“There’s no danger of his falling now,” Creyn said. “We’ll make him more comfortable later. Now we had better ride on.”
Bryan demanded, “Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?” Lacking a torc, he had missed a great deal of the byplay, which had been telepathic.
A stocky man with tow-colored hair and a vaguely Oriental cast to his features pointed a finger at Aiken Drum. “Ask that one. He started it.”
Aiken grinned and twiddled his silver torc. Several white moths appeared suddenly out of the darkness and began orbiting Sukey’s head in a crazy halo. “Just a little do-goodery gone baddery!”
“Stop that,” Creyn commanded. The moths flew away. The tall Tanu addressed Aiken in a tone of veiled menace. “Sukey was the agent, but it is obvious that you were the instigator. You amused yourself by placing your friend and this inexperienced woman in mortal danger.”
Aiken’s golliwog face was unrepentant “Ah. She seemed strong enough. Nobody forced her to mess with him.”
Sukey spoke up. Her voice had a ring of stubborn self-righteousness. “I was only trying to help. He was in desperate need! None of the rest of you seemed to care!”
Creyn said with asperity, “This was not the time or the place to undertake a difficult redaction. Stein would have been treated in good time.”
“Let me get this straight,” said Bryan. “She tried to alter his mind?”
“She tried to heal him,” Elizabeth said. “I suppose Aiken urged her to try out her new metabilities, just as he’s been testing his own. But she couldn’t handle it.”
“Stop talking about me as though I were a child!” Sukey exclaimed. “So I bit off more than I could chew. But I meant well!”
There was a harsh laugh from the towhead, whose silver torc was nearly concealed by a plaid flannel shirt. He wore heavy twill trousers and woodsman’s boots with lug soles. “You meant well! Some day that’ll be humanity’s epitaph! Even that damned Madame Guderian meant well when she let people pass into this hell-world.”
Creyn said, “It will be hell for you only if you make it so, Raimo. Now we must ride on. Elizabeth, if you feel able, would you help Sukey to understand something of her new power? At least advise her of the limitations she must accept for now.”
“I suppose I had better.”
Aiken rode close to scowling Sukey and patted her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “There now, sweets. The past mistress of mind-bendery will give you a flash course, and then you can work on me! Iguarantee not to gobble you alive. We’ll have lots of fun while you straighten out the kinks in my poor little evil soul!”
Elizabeth’s mind reached out and gave Aiken a tweak that made him squawk out loud. “Enough of you, my lad. Go practice working your will on bats or hedgehogs or something.”
“I’ll give you bats,” Aiken promised darkly. He urged his mount forward along the wide track, and the cavalcade began to move once more.
Elizabeth opened to Sukey, gentling the woman’s fear and discomfiture. I would like to help you. Little mindsister. Be at ease. Yes? (Bloody-minded stubborn chagrin breaking down slowly.) Oh why not. I did make a terrible hash of it.
All over now. Relax Let me know you…
Sue-Gwen Davies, aged twenty-seven, born and raised on the last of the Old World orbital colonies. A former juvenile officer full of sturdy empathy and maternal concern for her wretched young clients. The adolescents of the satellite had mounted an insurrection, rebelling against the unnatural life chosen for them by technocratic idealist grandparents, and the Milieu had belatedly ruled that the colony must be disbanded. Sukey Davies had rejoiced even as her job became redundant. She had no loyalty to the satellite, no philosophical commitment to the experiment that had become obsolete at the very moment that the Great Intervention commenced. All of Sukey’s working hours had been spent trying to cope with children who stubbornly resisted the conditioning necessary for life in an orbiting beehive.
When the satellite colony was terminated, Sukey came down to Earth, that world seen below for so many aching years. Paradise and peace existed down there. She was sure of it! Earth was Eden. But the real promised land was not to be found on Earth’s manicured, busy continents.
It was inside the planet.
Elizabeth came up short. Sukey’s mind was moderately intelligent, strong-willed, kindly, latent in high redactability and moderate farsense. But Sukey Davies was also firmly convinced that the planet Earth was hollow! Old-fashioned microfiche books smuggled onto the satellite by bored eccentrics and cultists had introduced her to the ideas of Bender and Giannini and Palmer and Bernard and Souza. Sukey had been enthralled by the notion of a hollow Earth lit by a small central sun, a land of tranquillity and invincible goodness, peopled by dwarfish gentlefolk possessing all wisdom and delight. Had not the ancients told tales of subterranean Asar, Avalon, the Elysian Fields, Ratmansu, and Ultima Thule? Even Buddhist Agharta was supposed to be connected by tunnels to the lamaseries of Tibet. These dreams seemed not at all outré to Sukey, the in habitant of the inside surface of a twenty-kilometer-long spinning cylinder in space. It was logical that Earth be hollow, too. So Sukey came down to the Old World, where people smiled as she explained what she was looking for. Quite a few helped relieve her of her severance pay as she pursued her quest. There were not, she discovered from expensive personal inspection, mirage-shielded polar apertures leading to the planetary interior, as claimed by some of the old writers; nor was she able to gain entrance to the underworld via the purported caves in Xizang. Finally she had gone to Brazil, where one author said there was a tunnel to Agharta located in the remote Serra do Roncador. An old Murcego Indian, sensing an additional gratuity, told her that the tunnel had indeed once existed; but unfortunately it had been closed by an earthquake “many thousands” of years in the past.
Sukey pondered this pronouncement for three tearful weeks before concluding that she would surely be able to find the way into the hollow Earth by traveling back into time. She had dressed herself in robes reflecting her Welsh heritage and come eagerly to the Pliocene, where…
Creyn says his people founded the paradise!
Oh Sukey.
Yes, yes! And I powerful healer can belong! Creyn’s promise!
Calm. You can become metapractitioner of stature. But not instantly. Much, much to learn dear. Trust listen follow then act.
Want/need to. Poor Stein! Other poor ones I can help. Feeling them all around us do you feel too?…
Elizabeth withdrew from the fidgeting immaturity of Sukey’s mind and cast about. There was something. Something completely alien to her experience that had only glimmered on the fringes of her perception earlier in the evening. What was it? The enigma would not resolve itself into a mental image she could identify. Not yet. And so Elizabeth put the problem aside and returned to the task of instructing Sukey. The job was a difficult one that would keep her busy for quite some time, for which thanks be to God.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bound for the River Rhône, the party rode for three more hours into the deepening night and coolness, coming down from the plateau via a steep trail with precarious switchbacks into a forest so thick that the bright light of the stars was blocked out. The two soldiers ignited tall flambeaux; one man rode in the van and the other at the rear. They continued their eastward progress while eerie shadows seemed to follow them among the massive gnarled trees.
“Spooky, isn’t it?” Aiken inquired of Raimo, who was now riding beside him. “Can’t you just imagine these big old cork oaks and chestnuts reaching out to grab you?”