Eye of the Comet (11 page)

Lydee shook off Luret’s hand and stepped back into the road, frightened by the wild look in Silla’s brown eyes.

The Earthwoman raised her hand, pointing at Lydee. “We must take this skydweller and her friend to the field where we bury our dead and take their lives from them. Then all will see that we reject evil ways, and the wall will fall. That is why they were sent, to tempt us and test our souls.”

  — No — Harel thought. A few of the villagers had moved closer, apparently ready to carry out Silla’s wishes immediately.

Lydee turned to run; invisible hands held her. Angrily she summoned her strength, preparing to strike, then hesitated. Her mind, drawing on her energies, could hurt many people before they overpowered her, and that would only enrage others. She threw up her wall, buttressing it as it shook under the assault.

  — Stop — Harel thought, adding his power to Lydee’s. — She shames you by not fighting back — Marellon and Luret were helping her to hold up her wall, but the claws of a beast seemed to scrape against it. — Will you strike at one who refuses to fight? —

“Leave her to me, Harel.”

  — No —

  — Stop — That order came from a more powerful mind than Harel’s. Silla’s hands fluttered. The villagers backed away, looking uncertain and frightened.

Cerwen was walking down the path toward the hut. His dark face was composed, but his eyes were angry. — We have invited the girl to come among us, reserving our judgment, and you attack her. Are you going to make deceivers of us? You take too much upon yourself, Silla —

Lydee was still shielding herself, and could barely hear the old man’s thoughts. She lowered her wall; the assault had been halted.

Silla glared at the old man, biting her lip. — You were wrong to tell her to come here, Cerwen —

  — That is not for you to say, Granddaughter. The Minds have not ordered her death —

  — The Minds haven’t ordered anything. We are being tested —

  — Leave her be — Cerwen’s thoughts were weaker, as if he had withdrawn from the other Merging Selves.

“I can’t fight you now,” Silla said out loud, “but I can wait. You’ll see that I’m right.” She glanced at Lydee threateningly, then went inside her hut.

  — Go to your partner — Cerwen said to Harel. — Calm her thoughts if you can — Harel obeyed, following Silla inside.

Cerwen gazed at Lydee silently. — I am sorry for this — he said after a few moments. She could read his thoughts; sorry as he might be, he was also wondering if Silla might be right about her. The threat had not been removed, only deflected.

  — She is not evil, Cerwen — Marellon thought. — You must see that —

  — I see that she reaches out to us, and that her mind intends what she sees as good. But perhaps we have grown too separate to know evil when we see it — Cerwen turned and walked away, shielding his mind from them.

Lydee stared at her feet. — I had better go back to Daiya — The huts seemed to press in around her; she could feel those standing near her willing her to go.

  — Stay — Luret said. — Come with us to our home. No one will strike at you now —

  — I can’t —

  — You should — Marellon said. — You mustn’t show fear now. They’ll sense your weakness. You can’t hide from them in Daiya’s hut anyway —

She assented silently. Lifting her head, she faced the villagers standing behind the boy.

Marellon turned and gestured at one bony, older man. — Ede — he thought. — I’ve never known you to have violent notions — The man plucked at his shaggy beard. — And you, Kare — A blond woman hung her head. — You once asked the Merging Ones to draw Daiya back into our Net, and said it was cruel to leave her outside it. Are you going to hurt the one she’s called here? And you, Areli — A stout woman folded her arms. — Maybe the evil is in you, not in this girl —

  — You feared her yourself not long ago — the woman called Areli replied.

  — We have exchanged our thoughts, and I no longer do — He broke off at that point. Taking Lydee’s arm, he led her past the villagers as Luret followed.

This isn’t the end of it, Lydee thought to herself. Outside her thin wall, she could sense the humming of the villagers’ thoughts.

* * *

Nenla BariWil had just returned from the fields when the young people arrived at the hut; her partner Kal DeenVasen was in the yard, scattering feed to the chickens. Their hut was at the edge of the village, bordering the fields; rosebushes grew at the sides of the dwelling.

Marellon greeted his sister. Nenla smiled at Lydee as she ushered her inside, seating her on a bench at a long, wooden table. Luret sat next to her mother while Marellon began to set out food and drink.

  — You are welcome here — Nenla thought, though her smile had already said that. Her long, red hair was pulled back from her freckled face; her kindly thoughts were a warm cloak over Lydee.

Kal entered the hut, shifting his broad shoulders as if fearful of finding the entrance too narrow. He glanced at his daughter. — I see that you have visited my cousin Silla — he said.

  — Silla wouldn’t let Lydee enter her home — Luret said.

Nenla nodded as she read her daughter’s impressions of the confrontation. — It is not you she hates — she said to Lydee. — She looks within herself and fears what is there. She has one sister living apart from us, and now another who is a skydweller, and she thinks her own blood is cursed. She has no children because she believes that strain will reappear —

  — But she wants children — Lydee replied, trying not to show how repellent that idea still was to her. — She said so when I first saw her —

  — She thinks she does. But we have all been barren for a long time, each for a different reason. Some do not want to bring young ones into uncertainty, while others believe that they will bring forth only solitaries. I am Daiya’s friend and know her doubts, and have come to accept the need for changing our ways, and yet it seems Luret will be my only child —

Kal touched Nenla’s shoulder as he sat on the bench next to her, across from Lydee. — There will be time for more — he thought. Lydee stared at the tabletop, thinking that having even one child dragged out of one’s body was quite bad enough.

She tried not to grimace as the family began to eat. Luret shoved a plate at her; Lydee shook her head. — Corn cakes — the girl thought. — I know you don’t eat meat. And this is wine — She poured some into a cup.

Lydee sipped, not wanting to offend them, then nibbled at a cake. The red wine was robust and harsh; her teeth crunched against corn. Marellon was gulping his food, making sounds with his lips; he glanced at her as he was about to pick his teeth and put his hand in his lap. Luret gnawed at a chicken wing, cupping her hand as if trying to hide the repulsive sight.

  — Silla is right about one thing — Lydee said. — I haven’t been able to help you —

  — The Minds have spoken to us again — Kal thought.

  — Perhaps They would have spoken anyway. The wall still stands — Lydee paused. — When I was in the desert, I directed my mind at the wall, and it shifted. I might have torn a hole in it with help —

Nenla put down her cup. — Are you so strong? —

  — With the aid of the whole village, we might be able to tear it down together. My strength would be added to yours, and that might be enough —

Kal shook his head. — Even if we could, we wouldn’t be able to stand against all of Earth —

They finished the meal in silence. Lydee pushed her plate away, wondering if the food would make her sick; her stomach lurched. She fought the feeling with her mind, soothing herself. Kal and Nenla brushed against her with tendrils of thought; she felt their compassion.

  — You aren’t like the other villagers — she said.

  — No, we are not — She sensed some bitterness in Kal’s thoughts. His dark hair hung around his bearded face; he shook it back. — We too have fallen into separate ways. Some say we have listened to Daiya too much — He stood up and began to clear the cups and bowls from the table as Luret fetched the water bucket.

* * *

Lydee lay on a mat in the dark. In the hut’s other room, Nenla and Kal were sleeping, their dreams entwined. Occasionally a strand of thought escaped from behind their mental wall, allowing her to glimpse their minds’ embrace, a helix of jeweled bands.

Luret was asleep on a mat in one corner; Marellon was near the fireplace. Lydee stretched, trying to get comfortable. Her skin itched, and she dimly sensed the mechanical and instinctive minds of insects. She slapped at her arms and legs; now she would be infested, too.

Someone else was awake. She heard a rustling, then felt warm breath near her ear. — You’re still awake — Marellon thought.

  — I’m not used to sleeping on a mat, and my mind is restless. I think of Silla and of all that Harel said. Your emotions are strong here, and disturbing —

  — I am drawn to you, Lydee — He took her hand. — I don’t understand it. It seems my feelings have altered —

She put up her mental wall, leaving only a small opening.

  — I know that you don’t see me in the same way, and maybe you never can. You still see only a savage with a weak body and unclean habits —

She drew her hand away. — Why are you telling me this, Marellon? —

  — Because you would have seen it in me anyway. I am at the age when it’s time to choose a partner, yet I haven’t found one. Others draw away from Luret and from me because we seem unlike them. I thought that I had grown too different from others ever to feel love, and that my training with Daiya might have made me too solitary. But you’ve shown me I was wrong. I can feel love —

  — You mustn’t feel that way about me —

  — And why not? — he asked.

  — Because I can never be your partner. I can never have children as your people do, and wouldn’t even if I could. I can’t stay here, and if I did, you would grow old while I remained young. Even without help from Homesmind and the comet, I would still live much longer than you —

  — I ask nothing of you, Lydee. I only wanted to share my thoughts. It surprises me to feel this way about you —

  — About one so strange — she said, picking up his uneasiness and embarrassment. His thoughts were turned in on themselves, as if he was trying to dim the glow shining at his center.

  — Yes, you seemed strange at first. You seemed not to be human at all, and I saw you almost as a machine. Your mind was weaker then, and inside you an alien light glowed, as if another being lived there —

  — Homesmind — she thought.

  — But now I see your soul and know that it is like my own —

She suddenly wanted to reach out to him, but held back. Her strong feelings surprised her; she tried to tell herself that she was lonely and feeling only a momentary attraction. — You ask one person to cling to another until both are old and able to become Merging Selves —

  — That’s true — he replied.

  — On the Wanderer, we are always free to love many —

  — Yet you see into no one’s mind —

  — Yes —

  — And you call that love? —

She thought of Pilo and Jerod, and her longing for her old life on the comet overwhelmed her. What would those boys, and Nara and Tila, think if they could see her now, lying on a mat in dirty clothes with Earth’s food in her belly, huddling near an Earthboy and able to feel some love for such a creature?

Marellon’s wall went up. — Do you think I would choose to feel this way about you, skydweller? I’m sorry I shared my thoughts with you. Don’t worry. I won’t inflict them on you again — His mind throbbed; she had wounded him.

  — I’m sorry — she thought, knowing that would not make up for the hurt. He retreated to his own mat while she curled up and tried to sleep.

* * *

A clap of thunder awoke her. Lydee sat up, blinking. Light flashed through the hut’s openings and illuminated the doorway.

Someone screamed. Feet padded across the floor; as the lightning flashed again, she saw Kal’s broad form in the doorway.

She stood up and stumbled toward the entrance. People were running through the street toward the center of the village. Another cry pierced the air. She kept her mind closed, afraid to let the village’s panic flow into her. Kal hurried outside, followed by Nenla.

Marellon was near her. “What’s going on?” she said aloud.

  — I don’t know — She could barely hear his thoughts. — The Merging Selves are calling to us —

Lydee stumbled outside. Several people were running through the fields toward her while the watchfires they had been tending flickered in the distance. Rain came swiftly, pouring from the sky in cold, sharp needles; the wind shrieked. Lightning forked across the heavens.

Slowly, she let down part of her shield. A thousand minds babbled, — The wall! The wall! — Through the villagers’ Net, she now sensed the force field and understood why they were afraid. The wall was inside the mountain range, a day’s travel closer to them on all sides. A few minds were already struggling to push it back.

She fell against one villager and was suddenly swept forward by the crowd. She closed her mind quickly. “Marellon!” she screamed, trying to free herself from the press of bodies. Losing her balance, she tripped and fell forward, clawing at the mud as feet trod on her back. She rolled toward a hut and staggered up, uninjured.

Marellon was running to her, Luret close behind him. Wind buffeted her, pushing her against the boy; the path was littered with thatching. They followed the stream of people, slipping in the mud as the rain drenched them.

The village’s public space was lighted. Several people stood in doorways or under booths, shielding their torches from the rain. Several Merging Selves, Cerwen among them, stood on tables in the center of the mob, their faces tense with effort as they pushed against the barrier.

“It’s gone!” a man cried triumphantly. Lydee clutched at the Net with her mind and abruptly sensed the barrier again; it was now on the other side of the river and closing in around the fields; the village would be crushed inside it. “No!” the same man screamed.

“Steady your mind!” a woman shouted.