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Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Chapter One

There was only one way up the mountain. I saw the tortuous path once, in the light, from the village five hundred meters below.

Not daring to risk a torch as I scrambled along the narrow cut in the rock, I felt my way. Hands along the coarse scrub plants that dared to grow in the acrid soil, knees scraping the sharp edges even through the heavy fabric of my trousers.

It was black, impossible to see anything in front or behind me. A quality of darkness not only seen but felt, like a wall enclosing me. I could only hope the area I was looking for was in front of me. My ears strained in hope that nothing was following, but I knew better.

Just as I kept close to the trail as it clung and dipped close to the edge of the mountain, the Hayyim were behind me on the same route. And they would be angry.

The incline sharpened suddenly, throwing me off balance. I teetered precariously over the mountain, one leg catching on a wizened shrub, a rock slicing into my wrist. I dragged my arm along the ledge, reaching out searchingly for something solid to hold on to, finding only gravel and dirt that fell back into my face.

Dangling over the village so far below that it looked unreal, I tried to pull myself back up to the path. I spat the dirt out of my mouth and shook my head to clear my eyes. "Damn!"

The tiny torches were just beginning their ascent up the dark mountain. They'd have the advantage of light as well as familiarity. The Hayyim walked that path for centuries. I was scaling it for the first, and I hoped, only time.

I'd seen it, running like a pale ribbon along the mountain in the sunlight. The Hayyim leader pointed it out with a stern admonishment to avert my eyes in the future. It was the holiest of places. No strangers allowed. To be there was punishable by death.

With a savage surge of energy, I pushed myself back up on the track. The wind picked up off the mountain face, threatening to pummel me back down to the ground. I found handholds in the rocky ledge and levered myself further up the path. Ice was forming on the rock. I felt my fingers slide, but I kept going.

As I climbed higher, it became impossible to stay up on my feet. I dropped down and crawled, cold stone sliding across my stomach as I kept my mind on moving my hands, one over another. Slide, pull. Slide, pull. I pushed with my booted feet when I encountered a tenacious root sticking up from the rock.

Time became indistinct. The strength of the wind seemed to point to the fact that I was near the top. I looked up, straining just to lift my head, but there was no sign of the opening. Just the deep blackness, the hard, cold stone and the harsh wind.

"Keep pushin', Amelia," I grated through clenched teeth as I realized that my hands were becoming increasingly numb. A shard of rock scratched my face but it only hurt until the wind burned it away with cold. I wiggled my toes as I pulled my legs up another notch, experimenting with what feeling remained in the rest of my body. Urging my blood to flow through my frozen limbs.

"You have to be close to the top," I said, just to hear the sound of my own voice. "And you sure as hell don't want to go back the way you just came. Hayyim or not."

There was no one to argue with me, no one to hear my words. I reached out a hand to pull myself forward one more time. My fingers encountered damp, warm ground and a thick grass covering. I pushed eagerly forward.

It was a plateau unlike any I'd ever encountered. When I managed to shove my whole body up to the top, I found that the wind was gone. The cold that froze the mountain face was replaced by almost tropical warmth. Plants grew extravagantly, a lush scent clinging to the humid air. And there was light.

It was a pale luminescence that shadowed rather than starkly outlined the thickly twisted foliage. I walked through the ghosts of heavy vines and tall stalks, huge flowers layered across the spongy ground. There was a pungent, spicy aroma that filled the air as I approached the narrow crevice where the light emerged.

It was barely one half meter wide and only slightly longer. I began to understand why the Hayyim wise men were always so thin.

As it was, I wasn't certain I could make it through the aperture. Definitely not in my jacket. Quickly, I stripped it off and flung it down, not wanting to take a chance on getting caught on the sharp edge. I studied the opening, trying to see into the depth.

The light glowed as far down as I could see into the mountain below. There was nothing else visible below the surface. I dropped a rock down the breach and waited but there was no sound below me, no hint of where the pebble had fallen. Or for that matter, I reasoned, any way to know that it wasn't still falling.

The Hayyim's excited shouts began to echo in the distance. I knew enough of their language to know that they were calling for my death to be of the Seven Tortures. Not a pleasant way to die. I hoped they hadn't hurt my assistant, Clywd, in their rush to get at me. Then the first torch topped the plateau and I knew there was only time to look after myself.

That the Hayyim neophytes made the pilgrimage up the mountain and down the crevice to discover their spiritual selves was a matter of record. That they did so at the death of every Haynur, their wandering wise man, was validated as well some twenty years before.

What no one understood was why ten or more young people would travel the mountain path and only one or two return the following day from the caves below. Return alive and with their minds intact, I quickly corrected, looking down into the hole in the mountain again.

But there were two things I was certain of. The Hayyim hopefuls did not return the same way they went up the mountain. Which meant that there was another way down. And the tribe was closing in fast on my location. Which meant I could jump and risk death or just die.

Without another thought, I leaped into the crevice, feeling the rock stroke my shoulder as I cleared the opening. The light surrounded, engulfed me as I passed through it, falling hard and fast. I tried to keep my legs going down first, head up, curving my spine and trying to loosen my taut muscles for impact.

But just as the pebble I'd flung down, there didn't seem to be an end to it. I continued to fall through the pale light, a mist like shroud enfolding me. If there were sides to the opening, a top or a bottom, I wasn't certain. It felt like I was falling forever.

My downward motion finally slowed slightly. A warm blast of air puffed up from somewhere beneath me and I slowed even more. I switched on the recorder at my wrist, knowing this would be the only chance I'd have to find out what went on inside the mountain.

My descent finally slowed completely, leaving me suspended in mid air. Then I gently dropped. I landed on my feet, crouching down low while I scanned the empty chamber.

The walls were sharp faced blue rock with a pearlescent sheen. The same blue rock was underfoot but in a darker shade suggesting years of feet treading the passage.

"At least they didn't die from the fall," I said aloud, my words echoing softly around me. The air had cleared. But where was I?

There was a darker walled tunnel that ran off from the chamber I stood in. Since none of the other neophytes seemed to be there with me, I decided to follow it. There was no point in gaining the Hayyim's enmity only to miss finding the truth.

The tunnel was dark, the walls midnight blue. The natural lighting from the first chamber didn't reach its deeper middle. It coiled like a snake, undulating through the mountain's depths. I followed carefully, using my hands along the dry rock wall to guide myself.

A beginning bloom of light began to seep along the floor, making my passage easier. It grew in strength, the luminous quality of the pale blue glow softening the tunnel's contours.

The tunnel finally opened into a magnificent chamber, possibly as high as the mountain's five hundred meters. Gleaming stalagmites hung from its cathedral-like ceiling. The crystal walls were cool to my touch. Reflecting light, refracting the colors back in kaleidoscope complexity, I gazed at my reflection in their smooth surface.

"You should not be here," a voice whispered from beside me. The sound was like the rustle of dead leaves.

I looked down at the Hayyim called Regheyr. It seemed I'd found the neophytes.

"I had to come." I stopped abruptly as I realized why the man spoke so quietly. My words came back to me, shocking in their intensity. "I had to come," I began again, this time in a careful whisper. "The triese lea."

The triese lea was believed to be a method of psychic induction. The tones were said to stimulate parts of the brain. To the fortunate who survived went a gift of prophecy. For some, the induction meant madness. For others, death. No one understood exactly what it was or how it changed its listeners.

Regheyr was aghast. "You cannot mean to be here. It is sacrilege. The triese lea is only for the Haynur, those who survive to become the wisest."

"The future gift," I murmured. "Or death. Aren't you afraid of which it will be for you?"

"I am not afraid," he assured me. "It is you, Amelia Gallant, who should fear. You will never survive. The triese lea cannot be yours. Only death. Or madness."

"I am here, Regheyr. One way or another."

He turned away. "It will begin soon. Good bye, Amelia Gallant."

I wandered the chamber, not recognizing any other of the Hayyim there with me. The Hayyim recognized me as a stranger and turned away, knowing as Regheyr did that I didn't belong in their shrine. Their eyes were full of hatred and fear. Then the song began and there was only fear.

It began slowly. A sound that was almost indiscernible yet impinged on everything else. It grew in intensity, finally prohibiting everything else except for the sound. There was no breath. No thought. No life. Only the sound that crept on me, shrouding me outside and filling me.

I turned away from some of the early drawings I'd found scrawled on the walls. In amazement, as the sound consumed me, I watched some of the others fall to the floor. Some tried to blot the sound, pushing their hands to their ears. Some cried. Others screamed in wonder or horror. I looked into their eyes and saw madness.

To me, the sound was like a thousand-thousand crystal bells making the most delicate music, chiming through my soul in such a way that I never wanted it to stop. A growing wonder filled me until I found that I couldn't move, couldn't think of anything else but the enchanting sound. There were tears on my cheeks but I was powerless to stop my weeping.

The music, which began so sweetly, continued to strengthen. It turned inside of me until it reached a painful intensity. I lost control of my body, falling to the stone floor while the sound still poured over me. A scream welled up inside of me and I felt my mouth open but there was no sound, no sensation of anything. Only the triese lea.

I stared up at the high crystal ceiling, knowing that I was shrieking though I couldn't hear it, writhing painfully on the cold blue floor. My last coherent thought was sadness that I wasn't able to accept the future gift. But better death than madness...

* * *

"Amelia!" A man's voice, deep and rugged, slightly accented, called to me.

I opened my eyes and looked around myself. I wasn't dead after all. I wasn't in the cavern anymore. But where was I?

"How did you get here?" he demanded.

"I don't know," I replied quickly, glancing at the dark face close beside my own. "I was in the cavern, then...who are you?"

The man's lean, swarthy face moved back from me. His thick black hair was unruly, his dark eyes intelligent and intent on my face.

"Who are you?" I asked again, sure that his strong features would be imprinted on my mind for the rest of my life. I reached out a tentative hand to the rugged contour of his face and he vanished.

* * *

"Amelia! Please! You have to wake up! They'll be here soon!"

Now that voice I knew. My assistant, Clywd. I opened my eyes and saw his anxious, pasty colored face against the deep green-blue of the jungle. "Where did he go?" I sat up quickly but there was no sign of the dark man.

"Who?" Clywd glanced around us. "I was lucky to find you before the Hayyim. They threatened me with terrible things when they found that you were gone. I think they mean to do us personal physical damage."

"What?" I got to my feet, still disoriented. I was out of the cavern, but the man I'd first seen was gone. Who was he?

"They mean to hurt us, Amelia!" Clywd almost shouted at me.

"Hurt us?" I finally focused on what he was saying. The other man would have to wait. For the moment, I was alive, hopefully not hallucinating, and I needed to get the hell out of the area. "They mean to kill us, Clywd. At least me anyway. Maybe they'll ignore that we're together."

I pushed the dot on my wrist recorder, hoping it got everything I recalled from the mountain. Triese lea. The future gift. My mind almost wandered off again.

"Kill?" Clywd coughed and jerked up to his feet. "No, I don't think they'd do that, do you? You've been their honored guest. They might ask you to leave, perhaps. Or-or tell you never to come back."

"Think what you want. I'm getting out of here before we find out. They can always tell me I was wrong later."

"What about the gear in the village?" Clywd asked as he followed me through the thick underbrush.

"We'll have them send it to us if they aren't angry enough to kill us." I used the river to get my coordinates. There was a launch daily from the river site near the ancient cliff dwellings. If we could make it there, maybe we could beg a ride off Quella. At least away from the Hayyim village.

"But that's the story, Amelia," Clywd protested, huffing with exertion. "Without that we came for nothing!"

He wasn't an active man and took the position as my assistant because of the money my publisher always paid up front. That, and the book he hoped to publish by association.

"They won't hurt me." Clywd stopped short as we raced down the jungle path. "It's you they want. I'm going back for the material."

"Don't be a fool." I stopped a few paces ahead of him. "They'll kill you as well as me. I violated their shrine. I stole the triese lea."

"I know what you've done. I don't understand, Amelia! Couldn't Regheyr have told you about his experience for the book?"

"Did he come out alive?"

"He was the only one besides you and a woman who seemed to be insensible."

"Then he'll be the next Haynur for the tribe." I stored away the knowledge for the future.

"Yes, he'll be the new leader. He's a sensible man. He won't-"

"He will! He'll kill us both if we go back."

"Not if I go alone," he informed me stubbornly. "He was quite kind to me. In fact--"

"Don't delude yourself," I cut him short. "The papers aren't worth it. You'll get your book."

"That's not what Max told me, and my contract specifically calls for me to get the material you want to leave behind!"

"Does it call for your death, Clywd? If not, we have to go."

"I'm going back," he told me calmly. "Besides, all this running is making me queasy. I'll meet you at the transport station in Sieur."

I thought briefly of tackling him, physically forcing him along with me. He wasn't a strong man. None of the people from the desert region on Delta 7 are imposing in their size or strength. Max Stein hired him for his brain and because he agreed to come to the far reaches of Quella.

"I don't think I have the strength to force you to do anything else." I ran my hand over my gritty face. I knew my body was barely holding me up. I didn't have the strength to fight him. "Just don't take any chances. Get in and out and don't think they won't hurt you."

"Don't worry about me." He waved as he turned back towards the village. "I'll see you there in Sieur."

"All right. Fine." I started back in the opposite direction. The man was an idiot. I'd done what I could for him.

The thick growth made the path to the cliff almost impenetrable, even in the bright sun. Sharp edged nera plants cut at what remained of my dirty black pants. I ran until I thought my lungs would burst, listening intently for any sound of pursuit. The rugged, dirty brown cliffs began to loom up before me, stark even through the thick tree limbs and hanging vines.

"Oh God!" I groaned, breathlessly pushing back my hair from my perspiring face. I couldn't leave him there. I wanted to. God knew I wanted to! I wanted to get over that cliff and take the transport away from the Hayyim and their anger. But I couldn't. I just couldn't leave the idiot there and let him face his fate.

I went back down the path, cursing fluently in a mixture of backstreet slang accumulated from nearly all the planets in the known Alliance. I tripped once and forced myself to my feet, ignoring a bloody cut in my leg.

What made me take an assistant along on my expeditions anyway? I always had a problem with them. Either they backed out before I reached my destination or they managed to get lost. Once or twice, they even died.

But not Clywd, I vowed through clenched teeth as I pushed my abused body beyond its limits of endurance. I was leaving Quella with him in one piece, those damned papers in his hand, even if I had to carry him.

I turned, running purposely through the underbrush that had thinned as I reached the village. The smaller path ran along behind the row of huts that faced the river. The waste dump was at the end of it, fronting the mountain where it shadowed the village like a colossus. The Haynur lived at the bottom of the mountain's wide mantle. The small hut they allowed us was beside it.

The village was strangely empty. The few hundred Hayyim that usually occupied it seemed to have vanished. Probably looking for me. I skirted the main meeting area along the rocky water's edge and followed the path the Hayyim used to reach the area allotted for bathing and cleaning their clothing. The water ran faster there, ending in a small but fierce fall that kept the water supply clean and free of debris. Larger trash was consumed by the tribe's Packer, a large gray-green reptile that lived peacefully with the village, existing on its scraps of waste. The area was ecologically perfect.

My plan was to enter their hut from the back trail, hopefully finding Clywd there looking for his notes on the Hayyim. I misled him in our reason for being there, always meaning to go through the triese lea while he painstakingly researched the village's history.

As I walked the path close to the woven grass huts, my shoulders hunched, senses alert, I thought again about the future gift. It was supposed to be a prophecy or an image of the future. If one came to me, I couldn't decipher it. My head hurt like hell and I felt drained of energy and strength. That was trivial compared to the deaths of the other eighteen neophytes who entered the mountain.

There was shouting from near the river. From the angry words, I knew the Hayyim had spotted Clywd.

"No, wait!" He emerged from the front of the hut, all his possessions clutched in his arms. "You don't understand. Regheyr let me talk to you."

I stayed where I was, crouched down low between two huts, watching the angry Hayyim confront Clywd. Hoping that he was right and that they'd just let him leave.

"Where is she?" Regheyr demanded.

"I don't know, really. She was heading for the cliffs and the transport."

I groaned inwardly, wishing he'd been a little more inventive. Now the villagers would be expecting our run to the cliffs.

He started moving away from the hut. The Hayyim pushed closer. Clywd held his Mager bag and arms full of papers in front of him as though they'd keep him alive.

"She would not leave you here with her research," Regheyr concluded. The villagers surrounding him, nodding at his wisdom. "Where are you hiding her?"

"I am not hiding her." Clywd nearly fell over a branch lying on the ground as he backed away from them. "She's probably already on the transport."

"No!" Regheyr screamed, his anger echoing around the village. "She must not be allowed to leave Quella. I have seen it. The triese lea has shown me. She must never leave."

Clywd blanched even through his pale yellow skin. He backed further away. "Regheyr, I don't really know where she is right now. I'm just getting the research together. Please."

I watched as he backed a few steps more and then I sighed. I was going to have to go in and try to negotiate. I hated to negotiate. I wasn't good at it. Another reason not to ever take another assistant with me.

"I will take that research." Regheyr stalked Clywd again. His brown face was wrinkled from exposure to the sun. His eyes that had always seemed at least tolerant, took on the intent sheen of hatred.

"I can't give this to you." Clywd was aghast, moving away faster, barely glancing behind himself as he moved.

He'd backed himself into a corner. I saw his foot hit the edge of the waste dump and started forward. It had gone on long enough. I'd been in tougher scrapes. Besides, watching this was like torturing a small animal.

"Regheyr!" I called out to get the Haynur's attention.

"Amelia!" Clywd acknowledged me with a grateful smile. "There, you see! She's still here! You two can talk this over. I'm sure you can find a reasonable solution." He juggled his possessions as his feet foundered in the debris.

"You!" Regheyr pointed at me. "You thought you could avoid punishment. You mock us!"

A woman's scream rent the tableau, echoing off the side of the gray mountain's shade. "Look! It comes!"

I dared to take my eyes from Regheyr's starkly hostile face and look where the others were already staring in fear. It was the Packer. It wasn't time for it to feed. Perhaps it was the extraordinary commotion and upheaval in the village that had disturbed its daylight slumber in the deeper parts of the river. "Move away from the dump," I yelled at Clywd as the creature began to lumber from the river towards its usual feeding place.

The look of terror that passed over Clywd's face would've been a little humorous if the situation wasn't so desperate. He dropped everything he held on the ground, then, incredibly, stooped to retrieve it, turning his back to the beast.

"No, Clywd," I appealed to him. "Leave all of it there and come away! None of it matters!"

Two of the villagers picked up long poles and timidly tried to direct the Packer away from his dinner. The creature wasn't in a playful mood. He was hungry, and though it was earlier than it liked, it was going to feast before returning to the river.

I ran to Clywd's side and helped him gather up the material. "Come on," I urged him, keeping a careful eye on the Packer.

Leaving him with only the lightweight Mager bag to bring with him, I took one look at the gaping maw of the beast as it began to descend to the dump, and I threw myself out of the way, rolling across a pile of brush before I found my feet and began to run in earnest.

There was one last paper on the side of the hill of waste. Clywd turned back, the carry case in his hand as he reached for it. He glanced up as the first row of flat teeth neatly grabbed him up with a mouthful of garbage and swallowed him whole. The beast went on to munch the rest of his lunch in contentment, never noticing the slight difference in meal planning.

I waited a heartbeat longer. Then, while the Hayyim stood transfixed by the horror, I threw down the excess baggage and disappeared into the jungle.

Chapter Two

In a desperate attempt to save my own life, I put Clywd's sudden death from me. I could mourn him and swear never to take on another assistant later, after I was safely on the transport and heading for Sieur.

There was no doubt in my mind that there was murder in Regheyr's eyes. If they caught me, I would die in that jungle.

I'd lived with that remote tribe for nearly three months and learned their ways, especially their paths through the treacherous jungle. I knew them possibly as well as the Hayyim did since I knew I'd have to leave quickly. I knew from the beginning that it would come to this in the end. There was no way the tribe would let me break one of their sacred taboos and simply leave.

The sun was hot, the heavy plant life oppressive. I followed a path not widely used by the tribe so that it was slightly overgrown making my movements awkward at times. My feet slipped perilously on the thick foliage beneath them. The cliffs were in the distance above the tree line but visible to me only in places where the tribe had foraged some of the natural growth for their huts or other necessities.

The giant leaves of the tarn tree were a great deal like spun cloth, but stronger than any fiber I'd ever seen. They were versatile enough to be woven into clothing, fishing nets, the huts themselves. They had a pleasant smell that I thought I'd always remember when I was gone from the place.

If I can get away. I was beginning to tire as I thrashed at the plants that blocked the old path. A tiny voice of doubt rapped at my already throbbing brain.

I wished fervently for a big knife to clear the overpowering growth that sprang up before me. It resisted my attempts to push through stubbornly as though it was trying to help the natives that lived within the jungle's perimeter.

"That's great," I panted, "start personifying the plant life as the enemy."

I squinted up into the sun then followed a line to the east where the cliffs and freedom would be. I'd have to strike out away from the overgrown path and hope to find the main track to the transport. If I was lucky, they'd already found that I wasn't on the frequently traveled way and would be looking for me on one of the myriad other routes.

I didn't feel terribly lucky. Although I supposed that if I wasn't, the Packer would've eaten me as well. Or the Hayyim would've recovered from the shock of seeing Clywd eaten alive before I had the opportunity to pick up and run. That I'd made it out of the village at all could be considered luck. But at that time, luck was only a shuttle out of the jungle.

It was hard going through the underbrush between paths. The plant life had never been cut and every step was an effort. Nera vines caught and sliced at my feet and legs. When I finally reached the clearly cut and trampled route, I was breathless, ready to kiss the ground.

The cliffs were immediately before me as dusk was beginning to fall. Silent purple haze began to tinge the landscape, shadowing the trees and the horizon. Exhausted, I kept my eyes on the lights that began to come on around the transport landing area.

It wasn't possible to tell if a transport was in, but they ran from the city on a regular schedule. If I had to, I could hide until the next one arrived from Sieur. If I was really fortunate, there'd be Alliance troops, an Endo enviro group, or someone else waiting for the transport. The Hayyim were not a violent people normally and it wouldn't take much to reason with them. Outside interference was what I needed at that moment.

Not the Hayyim woman that leaped up from the path in front of me.

I didn't go back along the path to what would surely be a trap. Instead, I swerved to the side, running through the darkening brush.

They'd found me. I kept my gaze on the lights in the distance. They were so close, so very close. The landing pad was dark, the small outbuildings starkly white against the purple sky. The cliffs rose up amethyst just beyond. I could make out a small group waiting for the transport. They looked like tourists, not in uniform, large bags holding their belongings.

The transport time had to be very near. Renewed hope of escape swelled in me. Once I was on the transport, it was only a short hop to Sieur. I'd be on the first shuttle off the planet after that. The Hayyim would never venture that far from home.

There were a few kilometers cleared around the landing pad. The spot was part of the cliffs, a rocky slab devoid of life in the middle of the endless jungle. I felt my foot hit the stone about a hundred meters from the group of tourists and my muscles galvanized, pushing new air into my burning lungs and strength into my cramped legs.

From the darkening sky above me came the whirr of the transport as it approached to land. The huge craft was capable of bringing supplies to the scientists that lived further inland as well as ferrying passengers. Frequently, it dropped off smaller shuttles to enviro techs on the borders tracking the ever present profit mongers that sought to exploit the rich but heavily protected planet of Quella.

It didn't move fast and usually, I was impatient with the halting hulk, but at that moment, nothing had ever looked so good. I began to wave my arms and yell. A figure detached itself from the group, the red uniform identifying the man as an Endo officer.

Yes! my frantic mind raced on ahead of my body. An armed enviro tech was just what I needed. I saw the tourists pointing at me, several moving towards me, following the Endo officer. But two Hayyim men I recognized as Regheyr's sons tackled me before I could take another step.

I rolled over and over in the loose topsoil and rocks while they deftly wrapped a thickly woven fishing net around me. When I was able to see again, I could see the Endo officer and his companions running towards us but they were still at a distance.

"Wait!" I heard the Endo officer yell at the Hayyim men.

I wanted to yell and tell them who I was, but my mouth and most of my face were covered, allowing me sight out of only one eye.

"I know that woman," the same voice protested.

The villagers were deaf to the words, listening only to the orders their new Haynur gave them. I was caught and now I'd be returned to the village.

By the time the Endo officer and the three men from the transport authority reached the site where I'd been snagged, the Hayyim had already picked me up, cocooned in the woven tarn, and begun the long trek back to the village.

"Those were the Hayyim all right," I heard one of the transport chiefs tell the Endo officer.

"And that was Amelia Gallant," the Endo tech returned.

"The author?"

"I rode out here with her about three months ago."

"What the hell do you think was going on?"

"I don't know but I think I better find out."

Those were the last voices I heard until I was dumped unceremoniously in a hut when we reached the village. I looked up from my place on the dirt floor where they released me from the cocoon even as they placed a noose around my neck, attaching me to the ceiling pole.

Regheyr stood in the open doorway, his eyes burning with the flames of madness. Or vision. I didn't feel like debating which at that moment. "You cannot leave with the triese lea inside you." His voice was raspy from shouting out unaccustomed commands to his unwarrior people.

"I saw nothing," I retorted. "What about you, Regheyr? What did you see?"

His eyes rolled back in their sockets and his face became slack. "I know that you have somehow taken the triese lea with you and I know that you had a vision. You cannot hide either of these things from me."

I thought of the recording I'd made in the shrine and the man's face I'd seen as I awakened. Then I began to pray that the Endo officer at the transport base brought help quickly. Regheyr wouldn't understand the technology that allowed me to have the recording device implanted beneath my skin. But that wouldn't help me if I was dead.

"You see, Amelia Gallant? I am the Haynur. You cannot deceive me. I will have these things if I must take your mind and your life to do so."

I sat back on the hard floor as comfortably as I could in the circumstance. I looked him in the eyes as his normal vision returned and he approached me. "I suppose nothing I could say would make any difference. But better, saner men than you have tried, Regheyr."

The evil leer became a mask on his dark face as he drew close to me and when his hands descended to cover my head, I felt the first explosion of pain. The villagers sat calmly on the edge of the river as my screams rent the night. Morning was a long way off.

* * *

It was only two weeks in Alliance time. But inside the dark Hayyim hut, I was certain a lifetime had passed.

It only took the Endo officer a day to find the village and demand my release. Regheyr emphatically refused. I was to be questioned then killed. With the proper ritual, of course.

I had heard them arguing outside the hut, though being bound and gagged myself, it was all I could do. The enviro tech promised to return with reinforcements. The Haynur stood firm.

Within a week, my fate was known system wide. Endo and Echo enviro techs, representatives from the Alliance, and Quellan government officials descended on the small village. They were followed closely by the press who stationed themselves around the village hoping for a glimpse of the prisoner.

The Hayyim held a council, relayed by the press into over a thousand languages and retro-fed throughout the Alliance.

Everyone understood the Haynur's anger, his sense of betrayal. But the outsiders had made their lives impossible. The Quellan government threatened to take away their land. The noise scared off the Packer. Several of the young tribal women were being corrupted by the Endo techs and the abominable press.

Their council's decision was unanimous. They would have to release me. But they decided to wait another full day so that their Haynur's pride could be salvaged.

Regheyr was hardly satisfied with the verdict but he couldn't go against the entire tribe. Besides, he'd become convinced that I didn't have a vision after all. No one had ever stood up to a Haynur's mind trials without telling the truth. His ego wouldn't allow him to think it could happen with me.

The day I was released, he entered the hut and stared at me, as though trying to solve a difficult puzzle. I was naked and alone, sitting cross legged on the dirt floor. I stared back at him defiantly. He knew that if I'd found a way to take the triese lea with me, there was nothing else he could do.

He threw me a rough tarn blanket dyed bright blue with berries that grew there in the spring. It was winter by then and the cooler air had brought dormancy to many of the plants they routinely harvested.

"Are we finished now?" I was making a concerted effort to keep my teeth from chattering. Any sign of weakness, I knew, would be exploited by the Haynur.

He nodded to the smaller man at his side and the man came forward to cut the ropes that bound me.

"There is more between us, Amelia Gallant." Regheyr nodded slowly. "But we shall have to begin again when we reach Ahryd."

I stood slowly, not entirely certain of my feet and legs. "If we do meet in Heaven," I told him, wrapping the blanket around me, "I'll be the one with the weapon pointed at your head."

He nodded and bowed low. "I await your pleasure."

Freezing, starving, two weeks worth of dirt on me, I met the public. Frantic press reps rushed to my side as I emerged from the hut with several of the Hayyim around me.

"Were you tortured?" one sharp faced woman asked as the Endo techs began to move in.

"What did they do to you, Amelia?"

"Will this be a new book, Amelia?"

"We'll be going right to the transport from here," a tall, red uniformed woman told me as she gestured to her companions trying to clear a path. "We have medical personnel standing by."

A blue uniformed Echo agent, pale hair haloed by the sun approached us. "We'll remain behind to assess the damage done to the tribe."

"Damage?" the woman demanded, her dark eyes flashing at him. "We should've come in here and taken her out last week instead of sitting around waiting for them to let her go."

The blond man frowned at her then looked at me carefully. "She appears to be intact, Lieutenant. And no doubt has found a way to bring out their triese lea with her."

I was tired of being referred to as a nonexistent entity. I grabbed my blanket and my dignity and faced the Echo tech angrily. "Shall I send you an autographed copy, Agent...?"

"Astri, Kalatri Astri." His beautiful eyes searched mine. "If I thought for one instant that you-"

"Come along." The Endo tech brought me past him, addressing him as we left. "We'll be back for you next week. Try not to get eaten by that worm."

"Must be Rian," I mumbled as we boarded the small transport. "Too damned good looking."

"And not too particular about whose thoughts he senses if he thinks it's necessary," the Endo lieutenant warned me. "Take a seat and let's get out of this hole."

"That's unusual, even for a Rian, isn't it, Lieutenant...?"

"Gael Klarke," the woman answered, going to the transport controls. "And yes, he's a damned nuisance sometimes."

"And?" I prompted, holding my blanket around myself.

Gael Klarke looked me in the eye. "I've had a recorder wired into me since I was twelve. If we'd stayed any longer, he would've noticed too."

I looked at the tiny flesh colored dot on my wrist. I'd been careful to get it dirty with the rest of my arm the first day. Regheyr never knew what he was looking for. Nothing he said or did to me could make me give up my prize.

"Thanks," I acknowledged what the Lieutenant had helped me do.

"Looks to me like you've earned it." Gael shrugged, bringing the transport up and around the cliffs with an easy hand. "What about the future gift?"

"I don't know," I admitted, feeling a shiver run up my spine. The man's image I'd seen in the jungle formed again in my mind. I'd had a great deal of time to think about him.

He wasn't someone I knew or someone I'd met. Was seeing him the gift? If so, it was hard to believe he could be worth the pain I'd been through to bring him out of that cavern.

Chapter Three

I took the transport to Sieur as I'd planned on doing before Regheyr brought me back to the village. During the trip, I was examined by medical personnel who pronounced me a little undernourished and there was frostbite in the toes of my left foot. They treated them with electrical stimulus and gave me vitamin shots. Complete rest and a balanced diet were prescribed.

"You've got a call coming in," Lieutenant Klarke told me, pointing to the comm panel.

I took the chair before it, still holding my blanket while one of the med techs looked for something else for me to wear. I could already imagine the pictures of me in a blanket, looking like a refugee, splattered across papers from Lunden to Land's End.

"Amy! You look great! Where's Clywd?" I stared at the aquiline profile of my publisher, Max Stein. "It's a long story." I sighed, thinking of my former assistant.

"Great! Let's talk about it. I'll meet you at Telfa. You should be there in about three days. Rest up. Start Clywd in on those notes."

The screen went blank. I sighed again, feeling my stomach begin to churn. Max always had that effect on me.

"Clywd?" Gael asked briefly.

"My assistant," I replied slowly. "He was..."

"...eaten by the worm?" she guessed. "So that's what gave the thing a taste for meat."

"It hadn't eaten a humanoid in over three hundred years."

"It's eaten a few more since we left the village," Gael told me. "Agent Astri is very concerned it could eat the whole tribe."

I wasn't happy about my part in that fiasco. If I had it to do over, I wouldn't have taken Clwyd with me. I certainly didn't mean to cause an enviro incident while I was there. "The Hayyim are good people, if a trifle narrow in their beliefs." I glanced at Gael and smiled. "Maybe it could just eat Regheyr."

The trip passed quickly. When we parted in Sieur, I thanked my rescuer, glad of her support, physical and mental. I saw Sieur in a haze of exhaustion and wouldn't have found the transport area without her help.

It's a strange, uncomfortable feeling to rely on someone else. Maybe I'm alone too often. Maybe it's just the way I'm made. I can't imagine living that way for long. I wouldn't be a brave blind woman or a happy paraplegic unless I lived in a cave by myself and refused all assistance.

The shuttle Max thoughtfully sent for me was luxuriously appointed with anything I could want. I had to wade through the press reps Max also thoughtfully sent for me. It was worth it. I knew the press was necessary for book sales. I even managed to stay awake to answer their questions.

But just off planet, I climbed out of a hot bath and into a clean, warm bed where I spent the next three days. My body was weak but my brain was numb. Keeping Regheyr out of my mind took almost more stamina than I possessed. If I hadn't spent time on Ria a few years before and learned a few of their mind tricks, I wouldn't have been able to resist him.

Even so, the price was shaky hands and easily rattled nerves. It would be a long time before I forgot the experience and the Haynur's eyes of fire weren't in my dreams.

I woke up reluctantly when the shuttle docked at Telfa Base. The shuttle pilot discreetly gave me a wake up call, switching on lights and music complete with an unshuttered port window that faced a magnificent sunrise over Farga.

I groaned as I swung my legs off the bed, looking at the sunrise with a jaundiced eye. I was stiff and sore in every muscle. My head still ached, but my mind felt rested. The pressure of defending myself was gone. I was ready to move on.

Max included clothes for almost any occasion in the shuttle. In my favorite colors, naturally. I looked through the clothes directory, trying to decide what to wear. Max was nothing if not considerate and thorough. Sometimes I felt like a pet that he'd decided to take care of. Except that my books made money for him. I understood his motivation clearly even though I didn't understand Max himself. I pushed a button on the console, choosing a pale blue- green shift of Rian blush, a material much like Terran silk.

There were bruises on my arms that were left bare by the scarf like neck and shoulders, a cut on my leg where the skirt slit to my thigh. I refused to cover a bruise on my cheekbone with make up. I'd earned that bruise.

Clean, my hair was a red shade of cinnamon and shoulder length, a vanity I don't give too much consideration. My eyes were never the same shade, always picking up the color of the garment I wear, something between blue and green. I was tall and thin, almost to the point of being gaunt after my imprisonment.

A red light on the comm panel blinked as I was trying to find shoes that would fit my dress. "Yes?"

"When you're ready, your escort is here," the pilot announced briskly.

"Thanks." I released the response button. I found shoes, finally, and left my quarters.

The press hounds had been left on Quella after the long rounds of questions and answers. I knew what Max wanted from me, a build up for my next book. I smiled and was witty until my voice was hoarse. But it paid off.

The young man who waited for me near the shuttle door was carrying a green Alda lily and a copy of the Telfa paper. I was on the front page, a shiny holograph of me, bedraggled and wrapped in a blue blanket. The caption was: OUR HERO

"Max is waiting breakfast for you," he told me with a sweet smile.

"Thanks." I took the flower and the paper.

"You look really good. Lean and mean." He appraised me quickly. "Max is anxious to see you."

I didn't reply, scanning the paper instead as the walkway moved beneath us, taking us to Max's hotel. The article was well written, actually quite flattering but I frowned as I read it. It was worded to appear that I'd gone through the triese lea for public attention to sell my books. There was even a hint that the tribe had gone along with me on it.

"Is something wrong?" my escort asked.

I folded the paper and looked away, not wanting to vent my anger on him. I looked at my surroundings instead.

Telfa Base was a one of a kind recreational facility. Located just off the dark planet Farga, it was home to only a very few. Instead Telfa's mainstay were travelers, long-term freighter captains and their crews looking for a short time of pleasure before going out again. Entire pleasure cruisers were worked on night and day by Telfa's mechanics. Business meetings between worlds, legal and illegal, took place here, their participants spending freely on Telfa's many forms of pleasure. Everything was available. There was nothing that money or prestige could not buy.

Max Stein was staying at the best hotel having both money and reputation. My escort left me at the door of the largest suite with a smile and a business card, telling me to call for him when I was ready to leave. The invitation was there in his eyes. I hoped the refusal was clear in mine.

"Amy!" Max called from inside the suite. "Come on in, honey! Where's Clywd?"

I swallowed hard and pushed myself forward.

The suite of rooms was made to circle the pool where Max was floating on his back in the lush green water. There were plants everywhere, vines hanging from the ceiling. Air cushions floating just above the cool blue floor approached me as sensors picked up my presence.

"No thanks." I waved them away, preferring to stand when I told Max about Clywd. "He's dead, Max," I told him bluntly before I pulled out the paper I'd brought in with me. "What about this story? They've made it sound like I planned the whole thing."

Max Stein was the youngest publisher in the Alliance. He'd inherited money from a long line of family fortunes then bought out his competitors and somehow managed to put them all together into a working unit. The wealthiest working unit in the Alliance. He bought out my contract from a private publisher when he turned twelve Earth years because he liked my work. I hated him for his arrogance at the time.

A year and a half later, I was the most successful author in the Alliance. He began to grow on me.

"Amy, slow down a minute. Clywd is dead? How? When?" He searched my face as he left the pool, a tall, sloe eyed Paddan woman draping a warm robe around his shoulders.

"About two weeks ago when this whole thing started. He was eaten by the tribe's waste devourer, the Packer."

"The Packer?" Max shivered thinking about it, his handsome young face mirroring the distaste he felt at the news of the gruesome death.

If possible, I could feel my face pale as I watched him. My eyes felt like sharp, green glass, and the bones in my face felt suddenly rigid.

"Easy, Amy," Max came closer, perhaps sensing my distress, calling for breakfast to be brought in. "You need a hot cup of tea."

"I'm fine," I assured him calmly. "It was terrible. Never mind the tea, Max, how about some rum. I know you have some."

"Of course." He nodded to the woman who went to find the illegal substance. "Clywd was a good man. It'll be hard to replace him."

"Replace him?" I was angry instantly. "None of this would've happened if you weren't always so damned insistent that I take someone with me!"

Max was patient and calm. "I wouldn't insist if you'd keep decent notes, draw pictures. Do anything that remotely passed for writing a book."

"I get them done." I was even more infuriated by his matter of fact attitude. "You make your money."

He looked at me, his keen blue eyes sparkling. "You look like hell, Amy. Let's eat and talk about it after."

I can't recall when I've been so hungry or when Fargan rum tasted so good. The rum was never supposed to leave the planet below us but it had been smuggled off world ever since its conception. And it was a contraband that wasn't likely to run short.

"So tell me," Max said finally, acutely aware of my slightly rum and food softened attitude, "the triese lea."

I looked at him as I finished what I had designated as my last glass of rum. He was so damned young. I could only make out the first faint tracings of pale fuzz on his face. It irritated me even as I admired him. Even found him attractive.

"The future gift." I allowed myself to be fed into submission. "I recorded the whole thing. Would you like to hear it?"

"I don't think so," he admitted. "Did you see anything? What happened?"

I smiled. "You'll have to read the book, Max. I'm going to put it all in the book. What about the article in the paper?"

"What about it?" He laughed. "I couldn't have asked for better. You're a heroine. Again. Everyone will be waiting breathlessly for the book."

"But they think I went through the last two weeks for publicity! Even Clywd's death will be something for the press to turn into a farce."

"That's fine, Amy. It makes Clywd's death better than an accident and it makes your ordeal into something we can profit from, not just a terrible memory. What's wrong with that?"

I stared at him angrily, knowing I would never win that argument. For Max Stein, anything that made a profit was acceptable. Truth was only important as a means to an end.

"All right." I stood up from the table. "Clywd is gone, I can't change that. I don't really care what anyone else thinks. I'm going home to write the book."

"Lunden." He knew I always retreated to my home world when I was licking my wounds and deciding where to go next.

"Don't call me, Max. I'll let you know when its finished."

"You got it," he agreed. "How long?"

"I don't know. Maybe a month, maybe more."

"I've already sold the first printing," he told me. "But there's no rush."

"Thanks. I appreciate you not putting any pressure on me."

"Sorry, Amy," he apologized with a smile. "You know how it is. Get better...then work. I need that book."

"You'll have it as soon as I can do it."

"I know, honey. Give my best to your family."

I winced at his words. That was the only problem in knowing someone as well as Max knew me. He knew where to turn the screw. But I managed to smile as I left him there. I didn't call for an escort back to the shuttle.

I didn't have the energy to stop at any of the tiny shops I passed on my return. Telfa was a shopper's heaven, generating enough capital to encourage individuals from all over the Alliance to try their goods on its tiny streets.

Vendors hawked their wares along the constantly moving walkways between hotels and transport docks. Their goods littered the streets and their voices peppered the twilight always present in the city. Buyers, engorged with their booty, tried to get the best prices. But on Telfa, they paid what the market demanded and were happy to do it for the rarities they offered.

As I neared my shuttle docking area, lost in my thoughts, a weight settled on my shoulder. When I turned my head, a tiny head nuzzled my face.

"Come away there," a man's harsh voice demanded, "what'll you give for it?"

I looked at the creature that accosted me as I stepped from the walkway. It was a tiny blue lizard. His scales ranged from pale, misty blue to deep sapphire. It was only the size of my palm and turned its head as I did, silver eyes gazing soulfully into mine.

"What is it?"

"Andorean tree lizard," the man told me gruffly. "Only a few left. 500 Alliance credits. 300 cash, any world."

I watched as the delicate creature preened itself in my hand, its tiny wings beating so quickly that it was difficult to see their movement.

"It's very pretty." I took my eyes from the creature reluctantly. "But I don't have time for a pet. Thanks anyway."

I handed the lizard back to the small, hunched man, trying not to care that he squeezed the dainty animal a little too hard. I returned to the walkway, not looking back, but had gone only a short way when the tree lizard flew to my shoulder again. It perched there, eyeing me mournfully as though it couldn't quite believe I would leave it.

"Hey!" the lizard's odious owner yelled at me, "that's mine! Either you want it or you don't!"

I took the lizard from my shoulder and looked at it in the face. "I can't have you. Stay or whatever. You can't come with me."

I could have sworn its tiny face sank dismally at my words. I chided myself for thinking it could understand me. Surely they didn't teach Alliance to Andorean tree lizards! Resolutely, I took the creature back to its owner. The man swore sharply, told me that I was crazy, then put a leash on the lizard's neck.

The tiny silver eyes pleaded with me and I felt myself soften. Then I shored up my defenses. With the places I traveled and the things I did, I couldn't own a pair of shoes for more than a few days! A pet needed someone more stable. Resolutely, I turned my back on the creature.

Without further attacks, I reached the shuttle quickly. Lunden was almost two days away, days I could use to get my thoughts together, do some sort of preparation for the book. The door to my suite slid open at my touch.

A young woman jumped up from her place on the bright green chair, then started to reassemble the various paraphernalia she dropped. "Uh-Amelia Gallant?"

"Yes?"

"I'm your new assistant. Max Stein sent me over. I'm supposed to help with your new book."

I couldn't believe my eyes! How had he done it so quickly? "He must have people waiting in line," I muttered moving past her.

"Excuse me? Was that something I should record?" The girl tried to find her recorder and dropped everything on the floor again.

"No, that's fine. I'm just rambling." I took pity on the girl and helped her get her things off the floor.

"Thanks." She offered me her hand. "I'm Jean from Nuador on Parsis."

"I'm Amelia Gallant." I took the girl's hand. "You'll have the cabin down there if you want to go ahead and get settled. We can talk later."

"Thanks." Jean smiled. "I've read your books. I enjoyed your freighter trip to Selim-3. Where are we headed?"

"Lunden."

"Your home world," Jean acknowledged. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Thanks. We'll be leaving in a few minutes." The silence stretched awkwardly. I wasn't very good at small talk.

"I'll just go and find my cabin." Jean left me in the entryway.

"Max!" I wasted no time in opening a comm line between myself and the hotel.

The Paddan woman smiled serenely and shook her head. "He is gone. He wishes you well and safe journey."

I grimaced. "Tell him...never mind. I'll tell him myself when I see him again. Thanks."

"Ready to go when you are," the pilot's disembodied voice hailed me.

"Let's do it," I agreed, taking a seat at the desk in my cabin. I wasn't happy about taking on another assistant but I was determined to at least keep this one alive.

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