The Night's Dawn Trilogy (54 page)

The chameleon suit ignited. Bright white flame engulfed her completely. She felt her skin burning and screamed. The plastic
fabric melted rapidly, flaming droplets raining down out of the tree. She squirmed about, beating at herself frantically with
her arms. She fell from her perch, a tumbling fireball, flames streaming out behind her. By then she had no air left in her
lungs to scream with. She hit the ground with a dull
whoomp
, flinging out a wreath of flame. The temperature of the internecine fire increased, burning like a magnesium flare, consuming
muscles, organs, and bone alike.

The Ivets gathered round as the last flames sputtered and died. All that remained was a blackened outline of scorched earth
scattered with glowing clinker-like ashes. They crackled sharply as they cooled.

“What a waste,” Jackson Gael said.

They turned as one to look for Horst Elwes. But he had fled long ago.

Ruth Hilton and the other remaining adult villagers were grouped around the community hall in a defensive ring. The children
were all inside it. Nobody knew quite what to make of Jay’s story, but there was no disputing she had seen Quinn Dexter.

Torchlight sliced round the empty cabins and muddy paths. The wooden slat walls shone a pale grey in the beams. Those whose
rifles were equipped with nightsights were scanning the surrounding jungle.

“Christ, how much longer before the hunting party gets back?” Skyba Molvi complained. “They’ve got enough fire-power to blow
out an army of Ivets.”

“Won’t be long,” Ruth muttered tightly.

“I see him!” someone bellowed.

“What?” Ruth spun round, every nerve hotwired.

Targeting lasers stabbed out, forming bright ruby and emerald zigzag patterns in the air. A magnetic rifle trilled. A patch
of ground forty metres away bucked as the slugs hit, forming deep narrow craters, and surrounding vegetation caught light.

The firing stopped.

“Bugger; it’s a dog.”

The breath rushed out of Ruth. Her arms were trembling.

Children were shouting from the hall, demanding to know what was happening.

I should be in there with Jay, Ruth thought. Fine mother I am, letting her wander off into the jungle while I’m busy moping.
And what the hell did happen out there anyway?

Horst came ploughing out of the jungle, arms spinning madly for balance. His clothes were torn, face and hands scratched and
grazed. He saw the beams of light sweeping out from the hall, and shouted at the top of his voice.

Ruth heard someone say: “It’s that idiot priest.”

“Drunk again.”

“That bastard could have saved Carter.”

Ruth wanted to shrink up into a little ball that no one could see. She was sure everybody could smell her own guilt.

“Demons,” Horst cried as he ran towards the hall. “They’ve unleashed demons. Lord save us. Flee! Flee!”

“He is drunk.”

“It should have been him, not Carter.”

Horst staggered to a halt in front of them, his body aching so badly from the exertion he could hardly stand. He saw the disgust
and contempt in their faces, and wanted to weep. “For pity’s sake. I promise you. Quinn is out there, he killed Powel Manani.
Something happened, something came.”

There were angry murmurs from the crowd. One of them spat in Horst’s direction.

Ruth noticed her torch was dimming. She slapped it.

“Why didn’t you help Powel, priest?” someone asked.

“Ruth?” Horst begged. “Please, tell them how evil Quinn is.”

“We know.”

“Shut up, priest. We don’t need a worthless piss-artist telling us about the Ivets. If Quinn shows his face here, he’s dead.”

Ruth’s torch went out.

Alarmed gasps went up from the others as all the torches began to flicker and fade.

“Demons are coming!” Horst yelled.

Fierce orange flames shot out of one of the cabins fifty metres away from the hall; they licked along its base then raced
up the stanchions to the roof. Within thirty seconds the whole structure was ablaze. The twisting flames were ten metres high.

“Holy shit,” Ruth whispered. Nothing should burn that quickly.

“Mummy!” a child called from the hall.

“Horst, what
happened
out there?” Ruth cried.

Horst shook his head, a bubbling giggle coming from his lips. “Too late, too late. Satan’s beasts walk among us now. I told
you.”

A second cabin began to blaze.

“Get the children out of the hall,” Skyba Molvi shouted. There was a general rush for the door. Ruth hesitated, looking at
Horst imploringly. Most of the village clearing was now illuminated by erratic amber light. Shadows possessed a life of their
own, leaping about at random. A black silhouette fluttered between the cabins in the distance behind the priest.

“They’re here,” she said. Nobody was listening. “They’re here, the Ivets!” She tugged her laser rifle up. The green targeting
beam pierced the air, sending relief flooding through her. At least something bloody worked. She pulled the trigger, sending
a barrage of infrared pulses after the elusive figure.

The children swept out of the hall like a wave, some of the older ones scaling the flimsy metre-high side walls. Cries and
shouts broke out as they tried to run to their parents.

“Jay!” Ruth called.

A line of flame streaked along the roof. It was an unerringly straight line, Ruth could see the wood turning black an instant
before the actual flame shot up. Maser!

She worked out roughly where it must be firing from, and brought the laser rifle to bear. Her finger punched down on the trigger
stud.

“Mummy,” Jay called.

“Here.”

The laser rifle bleeped. Ruth ejected the drained power magazine and slammed in a fresh one.

Several other people were firing into the jungle. The neon threads of targeting lasers lashed out, chasing elusive phantoms.

There was a concerted movement away from the hall, everyone crouching low. It was pandemonium, children wailing, adults shouting.
The woven palm wall of the hall caught fire.

They could kill every one of us if they wanted to, she realized.

Jay rushed up and flung her arms round her waist. Ruth grabbed her arm. “Come on, this way.” She started towards the jetty.
Another three cabins were on fire.

She saw Horst a couple of metres away, and jerked her head in a determined gesture. He began to lumber along after them.

A scream sounded across Aberdale, a gruesome drawn-out warbling that could never have come from a human throat. It shocked
even the distraught children into silence. Targeting lasers jabbed out in reflex, spearing the gaps between the cabins.

The scream faded to a poignant desperate whimper.

“Jesus God, they’re everywhere, all around.”

“Where are the hunters? The hunters!”

There seemed to be fewer targeting lasers active now. The first burning cabin suddenly crumpled up, blowing out ephemeral
spires of brilliant sparks.

“Horst, we’ve got to get Jay away,” Ruth said urgently.

“No escape,” he mumbled. “Not for the damned. And were we ever anything but?”

“Oh, yeah? Don’t you believe it.” She began to pull Jay across the stream of people, heading towards the nearest row of cabins.
Horst lowered his head and followed.

They reached the cabins just as some kind of commotion started down by the jetty: shouting, the splash of something heavy
falling into the river. It meant nobody was paying her much attention.

“Thank Christ for that,” Ruth said. She led Jay down the gap between two cabins.

“Where are we going, Mummy?” Jay asked.

“We’ll hide out for a couple of hours until that bloody hunting party gets back. God damn Powel for stripping the village.”

“He’s beyond damnation now,” Horst said.

“Look, Horst, just what—”

Jackson Gael stepped around the end of the cabin and planted himself firmly in front of them. “Ruth. Little Jay. Father Horst.
Come to me. You are so welcome.”

“Bollocks,” Ruth snarled. She swung the laser rifle round. There was no targeting beam, even the power-level LEDs were dead.
“Shit!”

Jackson Gael took a step towards them. “There is no death any more, Ruth,” he said. “There will never be death again.”

Ruth thrust Jay towards Horst. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done. “Get her out of here, Horst, get her away.”

“Trust me, Ruth, you will not die.” Jackson Gael held out his hand. “Come.”

“Screw you.” She dropped the useless laser rifle, standing between him and Jay.

“There is no sanctuary,” Horst mumbled. “Not on this cursed planet.”

“Mummy!” Jay wailed.

“Horst, just for once in your fucking pitiful life do something right; take my daughter and get her out of here. This bastard
isn’t getting past me.”

“I—”

“Do it!”

“God bless you, Ruth.” He started to pull a struggling Jay back the way they had come.

“Mummy, please!” she shrieked.

“Go with Horst. I love you.” She drew her Bowie knife from its belt scabbard. Good solid dependable steel.

Jackson Gael grinned. Ruth could have sworn she saw fangs.

Ione Saldana stood in front of the tube carriage’s door, urging it to open.

I can’t make it go any faster,
Tranquillity grumbled as the backwash of emotion dissipated through the affinity bond.

I know. I’m not blaming you.
She clenched her fists, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The carriage started to slow, and she reached up
to hold one of the hand hoops. The memory of Joshua flashed into her mind—she’d never be able to use the carriages without
thinking of him again. She smiled.

There was a frisson of disparagement from Tranquillity sounding in her mind.

Jealous,
she teased.

Hardly,
came the piqued reply.

The carriage door slid open. Ione stepped out on the deserted platform and raced up the stairs, her serjeant bodyguard clumping
along behind.

It was a southern endcap cove station, a couple of kilometres away from the Laymil research project campus. The cove was six
hundred metres long, a gentle crescent with fine gold-white sands and several outcrops of granite boulders. A rank of ageing
coconut trees followed the beach’s curve; several had keeled over, pulling up large clods of sand and roots, and three had
snapped off halfway up the trunk, adding to the vaguely wild look of the place. At the centre of the cove, sixty metres out
from the shore, there was a tiny island with a few tall palm trees, providing an appealing nook for the more enthusiastic
swimmers. A shingly bluff planted with coarse reeds rose up from the rear of the sands, blending into the first and widest
of the endcap’s terraces.

Six low polyp domes, forty metres in diameter, broke the expanse of grass and silk oak trees behind the bluff, giving the
impression of being partially buried. They were the Kiint residences, grown specifically for the eight big xenocs who participated
in the Laymil project.

Their involvement had been quite a coup for Michael Sal-dana. Even though they didn’t build ZTT starships (they claimed their
psychology meant they had no real interest in space travel), the Kiint remained the most technologically advanced race in
the Confederation. Up until Michael’s invitation was accepted they had refrained from any joint scientific enterprise with
other Confederation members. However, Michael succeeded where countless others had failed, in presenting them with a peaceful
challenge which would tax even their capabilities. Their intellect, along with the instrumentation they provided, would inevitably
speed up the research. And of course their presence had helped to bolster Tranquillity’s kudos in the difficult early days.

Eight was the largest number of Kiint resident on a human world or habitat outside the Confederation capital, Avon. Something
else which had given Michael a considerable degree of underhand satisfaction—Kulu only rated the customary pair as ambassadors.

Inside Tranquillity the Kiint were as insular as they were in the Confederation at large. Although cordial with their fellow
project staff members, they did not socialize with any of the habitat’s population, and Tranquillity guarded their physical
privacy quite rigorously. Even Ione had only had a few formal meetings with them, where both sides stuck to smalltalk pleasantries.
It was just as bad as having to “receive” all those national ambassadors. The hours she’d spent with those semi-senile bores…

Ione had never been out to the Kiint buildings before, and probably never would have. But this occasion justified it, she
felt, even if they were upset with her breach of etiquette.

She stood on the top of the bluff, and looked down at the bulky white xenocs bathing in the shallows. From her vantage point
she could see a lot of splashing going on.

Thirty metres away, there was a wide path of crumbling soil leading to the sands. She started down.

How do they get to the project campus every day?
she asked, suddenly curious.

They walk. Only humans demand mechanized transport to move from one room to another.

My, but we are touchy this morning.

I would point out that guaranteed seclusion was part of the original agreement between the Kiint and your grandfather.

Yes, yes,
she said impatiently. She reached the bottom of the path, and took her sandals off to walk across the sand. The towelling
robe she wore over her bikini flapped loosely.

There were three Kiint in the water, Nang and Lieria, a pair who worked in the Laymil project Physiology Division, and a baby.
Tranquillity had reported its appearance as soon as Ione woke up that morning, although the personality refused to show her
its own memory of the birth, which had come sometime in the night.
Would you like recordings of your labour pains shown to xenocs simply because they were morbidly curious?
it asked sternly.