That is so cool. "I'm really going to have to learn how to do that."
Or did she? Now that she was once again still, she could feel the feedback, definitely stronger. According to the models she ran, the orbital gate would soon shake itself to pieces, permanently returning Pittsburgh to Earth.
Which world did she want to be in?
Earth? With Oilcan, Lain, all the neat gadgets, the Internet, colleges full of like-minded people, and the possibility of returning to Elfhome anytime she decided to build a gate back?
Or Elfhome? With Windwolf and Pony, but no humans or techno toys, and the grim possibility that even if she could find the supplies, she might be denied the permission to build a gate back to Earth?
On the surface, all logic seemed to say that she should get up and walk into Pittsburgh proper before Shutdown. Go back to Earth.
But it wasn't that simple. In truth, she'd never been to Earth. Every Shutdown, she'd clung to her scrap yard and waited for Startup. She disliked the dirty air, the noise, the confusion, and the crush of people that Shutdown brought to Pittsburgh. Oilcan—who knew her best—predicted she'd hate Earth for those very reasons. It was a foreign other place she always resisted visiting.
Becoming an elf didn't make Elfhome her home—it only strengthened her tie to it. She grew up praying to elfin gods, practicing elfin morals, and celebrating elfin holidays. What did she know about being human besides beer, bowling, junked cars, and advanced science? On Earth, she wouldn't be a human with fancy ears; she'd be a displaced elf—just like Tooloo had been.
What's more, Pittsburgh was filled with oni disguised as humans, and by now, all of them knew she could build a gate. She'd never be able to trust anyone again; every new friendship would have to be endlessly questioned. Oilcan and Lain would be in danger of being used as leverage against her.
"Oh this sucks." Much to the healer's dismay, Tinker started to pace.
The feedback was becoming a hard pulse, as if the ground and the sky beat out the word "decide, decide, decide."
There was another crack of lightning, and she looked in that direction, but it was already gone and all there was to see was the dark primal forest of Elfhome. Trees. Magic. Sekasha. Windwolf. That kind of summed it up. The world she considered home, the people she trusted, and the male she loved.
But Oilcan, Lain, her datapad, the hoverbikes, people that understood physics, clever little gadgets, pizza, and pierogies…
She found herself at the far end of the bridge, a city block from the Rim.
Was she so shallow that she'd give up everything she loved for stuff?
Without the stuff, though, she'd been bored to tears at Aum Renau.
But she could have spent her time learning the complex magic of the spell stones. Windwolf had said that he'd teach it to her. She'd ignored it—in what now seemed like childish spite. In hindsight, she certainly could have used the power in the last twenty days. And the oni magic opened up a new realm of possibilities—creating solid temporary matter.
She paced back to Pony, the feedback beating on her even harder. Any minute now, she'd lose the chance to decide. She wanted to stay on Elfhome, right? It felt more like her home than Earth, with or without Pittsburgh.
Except there was still the problem of Oilcan—if she stayed, she'd lose him forever.
The hospice elves had moved Pony onto a stretcher. They piled all the various guns and knives on beside him, and then checked at the light bow, obviously not a sekasha weapon.
"Domi, your bow and arrows."
It was simpler just to take the bow and quiver than to explain they were Sparrow's.
She trailed slowly behind Pony's stretcher as they started for the enclaves, trying to decide. Go or stay. She got as far as mid-bridge before coming to a complete stop.
She didn't know what to do, and she was running out of time.
"You're still thinking like a human."
She hated to admit it, but Sparrow had been right. She was thinking of tomorrow, next month, or next year. If she stayed, she wasn't going to lose Oilcan forever. Humans knew Elfhome was here. They had all the technology needed to build a gate. They had the oni desperately cluing them in. Sooner, more probably than later, another land-based gate would be built.
She'd stay.
Only after she decided did she realize Sun Lance had been trailing back and forth after her.
"Domi," the female sekasha said, "I don't think it's safe to stay on the bridge with the air shaking so."
There had been no sign of fighting for the last few minutes, so she went back to the new palace construction site. From there, she had a panoramic view of Pittsburgh. She should have only minutes left. The feedback had become a low roar, and everything shook with its vibration. She found a couch-sized stack of canvas tarps to sit on and drink in her last sight of her hometown.
"Tinker? What's happening?" Windwolf called to her as he and the sekasha came out of the forest. "The oni tried to retreat to Turtle Creek, but there was something very wrong with the valley."
"What do you mean 'wrong'?"
"It was—fluid."
She considered a moment. "The veil effect must be extending the area of the gate, so there's several layers of overlapping realities all being disturbed by the feedback."
"What do you mean?"
"The gate I built for the oni is creating a resonance effect with the orbital gate. The veil effect of the orbital gate is pulsing the local gate." She made a fist and flared her other hand out over it to show the radius effect. She pulsed her top hand in time with the feedback. "It's doing Elfhome, Earth, Onihida, Elfhome, Earth, Onihida."
"The area affected wouldn't grow?"
"No. The local gate doesn't have the power to affect more than a few" — she considered the possible range—"hundred feet. I think a mile from the gate would be the maximum range."
"You planned it this way?"
"Actually, I planned for it to tear the orbital gate apart—which it should do any second now—with Pittsburgh going back to Earth permanently."
He glanced to the city below and then to her. "Then you're staying with me?"
"Yes, this is my home."
Silence fell while he was kissing her. Being in his arms, knowing that they had forever together, made the pain bearable. Still, she didn't want to turn and see the city gone, so she kept her eyes closed tight, and thought of only how much she loved him. The kissing led to other things, and he eased her back onto the tarps, and careful of her cuts and bruises, made gentle love to her.
Sometime later, he grew still and silent. "Love, I do not think it worked."
"Hmmm?" She rolled over to follow his gaze. Pittsburgh was still there. "Shit!" She rolled on her back to look at the stars instead. "Oh damn. What could have gone wrong?"
"Perhaps your gate failed first."
"Oh, I was so sure it wouldn't. It didn't on any of the model programs I ran."
"It is no matter. We will settle it with politics."
Tinker made a rude noise. "The governments of Earth are not going to want to destroy it—it represents too much money."
"We can compromise. If they destroy the orbital gate, we'll fund land-based gates to replace it."
It sounded like a long, drawn-out mess with the oni interfering at every step.
A streak of light caught Tinker's eye. "A falling star," she pointed out. "Humans think they grant wishes."
Windwolf shook his head. "I will never understand why a race without magic can believe that so many random things are magical."
"Wishful thinking."