The Space Between Page 15

  Once out on the street, he finally found himself a quiet corner and stopped for a moment to think. He nervously wound his metal fingers in and out, in and out. An endless stream of dwarves went past, young and old, male and female.

  He might well have stayed there all day, wedged into the cold brown stone of the corner, but a black cab rolled by, all but silent in the tumult. He grabbed the arm of the dwarf nearest him, a dwarf in a grey suit with a silken leash tied about his throat. The dwarf shook him off, glared angrily for a moment, and hurried on. Keeble tried a different tack.

  "Hello," he said hopefully when he caught the eye of someone else.

  The stranger hurried on.

  "Hello."

  The third stranger smiled thinly and nodded, switching a small black case from one hand to the other like a rugby player protecting the ball. "Hi."

  "Cab?"

  The stranger missed a step then came to a halt. “[You want a cab? They're over there.]” He switched the case back again and, leaning, pointed through the crowd. “[Around that corner there. It's not far. All right?]”

  Before Keeble could answer, the dwarf had straightened and was on his way again. He glanced back once before he was lost in the crowd.

  Keeble made his way in the direction indicated. Stopping at the edge of the street with everyone else, he watched for a break in the traffic. Then, inexplicably, the rumbling, metal stream suddenly stopped and the people surged across, carrying Keeble with them.

  Around the corner was a long line of cars with signs on top. Keeble went to the black one at the front of the queue and climbed in the back seat.

  "Hi there," the driver said, adjusting a little mirror so he could see Keeble in the back. “[Where to today, sir?]”

  "American Embassy," Keeble said in reply, though he wasn't sure what the driver had asked. He also handed over a little square of cardboard the barman had written on.

  “[Not a problem.]”

  The driver talked continuously as he drove. Keeble listened, though he understood little and his attention was divided between the world outside and the little handle that rolled the beautiful glass window up and down, up and down.

  “[You speak English?]” the driver asked after a while.

  Up and down.

  “[My wife is pregnant again. Haven't had much luck with the first one. Little terror she is, so we thought we'd try again.]”

  Up and down.

  It wasn't long before they arrived at their destination, the large building with an eagle mounted on the top. Masses of people were still crowded around the front as if they hadn't moved since the previous night when Keeble had seen them on television.

  Keeble held out his money to the driver and let him take a few of the notes.

  “[Don't mind if I take a little tip, do you? A few pence is all. Good.]”

  Keeble stuffed the rest of the notes into his pocket as he climbed out of the cab and started pushing his way to the door of the building.

  Eventually he found himself standing beside a low, wooden barrier. There were more guards standing there, serious looking dwarves in green uniforms. When he tried to shimmy through a gap in the barrier the men barred his way and started to look even more serious. For a moment Keeble thought of using a bit of force but quickly decided that the men looked like they knew a bit about the use of force themselves.

  "Meledrin?" he said, hoping they recognized the name.

  “[Sorry, sir, I don't understand.]”

  "Meledrin and Kim?" He fluttered his hands in the air. "Big bats."

  “[Sorry, Sir. Please step away from the barrier.]”

  But the dwarf stopped when his nearest companion touched him on the shoulder. The second dwarf spoke into one of the talking boxes, and a moment later someone came quickly from the building.

  Keeble was allowed to pass through, though this action was met with a round of boos from the gathered crowd. He waved merrily to them all and set off a multitude of flashing lights. He wanted to go back and see what had happened but didn't get the chance. He wondered if he was going to be on TV.

  “[Hello, sir. I am Damien Roderick.]” He held out his hand.

  Keeble held out his hand to be shaken.

  “[I assume you're Keeble?]”

  Keeble smiled and nodded. "Keeble. Yes."

  “[I'm sure Meledrin will be surprised to see you, but not too pleased. And Kim will pleased and not too surprised.]”

  Keeble shrugged and shook his head. "I didn't understand most of that."

  The man shook his head in turn. “[Well, please, come in. The ladies aren't here. They stayed in a hotel last night and have gone to the airport this morning. I don't know if we can hold the plane, but I'm sure something can be arranged.]”

  "Plane?"

  “[You know about planes?]”

  "Not really." Keeble shrugged. "But if I get a chance I will." He smiled and followed the man inside.

  14: New Paths

  Tuki's knee was swollen badly and throbbed in time with his heart. He had fallen two days after leaving Danyon Ford and run almost nonstop in the five days since. The knee hadn't had a chance to recover and was not likely to get the chance anytime soon.

  He crouched in the shade at the edge of the village. It was the sixth in line from Danyon Ford. It was the one to which Keala, taking instructions from the 'book', had directed him.

  After running so far, Tuki was surprised to find that his resolve was not as strong as he had previously thought. Keala said that the mo'min was the rightful holder of a skyglass. Did finding a skyglass make you the rightful holder?

  He didn't know. And until he found one, it didn't really matter. He wore two cloth bags tied to his belt. One held his tattooing inks and needles in case he thought of something to put on the back of his hand, and the other was for carrying the 'glass back to Keala.

  "What chance that I will find one anyway?" he said quietly.

  It was unlikely any mo'min would have forgotten something as important as a skyglass when abandoning the village centuries earlier. He didn't think it was even worth the effort of looking. But what will happen if I return to Danyon Ford empty handed? It will take a month of extra duties for the mo'shi to be happy with my state of mind. But would his mind ever be tuned in to the well being of the village when all he could think of was Keala?

  While he had crouched, the night had gathered like a wolf pack, silent but palpably watching. Tuki looked up at the sky, catching glimpses of stars and moons through the branches. He offered a silent prayer to the Mother Blower.

  When the stillness continued undisturbed, Tuki shook his head and rose painfully to his feet. The memory of Keala's smile, the taste of her smile, pushed him forward. He moved as stealthily as his knee allowed, from one shadow to another, as if the creatures of the night might run back to Danyon Ford and report on his activities. As if he could hide from those creatures at all.

  He skirted the main plaza and paused for a moment before the line of rubble that had once been the wall keeping the single moai from those that were married. His heart beat loudly in his chest, and he turned to look skywards again. The moons and stars continued their stately dance across the heavens.

  With a deep, calming breath, he stepped into the northern half of the village, circled around the tumbled down remains of a building, and followed a wide, bare path towards the house where the mo'min had once lived.

  Hardly any of the buildings were standing. Most were nothing more than a patch of broken stone flooring amidst the tangle of weeds. Even the glassblowing workshop, sturdiest of all buildings, had been reduced to a low-walled pool of wildflowers. Further back, separated from the rest of the village by a line of eight tall, straight trees, was the home of the mo'min.

  "Under the floor, to the left of the fire," Tuki said softly as he crept through the remains of the doorway, stealthy as a thief.

  I am not stealing anything. Nobody lives here. Nobody owns the skyglass. He didn't think he'd convince him
self.

  At the rear of the main room was a low hump, now covered with moss and lichen, that might have once been the fireplace. But the pavers to the left had been well laid, as was to be expected, and time had taken away any edges he might grip. Grass had locked silky tendrils into tiny cracks, but that was all. On the other side of the fire, a small tree had sent questing roots to crack apart the cobbles.

  Tuki started there, levering up the first paver, digging his fingers down into the dirt and prizing it free. That allowed him to work the next one loose, and the one after that, until he had sixteen of them leading from one side of the room to the other.

  He found nothing.

  She said it was to the left of the fire. Tuki had no reason to disbelieve Keala. Why would she lie? So he lifted five pavers in another row, bloodying the tips of his fingers as he fought against the stones and the clinging grip of the earth. Then he disinterred another row, becoming more feverish with each fruitless effort.

  After the fourth row, he sat back on his heels, sweat coating his brow, soil and blood turning to clay on his hands. He would have stopped there, but the thought of Keala's kiss set him to work again, tearing row after row of pavers from the ground.

  Finally, as the third moon dipped out of sight to the west and darkness was almost complete, he pulled up a paver and revealed the edge of another flat stone beneath. He had another three pavers out in a moment to reveal the entire hidden stone. It was old and cracked, with a ring in the center like a handle.

  "Oh." He wasn't sure that he wanted to go any further. For a while he stayed where he was, on his hands and knees, as if praying to Poti. The night drifted on around him.

  "Keala."

  With her in his thoughts, warm to the touch, Tuki reached out gingerly and lifted the stone clear. A small box was revealed with a skyglass within.

  He had seen a skyglass previously, when he had attended the Mid-Summer Festival many years earlier, but to be so close, to see the stars reflected in the surface, was another thing entirely. It was about the size of a child's head, smooth and clear and gleaming. He reached forth and touched a shaking finger to the polished surface.

  With that slight touch the glass started to change. Darkening, warming. Tuki recoiled in surprise, and in moments the skyglass was nothing more than a perfect glass ball.

  Rising to his feet Tuki paced away from the hole. He turned at the remains of the fireplace and strode back again. "I should not be here," he said, looking down at the 'glass. He was prying into women's business, thinking that he could touch the very object that let the mo'min speak with the Mother Blower. "But Keala."

  Tuki stooped down and, closing his eyes, took the skyglass in his hands, determined to hold on to it no matter what. When he was standing at his full height, he dared to open his eyes. The 'glass had come to life again, and it was as if he held the night sky in his hands. He had thought that words were needed, but apparently not.

  In the center of the globe was a tiny blue dot with a square floating beside it. In the square was a line of numbers and another array of tiny symbols that surely meant something. Were they secret numbers that only the mo'min could know?

  Around those were a multitude of stars. Tuki examined the patterns that he knew so well. "The Skeleton constellation," he said out loud, when the six familiar stars caught his eye.

  Suddenly the globe was filled with the constellation. Beside each of the stars floated more boxes filled with numbers and symbols. Mikusa, the brightest star in the Skeleton constellation, was so close to Tuki's thumb that he almost thought he could touch it.

  On a hunch, Tuki spoke again. "Kiva." His heart pounded.

  The Skeleton constellation disappeared and was replaced by a blue half globe that could only be his home world. It took up only a small section on the side of the 'glass, leaving room to show the three moons, brothers of the sky. They were in exactly the right position. Mata and Ki'te were in conjunction. The third, tiny Rangi, was out on his own, almost touching the surface of the 'glass.

  Tuki opened his mouth to speak the name of another star when something new appeared on the globe. One moment there was nothing, and the next a tiny point of yellow light appeared and flashed close to the planet.

  Looking up, Tuki saw a shooting star staining the sky with its orange glow. His breath quickened. It was the same one he had seen on his pilgrimage, he was sure. And this time he knew it was true. The skyglass confirmed it.

  The meteor passed across the night sky in front of him. He watched as it turned, changed direction, and flew away from him along the line of Dry River. Tuki gaped, watching the darkness after the comet had disappeared over the horizon.

  When he thought to look at the 'glass he held in his hands, he discovered that the comet had stopped. He checked the sky again, but it wasn't there. In the 'glass it was accompanied by its own little square.

  "What do I do?" Tuki asked, for obviously the shooting star was a message from Poti. How could it be anything but? Was he meant to follow it? Or was the message more cryptic than that? Would he need the mo'min to interpret it? He shook his head. If he needed the mo'min to tell him what it all meant, then he would never know, for he would not ask and nobody would believe him anyway. That just left his own interpretation, and Tuki was sure he was supposed to follow. He was supposed to go beyond the horizon, into the lands of man.

  Tuki looked at the skyglass again, as if it might change and let him return to Danyon Ford and be married to Keala. But nothing changed. The yellow dot waited just around the curve of the world, and the three brothers progressed infinitesimally through their stately dance.

  He rose to his feet and looked back along the River towards his home. Sighing, he turned to limp in the other direction, on the tail of the shooting star.

  His hands were shaking, but the Mother Blower was calling him, and he could do naught but follow.

  * * *

  Tuki followed Dry River as it curved north into the hills. He woke with the sun each morning and walked or ran until it had long since sunk into the west, collecting food and water from between its banks as he went. He constantly glanced back over his shoulder, watching the desert grow behind him as the horizon retreated. It was a wonderful place, a universe all of its own, beautiful and vast and unknowable. Golden sand stretched for uncounted kilometers, broken by occasional islands of ancient stone. Poti was letting him see it all, but only as She led him away.

  Dawn and noon and dusk he would stop to stare to the south, bowing deeply and thanking the Mother Blower for what She had given him, and for what She was about to give. Then he would walk and look back as he went, making sure he did not miss any detail as it materialized. It was his home, and each new addition to the vista increased his longing. He thought his heart would break when the time came to top the highest rise and the dunes behind would be lost from sight.

  That was until he reached the top of the highest rise.

  The day before, Dry River had spread out to fill a wide shallow valley and gone no further. Tuki had searched all morning but found only dry, rocky slopes beyond. With much trepidation he had continued on with only the Poti to guide him. All that afternoon and through the next day and the bulk of the next, he had walked or run, all the while waiting for the cooling trees of Dry River to come back to him.

  The sun was leaning in over his shoulder as he trudged up what he thought was just another hill in a long line of hills. Each was rockier than the one before, each a little higher, but that was all. The novelty had quickly worn off, and it was just a slope he had to haul his aching legs up. The skyglass was an annoying weight in the sack at his belt. It thumped against his leg with every step until he thought he was ready to rip it away and hurl it back toward the desert. And his mouth was dry, for water had become hard to find.

  When he truly thought he could stand it no more, when he was telling himself that the skyglass didn't really want to leave the desert, he topped that final hill that marked the edge of the world, and st
opped to stare. Just ahead, the land dropped almost directly down, and a new world of color and life called for his attention.

  To the left, a golden crop of grain waved to him, a million little hands moving in unison. To the right, thousands of trees beckoned him forward with ancient, nodding heads. He wanted to count them but, closer by, a field of wild flowers danced for him in scattered groups. In another spot a fallow field of rich brown waited to see if he might rather the cool, clean earth beneath his feet.

  Tuki didn't know what he wanted. He stood in silence looking at it all. When the sun dipped its head below the horizon and darkness claimed the world, Tuki was still standing at the top of the hill, mouth open, eyes glazed and staring.

  When he could move once more, Tuki reached into the pouch on his belt and brought forth the skyglass with shaking hands. Holding it up to the moonlight, he spoke the word that brought it to life. He had accidentally snuffed the lights a few days earlier and spent a day trying to find it again. Now, he spoke to the 'glass often, wanting to learn all that Poti was willing to teach, but he always returned to the same view in the end. Kiva.

  The world was in the middle. Two of the brother moons were hanging close by, but Ki'te, which should have been around the other side of the world, was not displayed, as if the skyglass couldn't see it. Inside the orbit of the brothers was the meteor. The fact that it was completely still worried Tuki. He was not sure, but he felt that it should always be moving, like a toddler who would stumble if momentum were lost. But there were no women to tell him the ways of shooting stars, so all he could do was follow as the Mother Blower decreed.