Eye of the Comet (12 page)

Lydee added her strength to the villagers’, realizing how futile their effort was. The force field was now a wall around the edge of the town, cutting them off from the river and the fields.

She pushed. The field had stopped moving, though she was sure their feeble efforts had not halted its progress. Several Merging Selves had collapsed; others lifted them from the tables and laid them on the ground, trying to revive them. They were completely enclosed inside the village.

  — We are locked here — Cerwen thought. Marellon trembled; Luret sagged against him. Lydee stood with them at the edge of the crowd, sensing their shock.

Gradually she became aware of another mind boring through the little other shield she had left. She turned. Most of the crowd was kneeling, clinging to one another for solace. Silla was standing, her shadowed eyes gazing directly at Lydee, her face yellowish-brown in the light.

“You brought this on us, skydweller.” Silla raised one arm and pointed. “You came into our village, and now the wall traps us here. I was right. You must die before we are freed.” Others stood up and moved closer to Silla.

  — You are a fool — Marellon thought rashly. — The wall surrounded us before Lydee arrived. It could not have been her doing —

Lydee held her hands out, pleading silently with Cerwen. He was wavering, looking from her to his other granddaughter.

“Cerwen!” Lydee cried. “Let me add my strength to yours, and try to break this wall.” She did not trust herself to mindspeak, afraid that her thoughts would free themselves from her and lash out at Silla.

“We can’t break the wall,” Silla responded. “We have tried.”

“Don’t you understand? We must break it somehow.” She looked at Cerwen. “Daiya and Reiho are outside the wall now. If we don’t get to them, every mind outside the wall will be able to direct its force against them.”

10

Silla lifted one hand to her mouth, then turned toward Cerwen. — They are doomed — he said. — We cannot reach them —

“Maybe we can,” Lydee replied. “If I add my strength to yours, that might give us just enough power to break through. At least we can try.”

  — How can we draw on the power we need? — one mind demanded; she recognized Brun. — Hasn’t the wall now cut us off from the mountains, the source of our power? —

Lydee frowned. “We cannot be cut off,” she said. “If we were, you would not be able to mindspeak at all.” Earth’s Minds were still helping them somehow. A more disturbing thought came to her; if the Mindcores could still reach them, then why hadn’t They broken the barrier? Why were They allowing the village to be subjected to this new threat?

Cerwen nodded, reading her thoughts. — We are asking ourselves these questions — he said. — Perhaps They have the power to open another channel to us, but cannot break the wall Themselves. I don’t know. They seem willing to let us suffer —

“I can answer your questions, skydweller,” Silla said; she had apparently touched Lydee’s mind even though she was still refusing to mindspeak. “We have been left our powers so that we may kill you more easily.”

  — Please — Lydee called out with her mind. — We must try to break the wall and find Daiya and Reiho —

“And bring another cursed skydweller here? Let him die.”

  — Daiya’s out there, too —

  — What’s Daiya to us? — one burly man was thinking. — She is not part of the Net, and has lived outside the settlement communing with herself. Let her reap the harvest of her solitary ways —

  — She’s your sister — Lydee said to Silla. — Do you care so little for her? —

“She’s probably dead,” Silla replied, but Lydee could tell that the young woman was uncertain. She directed her thoughts at the mire of guilt inside Silla; her jealousy had nearly swallowed her love for her sister, but there was still a little love left.

The rain fell more slowly, becoming a drizzle. The sky was growing lighter; a mist blurred the figures around Lydee.

Harel rose; beads of moisture gleamed on his beard and hair. — I’ll help you — he said. — I’ll try as hard as I can to help you break through the wall — He turned toward Silla. — And so will you. If you don’t I’ll leave our home and never touch your mind again —

Several people gasped at Harel’s threatened breach of custom. Silla held out a hand; her mind was raging, twisting in pain as her need for her partner contended with her fear of the skydweller.

  — We must try to open the wall — Lydee said. — All of us, for every mind will be needed, and all of your wills. If we can tear a hole in it, I’ll go outside and search for my mentor and my sister. If your God and your Mindcores will it, then I’ll die out there, and you, Silla, will have your wish —

Silla lowered her eyes.

  — Draw together — Cerwen thought. — Direct your minds at the wall. Lydee, you must go to the edge of the village, and we shall lend you our strength —

Brun and Anra were making their way through the crowd, elbowing those who were standing and stepping over the ones who were seated. — We’ll come with you — Brun said.

  — You mustn’t — Lydee protested.

  — You may need our help to shield you from harm — Anra murmured.

Brun waved a hand. — Our daughter is out there. She turned from us and brought us evil days, but she is still our child. We gave her life and will share her fate —

  — I’ll go, too — Marellon thought.

  — And I — Luret said. Kal cried out a protest; Nenla shook her head.

  — No, Luret — Marellon said. — I am older and have a little more practice in mindcraft. If anything happens to me, at least my sister will have her child —

Luret shook her head. — If you don’t come back, we’ll all die behind this wall anyway — Her mother’s arms were already around her, holding her back.

  — Go — Cerwen commanded. — Don’t waste your power in bickering. We must act now. If Daiya is still in this world, she will be draining herself of energy trying to stay alive —

* * *

Lydee ran along the muddy path toward the meadow, Marellon beside her. Anra and Brun were behind them, somehow managing to keep pace in spite of their age. Sparks danced in the air around them as the villagers gathered their strength.

They might be taking this risk for nothing; Daiya and Reiho might already be dead. Lydee suppressed her doubts, which would only blunt her ability to strike at the wall. She did not even know if a hole could be torn in the field; she tried not to think of that, either. She had to believe it was possible and remembered what she had been able to do to the wall alone in the desert.

They came to the edge of the village; her knee struck the invisible barrier. A fog hung over the meadow outside; Daiya’s hill was hidden behind nature’s misty wall. Lydee scowled; she had been hoping that they would find Daiya and Reiho near the force field, trying to find a way inside.

A hand gripped her shoulder; she glanced at Brun. Anra, the tallest among them, stood straight, staring at the wall as if she could pierce it with her eyes.

Lydee opened her mind, bracing herself against the wall with both hands. The villagers drew her into the Net; its bonds were heavy cables tying her to each mind. She pushed at the barrier, letting the power flow through her, trembling as she felt its force.

A spot began to glow around her hands. Heat seared her palms; she pulled her hands away, visualizing the atomic structures that held the field together. The wall was weakening; she summoned more power, directing it into the Net. Her link burned and her bones ached with the effort. The glowing spot grew larger.

She was at her limit and knew she had only enough strength left for one last push. Straining, she forced her mind at the wall, making a knife of her thoughts.

The wall ripped; wind slapped her face. She fell through the opening and rolled across the grass, striking a lump of dirt. The others followed, stumbling over her as she lay on the ground. She had exhausted herself; she could not move.

She threw up her mental shield quickly, sensing that her companions were doing the same. Marellon was beside her, lying on his back. She lifted her head. Anra and Brun lay face down; she was suddenly afraid the effort had been too much for them.

At last Brun moved, propping himself up on one elbow. She probed for his thoughts; he shook his head. “No, child. Don’t use your mind to speak. We must shield ourselves thoroughly so that no one knows we are outside.” She felt as though something was poised over her and imagined a hammer about to pound her into the ground. Quickly, she thrust the image from her, afraid her own thoughts would turn against her.

Marellon stirred; his strength was returning. She fed him some of her power, then lent more to Anra. The older people were badly weakened; Brun’s shield seemed thin.

“The wall has mended itself,” Brun whispered. He and Anra were cut off from the other Merging Selves and the Net. They would need some of her power, and she had little to give.

They were still alive, at least. Either the Earthfolk on this side of the wall had not yet sensed their presence or they were waiting until those who had broken through grew too tired to resist. They would have sensed a rip in their wall, she was sure, but might be too far away to notice four small, shielded minds. Lydee began to hope.

She stood up. Their shields were stronger now; if they could keep them up, no one would be able to sense their presence. Now they would have to get to the hill; they could not even search with mental strands to find out if Reiho and Daiya were still alive.

Reaching out, she helped Anra to her feet. The woman held on to her tightly and seemed about to speak, but did not. Brun leaned against Marellon.

“Are you ready?” Lydee asked. Brun nodded. “Then we must go.”

* * *

The four locked hands as they moved toward the hill. The mist surrounded them, blotting out the world. Lydee longed for sensors, afraid they might lose their way. The wet grass brushed against her trousers; her soggy clothes clung to her body.

They have to be alive, Lydee thought as her legs churned through green weeds. Reiho might have given in to his fears when he realized what was happening. Even Daiya might not have been able to save him. She walked more quickly, tugging at the hands in hers, feeling the rough calluses on both Marellon’s and Brun’s palms. Marellon shivered; the hands holding hers were cold. They could not even free their minds to warm the air; she wondered how the older couple would fare in the dampness.

“You are good to help us,” Brun said. “I had thought that you were only trying to run from Silla’s wrath, but when I touched your mind, I saw that it wasn’t so. There is caring inside you.”

She squinted. The mist was lifting a little; she could now make out the hill. She pulled at the others, wanting to run forward.

“Save your strength,” Anra said. “We must still climb the hill.”

Lydee slowed. There was still no sign of her sister or her mentor. They struggled toward the slope.

* * *

Brun was panting. Lydee had one arm around his waist, urging him on. The mist was a thin veil; the trees around Daiya’s hut were robed in gray.

Lydee let go of Brun, crying out in dismay. A tree had fallen across the roof of the hut; one of the walls had caved in. She ran to the doorway ahead of the others and peered into the darkness, afraid of what she might find.

“Reiho?” she called out. “Daiya?”

A moan answered her. She rushed inside, nearly stumbling over a mound of bricks. A light suddenly shone in her face; she threw up an arm.

“Lydee,” Reiho’s voice said. The light darted across the caved-in roof and came to rest near a pile of rubble. Reiho was holding a light wand. A beam of wood lay across his chest, pinning him to the ground; if he had been an Earthman, he would have been crushed by it. Daiya was next to him, her leg trapped under the same beam; her eyes were closed.

“You’re alive,” Lydee said. “And Daiya —”

“She’s alive, too. But we’re weak. We’ve both been shielding our thoughts all this time — Daiya said that was what we had to do. I see we’re all trapped outside the force field now.”

“We were inside it. We broke through the wall, just for an instant, just long enough to get through to you.” Her companions were in the doorway; she motioned to them. “Help me move this beam.”

“I tried to move it,” Reiho said. “I couldn’t get leverage. Be careful, or you might bring more bricks down. Just lift it a little — I can crawl out.”

Brun and Marellon braced themselves against the beam as Anra leaned over Daiya. Lydee knelt, pushing against the wood. The beam lifted with a slight creak and Reiho wriggled out from under it while Anra freed her daughter. Lydee lowered the beam slowly as dirt and thatching sprinkled them.

Daiya’s eyelids fluttered. “She’s hurt,” Reiho said. “She’s been using all her strength to shield herself. I didn’t know what was happening at first.” His voice tripped over the words. “Somehow I managed to push Daiya out of the way before —”

“Don’t waste yourself in talk,” Anra murmured. “We must get back to the village. Can you walk?”

Reiho nodded. “But I don’t think Daiya can.” He dropped to Daiya’s side, feeling her leg. “Her leg’s broken.”

“The shuttle.” Lydee ran to the door and hurried outside. The mist was fading; strands of gray gossamer were settling on the green ground. As she made her way down the slope, she peered toward the spot where the shuttle should have been. The craft could carry them to the village; she would have to hope that their enemies could not sense it if they kept a shield around themselves. She might be able to move it with her mind if the others protected her with their walls.

Where was the ship? She looked around frantically, darting to another side of the hill, then spied the shuttle’s dome. She nearly dropped her wall when she saw what had happened. The shuttle had somehow been swept toward Daiya’s garden and was tilted on one side, its runners embedded in a vegetable patch. They would have to strain to move it. She pressed a fist against her mouth.

“Lydee!” She looked up. Marellon had come outside and was standing on the hill above her. “Daiya’s failing — she can’t keep her shield up much longer. We have to go now.”

“The shuttle.” She waved her arms helplessly.

“Forget your vessel. We need all our power to help shield Daiya.”

She climbed toward him as Brun carried Daiya outside. Lydee motioned to him. “Reiho and I can carry her.” She went to her sister. Daiya sagged against her as Lydee gripped her waist, then helped Reiho lift the woman’s legs.

“Link minds,” Brun ordered. “We have to weave ourselves together now, and shield Daiya as well. If they track her mind, we are lost.”

Together, the group struggled down the hill.

* * *

Their minds were wedded. Lydee touched Brun’s stoic thoughts, sensing his grim determination; his mind was now part of her own, locked there by the links they had formed. Daiya had brought him grief, but he would not leave his daughter to die alone. Anra’s thoughts were simpler; she would do what she could, and the rest was in God’s hands. Marellon was thinking of the village, willing himself to keep up his strength long enough to get there, refusing to doubt that he would; he would prove himself to Lydee. Reiho’s energy was being drained by his fear of death as he worked to maintain their mental wall.

Daiya was barely conscious as they came to the meadow and began to cross it. Her head drooped; her long, matted hair hid her face. The arm around Lydee was flaccid, unable to grip.

The sky was lighter; the fog had nearly burned off, and Lydee began to feel conspicuous, imagining thousands of invisible observers. She buttressed her shield as she bowed her head, concentrating on her feet, thinking only of the next step she would take and then the one after that. The village seemed far away, the pressure against their shield greater. She began to count her steps, giving up when she came to thirty.

Anra patted her arm, but her eyes were on Daiya. Anra still saw the woman as a child. We’ll get you home, she was thinking, and her thoughts entwined with Lydee’s; we’ll get you home safely. Anra’s thoughts blurred at that point, becoming a series of vague images in which she, Brun, Daiya, and a young Silla sat in a hut, minds bound together again, differences forgotten. Another figure lingered at the edges of this picture, a person of wire and glass with dark eyes, and Lydee realized that was how Anra saw her.