“…all right?”
Kendi tore his eyes away from the iron bar in his hand. Trish was standing above him. She wore a strap of brown cloth across her breasts and another across her loins. The outfit looked strange on her white, stick-like figure. How long had he been staring at the bar? He should have felt Trish’s presence instantly.
“Did you hear me, Kendi?” Trish said. “I asked if you were all right.”
“I’m okay.” He scrambled to his feet, bar in his hand. Where had it come from? He hadn’t called it up. Did it have something to do with the canyon or the kid?
“Mother Ara told me to watch the Dream for signs of the kid,” Trish said. “I think that thing-” she gestured at the canyon “-qualifies. Did it almost open up under your feet too?”
“Yeah. And there’s something in it that screams at you.”
“I heard.” Trish shuddered. “Is it the kid, do you think? Can you sense him?”
Kendi closed his eyes and stretched out his senses. Nothing. The ground showed no further signs of shaking, the scrubby vegetation was alive and healthy, and the tiny tickle that told him his drugs were wearing off began to itch behind his eyes.
“I don’t feel anything,” Kendi admitted.
“What’s the bar for?”
Kendi hefted the bar without answering. It didn’t belong here. It would disappear. One…two…three.
The bar remained, cool and heavy, in his hand. It was just like the bars across his cell in Kendi flung the bar away. It spun off and vanished into the distance.
“What was that about?” Trish asked.
“Nothing,” Kendi said. “Look, my drugs are wearing off. I’d better go, all right?”
Trish gave him an odd look. “Sure. I’ve got scouting to do. See you on the ship later.” And she vanished.
Kendi gathered his concentration. If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, let me leave the Dream.
His room on board the Post Script snapped into being. Kendi disentangled himself from the spear under his knee and dressed with care, wincing at his bruises and the pain in his ribs. Well, there was no reason not to use painkillers now. After a quick visit to the infirmary, Kendi felt much better and had decided to discuss the situation with someone.
“Peggy-Sue,” Kendi said, “locate Mother Ara.”
“Mother Adept Araceil is not on board the Post Script,” the computer reported.
Doing merchant stuff, he wondered, or tracking the kid with my composite? “Peggy-Sue, locate Brother Pitr.”
“Pitr Haddis is not on board the Post-Script.”
“Peggy-Sue, who is on board?”
“Benjamin Rymar, Sister Trish Haddis, and Jack Jameson are now on board.”
“Peggy-Sue, locate Ben Rymar.”
“Benjamin Rymar is on the bridge.”
Kendi headed up to the bridge. Ben wasn’t Silent and he didn’t understand the intricacies of the Dream, but Jack wasn’t someone Kendi had spent a lot of time with, and Trish was busy in the Dream.
Or you’re just looking for excuses, he thought to himself.
Ben was at the communications board. His fingers danced over the console and his soft voice muttered commands to the computer. As usual, his red hair was tousled and his purple tunic was wrinkled. The main vidscreen showed a map of the city of Ijhan. Different colored dots and a single gold star flashed on it. Ben turned as Kendi entered.
“You’re supposed to be resting, aren’t you?” Ben said.
“I can rest up here.” Kendi flung himself into the captain’s chair. “What’s going on?”
“We’re tracking the kid. Hot on the trail.”
Kendi’s stomach panged. He bolted to his feet and rushed over to Ben’s board. Without thinking, he put a hand on Ben’s shoulder and leaned over to look at the console. “And no one told me? Where are they? How long would it take me to get there?”
“They’re on up the map.” Ben’s dextrous fingers continued to move like dancing spiders. “Gretchen bugged him. And you aren’t going anywhere. Mother’s orders.”
“Neighborhood’s getting worse,” Ara’s voice said from the console. “Careful, everyone.”
Ben shifted, and Kendi suddenly became aware of the firm muscle bunching beneath his hand. He self- consciously took his hand away.
“Uh, why are you working so hard?” Kendi asked. “All you have to do is keep an eye on the transmitter.”
“And mask the signal from the Unity,” Ben said. “And keep an open link to the net. And track down-”
“I get it, I get it,” Kendi said. “Want some help?”
“It’s covered,” Ben replied absently.
Kendi nervously sank back down into the captain’s chair to watch Ben work. Ben had rolled his sleeves up, and fine red-gold hairs gleamed on his forearms. Kendi could see Ben’s collarbone, sharply defined above the wrinkled collar of his tunic. On the view screen the multi-colored dots chased the gold star over the map of Ijhan. A silence fell on the room, and Kendi didn’t try to fill it despite his churning stomach. The odds against his hopes were high, laughably so, but that didn’t stop his nerves from screaming at the thought that he might have found a part of his family again. Kendi watched the vidscreen and tried to calm his too-brittle nerves. His mouth was dry as salt.
Ben continued to work. Silence stretched across the bridge.
“Ara’s hiding something,” Kendi said, suddenly desperate to fill the quiet.
Ben looked up, a puzzled expression in his blue eyes. “Sorry?”
“Ara’s hiding something,” Kendi repeated. “I think it’s to do with the kid. I asked her, but she denied it. She lied.”
“She doesn’t lie,” Ben said stoutly. “At least, she never has to me.”
“Not to me, either. At least, not until now. It makes me angry, Ben. I’m second in command, but I don’t know all the details.”
“What am I supposed to do about it?”
Kendi leaned toward him. “Talk to her, would you? Find out what’s going on.”
“Me? What makes you think I’ll have any sway?”
“You’ve known her a little longer than I have,” Kendi replied dryly. “Please?”
Ben sighed. “I’ll try. But if she gets mad at me, I’m taking it out on you.”
The sun was setting and the neighborhood was getting worse. A trio of toughs Ara as she passed and she wished she had some sort of weapon, despite Unity law. Almost anything more powerful than a knife was strictly forbidden, and Ara had decreed pistols too risky. Now she wished she had taken the chance.
The crowd on the sidewalk was light, though battered ground cars hummed up and down the crumbling pavement. Trash littered the streets, and the people had a more haggard look. Most of the buildings were older, made of brick and mortar instead of aerogel. Many of them were cracked, and quite a few lay in ruins-victims of the Unity bombing years ago. Another time she passed a vacant lot filled with ramshackle shacks. Ragged people looked at Ara over open cooking fires. The marketplace, she realized with an odd clarity, was meant for the more affluent citizens of Irfan. This was how the majority of the population lived.
A Unity guard ground car, red and black, cruised slowly down the street. The people quietly vanished into their shacks, and Ara forced herself to keep an impassive expression as it went by. Were they looking for the boy? Ara assumed the Unity didn’t know who he was yet-they would have already snapped him up-but that could change at any moment.
Something tapped at Ara’s mind. ~Don’t worry about the guards, Mother,~ came Trish’s voice. ~I’m whispering to them. They don’t want to stop anyway, so they’re taking my advice.~
— Good work,~ Ara replied, grateful for the reassurance. Trish was very talented at whispering and knew her job well. All Silent could reach out of the Dream and contact other Silent, though many could do nothing more than alert the receiver to their presence. “Knocking,” as it was called, was a widely-accepted signal for the receiver to
