Farfetch

"Jindigar! Storm! Viradel!" She pulled her leg free, amazed she could still feel it. Cy pulled her up. She leaned on him, squinting through the smoke, coughing. "Where's the Oliat?"

Jindigar gathered her in, and she felt the duad link clenched down tight, so she could barely feel it. "They've taken losses. We must secure the platform to give them time to recover from the shock."

"Jindigar, you should stay and help them." She grunted as she helped Cy heave the dead scooter away from the hatch.

"No," he said woodenly, dragging at the massive machine.

She froze at a horrible thought. "Darllanyu?" She had to peel him away from the stubborn lump of metal and shake him. "Darllanyu? Is she all right?'

"I don't know! I must not go to them now, Krinata, and neither may you!" He yanked free and applied himself to the job. With Cy and Storm they moved it enough to get by. Krinata grabbed a fully charged beamer from a Cassrian trooper. People gathered to follow them, but Jindigar nudged Cy and Storm back. "The Oliat needs you."

Cy glanced at Krinata as she struggled to fit her hand into the grip of the Cassrian's beamer. He said, "Storm, I'll stay with the duad; your group take the rest of the Oliat." Then he forged ahead into the open hatch, beckoning, "Come on before we lose the advantage of surprise."

Krinata pushed ahead, ignoring the sharp yanks of pain that laced her body. Her concentration narrowed to exclude fear, but her heart was pumping hard. She glanced back and thought she saw Shorwh behind them. No! He's just a child!

But there was no time. She traded the Cassrian beamer to a Cassrian who could use it, in return for a burner designed for human hands. It could cut through the bulkheads of this fortress if it had to.

They jogged along a corridor to an intersection, rounded the corner, and found a waist-high barricade across the bottom half of the next corridor. Behind that, a line of Imperials stood, weapons aimed point-blank.

When they whirled to look behind, a vacuum bulkhead slammed across the intersection. Retreat was cut off. Along the corridor, status panels blinked alarm/alert. A silence fell as the two groups confronted each other.

Krinata handed her burner to Jindigar and strolled out into the space between them, arms out from her sides, a smile on her face. "I surrender!"

At the center of the line of troopers facing them, a Cassrian, grotesque in scintillating Imperial armor, but wearing Commander's insignia, snapped in a trained voice, "Who are you?"

"Myself," snapped Krinata.

The Commander warned, "Insolence will—"

Jindigar handed away the weapons and drifted out behind her. She didn't turn.

Distracted, the Commander started again, in a more reedy voice, Cassrian outrage growing, "What kind of people are you to bring a child into this?"

"What?" Krinata turned to follow his gaze. Shorwh eased out of the group. His field clothes were torn and dirty, and he limped on his right leg, but he held himself proudly.

"They didn't bring me," he a

Krinata could never have read Cassrian emotions through the shrouding armor, but she guessed that the Commander's parental instincts had engaged. Shorwh had claimed a sacred privilege. If his brothers lived, he wouldn't be killed.

The Commander of the fortress signaled, and the barricade clanged into the floor. The troops moved up to cut the three off from the group surging forward to help the Dushau. The Commander aimed his beamer at them and a

He turned and stomped away. Krinata stared after them.

They were herded through a cargo bay hatch, beyond which was a long chamber of empty cargo racks shrouded in red shadows under battle lighting. Dushau would be almost blind here. The hatch slammed ringingly.

Krinata saw cargotainers labeled as field rations for various metabolisms. While people sagged to the deck, weakened by the backwash of adrenalin, Jindigar only leaned weakly against a bulkhead. He was shaking, the duad linkage all but imperceptible.

Suddenly he grabbed at a protruding handle and pulled. What came sliding out of a recess looked like an oversize cargo come-along. Jindigar brandished it like a weapon. Then he grabbed it with both hands as he let himself down to sit on the deck, back propped against a bulkhead. "When—"

His stricture on the duad slipped, and Krinata felt the dizzying whirlwind of images flickering through his mind. Alarmed, she knelt. "Jindigar!"

He laid the come-along across his knees and cradled her neck with his broad hands, capturing her eyes. "Yes. Anchor for me. It can't be more than two Renewals!"

From over her shoulder, Threntisn's voice boomed, "What can't be?"

Jindigar looked up at him, blind in the low lighting. "A fortress—just like this one. Don't worry, Krinata can anchor me," And his face went slack.

The duad linkage flowed with scattered images. "Can you?" asked Threntisn.

"I—" The images were claiming all her attention, "I don't know." On the periphery of awareness, she sensed a knot of pain, five bright hot spots of ongoing loss.

//No, not there. The pentad will grab us, and we'll have to contend with the Archive. Concentrate—II

Then she was overwhelmed by rapid-flowing images she recognized, flying at her and through her in rapid succession as if guided by a strong hand, flashing brighter, surrounding her with vivid holos—Ontarrah's death, only this time she was Jindigar—Takora's death, only this time she was Jindigar—and on back before Jindigar knew how to form an Oliat. And suddenly they were in the cargo hold of a fortress, they were walking the corridors, they were in the main control room—lights flashing everywhere. And on the screens of the engineering station—flick—flash—the plans for the fortress.

//Jindigar?// Behind her mind, the lopsided whirling tesseract beckoned with its myriad windows flashing images.

//Takora—I've got it. Can't stay here.//

//All right. Let's go.// But which reality was real? //The cargo bay—Bay Six—how do we get there?//

//This way.// From the control room they raced weightlessly along corridors, but when they opened the hatch of Bay Six, they found it crammed with cargotainers.

Jindigar gathered her in his arms, pressing her face against his shoulder. //No, we're not now, we're then. You're Krinata now.//

//Krinata.// It was a vaguely familiar name, a proud name. //Yes, I'll be Krinata.//

Again they raced through Takora's death, barely time to sob out the horrible agony of knowledge of what they'd done, and Ontarrah's death, eclipsing all the minor losses of those years. And there she was, seated at her desk console, looking up politely at this new Outreach who'd come to be debriefed—"Krinata Zavaro

"Yes."

"Krinata!"

Jindigar was shaking her. Threntisn was peering at Jindigar, one hand on his forehead. "Yes," she said, "I'm all right." The crowding images had receded, and the duad link was choked off again. That was farfetching? It can't be that simple!

"You got it?" asked Threntisn.

"Yes," answered Jindigar.

"You're a fool!" said the Historian. "You've no right to risk your Me and hers like that!"

"Tell me that after you've Centered—"

Just then the hatch clanged open and another line of disheveled combatants was ushered in. When it shut again, Darllanyu emerged from behind the dirt– and smoke-begrimed Lehiroh Outriders. leaning heavily on Storm, she made for Jindigar.

Darllanyu shook her head. "Jindigar—I'm sorry—"

He waved her away. "It's all right. I found a block."