'He took me when I was born,' she said. 'He raised me. He even named me. He used to be beautiful.'
She had never before lost anything, so irrevocably, that she cared about. Whatever she had lost before, she had told herself it never really mattered. Now that was impossible.
She put her fists against Jan's chest, and cried.
Chapter 12
Kiri climbed awkwardly into Mischa's niche, but this time she did not wish for a place easier to find and enter.
'Kiri,' Mischa said, relief obvious in her voice.
Kiri struggled to her feet. She glanced beyond them, to Chris. She had not wanted to see him like this. She had not really thought she would ever see him again. 'Mischa, I'm sorry—' Her voice caught and she fell silent. Mischa nodded.
'You've got to get out of here.'
'Not yet.'
'Everyone's after you. The news travels faster than I do—there was a mob in the Circle before I started inside.'
'They don't know where to find me.'
'A few of them are offworld people. They have ways we don't even know about.'
'She's right,' Jan said.
'Go ahead, then.' She turned her back on them, self-controlled again. The black plastic helmeted Chris's hair. Urgency warred with Mischa's stubbornness; Kiri was almost beyond patience.
'They're after you too,' Kiri said to Jan.
'So you said.'
'You seem very calm about it.'
Jan shrugged.
'Have you had a price on your head before?'
Despite himself, despite the situation, Jan laughed. 'A price? No.'
'Do you think they're hunting you for love of the pseudosibs? You're worth a good deal of money, so be careful around strangers.'
'I appreciate the advice.'
Mischa backed away from Chris, bumping into Jan. Chris's face was immobile and waxlike; in the blue illumination, Mischa seemed as pale.
'Mischa?'
She did not answer. Her expression was blank, her pupils contracted.
'Get her out of here,' Kiri said to Jan. 'Go as far as you can, stay as long as you can. When you have to come back, come at night and I'll try to help, at least I'll know if you're still being hunted.'
His expression changed. Kiri believed this was the first time he had really understood how serious a situation he was in. He nodded, and urged Mischa toward the fissure. Mischa moved like an automaton.
'Wait,' Kiri said. 'Have you got a light?'
Mischa seemed not to hear her, but Jan turned back. 'No.'
'Here.' She held out her flash. She wondered how he would survive in the darkness, in the underground. But for now, this was the only option.
'Kiri. ?' Mischa's voice sounded lost, childish.
'It's all right, Mischa, go ahead.'
'Not much longer.'
'Hurry up,' she snapped. 'Get her away from here.'
Jan nodded a quick thanks, accepted the flashlight, and took Mischa into the corridor.
In the blue bioluminescence, alone with Chris, Kiri missed her light immediately. Like others, she had been more careful of carrying it since the main lights' failure those few terrifying minutes. She drew the bowl closer.
Only Chris's face remained free of the plastic. Bending down awkwardly, Kiri touched his smooth, cold cheek. In all the years she had known him, his life had been strong and his living a celebration. Now, emaciated, drained, he was no more recognizable than she was to herself; in her mind she was not the pitiful creature who hobbled instead of running, who stared out at her from reflective surfaces she could not avoid. She moved her fingertips to Chris's temple, feeling for a pulse. The only sensation was of cold, as the shroud pulled the last bits of energy from his body. The plastic pushed her fingers slowly, almost imperceptibly, across his forehead. Kiri realized that Mischa had not left before her brother died. And Mischa was alive: that was some relief. But she had been affected. When Kiri was powerless, she worried more.
She pushed back the light and did not look at Chris again. She had watched such an engulfment years before, and every moment of it had repeated itself in her dreams, in her daydreams, in brief moments of inattention, again and again. Now, in order to take her memories back to more pleasant times, she had to see it once more. Though she expected and waited for the sudden liquid clicking, it startled her. The plastic sealed itself over Chris's eyes. The echoes of the end faded; Kiri's duty was finished. Chris lay shrouded in the dark, and she could do nothing more.
She left without looking back. In the tunnel, limping slowly, tiredly, back toward Center, she watched as the mob passed. Most of the people carried lights, a few carried weapons, none had supplies. Driven only by their greed, they would falter at the deep underground. Kiri did not think Mischa and Jan had too much to fear from them; she doubted that even the few offworld people would go far. But soon, the pseudosibs would come, and then the danger would be real.
The light-tubes stopped; the rough, natural tunnels continued downward, branching and narrowing as Jan's flash sought out the straightest course.
Sometimes Mischa negotiated dangerous ledges automatically; sometimes Jan had to help her along precarious distances. She did not speak, she did not react. Sometimes they were surrounded by echoes, the distorted sounds of running water, air currents. their pursuers.
But finally, they had to rest.
Jan held Mischa, urging her gently back to awareness. She looked up into his black eyes, that seemed so strange paired with his bright blond hair. His golden skin was smudged with dust and his jacket, open, was sweat- stained in large patches.
'Are you all right?'
She felt the heaviness in her limbs, and glanced past him; recognizing the place, she noticed listlessly how far into the deep underground they had come. Her eyes would not track properly. She mumbled something that even she did not understand.
'Never mind,' Jan said. 'Go back to sleep.'
Mischa sat bolt upright, crying out, caught in the midst of fragmentation. She grew aware of Jan, steady, calming, flawlessly whole. 'Dust,' she whispered.
'What?'
'Dust. It was like he turned to dust. He had nowhere to go. There's nothing left of him.' Unfamiliar tensions built up, closing her throat, blurring her vision, and she had no strength to stop them. Her face was wet.
'It hurts for a long time,' Jan said finally. 'But the pain fades.'
She held him tightly and slept.
Mischa felt herself being shaken from a deep and dreamless sleep. She did not feel tired, but lethargic, lost, and stupid.
'I think we'd better go on.'
She looked at Jan for a long time. His cheek was flushed and imprinted where he had pillowed it against his arm. The light cast shadows about him and glinted from the fine gold hairs on his chest. She blinked slowly, but the
