Chapter 40

40.

         On the bed she lay curled in a ball, trying to contort herself into the smallest possible space. The curtains were drawn, the room settling into a grey dimness, attempting to mimic a timeless twilight. It was an unsuccessful fight. The room reeked of stagnation, of failure, of decay. The clock was winding down, leaving behind pieces of once useful gears as it went. But even if the clock fell apart, time marched on. No instrument created yet could stop the crawl. And if it had to drag you along with it, it did. Without remorse and without care. Broken or not, you were coming.
         There was a smell of death lying underneath the surface of the room, above the floor but below the visible. On the bed she didn’t move, her arms wrapped around her head. The sheets underneath her were dry and dark, as if stained. In the dark it was hard to tell for certain.
         Once in a while she whimpered, as if calling for someone.
         A young woman standing nearby came over softly, touching her gently, moving aside some of her clothing.
         “Oh, it’s soaking through again,” the young woman said, not sounding startled at all. Concern coated her voice. Perhaps she meant it. These things weren’t necessarily obvious. Her fingers, narrow and nimble, probed the shoulder. “You have to let me change the bandages, or else it’s going to get-“
         With a soft noise not unlike a rotten fruit bursting, she twisted away from the young woman. A second later the young woman staggered backwards, thrust away by a force that wasn’t there. She didn’t regain her balance until she hit the wall and once she did, she stayed there, unmoving.
         On the bed, she lay curled in a ball, trying to become even smaller, trying to escape the pain. But it only needed a pinprick to grab hold. And once it did, there was no dislodging it.
         Somewhere deep inside herself, the woman on the bed made a sound that might have been crying. There was no telling for certain.
         From the doorway, the old woman watched for another minute and then turned and shuffled away.

* * * * *

         “It’s a fine night, is it not, my friend?”
         “Indeed. Very quiet. Everyone must have gone to bed and the sentries are spread out far and wide. If we were to let ourselves be lulled by the fire, we could pretend we were the only people for miles around.”
         “Ah, a tempting thought these days, eh? What I wouldn’t give to be able to forget these vicious rumors and act like what I know is all there really is for the world. To do away with these hidden aspects, these things beyond mortal sight.”
         “But you believe in it, don’t you?”
         “I do. But that does mean I have to like its existence. Life becomes much easier when you realize the unpleasant things all around us do not care whether we choose to accept them or not. Acceptance may not prolong your life but at least it gives you a little more peace of mind.”
         “That is something in short supply these days.”
         “I agree. I find it even plagues my sleep, these days. I keep having these dreams . . . no, I won’t burden you with them. Your own mind is troubled, I see. Is that what brings you out tonight?”
         “Mm. In a way. I couldn’t sleep either, I didn’t . . . ah, damnation. I do not understand her anymore. She’s becoming a different person to me.”          
         “Still? I’m sorry. I remembering you mentioning it once, of your quarrels but . . .”
         “We do not even fight anymore, we . . . she talks and I . . . I can only listen . . . she speaks as if she has been selected for something of great importance but when I ask her of it . . . she cannot say.”
         “She has been infected. With destiny, one might say.”
         “It’s Mandras. The fool has her convinced that she can change everything. He speaks of nothing, only ruin. Her ruin. I cannot sit by and let her march so boldly to her doom.”
         “True, but you must admit, the cause itself is just, even if the man heading it is less than ideal.”
         “So what? Why her, then? Why must it be her? If everyone is to be equal now, let another make the sacrifice, if need be. He is only satisfying his own ego. In a land of equals, he wishes to be more. It’s not right.”
         “It will work out. In time. You’ll see. Nothing has been decided yet, I assume?”
         “No . . . no, nothing yet. She only talks in the hypothetical, of the great things she might accomplish. But . . . she is not there tonight and this is not the first time. I wish there was some way I could make her stay but . . .”
         “But you know you can’t, anymore than I could make you stay, my friend. Besides, you worry too much. Perhaps the thing that she must do is nothing major at all.”
         “I do not think so. I think . . . I believe that one day I will see her leave and never . . . no, I will not even see her leave. She will just be gone and I will never see her again.”
         “Then perhaps that is how it must be. The more we fight with destiny, the more it fights back. You know this to be true.”
         “I do . . . I do but I wonder, I . . . no, you’re right, this is merely whining. I am tired and sometimes my weariness blinds me. These rants are meaningless, pay them no mind.”
         “Nothing is meaningless, not anymore. Haven’t you been paying attention?”
         “I wonder if I have. Truly. No . . . excuse my brooding. It soils a night such as this. The stars are so clear tonight, are they not? Like one could travel into them forever.”
         “Yes. And perhaps one day, we can. Or maybe our descendants. Only time can tell.”
         “I look at the stars like this, and I realize how crowded this Universe really is . . . the daytime, the sunlight, it hides all this. It’s deceiving, it can make you think . . .”
         “Yes?”
         “. . . think that you’re the only person in the world. That what you see is all there is. But it’s not.”
         “Are you all right, my friend?”
         “I want to see it. But I can’t. It’s too bright. I find myself struck blind.”
         “Eventually, you’ll see. You just need to adjust.”
         “Eh. She already has, I suspect. Adjusted and moved past. She will leave me one day, soon. Leave all of us, I think and move forward. I know this now. I’ve lost her. Even if neither of us realize it yet, I have lost her.”
         “Then you will. As I said, some things happen regardless of whether you wish to accept it or not. This is one of those things. Better to accept and move on.”
         “I suppose . . .”
         “Cheer up, no one has died yet. The grand unity of purpose is preparing to be laid out before us. We are tucked in the coils of history, watching it unwind. This may be our last quiet moment for all you know. Tomorrow everything might change. Come now, this night is beautiful and what better way to experience it than by conversing by this pleasant fire? Remember this, she may leave, but your friends will not. That will always be true.”
         “I . . . yes, I believe you’re right. Yes.”
         “Or, at the very least, you will have me, eh?”
         “I hope so. At the very least.”

* * * * *

         “By all the gods . . . it, I remember that. I . . . I remember it. So it’s true, then. It’s true.”

* * * * *

         This is how it will go.
         Just ahead now. Saw him, saw him walking down the street, with his liquid steps and unassuming manner. But he doesn’t belong. That’s obvious, that much is clear. Recognized him immediately and followed because that was what had to be done. He never saw you, of course, because you’re like the shadows, stealthy, silent. You fit in, you’re no stranger here. Every eye that sees you, doesn’t see anything at all. And he, he might as well be glowing.
         He’s walking and he’s looking but you don’t know what he’s walking and looking for. It doesn’t matter, really. It’s not you. He’ll never find you. Even if he turned around, what would he see? You all look the same to him, no doubt, because you’re all from here, rooted to this place, you’ve taken on the aspects, all the colors, all the flavors. One is the same. One is one. One is all. We see you see not. And so there’s nothing more.
         Aimless he travels. You’ll have to kill him, of course. The deepening night lengthens his shadow, darkens it. It can’t touch you. Disappear, no he won’t. Can’t hide around the corners and there’s no underground anymore. Fallen like the tiny birds, all rotted and parched. The first time, it seized your head and you wanted to cry. No more though. Not when there’s work. Not when there’s time.
         But where to lead him? Even from behind, the line reels him in. This place is a mind and you’re all thoughts traveling along well worn nerves, tracing your synaptic messages in the dirt, carving new memories in the stone. But even the brain has traps. Even the brain has dead ends. Bacteria will not be tolerated. You see that. With your eyes, you see. Can you hear him? His feet are soundless things, not a rasp upon the soil. If you close your eyes he’d be gone. So don’t blink. Ignore the burning. Don’t blink. Even out of focus, don’t let him go. A second’s respite and he’ll slit the air and step right through.
         Leading him. You’re doing it. Toward the alleys and the dead places, he’ll go. Then he’s yours. Can’t let him progress. It’s getting darker out. Now. It hurts to see. Now. But you’ll go. Every beat takes you closer. Takes him further. He’s down now, turning away. Fast as frozen water, sliding down a wall. Leaving no trace. But you don’t need traces, all that’s required is contact. A single touch and you’ll have him.
         Through the cloying night air, he goes. Almost. Dew soaks your breath, hovering in invisible drops, waiting for morning before it can appear. He disturbs no passage. Even motionless he makes you look clumsy. Hands sweating, you wonder how his death will come. Quietly. Maybe. This night is blanketed by silence, a snowfall of dread intent. He’ll drown in this, submerged by you. The wind caresses your face, egging you on. Yes. This is how it will go down. With your eyes you’ll murder him. With your hands you’ll show him death. And with your ears, you’ll know. This textured landscape hides nothing.
         Down the alley. He is. Follow. Follow. Every muscle tense, for this is it. This stranger will infect no more. He won’t see. The darkness is a sheath, but a blade does not lose its sharpness even when cloaked. A short, swift stab. That will do. A second would be better. Be more sure. Two, then. Two short stabs. But why not three, to be certain. In the gut, where the blood resides? Or the throat, to cut off the brain? Or the chest, where life lurks. A rattle in his throat would say it all. End it all. Moments now. Seconds, even.
         Creeping into the alley now. His rapier of a form is ahead. Or. Is it? The shadows, they play such tricks. These eyes are burning. Going out of focus. Watery. Dry and watery. Where is he? To the end of the row. It just ends. And no one. No one there. Where? How? There is no one. One entrance one exit and they are the same. The night spirals, uniform. Nothing to see. Where? Touch the stone, find a secret. But no. But nothing. Knuckles against sandpaper rock. Where? Search the eyes. A nerve cannot be lost. Where? Distortion in the membrane. Distortion.
         Ears hear the scuff. Too late, it’s what he wants. Gathering attention. Too late. Too late. Dark whirls, spins and he’s there. Can’t see his eyes, his face. Short, sharp. Do it. Now. He’s already moving, oh the motion is so slow. Faster than thought, it takes too long to travel. It’s already out, in his hand. No pity to be found. You see now. With more than eyes.
         Red cuts the air. Raindrops strike the ground, wet with gravity. Don’t take your eyes off of him. It doesn’t hurt at all. Time to keep moving. Forward. Short. Sharp. Steps. Just one cut. In the right place, it’s all. Red cuts again. He steps aside, giving you the opening. Perfect. Perfect. Now. Do it now. But the ground is rising. Coming up to kiss you. Everything feels so wet. Why are you here? Down. Why?
         There’s only time to look up. To see the stars. So many glimmering. So many. You see now. The stars. And him. A spot on the endless darkness. There’s a glow framing his face. The air is the color of blood. You hear the rattle of failing breath. You’ve got him now. One stab is all you needed. A puncture to the wounded. Over you, he’s where he should be. Why can’t you stand? Where are your legs?
         And he’s overhead. In the end. The air is slit open, guts tumbling out. He stares at you without eyes, and you don’t need to hear him. A bitter taste is lodged in your throat. You can’t see the stars anymore. One last time. There is still strength to be found. A lunge. A dive. A desperate charge. One stab. That’s. All. You. Need.
         But he parallels the air with crimson and it intersects, as neat as any dance. Oh. The world falls. Oh. It doesn’t hurt at all. Oh. Crumbling. The red. Oh. Needle tracks like claws. Oh. This gorgeous day. Gone so soon. Oh. So dark now. Oh. Is anyone. Is anyone there. Oh. Smear the streaks of darkness. Going down. Going down. But you’re fine. You can’t see. You’re fine. There’s nothing to see and nothing to hear and oh the dirt is caked under your fingernails with this acrid taste and oh there’s no pain at all just a short no pain falling nothing arc of the sky shows nothing no sight no everything is fine you’re fine there is nothing you’re fine you’re-
         And all of a sudden, Maleth woke up.
         Sitting up straight with a jerk, she wrenched her back in the process. A low moan of pain escaped her lips and she forced herself to concentrate, relegating to the pain to a tiny spot on her back that she could quickly wipe away and eliminate. This took some time, but the relief was certainly worthwhile. So many techniques became far more useful than she would have realized once she hit old age.
         The focusing had given her time to calm down as well. Her heart was still rattling in her chest and she felt that she could look down and see it trying to escape through her skin. With a trembling hand she adjusted her disheveled clothing, smoothed her wispy strands of hair. How long had she been asleep? The light shining through the window hinted that it was early evening, or at least dusk. That’s right, she had gone upstairs to ponder the day’s events and had wound up falling asleep. Age, again. She was getting more and more tired these days, the time was weighing down on her in an increasing burden each day. Soon, she would spend more time asleep than awake. Though, and one side of her face twitched at the thought, eventually she would spend all of her time asleep. In its own time. But not now. There was still too much to do, too many matters to consider.
         The dream was a fractured street play in her head, a jumble of words and images. She sensed a vague connection with it, but her head was too fuzzy to focus on it properly. A man stood out like a unyielding rail, his form as substantial as smoke. Was it trying to tell her something. Ha, Valreck, you have infected us all. She would have to perform a more thorough search later and see what could be found. If it was another problem, it could be neutralized, same as all the others.
         But before she did any of that, her rumbling stomach reminded her of other concerns. Priorities, priorities, even at the end of her life she barely had time to do the things that needed to get done. The day’s mundane concerns still crept in, interfering and delaying. It was maddening, especially when further days were much more scant and not as guaranteed.
         Twisting, she went to stuff her feet into slippers and get off the bed.
         A low exhalation of breath and a rustle of cloth made her stop.
         In her room Maleth kept a chair where one of her servants always sat to keep a watch on her while she slept and procure anything she might need. Marin was there now, sitting half slouched, one leg crossed over the other. Even in the dark, Maleth could see that there was a glint in her eyes that didn’t belong there. Her grin appeared too wide for her face.
         “Napping?” Marin laughed, her words falling into an unfamiliar cadence. “Boy, that’s some nerve, woman. I wish I could be that calm. Is that a old age thing where you no longer fear death? Because it’s definitely something to look forward to, if that’s the case.”
         The words were bold but there was a jittery undercurrent to them, just out of range, heard only if you were listening to the right frequency. Coolly, Maleth replied, “Death is something you should fear, for I think it creeps closer to you than it does to me.” In the darkness Marin looked misshapen, blending with the shadows. “You must be hiding from something, or perhaps you fear seeing me in person?” By now, the sudden appearance failed to surprise her as it once had, although she was unaware of how he did it so quietly. Still, she attained a sense of equilibrium fairly quickly, which was the entire goal. People like him, thrived on keeping others off balance. Once you took that away, all that was left was weakness. And that she had no trouble dealing with. “While anyone who wants to approach me here, can.”
         Marin snorted at the statement. “Hey, I was the one complimenting you and you have to turn it around and insult me instead. Makes me wonder why I bother with you. With any of you.” There was a distance in her voice, a vague echo. He was distracted, but where was he really? Maleth tried to find some sort of thread connecting them but it was too fine for her to detect.
         “Why don’t you get to the point and tell me what you want, before this becomes more tedious than it already is,” Maleth said, slipping off the bed and toward another chair that was in another corner of the room. Away from the covers, the room felt strangely chilled. What was the story? A sudden chill reveals the presence of the dead. It may become very cold in here indeed.
         “Tedious, she says,” Marin commented airily, waving one hand in a fluttering manner. “Tedious. I could be saving your life and you call it tedious. If I didn’t have so much respect for my elders I’d reserve some choicer words for you. What are you doing here, that is so crucial to our survival?”
         The sudden question was unexpectedly penetrating. “I’m negotiating with the Time Patrol to end this nonsense and put us in a better position, as well as neutralized both Ranos and the girl,” she replied smoothly, a trace of ire in her voice. “What exactly have you done, other than irritate everyone you come in contact with?”
         “Ah, but irritation is how pearls are formed,” Marin said with a laugh, uncrossing her legs and moving easily to her feet. “And so far I’ve managed to keep our other intruders from finding you, something for which I’m fairly sure I haven’t been thanked properly yet.” Cocking her head to the side, Marin cupped one hand around her ear. “What’s that, Maleth? I didn’t quite catch it. I’m sure you were about to say something.”
         By this point Maleth had made it over to the chair. Gingerly, mindful of muscles and joints that just didn’t want to respond the way they used to, she turned and settled herself into the plush cushions. Sometimes she would fall asleep in this chair, although she would always regret it, as her aching back would remind her. This entire house had a comfortable feel to it, she had grown quite used to it. It would be hard to leave it. She would miss it. She could say the same thing about her body. It had passed the point of lived-in a long time ago.
         Marin was staring at her across the room. Maleth wondered if he could see her mind from his vantage point, or if it was like trying to focus on insects through a long, battered tube. Vision was so imperfect to begin with, and all we did was make it harder. “I’m only going to repeat what I said before. You’re here bothering me for a reason. What is the reason?”
         Once her tone would have struck someone like a physical blow. Marin didn’t even flinch, her grin only became slimmer and more knife-edged. “Reasons, reasons, everyone wants reasons these days,” she said, idly turning and toying with the curtains covering the windows. The invisible lattice of starlight could be seen forming outside as the night struggled forward. One more day down. But how many more? “Very well, if I have to have a reason, then let’s try this.” Angling herself sideways, she placed one hand on the window and said to Maleth, “Have you been keeping track of what the others have been up to?”
         “Of course,” Maleth snapped. “As best I can. I’m not stupid, someone has to bother to coordinate this group. And I’m very much aware of where Tolin and Junyul are, as well as you. Although I’m growing less interested in you by the second, truth be told.”
         “And what about Valreck? You left him out.”
         Maleth’s twisted in a gesture of distaste. She didn’t reply immediately. A portion of her dream threatened to rush to the surface, gasping for breath. “Valreck . . . Valreck isn’t really my concern at the moment. He has rendered himself impotent and I can’t say I have much use for him at the moment.”
         “Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Marin chastised, tapping the glass with one finger. The hollow noise died quickly in the still room. “That was always your problem . . . you look out from the surface but you don’t inhabit. And this . . . this requires you to look deeper.” Marin made a sound that Maleth swore was a supressed giggle. It was impossible to tell for sure. “Valreck has been far from impotent, in fact I think he’d very insulted at your description of him. He’s been keeping very active, as a matter of fact.”
         “The point, dear,” Maleth demanded mildly. “What has he been doing?”
         “Now she insists,” Marin said to no one at all, her tone slyly quiet. She appeared to be sharing a private joke with the curtains. The wavery hazy quality of her voice was back. It was a problem at the source, she suspected. “Now she discards the ridicule and wants me to tell her.”
         “Out with it,” Maleth snarled and Marin’s face suddenly pressed against the window with a dull thud. “I have little problem hurting her to get to you. Do you wish to find out if I can trap you in there as easily as I trapped Ranos in this house? Please, by all means, continue to play these games with me. I am more than willing to play back.” A twisted smile crawled across her face. “However, I believe we will use rules more to my liking.”
         “Go ahead,” Marin sneered back, her words compressed by her face’s proximity to the window. “You’d be surprised at what I consider a prison, and what I don’t.” With a surprising effort she pulled herself away, spinning so that her back was to the wall. Maleth swore she heard a bone in her face pop. Shadows coated her features like an oily bruise. There was a renewed bout of seriousness in her stance, her eyes black diamonds as she regarded Maleth. “But why bicker when there’s so much useful gossip to discuss, hm?” Marin rubbed her face in a brief, brusque motion before continuing. “Do you remember what Valreck’s extracurricular activities were?”
         “Some nonsense with dreams, if I recall. Why, has he managed to make some progress? What exactly was he trying to do?”
         “I don’t know what he was trying to do, but I know what he has done,” Marin explained, feeling her way back to the chair without turning around. She sank back into it with a vague look of relief. Maleth again wondered where he really was. “I just saw him, he had one of his subjects doing the dreaming thing and pretty deep into it. Valreck told him he was trying to peek into the future with the dreams, you know, the thing that warned us the Time Patrol was coming. That’s what he said.”
         “Was that not the case?” Maleth asked, tiring of his sense of drama. Before this ended, she would have to cure of him that tendency for good, if it were possible. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Valreck was simply reading into his dreamers whatever he wanted to see. It’s not like he’s dealing with a literal thing. He just happened to be right this time.” Still, the man’s eerie visit mystified here and his questions had contributed to her current edginess. For all her talk of Valreck being useless, Maleth needed a way to make him truly useless. “I can’t imagine anything else coming out of it.”
         “That so?” Marin said, sitting on the lip of the seat, her face composed and stern. “Because that’s not what I saw . . . Valreck said he was looking into the future, but I didn’t see that.”
         “What do you mean? What were you looking at?” Her pulse threatened to quicken again, but an effort of will forced it back down. Her own dream danced on the edges of her consciousness, strobing bloodlights and fragmented imagery. Everything means something, a person once said. There is nothing meaningless in this life.
         “The kid’s head,” Marin said quietly. “Valreck didn’t think I could see into it, but I did, I saw into his dreams. And it wasn’t the future, Maleth, it was the past.”
         “The past,” Maleth whispered, wincing at a twinge of arthritis in her hands. Rubbing them together to ease the ache in her knuckles, she said, “So what, he-“
         ”It was you, he was dreaming of you, Maleth,” Marin said, apparently about to leap to her feet. There was a wiry, nervous energy infusing her limbs and a grasping arc to her voice. “I saw you in his head, in his dreams.”
         “Why would he be looking at me, as flattering as that is . . .”
         “It was back at the camp, I got a glimpse and that . . . that was where it was . . .” Marin’s eyes were constantly darting around the room, as if afraid of being overheard. “I think it was the camp, there were tents and sand all around. But it was definitely you . . . and I think I saw . . . I think Tolin was there, too . . .”
         Maleth felt a slow chill run down her spine. A spot of cold signifies the presence of the dead.
         “I mean it didn’t make any sense to me,” Marin was saying, hugging herself, her fingers digging into her arms, squeezing harshly. “And it probably means nothing to Valreck either but . . .” wide eyes suddenly stared at Maleth. “He was here before, wasn’t he . . . he mentioned it, he said . . . what did he want here, Maleth, did he say-“
         ”It was . . .” she said, struggling to her feet. The chill was following her around now, burrowing into her bloodstream. This wasn’t right. What was Valreck up to? Maleth kept trying to put the pieces together differently but there was only one way they fit together. And it did not create a shape she was very fond of. Something would have to be done. “It was of no great importance. Valreck’s increasing irrationality leads him to frequent passing whims. It was of no meaning.”
         “He’s dreaming of you, Maleth,” Marin said, her voice a bare wire, crackling in the empty spaces. There was an illness lurking in the corners. “I’m not sure how you see this as a good thing.”
         “A dream cannot hurt us,” Maleth insisted. “And the problem of Valreck will take care of itself in the long run.” She wondered how much of that she truly believed. Questions and now dreams. You couldn’t let it rest, could you? “He is not our biggest concern at the moment.”
         “You think so?” Marin said somewhat sadly. Somehow had turned off a light in her face. It was impossible to see any of her now. “Because I don’t.” Those last words were barely audible, dismembered by the air almost immediately upon leaving her lips.
         Then her head dropped forward and she tumbled off the chair.
         “Marin!” she called out, hobbling across the floor as fast as her withered legs could carry her. Damn my age. Damn the time, Maleth thought angrily. And damn you, Valreck, for making this so necessary. Did it have to end only one way? She wasn’t sure anymore. But it was the only way she knew. Her grip on life was not so diminished that she would easily relinquish it.
         Marin had begun to stir by the time Maleth reached her. “Oh,” the young woman said, rubbing her forehead where already a mark was forming where it had made contact with the floor. “I must have fainted, I’m so sorry, Maleth, I don’t know what happened . . .”
         “Don’t fret about it, child,” Maleth said gently, taking hold of Marin and helping her to her feet, aware that the young woman was still doing most of the work.
         “Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt your nap, Maleth . . .”
         “Not to worry, I have been wide awake for quite some time now,” Maleth replied. I want to think I have options, but it’s quite clear I don’t anymore. Valreck couldn’t be allowed to proceed any further. That much she knew now. Once she accepted that, the rest became easy. Blessing the girl with a friendly smile, she patted Marin on the shoulder and said, “And I already said not to worry, correct? Now help me pick out some clothes. I’m afraid we’re going to be quite busy tonight. Quite busy indeed.”

* * * * *

         “You still haven’t told me how my father is.”
         Ranos’ eyes flickered up casually from staring at his hands to glance over at Kara. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, actually.” The two of them were sitting across from each other, on separate couches, a low table between them, about the level of Kara’s knees, about the height of Ranos’ shins. Kara was perched on the edge of the cushion, hands tightly folded together, chewing nervously on her lip. She appeared to be readying herself for something, but had no idea what she was preparing herself for.
         Ranos, meanwhile, was sitting with his back set against the back of the couch, one leg resting on the opposite knee, one tanned hand idly smoothing the fabric of his robe. The moonlight from above somehow avoided him.
         “I didn’t want to ask, honestly,” was the half laughed reply. “I . . . if I let my thoughts wander I start thinking about it and I want to ask you but . . .” she paused, shifting his feet, trying to find a comfortable position. “I didn’t want to hear the answer. Not now. I’m afraid if it’s the wrong answer, I’ll . . . I don’t know.” Her voice dropped, blended with the dimness. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
         “Do you think I would surprise you with something that might hurt you, especially at this time?” Ranos asked, his voice not an accusation nor a question, really. Somehow, it was simply a statement. “I have some . . . experience with bad news, in the past, Kara. I know its effects.”
         “I didn’t know that for sure, though, because . . .” she leaned back, massaging her brows, right above her closed eyes. “I know you wouldn’t tell me, Ranos, out of the blue, just like that.” Her eyes opened to stare piercingly at him. “But if I asked you. That’s different. It’d be a different story then.” A small smile found the curve of her face. “You’re an honest man, Ranos, in your own way. I think that’s why you and my father get along so well.” Turning her face away slightly, she said, “So that’s why. It’s silly, I know. Secretly, I’ve been hoping you’d tell me and get it over with but . . .”
         “Kara,” came Ranos’ voice, his eyes cold, “are you asking me now?”
         Frowning, she said nothing at first, in the first few seconds. It appeared that she was trying to avoid Ranos’ gaze. Her expression deepened, even as she tried to smear it away with an averted glance. Blinking rapidly, she exhaled and still without looking at Ranos, replied softly, “Yes.”
         “Very well,” Ranos said calmly. He waited a moment, perhaps to see if she would take back the request. “As far as I know, he is fine. However, I cannot say for sure. I have not seen him in some time.”
         “But . . . but you came here together, didn’t you?” She drew her legs up so she was curled on the couch, feet just dangling off the edge.
         “Yes.”
         “I knew that,” she said quickly, with a stuttered laugh. “I don’t even know why I asked. He’d come and you’d be with him. It’s almost a guarantee. He tells me stories sometimes . . . of your adventures, the two of you. Together.” Kara wrapped her arms around her shoulders, resting her head on the couch. “You got separated this time, though.”
         “We were, yes,” Ranos replied, his eyes darting around the ill-lit home. Ears were everywhere, he suspected. A pair was no doubt right before him. “He was . . . taken, I believe.”
         “They tried to kill him, I think. A couple of days ago, when I was still in the forest, I felt . . . something. It was . . . a knife trying to cut air. I don’t know what they were trying to do. I don’t remember it all that clearly.” Kara’s words seemed to come from a parallel conversation, one that did not touch Ranos’.
         “I think I know what you’re speaking of.” A grim smile briefly touched his face. “And, in reality, you most likely prevented him from killing me. Your father possesses a will to live that is . . . difficult to overcome.”
         “So I hear,” Kara said with a quiet smirk. It vanished a second later, unable to survive in this atmosphere. “You think they still have him, Ranos?”
         “In all fairness, no. I do not.”
         “Do you think he managed to . . . hurt any of them before he got away?” she asked, her lips barely moving. She might not have been talking outloud. The transition, if there were any, was seamless. Eventually, as she grew older, there would be very little that she could do that would require effort. There was no doubt in his mind that she would surpass him. In a way, it was a sobering thing. Mandras, you managed to enact one decent achievement, in the end. Was it destiny? Perhaps, but not the way you anticipated. And I cannot say I am sorry how matters turned out. You deserved all the punishment I could administer, and then some. “Do you think he did?”
         “If he didn’t, he certainly would have tried. Your father was not one to be easily contained.” Nor am I. But he always sought to escape, while I tried to work from within the cage.
         “Good,” was the whispered hiss, nearly inaudible. With her face turned away, Ranos couldn’t be sure she had said anything at all.
         Kara said nothing for some time. The sketchy pattern of a cloud’s shadow fell over them with a fractal’s complexity. Slowly, Ranos looked to the side of the house, eyes narrowed briefly. Silently, he stood up, stepping past the table and toward the walls, without even a glance at Kara.
         On the couch, she stirred, perhaps sensing somehow the shifting air of his movements. Kara’s eyes appeared to be closed and her breathing indicated she was at least half asleep. “I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly, her words threatening to blur together as she murmured. “I’ve had a lot of time lately to do that.”
         Several feet away from the two couches, Ranos looked up, staring at the encircling balcony, arms at his sides and his gaze searching the uppermost reaches of the shadows. Except for the loose whisper of Kara’s voice, the house was utterly still.
         “They’re going to lose,” she said, her voice weary. “I thought about it and . . . and there’s just no way they can win. Even I can see that, and I don’t know anything about this stuff.”
         His eyes followed an invisible path, tracking it in a slow arc from the top floor down the side of the wall, toward the floor. There was a questioning tension in his face. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to walk toward the spot where the arc met the floor. His boots made only a soft creak on the wooden floor.
         “I don’t know why they don’t see that. No matter what they do, in the end they aren’t going to get what they want. It’s . . . it’s just inevitable. The worst they’ve able to do is keep you in check and they won’t be able to sustain it. Eventually something is going to break and it’ll be over.”
         With deliberate grace he moved to the wall, reaching out and running his hand, fingers spread, over the varnished surface. He began to trace a delicate line, moving sideways as he did so. His eyes were intent and he never said a word.
         “The longer this goes on, the more of an advantage you guys have. And if they don’t give up, if they don’t let this nonsense stop, people are just going to keep getting hurt, until . . . until in the end the only people left to hurt are them.”
         Ranos continued to walk until he was almost directly behind Kara, but still across the room. His path took him near one of the large rectangular windows that were featured on that wall of the house. He stood next to it, staring at the wall. In a careful motion, he brought his hand away from the wall.
         “And . . . the thing that gets me is . . . they have to know this. Whether they want to admit it or not. If they don’t they’re just . . . it’s just delusional. And I guess, I guess I’m afraid that this is going to end the way I think it’s going to end . . .”
         With a sudden motion, Ranos stepped in front of the window, thrusting the curtain aside. It fluttered out, allowing him access. The outside night pressed against the glass, revealing nothing.
         “. . . with all of them dead. And it’s stupid, there’s nothing here worth dying over, no matter what any of them think. And I can’t make them see that, all they want to do is hurt and . . .”
         A darker shadow seemed to pass in front of the window, smaller than Ranos but stalk-like in its width. Ranos stared at it and exhaled sharply.
         “. . . it gives us no choice but to hurt them back . . .”
         Gingerly, as if in disbelief, he pressed his hand up against the glass. A piece of the shadow seemed to reach out and meet him, separated by the transparent barrier. Without moving, it echoed him. Ranos’ eyes reflected only darkness.
         “. . . but I know there has to be a better way. It doesn’t have to end in all this blood. My father would know, he’d figure out a better way. I know he would.”
         Ranos looked down, still keeping his hand against the glass. His lips barely moving, he said, “Not now. Not just yet.”
         The shadow shifted warningly, appeared to waver.
         “But I think they’re all going to die, Ranos. And that’s not right. It’s not right at all. There has to be a different way. This can’t be the only way.”
         Lifting his eyes to the shadow again, Ranos whispered sharply, “Trust me. Please. Wait.”
         “Did you say something, Ranos?” Kara asked suddenly.
         Removing his hand from the window, Ranos turned away with a sudden jerk. Behind him the shadow bent, turned sideways and was gone. Only the faintest flicker of crimson was left behind, illuminating nothing. It might have simply been a trick of the light. It disappeared anyway a scant moment later, before it could be truly noticed.
         “Did I?” Ranos questioned, casting one last glance at the window before beginning the walk back to the couch. “I’m afraid not. If anything, I was merely thinking outloud.”
         She gave a quiet giggle. “Talking to yourself is a sign of getting old, Ranos. Don’t you know that?”
         “Aye,” he said, returning the statement with a small smile, although she wasn’t looking at him. “That it is.” His eyes scanned the wall again. “But sometimes, it’s the only way for people to know what you’re thinking.”
         “And that’s a good thing?”
         “Once in a while, child, it can be a very good thing indeed.”

* * * * *

Do you see him?

         Of course. What do you see?

I tell you he walks the streets.

         Yes. In glittering silence.

He follows the invisible chimes of the path.

         I cannot understand the effortlessness of his struggles.

There is death in his muscles.

         Death in his stride.

Death in the expanse of his heart.

         Do you see him?

We watch.

         Not with our eyes.

Through windows and walls.

         Doors and floors.

It is not sight when you hear.

         Or touch when you feel.

From a million angles we see.

         From a million places we witness.

Old eyes and blurred eyes.

         Young eyes and fractured eyes.

And with every instance covered.

         And every perspective sealed.

We see what you do.

         And what you might have done.

With your graceful death.

         And the beauty of your rigid color.

In the center.

         Of the heart of this place.

To stab a single shaft is all you need.

         It’s all you can do.

To murder it.

         And close our burning eyes.

Forevermore.

         He will do it.

It must come down tonight, or soon.

         Do you think?

We can only pray.

         Is there any hope to grasp?

We cannot say.

         Welcome this, then, and welcome him.

Yes.

         Yes.

* * * * *

         Walking down the stairs, she could hear them talking. Or, more precisely, she could hear the child talking. Ranos’ portion of the conversation, somehow, was nothing more than static bursts of nonsense syllables. She knew there was meaning hidden underneath the waves of distortion, but all her efforts couldn’t penetrate it. Even more maddening, she had no conception of how Ranos was doing it. It appears, even as my age, there are still some tricks I can still learn. Perhaps, she could have the child rip all his secrets out of his head and see how many of the legends were true. Ranos had tricks and mischief, but she possessed true weapons and that left no room for escape.
         They both looked up when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Maleth wondered which of them had detected her presence first. No doubt it was the child, who she was now linked to, for better or for worse. The girl was a storm, weighted beneath the water, submerged to the point where it could do no more damage. But if allowed to rise, the power in its gusts could undo them all. So far Maleth had managed to get the girl from fighting her too extensively. If it came down to an open contest however, Maleth did not believe she would survive the outcome. Best to end this, then, soon, while she was still in control.
         Except she wasn’t in control. Not completely. And it was a situation that would have to be rectified before she could proceed further.
         “Well, hello you two,” Maleth said upon reaching the pair of couches. Immediately she felt the darting needle attacks of Ranos probing at her defenses, a thousand sharp gnats searching for any sign of weakness. There were none of course. But it never failed to amaze her how diligently Ranos tried, or how skilled his attempts were. If she were a trifle weaker, he would have made his way inside. And from there his wishes would be supreme. “You seem to be up late.” Speaking only to the girl, she said, “You should be getting your rest, it’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow.”
         Ranos’ eyes flickered briefly to the rows of doors lining the upstairs wall. The girl only smiled demurely and settled back on the couch. For a second Maleth had an abstract view of Ranos, two different angles superimposed on each other, although the color and focus were far sharper on the one view than the other. Fading eyesight was one of her least favorite aspects of aging. The world didn’t seem as enjoyable if you couldn’t witness it in all its variety and splendor. It was one reason why she had focused her skills in the direction she had. Strange how fears can shape your life. Most of the time we allow it. She had no regrets.
         “Then you are still going through with it?” Ranos asked. His voice was opaque, revealing nothing except what he chose to, and even that was suspect. If Valreck had been less of a dreamer, he might have become this man. But as it were, he was less than half the man Ranos was, although still dangerous in his own way. The trick was to neutralize him before he struck. It had worked for Ranos. Now she only had do it again.
         “I don’t believe he has agreed to any of my demands,” Maleth replied, leaning on a cane for support. Her legs ached, as they seemed to these days at night. She would Marin massage them later, perhaps, when she returned to bed. For now, she pushed the pain aside. The sensation was rough enough to allow someone to gain a foothold. She had to be smooth and let nothing attach to her. It was how she lived her life. She had no regrets. “Unless you know something I do not, dear.”
         “I know a great many things you do not,” Ranos said, his contempt barely muted. She wondered what it would have been like to have been present the day he left the College, all swirling anger and discarded restraint, throwing his former teachers aside like the children they were, revealing the strength and the fallacy of the College at the same time. It must have been glorious. “I know that if you try to obtain what you seek, you will fail.”
         “What are you talking about?” Maleth asked, raising one eyebrow at Ranos. Letting her gaze settle on Kara, who was listening attentively, she said, “Has he been filling your head with this nonsense, Kara?”
         “Oh, I don’t pay all that much attention,” Kara said with a casual laugh. “He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
         “Indeed,” Ranos noted mildly. He was standing now, having risen to his feet some time ago. Even sitting he was taller than she was. Drawn to his full height, he towered over them both. Maleth didn’t care. Intimidation had no power over her. She had really nothing to be afraid of anymore. “Far be it for me to explain what you will discover soon enough anyway, if you decide to proceed with this foolishness.”
         “What is it then, Ranos?” Maleth asked somewhat peevishly. This isn’t what she had come down here for. The dream lingered like a foul smell in the crevices of her mind. Her gaze kept drifting to the child, away from the child. I have no tricks, only weapons. “Out with it, if it’ll silence your whining. What are we missing here, that only your expansive intellect has pinpointed?”
         The smile on his face might as well not have been there at all, for all it lightened his features. “It’s understandable that you would not see this. You lack my experience in these matters. Which is why what seems obvious to me appears to you only as condescension.”
         He spun away from her, hands clasped behind his back, his robes obscuring the true shape of his frame. Not for the first time Maleth wondered what he could be hiding under his loose clothing. There was talk he had carried a knife around until he cut his hundredth throat with it. Then, sodden with blood, it fell to the ground and no man since has been able to pick it up. Ranos could, if he choose to. But it was said he was better off without it, that the knife understood this and fled to free Ranos. Maleth thought it was all nonsense.
         “The man you have is Time Patrol. His body is fueled by a constantly regenerating physiology. This applies to all portions of his body.” Without turning around, he added, “Are you with me, so far?” in a voice that was more maddening than the any mockery from a true professor.
         “Come on, Ranos, before you bore us to death,” Kara complained. Ranos shot her a sharp glance, but his eyes remained as dense as ever, letting nothing escape.
         “You heard her, Ranos,” Maleth added, to remind him of what control really meant. “Let’s get this over with.”
         Twisting slightly sideways to look at her, Ranos offered another sliver of a half smile. “Very well. The question then, that you have not considered in your zeal is . . . why would the Time Patrol not consider the possibilities of people with plans such as yours and not develop failsafes in the wake of that consideration.” Without bothering to pause, he continued, “If you have Kara read his mind, it will trigger a biological reaction that will destroy his mind within seconds. It will not kill him, but it will cause everything in his mind to be essentially wiped out, down to the most basic of functions. Shortly after, his brain will regenerate the damage and he will recover. But he will not be the same man. His memory, his personality, everything about him will have been erased and he will have to literally start over again, no better than an infant.” Casting his eyes upward, he finished, “You will not get the information you seek, and you will completely destroy the man that is currently your prisoner.”
         “And how do you know these things with such certainty?” Maleth demanded, trying to absorb that Ranos was telling her, searching for the shards hidden in the weeds of his speech. If it was not a feint, it was a distraction to hide the true feint. And somewhere, his actual move was lurking, waiting to spring.
         “Because I have seen it for myself,” Ranos said, his face barely defined in the dimness. His eyes appeared to be sink, to separate, to drift away. It was a trick of the light. Except there was no light. “Because I did it to one of their own, once, not long ago.”
         “And yet you are here, still alive.”
         “In the end, it appears they deserved it,” Ranos responded with a faint shrug. “Having been present, I cannot say I disagree.”
         Maleth smiled at the dark mystery in Ranos’ words. I have fought a Time Patrol soldier, was the undercurrent in his meaning, and won. You will be no challenge. The implication, even from a man with his capabilities, was still arrogant to Maleth’s mind. It would be entertaining to finally ruin his illusions. Maleth would make his death quick, however. No reason to prolong this affair anymore than necessary. But she needed a secure position before that could happen, which she did not possess at the moment. But soon, soon.
         “Well, you bring up an interesting point,” she noted, risking falling over to lift up the cane and gesture briefly. Fire lanced up her legs. Willpower kept her upright. Some days it was all she had. “But interesting is all it is. For all your confidence there are still several flaws in your theory. The most glaringly obvious one is, if this is indeed a biological aspect of the soldiers, then it can be stopped just as easily as any natural process.” Ranos just stared at her, his expression as calculatingly neutral as always. Perhaps he was merely humoring the old woman and he truly believed the nonsense he spouted. “We can simply halt the process before it gets underway, gather the information that we desire and then allow it go proceed unimpeded. After all, we’ll have no further use for him after that, hm?”
         “So you have it all figured out, it seems,” Ranos said dryly.
         “Sounds like it,” piped in Kara, bouncing a little on the couch. For a brief second Maleth felt a slight pressure on the side of her head. The child testing the strength of her bonds, no doubt. Maleth prepared herself to clamp down, but the girl pushed no further.
         “The only question that remains, then, is when are you going to do it?” Ranos inquired with a veneer of politeness. “Surely there is no real reason to wait any longer. Every second you delay increases the chance that the prisoner will escape or . . .” and there was a muted glee that flashed all too briefly in his eyes, “. . . that someone will arrive here, to disrupt your careful plans.”
         His words brought back Rathas’ conversation, and the dream she had just prior to his entrance. Her position, however ascendant it might be, was all too precarious to be sustained in the current environment. Dangerous winds were gathering, and their violence would be centered here, in this place, seeking her, threatening to disrupt all that she had accomplished so far. It was up to her to minimize the potential damage before it reached her and became beyond her repair. It would be coming soon, she knew, and she had to stop it before it gained too much momentum to be easily turned aside. Yet it would not come from one direction, she suspected, and while she had some inclination of the potential adversaries, she could not detect them all. And if they struck in concert, she might still be undone.
         What then, to do? The solution was obvious, even to a simpleton. Deal with the threats that she was aware of and hope their absence would blunt the combined damage of the others when the time came. It was certainly better than inaction, which was guaranteed to end in disaster for her. No, she had to do something, that much was clear. Inactivity would only lead to a stasis of a more permanent kind. The question was, what exactly could she do. The answer to that was not so simple, alas.
         “They might,” she told Ranos, “but I am aware of those with such intentions and have my own plans to interfere with theirs.” Something drew her eyes to the child, who was sitting quietly, watching the interaction without further comment. It was hard to believe that power to surpass even Ranos on a near exponential scale rested within the confines of her mind. Maleth was convinced now this was the Child of Destiny that Mandras had so often spoke of, the leader who could come to guide them all. No longer a leader, the girl no doubt was still capable of feats of great beauty. Or deadliness. Which concerned Maleth to a greater degree.
         “You will not send her away from here,” Ranos intoned suddenly, his voice bristling with abrupt anger. Maleth’s gaze returned to him to find his eyes flaring with a quiet rage. “It is bad enough that I must stand here and allow you to use her for your current intended purposes, but I will not be idle while you seek to use her as a weapon, a kind of inanimate tool.” His face was contorted with a contempt that Maleth rarely saw, the type that was soaked nearly into the marrow itself, until the person nearly quivered with hatred. It took her slightly by surprise, but Ranos’ posturing was not about to deter her. The path was clear enough and the child was a part of it. She had tolerated certain threats long enough. It was time to empty the playing field.
         “I will seek to use her as I see fit,” Maleth sneered back, reaching out and clamping down on the pain center in his brain, watching with silent satisfaction as the other man grimaced, his knees bending as he tries to remain on his feet, his mouth threatening to open into a anguished scream. “There is too much at stake for me here now and I will not be disrupted because I let my choicest weapon sit idle.” She twisted her will, and Ranos gripped the edge of the couch with one white-knuckled hand, his head bent in agony, his back trembling as his nerves were overloaded with harsh sensations. She wondered what it truly felt like. Some told her it was like being dipped in boiling water. That was too mundane though. She preferred a pain so base that it attained a sort of poetry in its implementation. A fine sand sliding just under the skin, scraping the sensitive tissues, unable to be ejected. Yes. “And I did not procure the tools I do possess just so I can allow them to gather dust while everything I strived for falls apart around me. I want you to understand that, Ranos. This is not mere whimsy on my part, what I plan to do today will affect me for the rest of my life, which I fully intend to last far longer than yours.” His arm had bent now as his body was forced nearer to the floor. Ranos gagged, perhaps attempting to say something in rebuttal. It emerged inarticulate and dead from his twisted lips. His knees finally buckled and his forehead hit the arm of the couch, where it rested, Ranos’ heavy breathing the only sound filling the room, his body heaving with the effort of maintaining control. “And if I require her to kill someone, then I will do so, regardless of your irrelevant desires.”
         Kara watched with a detached curiosity, neither moving or saying a word.
         “And anyway,” Maleth concluded, “the decision is not yours to make. It belongs to only one person in this room, and that, I’m afraid, is not you.” Ranos only coughed and slid the rest of the way to the floor, one hand still clutching the couch, fingers pressed tightly together.
         Turning to Kara, who stared back at her with innocent eyes, Maleth said, “This thing I would have you do is well within your abilities and would not take long. It would also help me greatly. Valreck is a potential threat to us all. It is time he was dealt with, in a final fashion.”
         Kara said nothing in reply. In some ways her expression had the same guarded unreadability as Ranos’. It didn’t matter to Maleth. She knew what lurked beneath, in the recesses of her mind, in the emotions and sensations that churned relentlessly under the child-like guise. Her will and the child’s will were nearly one. That was all that mattered.
         “I am returning to bed. Please let me know within the hour what you decide, my dear. I trust you’ll do the right thing.”
         And with that, she turned away, ignoring Ranos’ pained gasping for air, and began the journey back to her room.

* * * * *

         There was sand blowing into his nostrils, fine particles of irritation. He could feel the weighted heat under his body, shifting with every involuntary movement.
         He was on the floor. There was no desert.
         The sun was a merciless glare with not a cloud to blunt its gaze.
         The room was dark. Someone had closed the door, the window. It was so cold in here. He couldn’t feel his limbs.
         All around him people dashed back and forth, their feet rasping on the sand, their voices mingling in and out of his hearing, dressed in robes and tunics, finery and rags, in all the colors he could conceive. To the limits of his vision, it was all he could see. The bustle of human activity in this harsh place.
         His eyes were closed. He could see nothing. But he knew he was absolutely alone. No, there was one person in here with him. He was alone. No, there were two. There were two.
         Moving, he crawled along the sand, conversations falling in and out of his hearing. Half the words he didn’t understand. He went to seek words he could grasp.
         The floor stank of dust and people. Perhaps he was resting in a dank puddle. People were talking, but the words weren’t there. They struck his ears and fell lifelessly to the floor.
         By a tent no different than any other, he found them. Of course they couldn’t see him. He was only the funnel, the conduit. There was nothing to react to anymore. No matter how many times he looked, it would all happen the same way. Each and every time.
         The voices ignored him. There was a hole in his head and all the important thoughts kept leaking out. Occasionally an eye would cast a look over his streaming thoughts and pluck out the useful ones. He wished to speak, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
         “Have you heard the news? They’re trying to keep it quiet, but the word is spreading around the camp.”
         “I can’t say I’m able to bring myself to care much these days. What the others are doing now is no longer any real concern of mine.”
         “No, but I think this is important, if any of it is true. It’s what we’ve been waiting for. After all this time now, this is our chance.”
         “I suppose, but I don’t think they’ll be able to find me again before I finish my work here. Any attempted interference on their part is really only a minor thing.”
         “You haven’t even heard about it yet. Will you give me a chance to finish, okay?”
         “I’m not quite sure what you want me to do, here.”
         “Just shut up and let me talk. He’s gone, all right? That’s the news. He’s just . . . gone. Nobody has seen him.”
         “Oh, I can sense them, still lurking around. The one’s thoughts are particularly loud. I have no desire to waste any more time on them, however. You’re on your own, I’m afraid.”
         “I thought so, too, but it looks like he just . . . vanished. Someone saw him walk into his tent and he never came back out. I don’t know what it means, but he’s gone. People are blaming all kinds of things, from the Time Patrol to aliens to anything.”
         “If that’s what you want to do, it’s fine by me. The village serves no further use to me intact or otherwise. I’d just as soon see it gone. I’d recommend something more surgical first, however.”
         “I’ll say, it was quick whatever it was. But do you know what this means? There’s nothing standing in our way now. The last obstacle was him and he’s been removed. Our last reason for staying just vanished. He has no other excuses.”
         “You think? A lure? Is it necessary? Though I suppose I can see why you are not interested in a direct battle. Any possible advantage would be supremely useful, I agree.”
         “That’s right. That’s why we have to leave now. This is our last opportunity. You know it is. Any longer and we won’t be able to sneak out. If he stays he dooms the rest of us. And he has no reason to stay anymore. Any of us could vanish next and then we’d be totally screwed.”
         “If you want to go that far, then, yes, I agree. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I do not have any more real usefulness for him anymore. I have what I need now and his presence is no longer required.”
         “But it is. You know that. Listen, I know he’s not going to want to talk to anyone, but we have to convince him that this is the time. Okay? You get what I’m saying?”
         “More or less. But I think my experiments are nearly completely. All I need is time to go over the results and see what conclusions I can draw. I’m somewhat relieved actually. The problem has been bothering me for some time. I’ll be glad to be rid of it.”
         “That’s what I said, too. Between you and me, he annoyed the absolute crap out of me. I’m glad he’s gone, if it means we get to survive. And if that’s callous, well hell, life hasn’t been exactly pleasant for me lately either.”
         “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. I’m sure this encounter will go significantly better, especially with the element of surprise. The sooner all our troubles are ended, the better.”
         “Damn right. There’s more to this than it seems, I can assure you of that. But who cares, as long as we get what we want, right?”
         “I think, one way or another, everyone will receive what they deserve. That is the way these matters seem to work.”
         “Not me. No way. Yeah, I might have been involved, but I’m sure as hell not saying anything. Do you know what he’d do if he found out?”
         “That’s to be expected, more or less.”
         “Yeah, but who wants to experience it?”
         “Hm. I’ll think about it. But actually, Tolin, I do have one small favor to ask of you when you’re all finished.”
         “Just smile and nod and don’t let on, whatever you do. Or it’s finished. It’s over.”
         “Just come back here, when it’s over. I have some questions that I’d like to ask you.”
         “So whatever it is, just agree. That’s all. And everything will turn out to be okay. I know it will.”
         A door opened, shut. No light was let in. There was a foul scent he couldn’t evict.
         Moving away, voices fading, he looks up and notices the sky.
         His body belongs to someone else. No matter which way he turns the view is always the same.
         It’s so beautiful, so clear he could see beyond the constraining horizon into the very boundaries of infinity.
         He can’t penetrate this darkness. That’s what the voice told him.
         A blue that is too pure to truly exist.
         Once he had a name. But he can’t remember it anymore.
         It can’t be possible, even here. It threatens to steal his breath away.
         And when the new instructions came, it was clear just how little choice he had.
         And he never wants to look away for fear it might be lost.
         Everything he knew was gone. There was nothing else.
         Because
         the
         sky
         is
         so
         dark-

* * * * *

         In the bed she still couldn’t sleep. Her wide open eyes saw only darkness, with not even the luxury of the dancing abstract shapes the mind normally created to compensate for the lack of stimulation. Lying like this, on her back, with the covers pulled up to her chest like a makeshift shroud, she wondered again what death would be like. No sensation. No way to understand the lack of sensation. In a way she looked forward to it, to disconnecting herself from humanity. Even since she was a child the unwanted sensations of the world were constantly banging on her brain, a thousand unnamed colors streaming into her skull, pushing out everything else. It had taken her a long time to become a singular person and not the summed combination of all those around her. It had taken her a long time to learn how to use what was around her as extensions of herself. Her whole life, perhaps, it had taken. And now she was here, at the near end of it. Had all the effort been worth it? She was inclined to think so, if only because she found wasted effort distasteful. If it was useless, what then was the point of doing it at all. Too many people had no answer to that question.
         Adrift in the darkness, she let her mind wander to wherever it desired. So many minds, so many lives. Touching each one was like visiting an old friend now. She could look through their eyes and know who it was simply by their perspective, the feel of their bodies, the cadence of their breathing. There was so much that made us unique, that we never realized. She was unable to live a thousand lives, but she felt she had been able to at least experience some of them. And if that gave her more than her fair share, that was just too bad.
         It would end, soon, though. It had to. The candle was burning down, the darkness was falling on them all. There was nothing left. She thought she had a dream where a outside a man wandered the streets like the road was his cage and the houses an unattainable sanctuary. Nobody would look at him directly. She had no idea if he was even real. One girl kept staring at a strange pattern of droplets on her window. The drops were rust colored. Another woman just staring at the door, waiting for her husband to walk back in. He hadn’t been seen in hours. If he was out there, he was sharing the streets with myths and rumors. It was all coming back tonight, all the tales emerging from whenever they had faded into the collective unconscious. Who made the smooth gouges in the house? She felt it through other fingers and it made as much sense to her as it did to the man touching it. The clatter on the roof? Even young ears could give her no clue. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was merely a symptom. In the darkness she was isolated and connected to it all. Their fears seeped into her and it was an effort to stay above it all, to not let it touch her. She could try to keep it outside, but fear, like things in stories best left unmentioned, could sometimes cut through anything.
         You bring an end, then? I welcome it. But not now. Not just yet.
         And an ending, but not the ending, stepped just outside her door, a petite hand poised to knock on it. There was no need. She knew where each of them were. Especially this one. Especially her.
         “Come in, dear,” she said, aghast at the rasp her voice had become. Was she truly so tired, so worn? Age was merely a state of mind. But the body, that was another matter entirely.
         The door opened with barely a creak, the meager light spilling in and quickly devoured by the darkness of her room. The child stood there, framed by a half-light rectangle. Her hair was pushed away from her face, spilling down her shoulders, leaving nothing to distract from her features. When she was mature, she would be quite beautiful. Her face was strangely alien and yet oddly familiar at the same time. It wasn’t something she could concerned with, tonight. In other times, maybe. But not now. Not now.
         “Well, have you decided yet, dear?” Maleth asked, after a long moment during which no one spoke. “Will you go and do this simple thing for me?”
         The child looked down briefly, beginning to fold her arms over her chest, managing it in a loose fashion before letting them simply drop to her sides. Her eyes acquired a near gleam in the darkness.
         “Yes,” Kara said, turning her head away sharply from Maleth, as if struck. Her voice barely carried. Maleth didn’t need to hear. She had the source. The young eyes fell on her one more time, unblinking. “I’ll do it,” she stated simply, and that was all.