Sharon Shinn - Gateway

“Hey,” she said, “I think you live really close to where I live back on Earth.” Her voice trailed off. “That is so weird.”

“Ombri said there would be a lot of points in common be tween our worlds.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think that I’d be staying in practically the same neighborhood where I live back home.”

Kalen smiled down at her. “Does that make you feel a little better?” he asked. “Like you’re where you’re supposed to be?”

She couldn’t help a slight laugh. “Kalen,” she said, “nothing will make me feel like this is where I belong.”

Once Daiyu was oriented to the river, though, she did start to develop a better sense of how Shenglang was laid out, which made her more cheerful. They disembarked from the trolley within sight of the red gate and slowly strolled toward the river, their shoes crunching over the yin-and-yang pattern of the decorative stone mosaic. The riverfront was crowded with workers hauling cargo to and from small boats and idle onlookers watching the water slip by. A steady stream of pedestrians crossedaseriesofnarrowbridgesthatledfromtheeasternside of the river, where the land appeared to be dense with houses, vehicles, and commercial buildings. Daiyu thought it might be even more populous than the city on this side of the river.

She automatically looked north, where she would have expected the symmetrical scallops of Eads Bridge to connect Missouri and Illinois. Instead there was a high, thick structure spanning the river that looked like a combination dam and sluice. Three monstrous gates had been lifted from the central portion of the bridge so that water streamed unimpeded past the remaining supports, carrying the occasional boat on its surface. Daiyu guessed that when the gates were lowered, the river slowly filled up behind the dam. She couldn’t imagine why.

She looked up at Kalen. “Okay. This is where you explain everything you’ve said about working on the river.”

He guided her toward a stone bench that overlooked the water. She settled beside him and was grateful for the erratic breeze that wandered off the river. It wasn’t even noon yet, and already the day was heating up.

“The Zhongbu River washes down from mountain ranges way up north,” he said. “It brings all sorts of minerals and stones with it-particularly qiji gems.”

“What gems?”

“Qiji,”he repeated. It sounded like he was saying scheet-schee. He went on, “The word means ‘miracle.’ Whenever they dam the river, stonepickers-like me-wade out into the muck and pick up every stone we think might be a qiji-”

“You mean you can’t tell?” Daiyu interrupted.

He shook his head. “In their raw state they look like any common river rock. So we bag up as many as we can, and we take them to the vendors to be tested, and they pay us for the ones we find.”

“How many qiji gems do you find on an average day?” she asked.

“Maybe two. A good day would be five.”

She appraised him. “And I’m guessing two stones don’t pay all that well.”

“Enough to live on,” he said.

“How often do they dam the river?”

“Usually two or three times a week.” He pointed at a rickety tower set about ten yards back from the river. It looked like a lighthouse made of scaffolding, but at the very top, instead of a light, Daiyu could see a huge bronze bell. She glanced across the river to see its twin on the eastern bank. Kalen said,“They ring the big bells the night before so all the stonepickers know to come work the next morning.”

“And how long does the dam hold? Because I’d think that the water would start pouring over pretty fast.”

“Generally you get about half a day. But when it’s time to get out, they ring the small bells-you probably can’t see them from here. The whole time you’re working, you’re listening for that sound, because they wait till the last possible moment to send the signal. Sometimes there’s already water spilling over the top of the dam.”

“I think I’d be working as close to the riverbank as I could!”

He shook his head. “Most qiji gems can be found in the middleoftheriver.You’d starve if you only worked the shallow ends.”

“I’d probably starve anyway if I was stranded in this world,” Daiyu said under her breath.

“Not now that I’ve found you,” he returned with a smile.

A young cangbai man about Kalen’s age had approached whiletheytalked.“Hey,Kalen,”hesaid.“Can’tstayawayfrom the river, can you?”

“Neithercanyou,”Kalensaid,grinning.Theystoodup,and Kalen made introductions. “Gabe, this is Daiyu. She’s a friend from another city.”

She saw Gabe give her a quick appraisal, note her Chinese heritage, and decide that she couldn’t be wealthy Han or she wouldn’t be with Kalen. He gave her a conditional smile.

“How long are you here visiting?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure yet,” she replied.

Gabe’s smile widened a little. “You could go stonepicking with Kalen next time they shut off the river. You wouldn’t have tobenervous.I’d make sure the bells called you back before the river ran free.”

“Gabe’s the ringer on this side of the river,” Kalen explained.

Gabe turned to Daiyu, his eyes alight. “Hey, you want to see the bells?”

She glanced at the open tower. “I can see them. The big one, anyway.”

“No, I mean up close. Come on. I’ll show you.”

She looked at Kalen, who nodded an affirmative, so she said, “Why not?”

It was a short walk to the bell tower but it was a long climb to the top, up a truly terrifying set of circular metal steps that spiraled around the outside of the scaffold. “Are these safe?” Daiyu demanded as she took her first few steps behind Gabe. She clung to the rail, convinced that the whole tower had just swayed under their combined weight.

“Sure, of course they are,” Gabe said. “Just make sure you hold on.”

So, fighting vertigo the whole way, Daiyu slowly followed him up. The top portion of the tower was almost a room, with a half wall, a roof, and a narrow catwalk circling the interior to serveasafloor. It was barely wide enough to stand on, with no interior barrier to keep any careless visitor from tumbling down the center of the tower to the ground below. Daiyu stood on the top step and refused to release her hold on the railing.

Kalen passed her and moved with care around the catwalk, but Gabe skipped across the boards with the agility of the fearless. He pointed to a thick woven rope that stretched from the monster bell to an iron tether embedded in the far wall.

“That’s the rope that starts the bronze bell clanging,” he said. “It’s heavy, so you need a few good pulls before the clapper hits, and you’d be surprised how much strength it takes to keep it moving. Once it pulled me off my feet and I was swinging back and forth over the open ground, trying to land on one side or the other.”

Daiyu figured this story had an equal chance of being true or false, but she didn’t really care. She didn’t like heights, and she was pretty sure the whole tower had trembled again. “What about the little bells?” she asked.

Gabe danced even farther away, hopping over what appeared to be a small break in the continuity of the catwalk, to point at a much thinner rope tied to a second hook. The other end was attached to a circle of small bells that looked as if they were made of chrome swirled with crystal. “They don’t weigh hardly anything at all,” he said. “A little kid could pull them. A girl. You could.”

She smiled faintly. “Why didn’t somebody design the tower so you could reach these ropes from the ground?”