Farfetch

"Well, they're Raichmat zunre, and Raichmat was of Shoshunri's School of Efficacious Helplessness, so naturally everyone here is biased in—" He sat bolt upright. "That's it! But neither Threntisn nor I have applied it consistently!" He glanced at her. "What's wrong?"

School of Efficacious Helplessness? "I made that up! I made that silly phrase up!" And she recounted her insight while watching the lightning.

"You've done a lot of reading. You must have—"

"No! I'd remember something like that!"

"Takora was trained by Raichmat, and you seem to have internalized her from my memories. It's puzzling, but no human has ever—"

She lost track of his words, assembling fragile threads of memory. Could it really be? The preposterous conviction grew beyond all reason. She told herself the Dushau knew what they were talking about—they didn't reincarnate. She wasn't even sure ephemerals did. Maybe everybody doesn't always–but somehow, I once was Takora. I was never Desdinda–this is totally different. I'm not Takora now, but once I was her.

She looked over at Jindigar, who'd fallen asleep waiting for her to reply to something. I'm out of my mind! He'd never believe it, I don't!

Other consequences crowded into her head—after being Center, you couldn't go back into the Oliat. There had to be some reason for that rule—had she caused her problem with Desdinda by breaking an Oliat rule? Or didn't the rule carry from one lifetime to another–but Dushau didn't reincarnate, so how could they have multilife rules?

Krinata was still chasing the illogic around in circles when it got so dark, they had to wake Jindigar and leave the river to the nightstalkers. Jindigar walked back to the Dushau compound, weary but seeming stronger. Perhaps tomorrow there'd be time to discuss her wild notions.

But the next morning, she woke to the sounds of women poking up the fire and washing in the buckets brought in the night before and warmed this morning with hot stones from the banked fire, or helping each other bind their hair.

A low rumble shook the building, evoking a babble of comments: "Sounds mechanical!" "No, just thunder—another storm." "Thunder doesn't go on getting louder like that!"

The walls began to rattle, and she was fully awake. The ground shook, the animals in the hive-corral screamed. People poured out of buildings, raising a dreadful racket.

The Squadron!

Krinata had pulled on trousers and was skipping to yank on boots as she ran out the door before any of the women already up and dressed could move. She scrambled across a trench and sprinted toward the Dushau compound, the duad link within her mind ringing out alarm.

At the place where two roads met to feed into the portal, a crowd of Dushau had gathered. Storm and Cy, with a group of Dushau and Lehiroh, surrounded the seven who had balanced in Oliat. Jindigar found Krinata, and she shouted over the ramble, "What is that noise?"

"Look up!" he yelled pointing.

Above the clouds in the morning sky four flat shapes descended, plumes of plasma and vapor spraying from the undersides. The duad linkage made them seem familiar, though she'd never seen one before. "Imperial Landbases," Jindigar identified tonelessly, "fortresses, each carrying hundreds of troops! Once positioned, they could demolish the settlement, even boil the ground down to bedrock." His clinical distance reminded her of how he'd told Threntisn that every memory led to the Archive. He's more frightened than I am!

Someone yelled, "Look!" To the west, on the cliff high above them where one of the bases was settling, a line of armored Imperial troopers waited mounted on gravity scooters, weapons at ready, armor scintillating.

Darllanyu separated from the Oliat and shouted to Cy, "Look! Up there!" She pointed to the mounted troopers. "Phanphihy native—hivebounders—a herald, we think, and a little one—mind-gatherer. Prisoners!"

Jindigar drew Krinata away down the road to the cliff, peering up uncertainly. "It could be Chinchee! I wouldn't put it past him to try to communicate with the Imperials. They might have forced him to lead them here."

"How would he know?"

"Phanphihy doesn't need an Oliat—it is an Oliat!"

By now the trenches were filling, but the refugees from Truth were gravitating toward Jindigar, Terab and Irnils in the lead. Energy weapons, created from the downed landers' drives, had been placed in the bunkers, and now crews rushed to man them. Others, armed with hunting stu

"Krinata, do you notice anything odd?" asked Jindigar, pivoting to view each of the four fortresses that were now hovering within a few feet of the ground, forms distorted by shimmering waves of energy and plumes of dust.

At her bewilderment he asked, "How many troops do you suppose are really up there?"

One of the fortresses was settling right on the far edge of the east field, the sun rising behind it. Another was due north of the corral, while the third came down to the south of the stockade on the flat area around the gravel mine. The fourth, on the escarpment above them, cut off all hope of escape. "Eight—maybe twelve hundred in the fortresses. Another hundred or so mounted and ready to move in on us."

"No," he said slowly, pivoting. "No, it's a trick!"

He whirled and strode back to the Oliat where a crowd of the settlement's elected defense managers were clumsily questioning Darllanyu over Cy's objections.

Jindigar singled out the ephemeral leader. "I believe I can extract the information you most need."

He motioned Cy to move the defense committee back and turned to Darllanyu. His demeanor was shockingly distant, impersonal, as he addressed not Darllanyu, but the Oliat. "Does Indito's notice anything odd about the eastern fortress?"

One of the Officer's eyes snapped to the east where the descending fortress was still barely visible. The Outreach answered, loudly enough for the committee to hear, "Indito's judges there is no fortress there, nor to the north, nor to the south! The western one is solid. And ma

A ru

Jindigar fired more carefully worded questions at the Outreach, and gradually the defense command saw how the Squadron had been decimated already. The fortress was barely functional, malfunctions plaguing them where native sand or even air had gotten in. A nasty fungus had ruined the air purifier, and something vile was growing in the water. They'd lowered their ambient temperature to try to kill the microorganisms, and as a result, many of them were ill.

Exposure to the hivebound had left them all seeing horrors crawling out of solid bulkheads or lurking behind every tree or hill. Transfixed within their hallucinations, the crew made irreparable errors with precious equipment. They wanted nothing more than to get off this uninhabitable planet before their ships were no longer spaceworthy.

Jindigar traded a glance with Krinata, and she knew this was indeed what had happened to Raichmat's Outriders. It hadn't happened to Truth's passengers only because Jindigar and Frey had kept them treading lightly through this world's ecology. Her sledgehammer attacks with Inverting the triad could have destroyed them all.

Indito's Outreach proclaimed, "The whole fortress rings with resentment and anger covering fear and revulsion. They must attack soon, for we stand between them and home."