baby-shit green pills he dishes out to you.”
Jasper opened his mouth to say something viperous, but stopped. The young Assimilant scowled openly at them. In response, Jasper reached down to stroke the cool silver medal on his chest. He scowled back.
Losacko heaved a disgruntled sigh and looked sideways at both of them, then he grunted and got to his feet. “Well, Jacoby, it’s been nice seeing you again. Come around next week. We’ll talk some more.”
He gave Jasper a worried look as he hobbled away toward the busy street below. A traffic jam crowded the intersection. People honked horns in irritation. Jasper watched Chaim go, then studied the two commuter buses stuck in the crosswalk. On the side of one of them a green and red hologram glared. An elderly Gamant woman with straggly hair and beady eyes held up the sacred triangle of the faith, sucking it like a baby’s bottle.
Jasper glowered at the ugly Assimilant.
Mikael woke panting from a terrible dream. In it, people ran, screaming, trying to get away from something—but he didn’t know what. He’d hidden between two big spikes of rock that people in the dream had called the Horns of the Calf. He’d been a lot older in the dream, maybe twenty or so and a pretty woman had been with him. She’d had long curly brown hair and brown eyes. Ships swooped through the yellow skies around them, firing down to kill people.
Mikael lifted a heavy hand to brush black hair out of his eyes. Tiny blue and white lights winked throughout the room. He blinked lazily at them. It was funny. He could almost hear them talking to him, but their voices were too high and soft to make out the words.
“What?” he asked sleepily. “What did you say? I can’t hear you. Is it about the dream?”
The flashes grew brighter, bursting like fireworks—then they died. The room dimmed again. It reminded him of the silver sheet they put over dead people before they buried them. He looked at the shadows for a while, seeing how they pooled in the corners.
He felt so tired. Maybe that nasty drug they’d given him wasn’t working? He groggily rolled over to his side and the Mea Shearim that the angel Metatron had given him fell out of his brown robe to lie like a blue marble on the pillow. His people called it a sacred gate to God. His grandfather had worn this one for hundreds and hundreds of years. In his mind, Mikael could see his grandfather’s wrinkled face smiling at him. His heart ached with longing. He had vague memories of hearing his grandfather talk to him just after Captain Tahn and that mean doctor had left. What had his grandfather said? Something about a man named Jeremiel Baruch coming aboard. He was supposed to tell Mister Baruch something … but he couldn’t remember exactly what.
He snaked a finger up to touch first the golden chain of his Mea, then the ball itself. In a brilliant flash of light, a blue gleam like fire spread over his walls.
“Mikael,” his grandfather said in a soothing voice. “You go to sleep now. Don’t worry about the dreams.”
“Can you make them go away, Grandpa?”
“Yes, for a while — then we have to talk more about Mister Baruch and the coming of the Antimashiah. But for now, close your eyes, grandson. That’s it. Good. Sleep … sleep …”
Mikael heaved a deep sigh and rolled over onto his back again. He felt floaty, like he wasn’t really in his cabin. He started dreaming again, and found himself lying on the floor of his bedchamber on Kayan, wrestling with his grandfather, laughing. In the golden light of the oil lamps, he could see his mother’s round face where she sat on his bed. She gazed at him with love in her eyes and Mikael thought his heart would burst from the happiness….
“Grandpa?” he asked so softly he could barely hear himself. “Can I stay home for a long time? I’m pretty lonely here on this big ship.”
“As long as you need to, Mikael. I’ll stand guard to keep the other dreams
Jasper opened his mouth to say something viperous, but stopped. The young Assimilant scowled openly at them. In response, Jasper reached down to stroke the cool silver medal on his chest. He scowled back.
Losacko heaved a disgruntled sigh and looked sideways at both of them, then he grunted and got to his feet. “Well, Jacoby, it’s been nice seeing you again. Come around next week. We’ll talk some more.”
He gave Jasper a worried look as he hobbled away toward the busy street below. A traffic jam crowded the intersection. People honked horns in irritation. Jasper watched Chaim go, then studied the two commuter buses stuck in the crosswalk. On the side of one of them a green and red hologram glared. An elderly Gamant woman with straggly hair and beady eyes held up the sacred triangle of the faith, sucking it like a baby’s bottle.
Jasper glowered at the ugly Assimilant.
Mikael woke panting from a terrible dream. In it, people ran, screaming, trying to get away from something—but he didn’t know what. He’d hidden between two big spikes of rock that people in the dream had called the Horns of the Calf. He’d been a lot older in the dream, maybe twenty or so and a pretty woman had been with him. She’d had long curly brown hair and brown eyes. Ships swooped through the yellow skies around them, firing down to kill people.
Mikael lifted a heavy hand to brush black hair out of his eyes. Tiny blue and white lights winked throughout the room. He blinked lazily at them. It was funny. He could almost hear them talking to him, but their voices were too high and soft to make out the words.
“What?” he asked sleepily. “What did you say? I can’t hear you. Is it about the dream?”
The flashes grew brighter, bursting like fireworks—then they died. The room dimmed again. It reminded him of the silver sheet they put over dead people before they buried them. He looked at the shadows for a while, seeing how they pooled in the corners.
He felt so tired. Maybe that nasty drug they’d given him wasn’t working? He groggily rolled over to his side and the Mea Shearim that the angel Metatron had given him fell out of his brown robe to lie like a blue marble on the pillow. His people called it a sacred gate to God. His grandfather had worn this one for hundreds and hundreds of years. In his mind, Mikael could see his grandfather’s wrinkled face smiling at him. His heart ached with longing. He had vague memories of hearing his grandfather talk to him just after Captain Tahn and that mean doctor had left. What had his grandfather said? Something about a man named Jeremiel Baruch coming aboard. He was supposed to tell Mister Baruch something … but he couldn’t remember exactly what.
He snaked a finger up to touch first the golden chain of his Mea, then the ball itself. In a brilliant flash of light, a blue gleam like fire spread over his walls.
“Mikael,” his grandfather said in a soothing voice. “You go to sleep now. Don’t worry about the dreams.”
“Can you make them go away, Grandpa?”
“Yes, for a while — then we have to talk more about Mister Baruch and the coming of the Antimashiah. But for now, close your eyes, grandson. That’s it. Good. Sleep … sleep …”
Mikael heaved a deep sigh and rolled over onto his back again. He felt floaty, like he wasn’t really in his cabin. He started dreaming again, and found himself lying on the floor of his bedchamber on Kayan, wrestling with his grandfather, laughing. In the golden light of the oil lamps, he could see his mother’s round face where she sat on his bed. She gazed at him with love in her eyes and Mikael thought his heart would burst from the happiness….
“Grandpa?” he asked so softly he could barely hear himself. “Can I stay home for a long time? I’m pretty lonely here on this big ship.”
“As long as you need to, Mikael. I’ll stand guard to keep the other dreams
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