Jo Clayton: Fire in the Sky

“Something you have to see, Goлs Koraka. We don’t know what it means.”

The sky was filled with golden bells blowing east on the high airstreams-first a scattering, one, two, half a dozen, the sun shining through their translucent veils, then rank upon rank of Eolt, turning the western sky bright amber with their numbers.

“You don’t think about there being so many of them,” Shadith said. “A world’s a big place and they get lost among the clouds.”

They stood in the middle of the Enclave, looking, caught by the beauty of this strange migration. Shadith heard the scrape of a foot behind her, looked around to see Marrin standing there, his face filled with wonder as he stared up at the Eolt.

The Goлs shook himself free from his astonishment. “What are they doing? This against us? Where are they going?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say they’re going to attack the… what do they call it… the Kushayt.”

“Yes.” Marrin’s voice vibrated with conviction. “And they’re going to die at it. So much glory lost…” He turned to the Goлs. “You’ve got to do something. You’ve got to help them.”

The Goлs contemplated him a moment. “We’ll discuss this inside.” He turned his head. “Thofor, inform me immediately of any alteration in their progress.”

Koraka laced his long fingers together, stared at them a moment, then lifted his head and smiled wearily at Marrin, his threat teeth hidden. “If you mean, Aide, that we should provide weapons to the locals, you should think again.”

“Of course I don’t mean that.” Marrin leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes intense. “Send guards with them. Send me, if there’s no one else you can spare. A flier and the strongest firepower you have. At least it would be something.”

Koraka’s ears came forward. “You, Aide? Aren’t you forbidden armed assault by University bylaws or something like that?”

“I don’t consider this assault, but self-defense. When the Chave put a price on my head, they gave me that right.”

“Yes, that’s an argument that has a good chance of floating. Now explain to me why a pacific Scholar from University would be a help rather than a hindrance.”

“I was fifth male heir to the Baron Ineca of Picabral and I survived past puberty.”

“Ah. Succinct and convincing. Also rather astonishing, considering your present circumstances. Very well. I don’t see any problem with supplying your needs. A matter of public service, as it were. If the ottodoc certifies you. You came out of there in a very short time. As to guards, I don’t think I’m able to spare any. I’m expecting an attack from the Chave any day now. Rude and crude as they are, we’re considerably outnumbered and outmuscled by that lot. I wouldn’t want to face them outside these walls. Or inside, as the case may be.”

“Pinched nerve and ruptured disk. Few more this and thats. Didn’t take much fixing.”

“I’ll still require a formal analysis, a thorough work-up. I’m sure you understand why.”

Shadith sat looking at her hands. There wasn’t really any point in picking at her deficiencies. If this business had taught her anything it was that if she wanted to be fully alive, to feel passionately about anything, she was going to have to spend a lot of time walking the edge. Might as well get a start at it. “I’ll be going along also,” she said. “You’ll need me, Marrin, I have credibility with the Eolt. They’re strong and dangerous, though I admit I find what I know to be true hard to believe when I look at them.”

“Dangerous?” The Goлs frowned. “How?”

“Stings. Capable of killing a man. Probably other defenses, but no one spoke of those.”

“Interesting.”

“They understand quite well their vulnerability so I doubt you’ll have any problems.” She stood. “I’ll take your offer of a bath and a nap, Goлs Koraka. And you, Marrin, you get to have your body cells assayed. Shall we say leave in three hours?”

The Eolt sang as they swept across the land toward the Bakuhl Sea, great crashing chords of sound that filled the sky and had a practical purpose as well since the air sucked in and expelled drove them even faster toward the killing field of Melitoлh. They flew high and swift, like golden leucocytes in the air veins of the world, swelling with the sunlight. A thousand and a thousand Eolt in the Bйluchar way of saying many beyond counting, filling the sky to the horizon and beyond.

When the flikit rose from the Enclave to join the flight, Eolt began converging on it, like birds mobbing an intruder-until Shadith stood. Hands clutching the top of the windshield, she sang, her voice soaring, yet tiny against the great organ beats of the Eolt. It was enough. They knew her and went back to their single-minded surge toward the water.

Shadith fell back into her seat, reached for the water bottle, sucked greedily at the nipple.

Marvin shivered. “Spooky.” He slapped the accelerod in all the way, and the small dark flikit leaped ahead, racing to catch up with the Eolt, then pass the front ranks of the throng.

Ceam stretched out on the limb, managed to focus the ocular without falling off. He scanned the mesuch fort, looking for anything that would give him a clue about the seethe of activity inside. After the firing of Dordan-that-was and the crippling of the airwagons, Tech and Drudge had been called behind the walls. The crawlers sat empty and dead in the mountains; the Keteng prison was abandoned. Maybe Ilaцrn had pulled off the coup after all. No way of telling. Except…

Three of the guards came trotting along the wall and positioned themselves behind slotted shields beside the gate. A small section of the Gate swung open and four male Drudges stumped out, one in an improvised harness linked to a crude sledge which bumped along behind him. Two guards came with them, clanking in armor, heads enclosed in glass, heavy dark weapons cradled in their arms with the tenderness of men cuddling their first bores.

One of the guards grunted something, Ceam couldn’t make out the word, but the Drudge in the harness dropped to a squat and the other three stood hipshot and shoulders rounded while the guard moved to a large kerre, burned through the trunk with his cutter.

Ceam folded the ocular, eased it down inside his shirt, lay very still, watching the mesuch.

The second guard prowled about, head turning nervously, weapon in his hand. When he heard a rustle as some bitty nose twitcher scurried through the leaves, he spun round, dropped into a crouch and sent a burning beam cutting through the brush. There was a smell of roasted meat and burned hair. He went over, kicked the charred carcass and cursed it, then went back to his prowling.

The cut was so quick and clean, the tree shivered a little, but didn’t fall over until one of the Drudges slammed his fist into it. The guard cut the tree in chunks and the Drudges stacked the chunks on the sledge until they had a tall pile of green, sappy wood.

The other Drudges attached lines to the sledge and with the first leaning into his harness, they dragged the piled wood back to the road and into the mesuch fort.

With a grin that threatened his ears, Ceam wriggled backward along the limb, went dropping down the tree and ran toward the Fen, the bearer of the best news he could imagine. If the mesuch had to use wood for heat and cooking and muscle to drag the sledge, Ilaцrn had done the job. He’d killed the fort.

“Cursed clear day.” Marrin started into a wide circle round the Kushayt. I suppose they’d know we’re here anyway, the flikit screams at scanners.”

Shadith shifted the viewfield of the binocs along the top of the eight-sided wall. “Marrin, at least thirty guards on patrol down there and they’re all armored. Visors shut. What’s going on?”