LC01 Sweet Starfire

  As dawn filtered slowly through the tangle of overhead leaves and vines, Cidra decided that the stone wasn’t doing Severance much good. He still clung to it, but she didn’t like the way he seemed to have become dependent on it. The fever wasn’t abating, and the added warmth of the stone might easily be doing harm. Kneeling beside him, Cidra tried to remove it from his grasp.

  “No.” He reacted sharply, protecting the sphere with both arms. For a moment his eyes opened, staring at her with fierce resistance. “Don’t touch it,” he said very clearly.

  They were the first clear words he had spoken all night. Cidra tried to reason with him. “It’s warm, Severance. You need to be cool. Give me the stone. You can have it back later.”

  “Don’t touch it.” His eyes closed again, but his grip on the stone didn’t loosen.

  Cidra gave up on the task and went back to trying to cool him down with stream water. Around the perimeter of the circle the shift from night to day was taking place. A few choked shrieks marked the efforts of a few lingering hunters. She was getting used to the sounds of the jungle, Cidra realized dispassionately. She was amazed at how many things she was becoming accustomed to seeing, hearing, and doing these days.

  As the day began to warm, Cidra became aware of a slight dizzy sensation. The light-headedness Severance had warned her about, she assumed. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. She didn’t dare risk eating any of the plant life. Severance had been convinced that there was too much possibility of being poisoned. Without the proper equipment she couldn’t test for toxins.

  For a while she tried to convince herself that she could go another day without eating. After all, she had fasted more than once for a day or two in a secret effort to open her stubborn mind. It had been a long time ago, back when she had still believed she might be able to catapult herself into Harmonichood by sheer willpower. The exercise hadn’t worked, although it had produced a light-headed feeling that for a while convinced her she might be onto some useful technique.

  The problem today was that she simply couldn’t afford to be light-headed. Not with Harmony-knew-what prowling around outside the circle and a sick man on her hands. She had to maintain her strength, both physically and mentally. And that meant she was going to have to find something to eat.

  She glanced toward the perimeter of the protected ground, looking for the remains of the hopper Severance had skinned and cleaned the previous evening. He had pushed the entrails outside the circle. There was no sign of anything, not even the head. Renaissance had taken care of the garbage in its own sure fashion.

  Not that she wanted to eat whatever was left of the poor hopper. Cidra’s stomach grew queasy again just at the thought. She went back to the endless task of bathing Severance and tried to put food out of her mind.

  But when she stumbled a little on a trip to the stream, she began to worry. She had no idea how long she was going to be trapped inside this circle with Severance. Common sense dictated that she not let herself grow weak. She was going to have to eat. Just existing on this planet seemed to take a lot of inner energy. Cidra eyed the pulser and wondered how hard it would be to hit something such as the hopper.

  Surely the principles of aiming and firing a weapon couldn’t be fundamentally different than the task of collecting and focusing a mind for deep, concentrated study. Harmonic philosophy taught that all things could be assessed and comprehended. In addition to focusing and concentration, she would need a certain amount of coordination, Cidra supposed. She had that from her training in Moonlight and Mirrors.

  Picking up the pulser, she went to the edge of the circle and sat cross-legged. It could be a long wait until something edible wandered close enough to assure her a clear shot. She took the time to slowly clear her mind of extraneous thought. If she was going to do this, she would do it quickly and cleanly. Using the techniques of meditation, she willed herself to an outer and inner stillness. She would become one with the weapon, not a fake Harmonic holding a foreign instrument of destruction. She must make the pulser an extension of herself.

  Deliberately she fused herself and the pulser into a single entity. It wasn’t particularly difficult once she had cleared her mind of the ramifications of what she was about to do. In some ways she was merely applying the methods she used for programming a computer or writing a poem. The underlying philosophical harmony of all tasks was the same.

  Time passed, bringing nothing into range except a slithering green snake that didn’t look very edible to Cidra. She waited. Behind her Severance was quiet, still wrapped around his precious rock.

  When the small hopper flitted into view, Cidra’s hand came up and her finger squeezed the trigger without any hesitation. It was what she had been waiting for, and her body responded accordingly. The hopper flipped over, quivered for a second, and then went limp. Cidra lowered the pulser.

  Slowly she got to her feet and shook herself out of the trance. As she stared at the dead creature all of her natural revulsion to eating meat returned in a sickening wave. This time she kept her stomach under control. She stepped cautiously out of the circle, caught the hopper by the ears, and yanked it back to safety.

  For a moment she simply looked at her catch, wondering how she was going to find the nerve to cut into it. She had almost talked herself out of making the effort when she experienced another wave of unsteadiness. There was no point in waiting any longer. Resolutely she went over to where Severance lay and reached into the utility loop for the knife.

  The job was, as Severance had said, not neat and tidy like a holotape of a dissection. Twice Cidra had to stop long enough to let the racking heaves pass. Both times she recovered and went back to the task. She knew the theory of what needed to be done. She’d had a very thorough education. When she was finished, she pushed the entrails and the head outside the circle.

  She washed the hopper’s blood from her hands and let her stomach have its way one more time. Then she switched on the flamer and spitted a hindquarter on the point of the knife. Ignoring the hissing of crackling fat, she roasted her kill. She stilled her mind and her body before she took the first bite by repeating the familiar words that preceded a Harmonic meal.

  This time the food stared down. It took an effort of will, and there were a few seconds when Cidra wasn’t sure she was going to win the contest with her stomach, but in the end she did. Slowly and methodically she ate the entire hindquarter. Then she roasted the second hindquarter and carried it over to Severance.

  “Try to eat,” she coaxed, letting him have a whiff of the meat. He didn’t respond. When she tried to insert a bite between his lips, he spit it out. With a sigh Cidra sat back on her heels and wondered what to do next.

  An hour later she happened to glance across the circle and saw that the remains of the hopper were gone. Another Renaissance meal was concluded, bones and all. Nothing went to waste on this planet.

  The day progressed with painful slowness. Twice Cidra dozed, snapping uneasily awake each time. Perhaps it would be better if she slept during the daylight. If she didn’t, she was bound to drift off to sleep tonight. The circle seemed so safe. The third time her eyes closed, Cidra allowed herself to drift into sleep.

  A faint cracking sound woke her some time later. She opened her eyes slowly and realized that dusk was setting on the jungle. She and Severance had spent another whole day here. The thought of her companion made her glance automatically in his direction. He was still sleeping soundly, curled around the stone.

  She heard the cracking noise again and roused herself fully, reaching for the pulser in her lap. She climbed to her feet and peered around the circle. Nothing stirred near the edge as far as she could see. When the sound came a third time, she suddenly realized where it was coming from and whirled around toward Severance. She saw the rock he was holding shiver in his grasp.

  “Sweet Harmony!” Cidra edged closer, trying to see what was happening. Severance was still huddled around his possession, but the stone seemed to be quiv
ering in his arms. Even as she watched, a distinct crack appeared in the black surface. Unaware of what she was doing, Cidra brought up the nose of the pulser and stepped forward. This time she would take the stone away from Severance by force. Surely, after all these hours of fever, he was no longer strong enough to stop her.

  There was a sharp splintering sound from the rock just as Cidra reached for it. Severance groaned and hugged it closer. She succeeded in pushing one of his hands out of the way and had just gotten a grip on the sphere when it cracked completely open.

  She heard the savage hissing before she saw the damp reptilian head emerge from the broken stone. Frantically Cidra struggled to pull the rock away from Severance before whatever was inside escaped. Fragments of the shell came free in her hand. The head whipped out, snapping at her hand with a mouthful of tiny sharp teeth.

  Cidra yelped and yanked her fingers out of the way. The creature turned immediately toward Severance’s midsection, its blue, leathery body uncurling from the remains on the shell. With a sudden shock of logic Cidra realized what was going to happen. Severance was intended as the hatchling’s first meal.

  She didn’t dare fire the pulser at this range. She would surely kill Severance as well as whatever was trying to eat him. Furiously she banged the nose of her weapon against the creature’s snout. The blow managed to get its attention away from Severance. The creature hissed again and struck at the offending pulser. Its teeth closed around the metal and then released it as it apparently realized that the pulser couldn’t be eaten.

  Frantically Cidra slammed the weapon against the leathery blue head once more. Again she got the creature to snap at the muzzle of the pulser. This time she jerked upward and out. With its mouth still locked around the metal mouth of the pulser, the blue reptile was carried with it. The creature released its hold in midair and fell to the ground in a hissing coil. It struck at Cidra as if realizing that she was the source of the problem.

  Cidra raised the pulser and fired with the same unthinking sureness she had used to bring down the hopper. The reptile jerked twice. It writhed horribly on the ground, attempting even in its death throes to get back to its intended meal. Cidra fired again, and at last it went still.

  Behind Cidra Severance groaned sharply, still not waking. He moved restlessly and spoke in a slurred, hot tone. “Cidra, Cidra.”

  She ignored him, her attention still on the dead stone creature. She wanted it out of the circle. It was wrong here. Dead or alive, it had no business in this place. She kicked at the body with the toe of her boot. It flipped over, revealing four appendages on the iridescent light blue belly. The front pair terminated in projections that looked too much like human fingers for Cidra’s peace of mind. She kicked at the dead body again, intent on getting it out of the circle. The sense of wrongness was almost overpowering now. She knew for certain that she didn’t want to touch it with her hands.

  Three more kicks brought the stone creature’s body to the edge of the circle. Cidra swung the toe of her boot one more time and pitched the remains into the thick greenery on the other side of the magic perimeter. There was a stir of activity almost at once. She got a glimpse of a furred tail as something pounced and then heard the crunch of jaws on a blue, leathery body. Renaissance would take care of the problem. Cidra hurried back to Severance.

  He was more restless than ever. The front of his shirt was ripped where the creature had taken a bite out of it, but there were no marks on his skin. Cidra breathed a sigh of relief and knelt beside him. His stirred under her hand.

  “So hot. It’s so reeting hot. I can’t stand it.” He tore at his shirt with his hands.

  “Stop it, Severance.” Firmly she pulled his fingers free of the shirt. “I’ll cool you down. I promise.” She reached for the bag and poured water over his head, throat, and chest, dampening the shirt. He shivered and quieted. Lapsing back into an unintelligible mumble, he curled up again and appeared to be about to go back to sleep. Cidra wetted him again and waited. The delirious mumbling halted finally, and Cidra decided that he was asleep. She sat back and tried to think.

  The first thing that came to mind was the memory of the four black stones that were piled in the safehold. She had to destroy them. There was no telling when Severance might decide to make another trip inside and carry one out. Furthermore, there was no telling when one of those awful eggs might hatch of its own accord. The thought of four of the dark blue reptiles wandering out of the safehold seeking food was more than Cidra wanted to contemplate.

  Wearily she got to her feet again and went to stand at the entrance of the safehold. From the walls came a faint glow, illuminating the interior now. At the far end of the room the four stones rested in shadow Cidra tried to decide what she would do if she went into the room and accidentally triggered the illusions. She would need the Screamer. She went back to Severance and removed it from his loop. Then she tightened her grip around the pulser and stepped inside the chamber.

  Nothing happened, just as nothing had happened the first time she had entered. Staying close to the wall in case she needed to use its surface as a point of reference, she walked slowly around the room. She reached the small group of eggs at the back with out having touched off either the Ghost history or the horrific illusions. Facing the eggs. Cidra took aim and systematically shot each.

  At first nothing happened. The tough stone casing around the creatures seemed to absorb the energy of the pulser. She stepped closer and fired again. This time one of the shells cracked. When it fell apart, Cidra could see that the reptile inside was dead. She used the pulser to break open the rest of the shells so that she could assure herself that all the creatures were destroyed.

  A part of her wanted to clear the remains out of the safehold, but she didn’t feel up to the task. She would have to content herself with knowing that the eggs were no longer a menace. Cidra turned back toward the entrance, one palm still flattened on the curving wall, and trotted quickly toward the sunshine.

  Expecting a wave of illusions to block her path, she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she stepped outside without incident. It occurred to her that perhaps the illusions were somehow tied to the eggs. Perhaps a protective device. With the eggs destroyed the trap might not work any longer. As for the Ghosts’ history projection, perhaps it was simply so old that it had faded into oblivion after one last showing.

  There was no point speculating on either possibility. She had her hands full, tending Severance. For the next two hours she kept up the cooling baths. He slipped in and out of a troubled sleep, muttering occasionally and once in a while knocking her hands away in restless irritation.

  At the end of the two hours of bathing his fevered body, Cidra thought she detected some improvement. He seemed to be cooling down at last. She peeled off the bandage and examined the wounds. They were red and swollen but not alarmingly so. She sprayed more antiseptic on them and then covered them again with the plastic adhesive. Severance opened his eyes just as she was finishing the task. His gaze was clearer than it had been for hours.

  “Did I hurt you?” Cidra smiled, relieved to see something besides fever in his eyes. He still looked dazed and uncomprehending, but she could see him struggling to identify her.

  “How could you hurt me? You’re from Clementia.”

  Cidra shook her head at his logic and touched his temple. “You’re on the mend, Severance. Your fever is breaking.”

  “I didn’t take care of you. I almost got you killed.”

  “No, Severance. You saved my life. More than once.”

  He moved his head in restless denial. “Just like Jeude. Almost got you killed, just like Jeude.”

  “Hush,” she soothed. “You didn’t kill your brother.”

  “Should never have let him go to QED alone. He was too soft. Too gentle. Followed a distress signal right into the ground. Never realized he’d been tricked.”

  Cidra frowned. “Be easy, Severance.”

  “Had to kill Ra
cer. Racer set up the signal. Racer tried to take you from me. He would have hurt you, Cidra. He wanted to hurt you to hurt me.”

  “I know,” she whispered, wondering about what he had said earlier. “Racer drew your brother to his death with a fake distress signal?”

  “Racer murdered Jeude. Said he hadn’t meant to, but he did. And I never even knew until . . . until—” He broke off, clearly groping for some sense of time.

  “It’s all right, Severance. It’s all over. Everything’s over. Racer is dead.”

  “All my fault,” he muttered again. “I put you in danger. Just like I put Jeude in danger.”

  “Severance, listen to me. It is not your fault. You’ve taken care of everything. Racer is dead.”

  But he wasn’t listening. The gray eyes looked up at her with unnatural intensity. “I let Jeude get killed, and I almost let you get killed. You’re like him. I’m supposed to protect you. You and he both belong in Clementia.” His voice faded as his eyes began to close. “You’re like him.”

  Cidra stared down at his hard face as he drifted back into sleep. “No, Severance. You’re wrong. I’m not like Jeude.” Her eyes fell on the pulser that lay close at hand on the ground. “I’m not at all like Jeude.”

  She bathed him once more, but now she was certain that he had turned the corner. The fever was definitely subsiding. A damp, healing sweat filmed his skin. Cidra concentrated on getting Severance to drink plenty of water. Toward nightfall she stationed herself near the edge of the circle, slipped into the trance that made the pulser a part of her, and waited for another unwary hopper. Now she was amazed that anything as stupid as a hopper survived on Renaissance. The food chain was a complex thing. Right now she was sitting on the top of that chain: a reasonably well-adapted predator.