Virginia Hamilton (4 page)

“Who be you four humans?” Duster toned. His voice was strong in its leader’s mode.

“We are friends from far past,” Justice said.

“Friends? Be what, friends? I know no past,” toned Duster.

“Friends are those who support you, come to travel with you,” Justice said. “The far past is our time frame. We come from past—was—to this that is your now.”

“Friends, nothing,” coldly Duster toned. “Was, nothing.”

He tested the atmosphere of the four. It did not give off a bad feeling, but he must make certain.

“You be some kind of Mal, then?” Duster toned.

The four looked startled. They stared long and hard at one another, but made no sound that Duster could hear. He laughed inwardly, for these had shown that they need not make sound. They could plant thinking within one another, anyone.

“You be using mindsong,” he toned at them, proud that he’d found a way to describe their private thinking.

They were startled again, and this made Duster laugh.

“That’s a good way to put it,” Justice said. “You know of the Mal by name,” she said carefully. “Mal is a friend that supports you?”

“I know the Mal,” Duster toned easily.

“The Mal came to our time frame,” she said.

“It be bringing you here?” Duster toned in a voice like flint.

“Mal tried to keep us from coming,” Justice said. “It would fight us to keep us away from here. We came anyway. We want to find a way for Slaker beings to get out of here. They want so much to go.”

Duster held himself still, alert inside. He searched their faces, then turned to his packen and Siv and Glass. He must not make a mistake now. And it was some time before he made a move. A long kind of time, facing the four, while in his mind he sorted out what was known. He had helped the four hide in his dream. Was it Mal they hid from? Probably it was they who had kept the Mal from discovering his learning mind. As far as Duster could understand, the four had done no harm.

He raised his fist above his head; he let his arm fall, pointing to the ground, and began a plainsong.

“Be going, getting out of this place,” he toned. “Getting away, knowing which way, oh, long before anyone. Oh, very small Duster being. So few of my years; never this fifteen of my years. More like eight or nine, tough Duster. Here be me and other youngens one Graylight and not knowing where be me or them the Graylight before. So many Graylights trying to know and running with youngens.”

“O Duster. O Leader!” intoned the packen.

“Be running every which way,” sang Duster.

“Be running
one which way,
come be feeling so bad. Getting me deep. Knowing be the way out and be wanting to go out, eagerly. And be running that way, me and some youngens. Sickness coming fast. So sickening, make us be backing our tracks. Be falling down. Be lying down, so sick. Never get me up.

“And the Mal be come, singing to me.
Duster will not run away?

“Be telling Mal, ‘Only try, why not be trying?’ ”

“And the Mal making me so sick, saying
Duster will never run away?

“Be singing to the Mal, if It be leaving sickness outta me, never me be run away again.

“Mal saying, ‘Then you lead youngens from sickness. All ways lead them back. No run away.’ ”

“O Duster! O Leader!” intoned the packen.

“Poor youngens,” sang Siv and Glass.

“Grims finding us,” Duster toned simply. “Olders be helping youngens. Then be throwing us away when we be a few more of our years.”

Duster’s song came to an end. Now he knelt on one knee, with the other beneath his chin and his arms wrapped around it. He stared vacantly before him. Siv and Glass stretched out on their stomachs on either side of him. They made piles of dust and thrust their hands into them. The three of them watched Justice and her brothers and Dorian Jefferson.

Their at-ease postures meant that they would trust the four completely, Justice realized. Silently she regarded them when Dorian began tracing.

So that’s how they got here,
he traced.

How?
Thomas traced back.
All we know is that one day Duster found himself here with some others, with no memory of where they’d been before. The Mal said they had to stay. So they formed a tribe. A pack.

Are they made to stay here because they’re duplicates?
Dorian traced.

Who knows?
traced Thomas.
Duster doesn’t even seem surprised that the others look just like him. Maybe it’s like when I look at Levi. It’s like looking at myself.

Then, in a quiet, respectful tone, Justice asked Duster, “When will Mal come again?”

“When Mal comes,” Duster replied.

“Mal must not know we are with Duster’s packen,” she said. She had divined that Duster would permit them to travel with his tribe. “We will hide Levi, Thomas and Dorian in a trip,” she said. “I will not be seen by you or anyone, but I will be with you.”

All of this Justice enveloped in a mist of daydreams, in case the Mal had some way of staying in contact with Duster’s mind.

Sleepily Duster followed the daydreams. Siv and Glass had the daydreams and did not wonder about them; they accepted them, knew them.

A while after, Duster got to his feet. He stretched this way and that, getting the stiffness out, for he’d knelt on one knee for some time. He pulled himself up straight in his leader’s pose. “Be making our way. Water now,” he toned.

The leggens and smooth-keep got up, ready and waiting. The packen responded, forming into trips—leader, leggens, smooth-keep. In seconds all were in position. Duster waited for the unit to arrange itself.

The three boys took up positions at the center of the packen. They slouched as low as was comfortable.

“I don’t think the Mal checks Duster’s packen every day,” Justice said, “but to be safe, stay low.”

“We could become invisible again,” Levi said.

“That would upset the packen worse than seeing you with them,” she said. “They might feel something close to them and get frightened. Then Mal would know something for sure. Stay low. I’ll ride with one of you.”

Before disappearing from sight, Justice suggested to Duster and the others that she was there with them. She mind-traced to them that they need not worry about her again.

The boys didn’t know which of them had Justice with him. And not knowing, they could keep their thoughts as simple as those of the youngens.

She made herself as small as a germ. Microscopic through the power of her will, she rode in a dust particle under the hood of Levi’s tunic.

Her mind raced with the wonder of Duster, his tribe and trip. They shouldn’t be in this place, she thought. If there’s a way out, I’ll find it. Is my purpose here to save them? I’m sensing there’s more to it, but maybe that’s the first step.

T
HE ODOR OF THE
packen surrounded them. Thomas felt just the way he did when he’d watched too much television—cranky, jumpy, overtired. He knew very well he couldn’t be trudging through the heat and dust of some awful future time and place. But he was, and with Dorian and Levi on either side of him.

With Justice hidden, Thomas realized he was now the leader of Dorian and Levi. He was the one they would depend on, and he cautioned himself to stay alert. And yet the dreamlike pace they kept, the sameness of the packen, was hypnotic. No matter where Thomas looked, he saw another Siv, another Glass and Duster. It got monotonous, but it was oddly exciting, too.

Thomas scanned the minds of the group. The Glass ones’ keenest thoughts were their trust in and protection of the leaders, Thomas discovered. Leggens ones tended toward moodiness. They were all aloof, independent and as highstrung as runners could be.

Thomas envied Duster’s position of high esteem given him by his trip and his packen and, he supposed, even by the other roamer packens. There
were
other packens. Thomas had divined that by telepathy. He could send his mind out swiftly, intercepting thoughts of packens just out of sight of this one.

Given him—or did he take it? Thomas wondered, about Duster’s position of high esteem. I bet I could beat Duster in a fair fight, he thought. You can tell he’s no fighter, if he leaves combat up to a
girl!
What’s he for, then?

Thomas felt a familiar telepathy enter his mind. It was Dorian.
Couldn’t help picking up what you were thinking. Nothing much else to do. But I figure Duster’s singing is what he can do.

Yeah,
traced Thomas,
but what good is singing in a place like Dustland?

Well, he can lead to water, too,
Dorian traced.

Yeah, Duster knows the way to water, all right,
Thomas traced. For he had divined they were headed directly for the water pool.

Soon they began to feel the moisture from the pool. It mixed with the dust in a slippery film, like oil and talc, and they were soon covered with it.

Uh-uh! Thomas thought. I haven’t got a body here. There’s nothing but my thoughts.

But he did have a body, no denying what he could see and feel. And now he looked much like any member of the packen.

Out of boredom, Thomas entered the mind of the Siv nearest him. Mind-jumping was quite different from telepathic tracing. It was like walking through the walls of a large hall full of unexpected clutter, sometimes unimaginable treasure. Wherever Thomas entered, he at once owned it and could do with it whatever he wanted. Thomas could mind-jump and control anyone except his sister, and the Sensitive Mrs. Jefferson back home, whose power was stronger than his.

Inside the Siv, Thomas felt he was looking down a dusty tunnel. The view centered narrowly on the outline of the Siv’s leader. Everywhere Thomas turned in the tunnel, there were statues and photographs of the leader.

Doesn’t this dude ever think of anything else? he wondered. Lining the tunnel was a dark coating of fear, relieved only by sudden memory flashes of running and killing, eating and sleeping. All at once Thomas felt he would smother. He got out of there fast.

Silence had fallen over the packen. Thomas could see the pool dully through the murk, fifty yards away. It was a good-sized pool, all right. He felt the cool freshness of it.

Suddenly he knew that he, Dorian and Levi had been made invisible to Duster and his tribe.

Justice must’ve done it, he decided. Yet they could still see one another and everybody but Justice.

Still being small?
Thomas traced outward, searching for her, guessing that she had become minute because he could not divine a normal-sized human being.

Right,
came the reply from Justice.
Listen, Duster and the others are forming lines to go up and drink. It would be too easy to tell that the three of you don’t belong. So you’ll stay invisible until we know everything’s okay.

You expect the Mal to come follow us?
he traced.

I don’t know what to expect,
she traced.
We should just be careful.

All right,
he agreed.
But I want to head home just as soon as we can.

Thomas, don’t start,
she traced.

What do you mean, don’t start? I got a right, and I want to go
home!

Justice closed her mind to him, leaving him seething with anger. She couldn’t take them home now. How could she, when they’d just broken the ice with Duster and his people?

Now the five smooth-keeps were in a line and moving toward the pool. Warily the leaders and the Sivs came on behind them. The pool area was clear. There were no small animals to be seen; perhaps they had been scared away by the arrival of Duster’s tribe.

The pool glinted and rushed. The packen was so entranced by it that no one saw the she-animal Miacis on the far shore. Not even Duster or his Siv and Glass. Justice watched as Miacis blinked her enormous eyes and lifted her wide, leafy ears. The orange membrane pouches, air filters, on either side of her neck swelled and pulsated as she scanned Duster and the others.

Justice was quick to shield the four from Miacis’ strong empathy before her scan reached them. Better to keep our presence from her for a while, she thought, long enough to see what Duster will do with an animal like her.

Duster must’ve come in contact with Miacis before.
Within the shield, she traced this to the others.

You want to find out if they come from the same place beyond Dustland,
Levi traced. He had been silent, for most of the journey to the pool, watchful .and thinking.

Right,
Justice answered.

They were by the pool, invisible, to one side of Duster and the packen.

“O Leader, there be water and water!” toned Glass in a piercing outcry that took the four by surprise.

Duster gave her a smile and crawled on his stomach through the line of smooth-keeps to the water. Glass held his feet as he stretched out, his chest lying in the pool. He drank, making loud sucking sounds. In between, he laughed his melodious tones. Then, timidly, other leaders came forward.

What they think the water’s gonna do, eat them?
Thomas traced.

Maybe they’re afraid of going under. How deep is it?
Dorian asked.

Must be about four feet,
Levi divined.
But even a foot or two will terrify you if you don’t know water.

The dummies haven’t even noticed Miacis,
traced Thomas. He tightened inside as he gazed at the animal. She was blind, but her extrasensory ability made her seem to see through her burning, sightless eyes.

Leaders took turns at the pool while smooth-keeps held their feet. When the Dusters had drunk their fill, the Sivs waded in. Half running, they glided out on the water and drank in great gulps. Duster’s Siv dived under, instinctively using his legs in the water. Surfacing, he moaned with pleasure. He sang, “O Duster, be under and over and all be around, clean. Wet! Try it, O Leader!”

“Never be me,” Duster sang back.

Glass ground her heel in the dust. “Hahn!” she toned in a five-scale of anger. “Leader, make Siv be out of my way,” she told Duster.

“Be waiting your turn,” Duster toned, “waiting with other smooths.”