The Gate to Futures Past (35 page)

M
Y THIGH STARTED RINGING.

As I stared down at it in confused offense, Morgan didn't hesitate, freeing the Hoveny communicator from its holster. He stabbed buttons until the ring stopped, then threw the device against a wall with such violence it broke in two. When he looked down at me, my heart wanted to stop. “Tell me!”

Before I could utter a word, he took me by the shoulders and pulled me to my feet, and I knew that dangerous expression.

I just hadn't been the one facing it before. “You know, Jason,” I said softly. “You
taste
it. The change coming.”

A sharp move of his head, side to side. Rejection, not of me, but of what instinct warned him I meant. I'd never fooled him.

I couldn't imagine trying. “I'm not from here. The Clan aren't.”

His eyes glittered. “Brightfall? Then we—”

“This reality.” I licked my lips. “Yours.”

His grip tightened. There'd be bruises. There already were, on my heart, if not flesh. “Explain.”

“I've been somewhere else. Learned the truth.” Like pulling medplas, I decided. “It turns out I'm a noncorporeal life form trapped in this body.”

My Human gave a tiny nod, lips in a grim line. Keep going, that meant. Or he humored insanity.

So long as he listened.

So long as we'd time.

“I'm not supposed be here,” I told him. “None of us, the Clan, are. We come by—by accident, entering Hoveny unborn as Aryl entered mine. We don't remember our other life. We live here, these bodies us—until we die.”

When he didn't say anything, I frowned. “I'm not making this up.”

Morgan's face lost that deadly focus. “I've seen you in the M'hir, Witchling.” His lips quirked. “It's not hard to believe that's what you really are.”

He thought he understood. That nothing had changed. I swallowed and went on. “I've learned that the Founder was one of us, with Power like mine. He made a breach into that other reality—ours—to bring its energy here. He didn't know better, Jason, but what he started caused such harm, they—the entities of that reality—had to defend themselves. That's what happened to the Concentrix. Why it stopped. Why the Hoveny almost went extinct.”

His gaze sharpened. “You believe that could happen here.”

Never slow, my Human. “Yes. When I reconnected the null-grid, I opened a new breach. Everyone's in danger until it's closed.”

“It hasn't yet,” he said grimly. “There are still lights in the building you—pulled up.”

“The breach will be closed.” Of that I'd no doubt.

“That's not all of it, chit.” His hands slipped from my shoulders to my arms. He searched my face.
What haven't you told me?

“This can't happen again. They—the entities are instinctive. They'll seek out whatever might reach them again and destroy it. They don't comprehend life as we know it. They could—they could obliterate this system.” Beneath the words, I shared my utter
conviction.
“Time's running out.”

Morgan braced himself, gave a determined nod. “So what do we—” he began, then stopped. He stared down at me.

When he spoke again, it was a horrified whisper. “What have you done?”

“What I had to,” I replied evenly. “The existence of the Clan in this reality is a threat—”

“They're your people—”

“They deserved to go home.”

His mouth worked without sound, a flood of
anguish
filling our link.
They're gone? Our friends. Our family. Without telling me—without—

I'd caused this: his pain, his loss. “I couldn't tell you. There was no time. The voices tried to keep us from getting here, from harm, but I was” beyond irony, “too strong for them. I had to do it, before it's too late. Return the Clan where they belong. Where they'll be—” Singers. Where they'll fly through space and dance with planets. “—happy,” I finished. “What's done, is done, Jason.”

<<
You saved them, my sister.
>> Rael's voice, no longer a thing of dread, but of promise.

A measure of my Human, that he straightened, his jaw working, and then bowed his head. Accepting. “Barac? Ruti.”

“They're still here.” That much, I thought with a pang, for now.

As I am, Human.
Aryl, sure and sharp.
We've work to do, and
—

The room suddenly darkened. As one, Morgan and I turned to stare out the window.

Where there'd been sky and a building was now obscured by plumes of rising dust. Lumps began striking the window. Some stuck. Mud, I realized, watching the thick stuff slide over the transparency. Harder lumps—stone.

The Great Ones. We were out of time. “It's starting,” I said, numb inside.

“We have to get to the bridge.” Morgan shook me. “Sira. We need to know what's happening!”

I'd failed. We were scattered. The world was ending—

He crushed me against him, his mouth on mine, the kiss half passion, half desperation.
Witchling.
We aren't done. Not yet!

I had to find the rest of us. Mine was the greater Power. I needed—
Aryl.

Yes. Here they are.

Our minds linked. I
reached,
finding Barac, finding Ruti, finding Degal di Sawnda'at and the others,
knowing
where to start.

And how to end this.

I concentrated . . .

. . . it wasn't a proper bridge, but this wasn't a starship. We were lucky Lemuel's guards hadn't shot us. Or unlucky, dire thought, for wasn't that a way to be done?

But the guards were preoccupied, staring, with everyone else, at a single tech, a female Hoveny with beads in her hair, hunched over a piece of apparatus. “—confirmed,” she was saying.

“What is?” Morgan demanded.

Lemuel straightened and turned. “You tell me.” Nes eyes went to me, cold and hard. “Tell me how the Sanctum in Goesen can be stripped bare from the inside. Tell me how buildings are pulled from underground like splinters, leaving the land above them to collapse.” Ne took a step toward me. “Tell me, Founder, how a moon and everyone living on it disappear, all in the blink of an eye. Was this your doing?”

A moon? It wasn't hostility. It was terror and I shared it. If the Great Ones could do this— “I was the cause,” I told ner. “What powers the null-grid is alive. It's defending itself, as it did before.”

“The Fall! It's the Fall again.”

I didn't catch who said it, busy watching comprehension fill Lemuel's face. “Can you stop it?”

“No, but I can end it. That's why I'm here.” I looked at Destin. “It's time to go home.”

Her scarred face relaxed into a smile. “Elnu's been waiting.” Sona's First Scout dropped her knives to the deck, gave a graceful bow—

And disappeared.

I turned to Teris and Degal. The latter drew himself up proudly, Signy sheltering behind him. “You're wrong, Sira, as you've been
from the start,” he declared in his Councilor's tone, eyes glazed with emotion. “Your father knew the truth. The Clan were meant to be gods. Now, we will—”

Without hesitation, I dropped Degal di Sawnda'at into the M'hir, knowing his Chosen would follow.

Let him rule his own little box.

“So that's it?” Teris' dark eyes glistened with tears. “You've intended our destruction all along, Sira Morgan. You and your Human. I've known it since you came—”

“Hush.” Her Chosen, Vael, stirred. “Have you not
heard
our little one call? We can hold her again, beloved.” He smiled at me.
What do we do?

Listen to your daughter,
I told him.
Enter the M'hir. She'll be your guide.

He nodded, taking Teris' hand in his. As the pair vanished, her despairing “Nooo!” echoed in the room.

A room full of stunned Hoveny. A legend, I'd no doubt, was in the making.

I bowed to Lemuel Dis. What could I say? What should I?

Then, I knew. “What binds us together,” for Morgan was beside me, “is the better part of us all. Mother and child. Family. Heart-kin. Love. Friendship.”

The Founder, remembering his fondness for the Oud and even the meddling Tikitik.

Rael, calling to me.

Enris, staying close to Aryl the only way he could.

Taisal, above all, who'd refused to free herself from the past, to help us now.

“Today, Director, that's saved you from extinction. Cherish it.” Without looking, I held out my hand to Morgan, felt him take it in a firm grip.
Barac's with Ruti.
“You will not see us again.”

“Wait.” Lemuel looked at my Human. “I don't pretend to understand all of this—or most—” with an exasperation that made me appreciate the Director even more, “—but I know you're not one of them. You're welcome to stay, Jason. I'll find you a place, anywhere in the system.”

They had starships—

Morgan's fingers tightened around mine. “I've made my choice.”

Not if I'd any say in it.

“Well enough.” Expression filled Lemuel's so-controlled features. It was respect. “Farewell.”

T
HEY FLINCHED from him; why, he didn't know. Ran, when they could, leaving inconveniently locked doors behind. It was maddening and Barac shouted after the Hoveny, using words you couldn't help but learn in any shipcity in the Trade Pact.

Words they wouldn't know. Even that satisfaction was missing. Everything was missing.

Everyone was gone. Almost everyone. To make things worse, it wasn't Ruti in his head now but—

<>

He cursed Kurr, too, for dying in the first place, for not staying properly dead, for haunting him now, when he'd a mission. Take the ship.

In a way, he had. At least these lower decks, now abandoned. Not what the redoubtable Human would expect, but a start.

<<
Brother, please. Let this go. Come home with your Chosen. Your daughter
—
>>

Barac slammed his forehead against a wall. Once. Again. Anything to get that foul evil thing out of his mind. He'd a duty. “A duty,” he muttered, sliding limp to the floor.

“Gods, Morgan, what's he done?” Hands touched him, lifted him.

Strength
followed, raw and familiar. “I'm on a mission,” Barac said, very clearly.

“We're done here.” And it was the Human's living voice that convinced the Clansman to open his eyes and look.

“Sira?”

She was here, and alive, which was a good thing. Dirty, but they all were.

But she was different. Older. Unsmiling.

Barac
tasted
change. He climbed to his feet with Morgan's help, then staggered, his hand going to his abused forehead. “What's going on?”

The Human did the strangest thing. Twisting a button from his shirt, he tossed it up, flickering white over white, then caught it in a fist. “Tracker,” he explained. “Can't leave my pack here to cause more trouble. Then?” He looked at Sira, his face open and vulnerable.

But she was looking at the floor and didn't see.

W
E SAT together in Barac and Ruti's pitiful cabin. I'd have 'ported us anywhere with an open sky, if I could.

Brightfall was a ruin. Better here, than that.

Morgan had his trusty pack. He took out the Hoveny artifacts and sent them into the M'hir himself, while Ruti exclaimed over Barac's bruised head and held her Chosen close.

This wasn't how—or where I'd imagined our farewell. Not that I'd imagined one at all.

Ruti's dark eyes met mine. “Sira—”

She wanted to warn me against delay. That the Great Ones didn't know mercy or patience. That no delay would make this easier.

I nodded. “You can go.”

Barac looked up. “No.”

The corner of my Human's lips quirked up. “This place you belong. It sounds perfect.”

It wasn't. It couldn't have him.

My cousin shook his head. “It's not that.” Wonder crossed his face. “Now that I'm
listening
, I can't understand why I was so afraid. This is right. For us.” The wonder left, replaced by concern. “But what about you?” A frown. “What about you both?”

Be strong,
Aryl sent.

I tried, swallowing hard. “Morgan can stay here—”

NO.
Flat and implacable.

You'll die if you follow me.

We'd come to our feet. My hair lashed my shoulders. His eyes were pits of despair.
Then I die. I won't live without you.

You'd make me live without you?
“I can't let you die.”

Morgan shook his head. “It's what happens, chit, at least to beings like me. Think what you're asking. Even if the Hoveny can sever—even if, how long would I last, half of myself, alone here?”

“I know what I'm asking.” Ruti and Barac stood. I felt Aryl's presence. Sensed their
agreement
. What we planned—was it possible? I refused to allow doubt.

I took Morgan's hand, rubbed my thumb over calluses I knew better than my own. On impulse, I pulled the bracelet from my arm and pushed it on his. “Not here,” I said, uncaring that my voice shook. “We're going to send you home.”

You're my home.

Stubborn as always. Precious as—Tears ran down my face, but I wasn't alone in that. “Do this for me, Jason. Let me go, knowing what we've had together. Let me go, knowing you'll live. Promise. As you love me.”

Unfair.

As I love you.

He coughed. Gave a pained shrug. “Should never have taught you to be a trader, chit.”

You have taught me all I've needed to know, or be.

I took Morgan in my arms and he took me. We'd no need of the Hoveny.
Aryl, a last gift, if you please.

My hair flowed around us, soft and warm. And as our hearts beat together, as our lips met, I accepted the knowledge of my great-grandmother, who'd taken this dreadful road before me, and
cut.

Through
love.
Through layers of Power and desires and dreams. Through to the bottom of what I was and we'd been.

Until I was alone . . . alone . . . ALONE.

Before the grief overwhelmed me, I stepped back.

Morgan shouldered his pack, getting ready to go. He
looked—how could he look the same? But that was good, I told myself as I bled inside. That was—

Then I saw his face.

Now!
Aryl gave it a
snap.

With that, the others poured their lives into me, holding back nothing, for this was our agreement: if we were to dissolve in the M'hir, these bodies to die?

We'd use our strength, all we had, first.

I formed the locate, looked into blue anguished eyes, and concentrated . . .

—Barac and Ruti fell away . . . going home . . .

—Aryl spun into the
darkness,
finding Enris . . .

—heedless of anything but Morgan, I spent myself. Lost, fraying apart, the final moment I had of that life . . .

—held his voice.

Forget me, Witchling.

Forget us.

Let go and
live.