A World Too Near (11 page)

Quinn snatched the pipe from the old man’s hands. “I don’t like that term, Benhu.” He drowned the pipe bowl in the nearest cup of water.

Benhu scrambled to retrieve it, pulling up a stinking bowl of wet embers. He stared at Quinn blamefully.

Quinn didn’t trust the man any more than he liked him. And why trust Lord Oventroe, either? The lord claimed to want
converse
, but what of the Entire’s predicament—the storm walls that couldn’t be sustained without the Rose? He wasn’t sure that Benhu knew about that, and held silent on the topic.

“Water,” Helice croaked, and Benhu seemed to understand her accompanying gesture. He poured her a small drink in a bowl, helping her to sip.

Quinn said, “Did your boss think I’d trust you so easily, Benhu? Did he think I would come all this way only to have an old godman dogging my steps?”

Benhu was working on drying out the pipe, probing it with a stick and wad of cloth.

Quinn persisted. “Well, did he?”

Benhu snaked a look at him. “He said I should win you over.”

Helice was struggling to her feet. Benhu scrambled over to help her, chattering for her to lie down.

She swayed, but remained standing. “Where does a person take a pee around here?”

Quinn translated the request to Benhu, who pointed down the corridor toward the wastery and offered to take her there.

“Can find it myself,” Helice said. She walked away, wobbling, her blanket over her shoulders.

Benhu fussed with his wet pipe a moment. “I should have brought an extra.”

Quinn took Benhu by the front of his jacket and twisted the cloth close to the man’s neck. “I don’t want to hear about the pipe again. Start winning me over.” They glared at each other until Quinn won the staring contest and released Benhu, shoving him back against the wall.

Benhu cringed in the shadow of the taller man. He didn’t like this strutting Titus Quinn, but the man’s temper could get out of hand, and it was not his intention to take a beating. He inhaled deeply, trying to focus.
First, win
him over. Tell him
about his daughter.
But no instructions about what to do with the injured woman. That was a prickly problem—one the lord would expect him to solve. But how? Perhaps take a clue from Quinn himself. He wanted her gone. So, then. Leave her here? No, when discovered, she would raise alarms all over the sway. Benhu brightened with a new thought. Kill the woman? Release Quinn from this burden he obviously detested, proceed with the task the lord had set him. He drew himself up straight. There. Perhaps he could be creative, after all.

The elegance of this idea improved Benhu’s mood, and he settled into his story. “Your daughter,” he began. Quinn made eye contact. Oh yes, now the princeling would pay decent attention. “What would you say if I told you that your daughter is under the lord’s observation? Would you be happy to have news of her?”

“Yes.”

Benhu looked at the pipe longingly, but it was in no shape to light. If he was going to kill the woman, he’d certainly need a smoke to settle his nerves. Before and after. Yes, better and better, to rid the journey of a problem—a problem Titus Quinn was clearly unwilling to handle by himself. Maybe the man of the Rose had no stomach for killing.

As Quinn’s look became more menacing, Benhu hastened to say, “We know where she is, of course.”

“Even I know that much, Benhu. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Benhu held up a finger. “Mind, not all of what I can tell is pleasant.” The man was bound to be touchy on the subject, and Benhu wanted no outbursts. “The Inyx,” he went on. “You’ve heard she’s with them?” At a nod from Quinn, he continued, “That’s both good and bad. Good, that she’s a long way from the Ascendancy where the lords would have toyed with her. Bad, that you can’t get there unobserved. She’s fallen in with a band of Inyx that has a new leader. The leader is your daughter’s bonded mount. She rides the beast, though they are sentient, if you count herd beings who can’t talk. They live like animals. But she’s healthy, and riding the chief, and has managed to cajole him into getting her sight back.”

“She can see again?”

“So the lord says. She has some privileges as the chief’s rider. So the Tarig sent her a lord to fix her eyes, beyond what the Inyx can do, of course, they being without deep knowledge.” Benhu shrugged. “She’s bold, to make demands on Inyx and Tarig alike. And get by with it.”

“She’s well? Healthy?”

Benhu shrugged. “Yes, the lord bid me tell you. Happy, even.”

“That I doubt.”

Benhu glanced at the doorway, but the woman hadn’t returned. Benhu didn’t have a weapon. Perhaps a large stone could be used to cave in her skull. Or, better yet, borrow Quinn’s knife. Maybe the man wasn’t so scrupulous if someone else did the blood work.

Benhu looked into Quinn’s face, feeling contempt return toward this man of the Rose. He found himself needling: “Ever think your child would end up among criminals and barbarians?”

“Stick to the point, Benhu, or that pipe’s going where you won’t use it again.”

Benhu paused for dignity’s sake, then said, “She has a guard. A big Chalin who fights for her when she needs it. And she needs it, because she’s got a scheme going where every rider should be equal to their mount, saying how they communicate better mind-to-mind if everyone has rights. Not everyone approves, and her mount is full of the scars to prove it. So your girl is a troublemaker, Quinn. But the lord says she’s got a measure of safety, with a few followers who’ll protect her. It’s a good situation considering she has to live among the stinking beasts.”

“Can you get her out?”

“Out? Out of that sway? No, that would draw attention. Besides, the bright lords are watching her sway. They expect you to go there, of course. Try to be patient about the girl. When your side and ours come to agreements, you can ask for her. But for now, why should the Tarig grant you concessions? They’d rather sink you in the Nigh than look at you.”

“The Inyx creature that my daughter rides . . . he can sense what she’s thinking?”

“Of course.”

“Can the beast know I’m here, then? Can he read my thoughts?”

Benhu shook his head. “Not how it works. They can talk to each other across primacies, but not to the rest of us. Takes two of the beasts to get a strong connection. To read other sentients, they need to be close. You aren’t close.”

Quinn closed his eyes, trying to think straight. His heart had lifted to hear that Sydney was well—that she could see once more. But he was no closer to freeing her. This Benhu was worthless, no one to bargain with.

He murmured, “I want you to contact your master, Benhu. Now.” The first issue was Helice. Let Oventroe deal with her.

The stonewell computers weren’t used for communications, not that Quinn had ever seen, so that wasn’t an option. There must be some way for Benhu to report to the lord. Near the crevasse where the veil-of-worlds flickered, several boxy computational machines lay stacked on each other. The machines were shape processors, based on molecular computing, where biologically based molecules recognized patterns through shape-fitting, lining up like jigsaw puzzles and crystallizing out the answers. Quinn looked at the string of redstones around Benhu’s neck and wondered if one of those stones could be used to send Helice back.

A noise drew his attention. Helice stood at the entrance to the chamber, steadying herself. She stared at the veil-of-worlds, gleaming at the moment with an incandescent sheet of stars. “I’m not going in there again,” she announced.

She pushed away from the door and walked unsteadily toward them as they sat near the wall. “I know you’re planning to get rid of me. I know you think I can’t hold my own. But I’ve been thinking. Why not use my injuries as an excuse for me not to speak? A fire, the larynx damaged. It’s perfect. And I’d keep up; you wouldn’t have to carry me or fuss over me. If I fall behind, leave me.”

She stepped closer. “Please, Quinn.” She turned to Benhu. “Please, Benhu.”

So, she’d figured out the godman’s name. She turned to Quinn. “How do you say
please
in Lucent?”

“I’m not your language teacher, and I’m not your travel buddy, Helice. I’m leaving here in the morning, and you’re not coming along. I’m leaving you with Benhu, and you can live in this cave or cross over as you like. But I’m leaving. Alone.”

She stood watching him, trying to stand steadily, trying to control her emotions.

“Sit down for God’s sake,” Quinn said.

But she stayed put. After a moment she said, her voice soft, “I know you have great responsibilities. You have big endeavors on your mind. Believe me, I know. But I can help you in ways you can’t even imagine yet.”

He stared at her wondering what she might mean. “Like?”

She waved the question away. “We have time to talk. It’ll take us a long time to reach the Nigh. I’m not even sure Benhu
doesn’t
speak English. Are you?”

Quinn glanced at the phony godman, wondering this for the first time.

Helice went on. “It’s even possible something will happen to you, and then who’ll carry on? I can be your backup. Meanwhile I’ll be learning the language, picking up the manners. I can help you, Quinn. This is too important for just one person.”

“No,” he said, keeping eye contact.

She turned away, almost falling down. Then, standing in the center of the chamber, she turned back to him. “You arrogant son-of-a-bitch. You think you’re so irreplaceable.”

“This time maybe I am.”

Her
voice ratcheted up. “I just want you to know something, Quinn. I’d rather set my clothes on fire than go back into that nightmare crack. I risked my life to come here. It’s not going to be for nothing.”

“Super achieving again?”

“No, it’s not just that.” She reacted to the disdain he couldn’t conceal. “You are such a bastard, Titus. Do you think you’re the only one who can make sacrifices? Sacrifices for something worthwhile?” She staggered close to him, trembling, blood cutting a track down her chin. “You think you’re the only one who’s looking for something fine?”

“Look somewhere else, Helice.”

She shook her head, smiling a burned-out smile. “You aren’t the goddamned king of the world. Sometimes other people’s lives matter. Even I matter, Quinn. I
matter
.” She stopped, swaying on her feet.

He moved fast to catch her as she fell. Lowering her to the floor, he came close to her face, smelling putrefaction and ointment. He eased her down, putting her head in his lap. Benhu covered Helice with a blanket where she lay.

“Goddamn it,” she said, trying to control the pain. The tears festered in her burns.

“Salve,” Quinn told Benhu.

Benhu brought the jar, saying, “She’s a troublemaker, isn’t she? Makes lots of trouble, crying and ranting. Not good.”

Ignoring him, Quinn dipped his fingers in the balm and dabbed it in the lesions.

As she tried and failed to sit up, he muttered, “Take it easy, Helice.”

“Not easy,” she whispered. “Not easy. Don’t want easy.”

“No,” he said. “I can see that.”

As Benhu crouched nearby, frowning with worry, Quinn considered Helice’s proposal. He wondered if there was more to Helice Maki than the pampered, brainy snot he’d seen at Minerva. Maybe she wasn’t much better than that, but she had some courage.

She began to relax as the salve took effect. They huddled there on the floor with her head in his lap, Helice helpless and forced to depend on his goodwill. He had little to spare when it came to her. It was a damn miser- able situation and no good could come of it, even though Helice seemed to hunger after
something fine
. Damn the woman, damn her anyway.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest. Now and then she trembled with exhaustion and pain, but gritted her teeth against crying.

The woman was tough. But tough enough to make the trek to Ahnenhoon? Was she tough enough to stand before a Tarig and not quail, or to wear the cirque, if it came to that, and release the devouring nan? And if it came to Helice as a backup, would she sacrifice herself if necessary? He watched her as she slept. Wouldn’t anyone give their life for the Earth? He warred with himself over the answer.

The candles guttered into hot pools of wax, then cooled. When he rose, shifting her head and shoulders to a folded blanket for a pillow, Quinn had made up his mind. In the end he couldn’t decide what Helice would do on this journey, but she was coming along. He had no choice.

“She’s coming with us, Benhu,” he said.

Benhu pulled on his beard, frowning. “Is that wise, Excellency?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Your job is to make sure she passes as Chalin. Any mistakes, you’re to blame.”

“Yes Excellency, but . . .” The godman cut a glance at Helice. “But she’s badly burned. You can’t blame me if she dies of it. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Quinn was in no mood for his whining. “Is that what they told you about me? That I’m fair?”

Benhu could hardly answer such a question, and didn’t. But he nursed Helice through a long night, and by morning she was at least no worse.

Quinn waited three days for Helice to recuperate. Under Benhu’s ministrations her burns knitted swiftly, responding to biomolecular rejuvenation and her sheer determination.

When they finally emerged from the chamber, gusting winds buffeted them, bearing the sweet, lucid smell of ozone. Helice stared around her at the minoral, one of the most bizarre regions the realm presented to a newcomer.

Here, the land narrowed, with the storm walls converging on a darkened tip: the reach. In this extruded finger of the Entire, the towering storm walls churned. Skitters of lightning laced the terrible high walls like cracks showing through to magma. In explaining Entire geography to his Minerva handlers, Quinn had used the analogy of the Entire having five main treelike trunks radiating from a center. These were the primacies. On one side of each primacy, twigs called minorals grew out, ending in tips called reaches. From the minoral protruded nascences like root hairs. It all seemed so logical to him, but others, like Helice, couldn’t imagine it. Now she could test her conceptions against the real thing.