Dark Universe

“I don’t know,” he managed.

For a moment he had almost generated interest in the fact that she was here and zivving. And that now was his chance to listen closely and perhaps hear whether there was a lessness of something around her while she zivved. But his purpose faded away in another jarring shiver.

Della closed the curtain securely behind her and came over. He turned his head and coughed and she knelt before him, feeling the heat in his arms and face. And he heard her features twist with concern.

But she pushed the expression aside for something that was evidently more urgent. “Jared, I’m sure the Adviser knows you’re a Zivver!” she whispered. “He hasn’t come out and said so, but he keeps reminding everybody how remarkable your senses are!”

Jared swayed forward, caught himself and sat there trembling and perspiring, his head roaring, spi

“Don’t you hear why he made you shoot at that target among the hot springs?” she went on. “He knows what too much heat does to a Zivver! He was just trying to find out if you—”

The girl’s words faded into oblivion as he toppled forward off the bench.

When finally he awoke, there was the waning taste in his mouth of medicinal mold and the vague memory of having been forced to swallow the mushy substance several times.

Too, he sensed that during the entire period — or was it longer? — he had lain semiconscious in the Wheel’s grotto, Kind Survivoress had tried to force her way back into his delirious dreams. Perhaps she had even succeeded. But he could recall neither her successful intrusion nor the dreams themselves.

Now he felt only an i

Gradually, he became aware of restrained breathing at the other end of the grotto and recognized the rhythm and depth of the breaths as Della’s.

There was the firm, supple sound of thigh and calf muscles working together as she paced — nervously, he could tell by the erratic steps — to the curtain and back again.

Then she came abruptly over to the slumber ledge and shook him desperately. “Jared, wake up!”

He could tell from the urgency in her voice that she had been trying to arouse him for some time.

“I’m awake.”

“Oh, thank Light!” Some of her hair had come out of the band that held it tightly behind her head and had fallen across her face. She brushed it aside and he got a clearer impression of smooth, precise features that were taut with solicitude.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” she went on in a strained whisper. “The Adviser’s convinced Uncle Noris you’re a Zivver! They’re going to—”

There was the sound of nearby conversation in the outside world and Jared heard the soft current of air swirl around her face as she jerked her head toward the curtain, then back again.

“They’re coming!” she warned. “Maybe we can slip out before they get here!”

He tried to rise but fell back down, weak and puzzled, as he suddenly realized the girl didn’t customarily bend an ear toward an interesting noise, as everyone else did. She always kept her face pointed directly at anything that held her attention. Which meant she didn’t ziv with her ears! But, then, what did she ziv with?

The voices outside came more clearly through the curtain now.

Adviser: “Of course I’m dead certain he’s a Zivver! As good a marksman as he is, he couldn’t hit a simple stationary target in the ma

Wheel: “It does seem incriminating.”

Adviser: “And what about Aubrey? We sent him out to cover over that silent sound the monster left on the wall outside. That was two periods ago and he’s been missing ever since. Who was the last one to hear him?”

Wheel, coughing hoarsely: “Byron says that when he ran back into the world, Fenton was still out there with Aubrey.”

Adviser, sneezing: “There you are! And if you need any more proof that Fenton’s a Zivver who has conspired with the monsters, you have one of our basic beliefs to go by.”

Wheel: “The one that says any Survivor who consorts with Cobalt or Strontium will become deathly sick.”

They stepped deliberately toward the grotto entrance.

Wheel, with a sniffle: “What’ll we do with him?”

Adviser: “The Pit’ll hold him for the moment.” Another sneeze. “Being a Zivver, he’ll be worth something as a hostage, no doubt.”

When they drew the curtain aside Jared heard several armed Protectors taking their posts outside the grotto.

Wheel Anseim came and stood beside Jared, edging Della aside. “Has he made any wakeful noises yet?”

“He’s not a Zivver!” she pleaded. “Let him alone!”

Jared heard that her face was turned directly toward the Wheel. And again he caught the fleeting impression of her hand brushing hair away from her forehead — away from her eyes, actually.

And now he remembered that just before she had handed him the tubular object the monsters had left behind, she had brought it up before her and held it on a level with her face.

It was her eyes that she was zivving with!

Anselm seized his arm and shook him roughly. “All right — up off that ledge! We can hear you’re awake!”

Feebly, Jared struggled to his feet. Lorenz seized his other arm, but he shook off the grip.

“Protectors!” the Adviser shouted anxiously.

And the guards hurried in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Although he hadn’t thought it possible, the Upper Level Punishment Pit was worse than the one in Jared’s own world. It occurred to him that it would be hard to imagine a more terrible penalty for wrongdoing. As a detention facility, it was escapeproof. The ledge on which he lay was fully two body lengths below the surface. And it was much narrower than his shoulders, so that an arm and leg had to dangle over the abyss.

Lowered there by rope, he lay motionless for hundreds of heartbeats — until his limbs had become numb. Then, cautiously, he had dropped one of his clickstones into the hole. It had fallen — fallen — fallen. And many breaths later, after he had given up hope of listening to the impact, there was the faintest kerplunk he had ever heard.

From remote distances came the sounds of late period activity — children at play after their Familiarization session, ma

Eventually, the echo caster was turned off for the sleep period and, still later, Della came.

On a cord she lowered a shell filled with food. Then she lay with her head overhanging the mouth of the Pit.

“I almost convinced Uncle Noris you couldn’t be a Zivver,” she whispered disappointedly, “until that epidemic got him excited all over again.”

“That sneezing and coughing?”

The steady flow of her voice wavered as she nodded her head. “They ought to be taking mold, like we did. But Lorenz’s telling them it won’t work against Radiation sickness.”

She fell silent and he let the ma

The general configuration was soft and confident. Her hair, slicked back from her forehead, had a pleasant sound and gave her face a sleek, delicate tonal balance. Somehow the total impression had much in common with the wistful music she had stroked from the hanging stones. And he fully heard now how desirable she was for Unification.

He brought another shelled crayfish to his mouth, but paused when he realized that even now she must be zivving. Again he let the bowl strike rock to produce more sounding echoes. And he heard that her face was directed fixedly toward him. He could almost feel the intense steadiness of her eyes.