The Space Between Page 10

  Meledrin followed Kim into the crowd of people. Lesser Changing. Many of them had little boxes held up to their eyes or were talking into strange objects. Kim pushed her way through and Meledrin followed, slipping through the crowd. She tried, without much success, to avoid brushing against the men. When the way became too congested, even for Kim's outrageous shoving, they were forced almost to a standstill.

  The building they were trying to reach, the center of all the attention, faced out over a small park. A huge sculpture of an eagle soared five floors above the door. The stone facade, covered in a metal grillwork, gave the impression of impregnable strength without clashing with the surrounding architecture.

  Meledrin was impressed. Other buildings in London were much the same — if not in design, then in size and spirit — but she hadn't really stopped to look. Now, she slipped laterally through the crowd, crossing to one of the stone columns that lined the front of the building. She hesitantly touched the cool surface. Kim followed close behind, apologizing as she went, but being ignored for the most part.

  "I have never known that stone could be so alive," Meledrin said, pushing wet hair away from her face. "It has always been mere stone in the past."

  "I thought dwarves were supposed to be the best stone masons anywhere," Kim said.

  "You learned this in your tales of 'fantasy'."

  "Well, yeah." She sounded slightly embarrassed.

  "No, you are quite correct. They are supposed to be stone masons without equal." Meledrin broke away from the stone and moved closer to their destination. She moved to another column, touching at its surface. The rain was lessening, the cloud cover breaking up. Such a strange world where conditions can change so quickly.

  "'Supposed to be the best masons?'"

  "Well, I have never witnessed any of their work."

  "So, let me get this right. You hate dwarves? Can't stand them? And yet you have never even seen the one thing that defines them as a race?"

  "Masonry does not define dwarves." Meledrin sighed and continued to examine the column, running her fingers along the perfect ribs, feeling at the joints. "Their love of work does. Their need to be doing. Their superior physical skills come from that, not the other way around."

  "Okay, but you have never seen the dwarfish homelands, or whatever they call it?"

  "No, I have not."

  "How many dwarves have you met in your entire life?"

  Meledrin thought for a moment. "Only Keeble."

  "Only Keeble?"

  Meledrin stopped and turned to face Kim. "I see where you are leading with this, Kim. You are going to ask, 'How can I judge a race of people by just one of their number?' That is what you are going to ask, is it not?" She smiled. Kim was young and naïve and would not understand, even when it was explained to her.

  "Yes, that's my question."

  "Well, I do not judge them. I let people that I trust judge them. My ancestors. My friends." She could name her mothers all the way back to the turn of the millennium, and none of them liked dwarves.

  "And how many dwarves have your friends seen? And your ancestors? How long since a group of elves visited the dwarves, or the other way around."

  "It has been many years. The dwarves always end up making trouble and leaving. They are unrefined, loud, and have not a thought towards custom."

  They finally reached a low wooden barricade with a serious looking saveigni in a green uniform on the other side. A whole line of them, stiff and staring, guarded the barricade.

  "You mean they have no thought for your customs. Have you considered that they have customs of their own, dating back as long as yours, that say you should show your hosts that you're having a good time?"

  Meledrin turned away from her inspection of the guards. "What is it that you mean?" She knew Kim was going to come up with a ridiculous example, but it was only polite to ask.

  "Well burping, for instance."

  "I beg your pardon. I do not know the word."

  "Belching. Expelling air from your stomach out through your mouth."

  "Ah, yes. I understand."

  "Well, in my culture belching is considered, well, not rude but uncouth."

  "As it is in mine." Meledrin thought of pointing out that elves and humans had much in common, but Kim was speaking again.

  "Right, but there's at least one culture on Earth where belching after a meal is thought to show your enjoyment of the meal."

  "I do not believe you." Meledrin said with a sniff. Belching a display of contentment!

  Kim turned to the nearest guard. "I'm not lying, am I?"

  For long moments the man did not reply. When he did, his eyes continued to rove, scanning the crowd. "Ma'am, I'm pretty sure the Chinese have a custom like that."

  Meledrin sniffed again. Of course the humans would stick together.

  "See," Kim said. "But if a Chinese person went to someone's house in my land, they might offend when they were trying to please. All through a misunderstanding."

  "Well these misunderstandings have been going on for longer than anyone can remember."

  "And they'll continue to, as long as nobody hangs around long enough to talk."

  Meledrin shook her head. "It is not that easy, Kim."

  "I'm sure it isn't."

  Meledrin shook her head and sighed. Kim would never understand. She turned to the guard. "Please allow us through, saveigni."

  "I'm sorry, Ma'am, unless you're a citizen of the United States, you can't pass."

  "Well, as a matter of fact..." Kim removed her pack and searched through one of the pockets. After a moment she pulled free a little book and held it out to be examined.

  The saveigni glanced at it. "That's an Australian passport, Miss."

  "What? Oh, shit. Wrong one." Kim searched again.

  The guard raised an eyebrow. "You have two passports?"

  "It's a long story. It involves elopement, unimpressed grandparents, and several official enquiries."

  "Right." He turned his attention back to the crowd while Kim continued to go through her pack.

  "Anyway," Kim continued, "surely we aren't in the U.S. until we've passed through the doors. There's still a little bit of England behind you there. Have you gotten permission to keep English citizens off English soil?"

  Meledrin sighed. Kim seemed to enjoy annoying people.

  "I couldn't say for sure, Miss. Not sure if we're allowed to stop Australians, either, come to think of it." He said it with what appeared to be a friendly smile, as if he was enjoying himself as well. "Why don't you go and ask the Prime Minister?"

  "Tried to ask the British Prime Minister. Didn't work. "

  "Well then, maybe your own Prime Minister?"

  "I could. Ah-huh." She pulled a little book, similar to the first, triumphantly from the pack. She smiled. "But today, I'm American."

  The saveigni took the book and opened it up. "Well, Miss McLean, you are free to enter, but unless your friend here also has an American passport, she'll have to wait out here."

  Meledrin had had enough — being forced to stand in the rain and talk to a man.

  "Kim and I have information regarding the alien attacks," she said. "Kim suggested that the United States might be the nation that could best make use of the information."

  "It's all right, Mel. I'll go in and get someone."

  Meledrin ignored her. "Immediately inform your lord that we seek an audience."

  "My lord?" the saveigni said.

  "Yes, go and get her now."

  Kim put a hand on Meledrin's shoulder and pulled her back slightly. "Please excuse Meledrin. She's not from around here. She isn't aware of how things work."

  "Not from around here? What planet is she from, exactly?"

  "My world is called Sherindel," Meledrin said. She realized too late that it might have been a rhetorical and sarcastic question all in one.

  The man was no longer enjoying himself. "Look, we've had all sorts of crackpots turning up here over the las
t few days. None of them got in, and you aren't going to get in either." He looked at Kim. "I'm starting to have my doubts about you as well."

  Meledrin opened her mouth to speak, but Kim got in first.

  "Look, it's all under control. Meledrin will stay out here while I go in and tell your boss about the magical gate in Nottinghamshire." Kim turned to look at the elf. "It may take a while, though. I'll have to start at the bottom and work my way up to someone who knows something. All right?"

  "There's a magical gateway in Nottinghamshire?"

  When the savegini said the words, Meledrin suddenly realized how ridiculous they sounded. The look on Kim's face suggested that she was thinking the same thing.

  But the woman continued anyway. "Actually, your superiors might already know about it. The English army knew a couple of days ago."

  "A gateway?" The soldier looked at his nearest companion. When he turned back, it was clear that the conversation had almost reached its conclusion. Before he could say anything, though, a tall, aging man stepped into view from the Embassy.

  The crowd waiting outside the barrier launched into a cacophony of sound. They all seemed to shout a dozen questions at the newcomer, but he ignored them all and moved quickly to where Meledrin and Kim waited.

  Meledrin waved a Beginning.

  The man was not dressed in a uniform, but his bearing was much the same as that of the guards. Straight-backed and proud. "Ladies, my name is Mathew Gainis. If you'll just come with me, please." Instead of leading them back inside, he led them through the crowd and to the street. As they arrived, a large black car with dark windows met them. "Nottinghamshire, you say? Helicopter will be quicker."

  "You know something about this gate, don't you?" Kim asked as she ducked into the car.

  Meledrin glared at the stranger as he put his hand on her waist to usher her inside as well. She did not move.

  "No. Not this gate." The man saw Meledrin's expression and removed his hand with a slight bow of apology. "The English authorities have not been kind enough to let us know though we have had our suspicions that something was going on."

  "There's another? Were you kind enough to let the English government know about your one?" Kim smiled as if something was extremely funny.

  The man did not reply, merely hurrying around the far side of the car and climbing into the front seat.

  The car took them to a helicopter and that machine took them back to Sherwood Forest. It was much quicker than the train journey had been, but the ensuing conversation between the American and the local soldiers seemed to last forever. Eventually Mr. Gainis passed through the tree to Sherindel. When he returned, he immediately headed for the helicopter.

  "You, Meledrin, come from Sherindel?" Mr. Gainis asked when they were back in the air a couple of minutes later.

  Meledrin wondered how many times she would be asked, and by a man at that. She had answered the same question several times already. If it was taking this long for this man to be satisfied, she could not imagine the type of questions a Warder or a Lord would ask and how long the process would take. She sighed. At least it allowed her to concentrate on something other than the motion of the helicopter and the alarming distance to the ground.

  "You haven't informed the Brits of your presence here?"

  "They would not speak with us, though the soldiers spoke with me when I arrived. Have you found my companion?"

  "Yes, Palsamon was in the hospital where you left him. He's on his way to London right now. He'll be taken to a private hospital." The man checked some papers in a folder on the seat beside him. It had not been there when they exited the helicopter previously. "Kim, how did you get involved in this. A pilot with the Australian army?"

  "Not for a long time, years, as I am sure your records show."

  He flipped through some pages. "Usual, everyday stuff since. A few times to America?"

  "My father's family still lives there. They don't like my mother much, but they're willing to provide me with free accommodation."

  "And your father was in the diplomatic corps?"

  Kim laughed. "Something like that, yes."

  As the conversation continued, Meledrin watched as Kim spoke with the man and wondered what she was missing. Kim seemed to think carefully about every answer, as if they were all vitally important, or potentially dangerous.

  "So, how did you get involved?"

  "I just happened to be there when Meledrin and Keeble came through the gate. I've been backpacking."

  "Keeble? There's someone else? And you didn't think to mention this before?"

  "Well, you weren't giving me much time to think." Kim shrugged. "I don't know where Keeble is. We lost him on the train."

  "Lost him?" Gainis sighed and raised his eyebrows all at once.

  "Well, possibly he deliberately ran away. It's hard to know for sure. He and Mel don't like each other too much, you see."

  "So there's another elf walking around somewhere?"

  Meledrin laughed. How ridiculous. "No elves. An elf would not have become separated, either by mistake or on purpose. Keeble is a dwarf."

  "A dwarf? Oh, this gets better and better."

  "You are suggesting that I am lying?" Meledrin arched an eyebrow. The manners of every human she met left a lot to be desired.

  "Of course not; I went to another world."

  "Dwarves and elves, right?" Kim said. "You are wondering if you will see hobbits next. Well, get used to it."

  "Yes."

  He checked his papers again, though what he might find there, Meledrin could not imagine.

  "Any ideas where we might start looking for Keeble?"

  "No," Kim replied.

  "You know nothing that might help us?" He turned for a moment to look at Meledrin.

  Meledrin did not know why she had originally risked her reputation and standing in Grovely by deciding to help Keeble. She had regretted the decision almost every moment since. But she also wondered if the changing circumstances gave her the right to ignore the responsibility she had taken on. She looked away for a moment. "He will probably be repairing something."

  "Pardon."

  "He will be repairing something," Meledrin said again. "It is what dwarves do. They make things and repair things."

  "Great. That narrows it down."

  Meledrin sniffed and looked around at the interior of the helicopter. Like most of the human vehicles she had seen, it was cold and lifeless. Meledrin wanted to feel the breeze again, and rain. She wanted to be away from the men and their incessant questions. She wanted to be back on Sherindel. She had wanted to stay when they had taken the American to see, but neither he nor the English soldiers would allow it. They were battling the bats on Sherindel, strengthening their position and moving outwards, but had not managed to find many survivors. Some of their own men were missing.

  Meledrin sighed. Palsamon and Keeble were both here on Earth. Perhaps her place was here was well, but all she really wanted was to be away from the saveigni and the endless questions.

  9: Shifting Sands

  Tuki fazed out of the trance, letting it slowly slip away. Sounds and scents, colors and sensations followed one after the other like sand draining through his fingers, but the trailing edges of the vision clung to his consciousness like never before. For a moment, it was hard to separate the here from the there, to separate the now from the then. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his swirling thoughts. He felt a terrible sense of foreboding. When he opened his eyes, even that was gone, leaving him naked in the heat of the desert with just the memories. He blinked rapidly.

  The warm wind touched his dark skin. Sand set it to tingling.

  The day had drifted on, farther than he imagined. The shadow in which he sat had pushed its ragged edge several meters closer to the shattered, sand-choked well in the center of the square.

  "I have travelled far," Tuki said to the glass ewer as he took it up in his hand. He knew he should not judge, but he would never have tho
ught that such a plain item, made by humans, would be able to take him so far. When he had first found the ewer, buried beneath the sand in the corner of a desert-drowned house, he had thought it would hold no life within its flawed form. But life it had contained, and what a life!

  He wondered what long-dead human had possessed enough skill to produce such a wonderful Eye. And he wondered what journey he had made. Obviously it was a journey of many kilometers, for no such hills were in the desert, and he had never heard of anything like the strange snaking creature he had seen. But had he also travelled in time? Had he witnessed what was, or what will be? Or had he watched the meteor's destruction of the silver trail as it happened? And what of the other creatures — the three legged ones and those with the hard, colorful shells who rode the strange bats? There were too many questions to be answered by one young male, alone in the desert.

  Pursing his full, thick lips in concentration, Tuki turned the ewer over. It was a small item for him, sitting comfortably on the palm of his broad moai hand, but for a human it would have been quite large. The glass was green, cracked, with a single, simple geometric pattern that offered no real attraction. Finishing his examination, Tuki found no physical qualities to match the spiritual one he had already witnessed.

  He placed the ewer carefully onto his naked thighs. Closing his eyes, he once more pushed his consciousness into the glass. This time however, he did not join completely with it, instead just touching at its edges so that he could ask questions of it.

  The breath of the desert caressed his chest as he twisted his thoughts through the silicates, touching at the reflections they offered. The wind brushed gently across his thighs and stomach. It kissed his face and fingers as he chanted softly. It ruffled his dark, curly hair.

  But the ewer, thousands of years in the desert, held nothing beyond what it had already given. It provided hints of the journey he had already taken, but could not tell of its home.

  When Tuki fazed into the real world once again, letting himself down gently, the shadow of the wall had stretched its fingers all the way to the well, poking at the crumbling stones, the first tentacles of night groping across the landscape.