just worried about the treatments. If they’ll work.” I swallowed hard. “I wonder how they will change me. Change me more, I mean. I’m already different.”

  “You don’t seem different to me,” Pradat said in that noncommittal voice that made me want to scream. “Not in the core.”

  “But I am,” I said. “You said yourself my energy field is sped up. Things are happening to me. I hear sounds that aren’t there. I see things my sisters don’t. My spots don’t light any more. If I’m not a doumana, what am I?”

  “You are Khe. Why do you need to be anything else?”

  Because all I ever wanted was to be like my sisters. I had new sisters now, but I wasn’t like them any more than I was like the doumanas at Lunge.

  The birdcalls sounded again, louder this time. I put my hands over my earholes, trying to make it stop.

  I heard Azlii’s voice in my head, think-talking to me. We’re on the move. Me, Larta, and Nez. I don’t know where the orindles are taking us. They said to the door, but this walk is too long to be leading outside. We seem to be going down. Maybe to lower rooms?

  Can you get away from the orindles? I sent. Find your own way out?

  There are too many of them.

  I wanted to ask Pradat if she knew about rooms below ground, but I was afraid to speak. The walls seem to know
how to listen and repeat in this place, and I’d already said too much.

  The door irised open and Jonton, accompanied by two helphands in yellow hipwraps, strode in.

  Fourteen

  “Have you finished with her?” Jonton asked Pradat.

  Jonton stood not even a hand’s breadth away and yet, for her, I was barely there, no more important than a beaker simmering above a flame. But Khe — the idea of me — that mattered to her.

  The brown-yellow of annoyance showed on two of Pradat’s spots. Purposely, it must have been, since Pradat was adept at hiding her emotions. Now it suited her to let them show.

  Jonton put a smile on her lips. “These things can’t be rushed, can they? Take the time you need.”

  “You may want to wait outside,” Pradat said. “It will be a while still.”

  “I’d like to observe,” Jonton said. “I so rarely get to see you at your work. And certainly it will be educational for the helphands.”

  I glanced at the two yellow-clad helphands who stood on either side of the door, like sentries. Their gazes flicked between Jonton and me. A shiver of nerves shot up my breastbone. I didn’t want to be on display.

  “Not much to see,” Pradat said, fiddling with some dials and then consulting the instrument she wore strapped to her palm.

  “Nevertheless,” Jonton said, “we will remain.”

  Frustration rumbled through me that I couldn’t think-talk to Pradat. She had something going on in her mind — I was sure of that — but I had no way to ask her. All I could do was sit quietly while fluids pumped into my body and pinpointed lights heated the back of my neck and a tiny spot low on my forehead. I wanted to jump off the chair. I needed my feet on the floor at least.