gotten wind that the boy was turning tricks and sent a couple of goons. Ara wondered if they were still in prison.
The ground car drove up to the same curb and the boy exited. Ara told the cabbie to pull over and let her out. Ara paid the fare and climbed out just in time to see Gretchen bump heavily into the boy. Harenn, a few steps away, watched from behind her veil.
“I’m so sorry,” Gretchen said with uncharacteristic politeness. “Goodness me, I almost knocked you over. Are you all right? Glory to the Unity.”
“Yeah, yeah, glory,” the boy replied. “Don’t touch me, lady.” And he hurried away.
Ara trotted up to her. “You didn’t touch him flesh-to-flesh, did you? Did you plant a transmitter?”
“No, and what do you think?”
“Got him,” Ben said. “You don’t have to run now.”
Ara gestured to Gretchen and Harenn. “Fan out. Harenn, since he hasn’t seen you, I want you to cross the street and get ahead of him. Gretchen, you stay a little further behind, and I’ll get closer. Pitr, follow as best you can and be ready to stand by. Trish, either grab a hotel room or go back to the ship and get into the Dream. Find us and follow us so you can whisper at people. Watch for the boy there, too, and for anything else that’s strange.”
“On my way, Mother,” Trish said.
“Got it, Mother,” Pitr said.
“Yes, Mother,” Harenn and Gretchen said in chorus. The three of them took up their positions and headed up the street in silent pursuit.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DREAM
[A] dream taught me this wisdom, and...I still fear I may wake up and find myself once more confined in prison.
—Pedro Calderon de la Barca
“...all right?”
Kendi tore his eyes away from the iron bar in his hand. Trish was standing above him. She wore a strap of brown cloth across her breasts and another across her loins. The outfit looked strange on her white, stick-like figure. How long had he been staring at the bar? He should have felt Trish’s presence instantly.
“Did you hear me, Kendi?” Trish said. “I asked if you were all right.”
“I’m okay.” He scrambled to his feet, bar in his hand. Where had it come from? He hadn’t called it up. Did it have something to do with the canyon or the kid?
“Mother Ara told me to watch the Dream for signs of the kid,” Trish said. “I think that thing—” she gestured at the canyon “—qualifies. Did it almost open up under your feet too?”
“Yeah. And there’s something in it that screams at you.”
“I heard.” Trish shuddered. “Is it the kid, do you think? Can you sense him?”
Kendi closed his eyes and stretched out his senses. Nothing. The ground showed no further signs of shaking, the scrubby vegetation was alive and healthy, and the tiny tickle that told him his drugs were wearing off began to itch behind his eyes.
“I don’t feel anything,” Kendi admitted.
“What’s the bar for?”
Kendi hefted the bar without answering. It didn’t belong here. It would disappear. One...two...three.
The bar remained, cool and heavy, in his hand. It was just like the bars across his cell in—
Kendi flung the bar away. It spun off and vanished into the distance.
“What was that about?” Trish asked.
“Nothing,” Kendi said. “Look, my drugs are wearing off. I’d better go, all right?”
Trish gave him an odd look. “Sure. I’ve got scouting to do. See you on the ship later.” And she vanished.
Kendi gathered his concentration. If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, let me leave the Dream.
His room on board the Post Script snapped into being. Kendi disentangled himself from the spear under his knee and dressed with care, wincing at his bruises and the pain in his ribs. Well, there was no reason not to use painkillers now. After a quick visit to the infirmary, Kendi felt much better and had decided to discuss the situation with someone.
“Peggy-Sue,” Kendi said, “locate Mother
The ground car drove up to the same curb and the boy exited. Ara told the cabbie to pull over and let her out. Ara paid the fare and climbed out just in time to see Gretchen bump heavily into the boy. Harenn, a few steps away, watched from behind her veil.
“I’m so sorry,” Gretchen said with uncharacteristic politeness. “Goodness me, I almost knocked you over. Are you all right? Glory to the Unity.”
“Yeah, yeah, glory,” the boy replied. “Don’t touch me, lady.” And he hurried away.
Ara trotted up to her. “You didn’t touch him flesh-to-flesh, did you? Did you plant a transmitter?”
“No, and what do you think?”
“Got him,” Ben said. “You don’t have to run now.”
Ara gestured to Gretchen and Harenn. “Fan out. Harenn, since he hasn’t seen you, I want you to cross the street and get ahead of him. Gretchen, you stay a little further behind, and I’ll get closer. Pitr, follow as best you can and be ready to stand by. Trish, either grab a hotel room or go back to the ship and get into the Dream. Find us and follow us so you can whisper at people. Watch for the boy there, too, and for anything else that’s strange.”
“On my way, Mother,” Trish said.
“Got it, Mother,” Pitr said.
“Yes, Mother,” Harenn and Gretchen said in chorus. The three of them took up their positions and headed up the street in silent pursuit.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DREAM
[A] dream taught me this wisdom, and...I still fear I may wake up and find myself once more confined in prison.
—Pedro Calderon de la Barca
“...all right?”
Kendi tore his eyes away from the iron bar in his hand. Trish was standing above him. She wore a strap of brown cloth across her breasts and another across her loins. The outfit looked strange on her white, stick-like figure. How long had he been staring at the bar? He should have felt Trish’s presence instantly.
“Did you hear me, Kendi?” Trish said. “I asked if you were all right.”
“I’m okay.” He scrambled to his feet, bar in his hand. Where had it come from? He hadn’t called it up. Did it have something to do with the canyon or the kid?
“Mother Ara told me to watch the Dream for signs of the kid,” Trish said. “I think that thing—” she gestured at the canyon “—qualifies. Did it almost open up under your feet too?”
“Yeah. And there’s something in it that screams at you.”
“I heard.” Trish shuddered. “Is it the kid, do you think? Can you sense him?”
Kendi closed his eyes and stretched out his senses. Nothing. The ground showed no further signs of shaking, the scrubby vegetation was alive and healthy, and the tiny tickle that told him his drugs were wearing off began to itch behind his eyes.
“I don’t feel anything,” Kendi admitted.
“What’s the bar for?”
Kendi hefted the bar without answering. It didn’t belong here. It would disappear. One...two...three.
The bar remained, cool and heavy, in his hand. It was just like the bars across his cell in—
Kendi flung the bar away. It spun off and vanished into the distance.
“What was that about?” Trish asked.
“Nothing,” Kendi said. “Look, my drugs are wearing off. I’d better go, all right?”
Trish gave him an odd look. “Sure. I’ve got scouting to do. See you on the ship later.” And she vanished.
Kendi gathered his concentration. If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, let me leave the Dream.
His room on board the Post Script snapped into being. Kendi disentangled himself from the spear under his knee and dressed with care, wincing at his bruises and the pain in his ribs. Well, there was no reason not to use painkillers now. After a quick visit to the infirmary, Kendi felt much better and had decided to discuss the situation with someone.
“Peggy-Sue,” Kendi said, “locate Mother
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