Jean Lorrah - Flight to Savage Empire

“Really,” Astra tried to protest, the words clogging her swollen throat, “it’s nothing. Just a cold-”

“Cold!” Claudia exclaimed. “Cant you Read for yourself how swollen your tonsils are? Child, you have a septic throat-you must be delirious with fever not to realize how serious it is-and if we don’t get you isolated, half the Academy could be down with it. Astra-are you trying to kill us all?”

Red.

The whole world was fiery red. Astra stumbled through heat and pain, seeking the coolness of winter.

She fell to her hands and knees in a narrow lane-Zanos appeared and helped her to her feet. They clung to each other as the ground shook even more violently than it had the day they met. An eerie laugh, louder than the earthquakes rumble, caused her to look toward the mouth of the alley-to see the sorcerer Lenardo laughing at their terror.

He raised his hands. Sunfire lit him from behind, throwing his face into shadow as he flung lightning at Astra and Zanos.

The gladiator put out his hand and warded off the attack, turning the blazing missiles to harmless rainbows, lighting the face of the sorcerer in lurid tones.

It was no longer Lenardo, but Vortius! In the midst of the dream, the transformation seemed to hold great significance, but as the colors faded, so did Astra’s conviction.

She was lying in a hospital bed, so weak that she could hardly Read at all. Concerned faces of healers floated in and out of her range of vision, blurred and wavering. She struggled for breath, her throat raw, her chest aching as she fought for air.

Finally, Master Portia stood at the foot of her bed,

dressed all in white, carrying a baby wrapped in cloth of gold, but pale and deathly still.

“I’m sorry,” Portia said coldly.

“My baby!” Astra cried. “Please! Please let me have my child!”

“The baby is dead,” Portia told her.

Tears came to Astra’s eyes. “No! It can’t be!”

“If you refuse to believe me, ‘ Portia said, “Read for yourself. “

With great effort, Astra focused her powers-

The baby wailed.

The sound grew, encompassing the world, a universe of golden light, realm of the Sun God. He reached down to touch Astra’s chest, letting cool fire flow into her. Gentle, cooling darkness lovingly embraced her, carrying her away from pain to a place of welcome rest…

Astra woke in a strange bed, still very weak, but nonetheless feeling good . The pain was gone from her chest and throat, and her mind felt clear. She was in a small, dimly lit infirmary room. To her right, an apprentice healer was asleep in a chair. Astra Read outward, and found that she could Read a considerable distance, although nowhere near her usual range.

The young healer awoke with a start, and barely managed to suppress a gasp of surprise. “You’re awake!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “Oh, thank the gods! You were so close to death, first with fever and pneumonia, and then the coma-”

“How long have I been here?” Astra demanded. It couldn’t have been more than a day or two.

“Three weeks!” the young healer said.

Even after Master Claudia confirmed it, Astra found it difficult to believe she had lost that much time from her life. Her septic throat had spread infection to her lungs and brought her to death’s door, the healers told her-and then, two days ago, she had gone into a coma, and they had feared brain fever.

But the infection had cleared, the fever had gone, and-

“We’ve never seen anything like this,” one of the healers told her. “We find no trace of infection, but you should rest here for a few days to build back your strength.”

In her weakened state, Astra was in no mood to argue. Her first priority was food, and she astonished the healers by gulping down the gruel they brought and demanding something more satisfying. She had never been so hungry in her life!

Then she lay back and remembered her strange fever dreams. They were no longer clear in her mind, but a few images still haunted her. She fell asleep before she could try to make sense of them.

The following day, her strength returning, Astra was allowed to have visitors. The first one was Tressa.

“Enjoying your vacation, Astra?” she asked glibly as she entered, then dropped her false smile as soon as the door was closed. “Don’t Read!” she whispered sharply. “They’re supposed to grant privacy to recovering patients, so it should be safe to talk for a short time.’

“Talk about what?” Astra demanded, her apprehension aroused as always by Tressa’s conspiratorial attitude. “What has happened now?”

“I didn’t think they’d tell you, but you must know: another Master died two days ago-Master Julius, the head of the hospital in Termoli. Portia had him retested-and failed !”

Astra stared at her. “But he was a healer for longer than I’ve been in this world!”

“I know,” Tressa nodded sagely, “but that didn’t save him from Portia’s wrath. He was supposed to be married off to blunt his powers-but he chose to take poison instead.”

Astra looked away, fighting to keep her Reading from manifesting and giving away her upset to other nearby Readers.

Tressa touched her arm. ” Now will you listen to me?” she all but pleaded. “We need each other-”

“To do what?” Astra snapped. “Start civil war among the Readers? Use extortion against the Masters?

Where will it end, Tressa? In the destruction of the whole Reader system?”

Tressa drew back-even without Reading, Astra could see astonishment and anger fighting in her face.

And Astra understood why: Tressa was right that something had to be done-yet how could a pair of Magister Readers kept strictly under Portia’s thumb do anything but destroy themselves if they attempted to expose the Master of Masters?

Before she could point that out, Tressa stood, and left without another word.

Astra fought down tears of frustration-and dread. What was the right thing to do? Master Julius had obviously seen no way to fight Portia-or else he had tried and failed. But Tressa was right that Portia couldn’t live forever; perhaps the young Readers could just pretend to notice nothing, and wait it out until eventually Portia was gone. And if her successor was equally corrupt? Well, they could deal with that when and if it happened.

Astra didn’t believe it could happen. The Academy system was set up so that Readers could not be corrupted by power. All their needs were cared for, but they were not allowed to own property or hold office. Portia was an anomaly. Perhaps she had bribed or threatened some Readers, like Darien and Primus-or perhaps she had just allowed people like Vortius to do so?

What was Portia’s connection with Vortius?

The next day brought solitude and boredom to the rapidly recovering patient, and she decided to test her powers. Carefully positioning her body on the bed, she left it, reveling in the feeling of freedom. She drifted through the infirmary to the maternity rooms.

Many women of Tiberium came to the Readers for care during pregnancy; usually one of the midwives went to a woman’s home when she gave birth, but if it was judged that the birth would be difficult, the woman was admitted a few days before her child was due.

Thus there was only one patient in the maternity section. Astra was about to “move” on past without prying, according to the rules granting privacy to patients, when the young woman’s grief reached out to her errant powers, capturing her attention against her will.

The woman had lost her child. She lay tensely on the bed, her mind futilely circling in grief. Astra was forcefully reminded of her fever dream-