The first blow from Dariats wooden cudgel caught him on the side of his head, tearing his ear. He grunted and dropped to his knees. The second blow smashed across the crown of his skull.
Stop it!
Dariat aimed another blow; laughing at the surprise on the mans face. Nobody does that to my girl. Nobody does that to me! A cascade of blows rained down on Mersin Columbas unprotected head. Rubras furious demands were reduced to a wasps buzz at the back of Dariats raging mind. He was vengeance. He was omnipotent, more than any realm Lord. He struck and struck, and it felt good.
The water pushed at Mersin Columbas inert body. Long ribbons of blood wept from the battered head, turned to tattered curlicues by the current. Dariat stood over him. The bloody length of wood dropped from his fingers.
I didnt realize what Id created with you,rubra said. The silent voice lacked its usual conviction.
Dariat shivered suddenly. His heart was pumping hard. Anastasia is mine. Well, she certainly doesnt belong to poor old Mersin Columba any more, and thats a fact.
The body had drifted five metres downstream. Dariat thought it looked repugnant, sickly white, bloated.
Now what?he asked sullenly.
Id better get some housechimps to tidy up. And youd better make tracks.
Is that it?
Im not going to punish you for killing a Starbridge. But were going to have to work on that temper of yours. It can be useful, but only if its applied properly.
For the company.
Yes. And dont you forget it. Dont worry, youll improve with age.
Dariat turned and walked away from the river. He hiked up out of the valley and spent the afternoon wandering aimlessly around the savannah.
His thoughts were glacial. He had killed a man, but there was no remorse, no sense of guilt. No sense of satisfaction, either. He felt nothing, as if the whole incident was an act hed seen on an AV recording.
When the light-tube began to dim into brassy twilight he turned and made his way towards the Starbridge village.
Where do you think youre going?rubra asked.
Shes mine. I love her. Im going to have her. Tonight, always.
No. Only I am for always.
You cant stop me. I dont care about the company. Keep it. I never wanted it. I want Anastasia.
Dont be a fool.
Dariat detected something then, a strand of emotion wound up with the mental voice: anxiety. Rubra was worried.
Whats happened?
Nothings happened. Go home. Its been a hellish day.
No.he tried to use the sensitive cells to show him the village. Nothing, Rubra was blocking his affinity.
Go home.
Dariat started running.
Dont, boy!
It was over a kilometre back to the valley. The pink and yellow grass came up to his waist in places, blades whipping his legs. He reached the brow of the slope and looked down in dismay. The village was packing up, moving on. Half of the tepees were already down, folded into bundles and put on the carts. Animals were being rounded up. All the fire pits were out. It was a crazy time to be moving. Night was almost here. His sense of calamity redoubled.
Dariat sprinted down the steep slope, falling twice, grazing his knees and shins. He didnt care. Faces turned to watch as he dashed towards Anastasias tepee.
He was shouting her name as he shoved the entrance flap aside.
The rope had been tied to the apex of the tepee. She must have used a stack of her wicker baskets to stand on. They were scattered all over the floor.
Her head was tilted to one side, the rope pressing into her left cheek, just behind the ear. She swayed slightly from side to side, the tepees poles letting out quiet creaks.
Dariat stared at her for some immeasurable time. He didnt understand why. Not any of it.
Come on, boy. Come on home.
No. You did this. You made me leave her. She was mine. This would never have happened if youd stayed out of my life.tears were pouring down his cheeks.
I am your life.
Youre not. Not not not.he closed out the voice. Refusing to hear the pleas and threats.
One of the wicker baskets had a piece of paper lying on top. It was weighted down by Anastasias goatskin bag. Dariat picked it up, and read the message shed written.
Dariat, I know it was you. I know you thought you did it for me. You didnt. You did it because its what Anstid wanted, he will never allow you an alliance with Thoale. I thought I could help you. But I see I cant; Im not strong enough to defy a realm Lord. Im sorry.
I cant see any purpose in staying in this universe any more. Im going to free my spirit and continue my flight towards God. The Thoale stones are my gift to you; use them please. You have so many battles to fight. Seeing the future may help you win some.
I want you to know I loved you for all the time we were together.
Anastasia Rigel
He loosened the thong at the top of the bag and spilled the six crystals onto the dusty rug. The five which were carved with runes landed with the blank face uppermost. He slowly picked them up, and threw them again. They came up blank. The empty realm, where lost spirits go.
Dariat fled the Starbridge village. He never went back. He stopped taking didactic courses, refused to acknowledge Rubras affinity bond, argued a lot with his mother, and moved into a starscraper apartment of his own at fifteen.
There was nothing Rubra could do. His most promising protg for decades was lost to him. The affinity window into Dariats mind remained closed; it was the most secure block the habitat personality pattern had ever known, remaining in place even while the boy slept. After a month of steady pressure Rubra gave up, even Dariats subconscious was sealed against subliminal suggestions. The block was more than conscious determination, it was a profound psychological inhibition. Probably trauma based.
Rubra cursed yet another failure descendant, and switched his priority to a new fledgeling. Monitoring of Dariat was assigned to an autonomic sub-routine. Occasional checks by the personalitys principal consciousness revealed a total drop-out, a part-time drunk, part-time hustler picking up beer money by knowing people and where to find them, getting involved with deals which were dubious even for Valisk. Dariat never got a regular job, living off the starscraper food pap, accessing MF albums, sometimes for days on end. He never approached a girl again.
It was a stand-off which lasted for thirty years. Rubra had even stopped his intermittent checks on the wrecked man. Then the Yaku arrived at Valisk.
The Yaku s emergence above Opuntia six days after it left Lalonde never raised a query. None of Graeme Nicholsons fleks had yet reached their destination when the cargo starship asked for and was granted docking permission. As far as both the habitat personality and the Avon Embassys small Intelligence team (the only Confederation observers Rubra would allow inside) were concerned it was just another cargo starship visiting a spaceport which handled nearly thirty thousand similar visits a year.
Yaku had emerged a little further away from Valisk than was normal, and its flight vector required a more than average number of correctionsthe fusion drive was fluctuating in an erratic fashion. But then a lot of the Adamist starships using Valisk operated on the borderline of CAB spaceworthiness requirements.