Nightmare

CHAPTER SEVEN

The cliff reached up to the sky. Atop it, Kendi spread his arms to the sun. Voices whispered at him, muttered in his ear, plucked at him with ghostly fingers of sound, but they didn’t bother him. They were perfectly normal. The scalding sun felt good on his bare skin, and a hot breeze rushed past him, bringing the smell of dust and baking vegetation.

And then he heard his mother’s voice. Kendi stiffened. He whipped his head around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but the whisper had already retreated. Had he heard it at all, or was he just imagining?

"Mom?" he said. "Are you there?"

The whispers continued to hover in the breeze around him, but none of them sounded familiar. Heated dust assailed Kendi’s nostrils. He strained to listen, his heart pounding. Every fiber of his body ached for his missing family. He missed Utang’s blue eyes, his mother’s rich voice, his father’s warm laugh, Martina’s little fingers as she took his hand to cross the street. Kendi missed them like he might miss walking or breathing. In some ways it would have been better if he knew they were dead. It was somehow worse knowing that they were out there somewhere, but he couldn’t talk to them, let them know that he was all right, find out if they were safe. It made him want to cry. It made him want to hit and scream and yell and jump off the edge of the cliff. Instead he stood and listened to the wind.

Just a word, he pleaded. All I need is a word. Are you there?

The whispering mingled with the breeze, but none of it sounded familiar. After a long moment, Kendi went to the edge of the cliff and looked down. The rocky ground lay some fifty meters below. Kendi wondered what would happen if he simply stepped over the edge. Would he feel anything when he smacked into the stones? Or were the stories true that you died of a heart attack just before you hit? He put a foot over the edge, then jerked it back with a little thrill of fear once, twice, three times. Then he stared down at the far-away ground with a hypnotized fascination. Finally he shook his head, turned around, and slowly lowered himself over the side. Finding hand- and footholds with practiced ease, he clambered down the sheer slope until he reached the base of the cliff.

A camel waited for him at the bottom. Kendi nodded to it. Camels weren’t native to the Outback, but centuries ago someone, probably an opal prospector, had gotten the bright idea that they would make ideal pack animals for the Australian desert and had a bunch shipped in. Kendi gave a mental shake of his head. The idea of packing a herd of foul-tempered, biting beasts that spit and smelled onto a sailing ship and then putting up with them for a week or more during the voyage across the Pacific to Australia made Kendi laugh and shudder in alternating doses.

A hold full of seasick camels, he thought. Would that qualify as sadism or masochism?

Inevitably a few camels had escaped and made their way into the wild, where they had adapted themselves remarkably well to the local ecology. The original Real People ate them as necessary, of course, and their bladders made excellent, if overlarge, waterskins.

"Sister, may I ride?" Kendi asked.

The camel spat something brown and foul and gave Kendi a look that managed to resemble a shrug. Kendi gave a great leap and landed on top of the camel’s single hump with the grace of a gazelle, even though the camel was taller than Kendi. The moment he had his balance, the camel took off at a galumphing run. Kendi clung to the dusty, furry hump with hands and thighs, whooping as the camel sped over the rough terrain. Bright wind and sunlight rushed past him while rock and sandy soil blurred into a single brown mass. They came across a billabong, a muddy water hole surrounded by scrubby trees and bushes. Birds called to each other among the leaves. The camel came to a halt. Kendi leaped down as the camel changed into a crocodile, which slid into the water and vanished. Kendi waved good-bye to her.

— …evan …~

Kendi jumped. This time he was sure he had heard it-his mother’s voice. She wouldn’t know his name was Kendi now, had called him by his birth name. She was here, somewhere. His heart came back into his throat and he spun around, trying to look in all directions at once. All he saw was the still billabong, the scrubby trees, and the endless Outback.

"Mom?" he called. "Mom, I can hear you! Where are you?"

He strained to listen. The endless whispering continued, but Rebecca Weaver’s voice wasn’t in it. Kendi closed his eyes, trying to sort through the babble of soft voices. She had to be there. She was there. It hadn’t been a mistake or his imagination.

The breeze died around him and the whispers began to fade. Kendi kept his eyes tightly shut, staring into the darkness behind his eyelids, listening with every iota of his being. But the whispers grew softer still.

"Mom?" he said in a small voice. No answer.

He opened his eyes and stared at a blank white ceiling. Kendi blinked at it. What the hell? The air was a bit chilly, and he was lying down. It took him a moment to figure out he was lying in a comfortable bed in his new room at the monastery of the Children of Irfan. He sat up, a little dazed. Was the dream the Outback? Or was the dream this room?

The Outback, he decided, and lay back again with a sigh. The Outback dreams were coming with more intensity and reality of late, but they were nothing more than a symptom of Silence. The monastery was reality, as was his room and his bed. At least it was a pleasant place, one he was beginning to like. The intense longing he had felt for his family faded until it was bearable, though it didn’t vanish entirely. He suspected it never would.

Outside the window, Kendi could see the sky had lightened only barely. Awake before dawn again. For a moment he lay in his warm bed on the comfortable mattress, luxuriating in the fact that he didn’t have to get up. He tried to drift back to sleep, but his mind was broadly awake. There was a whole alien planet out there, with a monastery and a city to explore.

And he was free.

Eventually he gave up sleep as a lost cause and pushed the covers aside. After a quick shower, he pulled on his-his! — new clothes, including the suede boots. He was reaching for the jacket and found himself hesitating. Should he wear it? Mother Ara’s note said it was a present, but it had been a terribly expensive one and he didn’t quite know how to react. No one had ever given him anything like it before. Should he write her a thank-you note? Thank her in person? Pretend it had never happened? For a brief moment he wished she hadn’t given it to him, creating this whole dilemma. Then he flashed on one of his family’s interminable visits to the Outback and the words of a woman who called herself Firestarter.

A true gift doesn’t put any obligation on you, she said. Say thank you once to be polite, and then use the gift however you want. She had then given him a set of fire-starting tools. They had been among his things on board the colony ship, though they had doubtless been ejected into space three years ago, along with anything else the slavers had decided was garbage. The thought made Kendi angry. All his possessions and those of his family-stolen or tossed aside, with no way to recover them. Irreplaceable family holograms and photographs, mementos, his favorite shirt, the journal he had kept for a year when he was in grade school-all gone forever, along with the three years of life Giselle Blanc had taken from him. She had also taken his mother. The anger grew until Kendi’s hands hurt and he realized he was clutching at the suede jacket so hard his knuckles had gone pale. He made himself relax his fingers and stretch them, wincing at the pain. The anger remained. He wanted to get back at the slavers and at Giselle Blanc, find them and somehow make them understand what they had done to him, make them pay for it.

Not that he ever could. Giselle Blanc was wealthy and on a planet far away from Bellerophon. And who were the slavers? He didn’t even know their names, let alone how to find them. He was stranded here on Bellerophon while his family lay scattered across thousands, perhaps millions, of light years. The longing returned full-force, mixing with the anger until Kendi’s skin felt itchy and too tight.

He flung the jacket on his bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The doors in the deserted lobby were wide open, and the air was a bit chillier than it had been yesterday morning. Tendrils of fog floated in the twilight among the branches beyond the wide balcony. Kendi thought about going back for his jacket, but didn’t feel like turning around. Still fuming, he went down to the cafeteria, dumped a handful of rolls onto a plate without really paying attention to them, and sat down at one of the long tables. An abandoned tray sat across from him, and he shoved it aside, slopping the dark remnants in the coffee mug over the side. Kendi tore a sticky chunk off one roll and stuffed into his mouth, chewing without really tasting.

"What happened here?"

Kendi looked up sharply. Another student, two or three years older than Kendi, was looking down at the skewed, coffee-strewn tray in confusion. He held a croissant in one hand.

"That’s my tray," the student said.

"Yeah, well, it looked abandoned to me," Kendi all but snarled. "You shouldn’t have …have …" Kendi trailed off. The other student had brown hair and a broad build, with large hands and impressive biceps. Wide hazel eyes looked out over a square jaw and an undeniably handsome face. Kendi swallowed and felt a flush spread from the top of his head all the way down to his toes.

"I mean …I mean you should’ve left a note or something," he finished weakly. "Sorry. I thought you were done and gone."

"No big deal," the student said in a light tenor voice. "It’s not like there isn’t more food. I’m Pitr Haddis." He held out the hand that wasn’t holding the croissant. Kendi automatically shook it. Pitr’s grip was dry and firm, but before Kendi could register anything more than that, electricity jolted his spine. Kendi almost yelped. Pitr winched at the touch but didn’t let go of Kendi’s hand.

"Pretty strong Silence," Pitr commented, sitting down and looking ruefully at his tray. The coffee had sloshed everywhere, mixing with crumbs from the remainders of Pitr’s breakfast.

Kendi shrugged uncertainly. "That’s what they tell me. Look, why don’t I get you some more coffee? I forgot to get some for myself anyway."

"You don’t have to," Pitr said amiably. "I probably shouldn’t-"

"Hey, I insist." Kendi managed to flash a grin. "Be right back."

Before Pitr could say anything else, Kendi left the table and hurried back to the food bay. Several silvery urns with spigots at their bases stood in a row next to a tray of coffee mugs. They reminded Kendi of the ones he had seen as a child in the church basement back in Sydney in the days before his family had become involved with the Reconstructionists. Coffee self-service, it seemed, hadn’t changed in a thousand years. Kendi drew one mug and was reaching for the second before he remembered that he hated coffee. He hesitated, then decided to go ahead with it. Otherwise he’d look the fool in front of Pitr.

Kendi put the mugs on a tray, dumped a handful of sugar packets and cream containers next to them, and headed back to the table where Pitr was munching his croissant. He accepted the mug without comment.

"What did you say your name was again?" Pitr asked as Kendi sat down across from him.

"I didn’t-sorry. It’s Kendi Weaver." He frowned briefly at his coffee mug, then started opening sugar packets and stirring them into his coffee. "I’m new here. Like I said, I’m sorry about your tray."

"I was pretty much done eating anyway. Just wanted one more croissant." Pitr looked at him quizzically. "You gonna drink that coffee or eat it?"

Kendi looked down. He had emptied almost a dozen packets into the mug. His face grew hot with embarrassment. "I guess I’m kind of out of it this morning," he muttered.

Pitr laughed, a bright, free sound that made Kendi smile and set his heart to pounding.

Quit it, he admonished himself. He’s just being friendly.

But his heart pounded anyway. He pushed the mug aside as Pitr drained half of his in one long swallow. Kendi watched him covertly, trying to seem nonchalant. The silence felt heavy.

Say something, dummy. "Um, so you’ve been at the monastery for a while?" Oh, good one. Maybe you should have called yourself Mr. Smooth.

Pitr put down the mug. "I was born on Bellerophon. My sister and I are both Silent, and there was no question about us going into the Children. I’m a student now, but I’ll be apprenticed pretty soon. Where are you from?"

Before Kendi could answer, two more trays landed on the table. Jeren and Dorna took up seats on either side of Kendi.

"Morning," Jeren said.

"Hey, Pitr," Dorna said. "You know Kendi?"

"We just met." Pitr drained his mug and got up. "But I was about done. I should go. Stuff to do before class."

"See you," Jeren said. Kendi watched him go.

"So what’s up with you this morning, guy?" Dorna said.

"Nothing." Kendi moodily tore another chunk of cinnamon roll off and felt his temper rise again. He was just getting into a conversation with Pitr and these two had to show up and chase him off.

Why do I care? he thought. I shouldn’t. I don’t.

The hell I don’t.

"Something wrong?" Jeren asked.

"No."

Dorna and Jeren both gave him an odd look but said nothing. They all three ate in silence for a moment, then Dorna said, "Today you register for classes, yeah? Given any thought to what you want to take?"

"I’ll end up in basics," Kendi said gloomily. "My scores were so low."

"I want to take sex ed," Jeren said with his mouth full. Dorna beaned him with a hard roll.

A while later Willa and Kite appeared. The five of them finished breakfast and trouped back up to the lobby where Mother Ara was waiting for them. A large bag hung from her shoulder. She took them across several walkways and up two flights of stairs to another building. Kendi was completely lost again. The numbers carved into the front of the registration building read "130452," but there was no street Kendi could see.

"How do they do addresses around here?" he asked, pointing to the numbers.

"By feet above ground level," Mother Ara said. "Everyone on the lowest level has an address starting with the numbers one-zero-zero because the lowest you can build is one hundred meters above the forest floor. The next level up is one-zero-two, and so on right up to three hundred for the people way up at the top. The next two numbers indicate what section you’re in-forty-five in this case-and the last number or numbers indicate what order the building went up in. So the registration office is 130 meters above the ground in sector 45 and it was the second building built at that level in this sector."

"Makes perfect sense," Jeren muttered.

Mother Ara laughed. "If you need directions to someplace, ask the dorm computer to download them into your data pad."

"Don’thaveone," Kite said.

"That’s why I stopped at requisitions before picking you all up." Mother Ara reached into her bag and handed each new student a data pad the size of a small book. "This belongs to you, even if you leave the Children. If you lose it, you have to buy a new one yourself or charge one against your future earnings. Upgrades are every two years or so, and those are free."

The computers gave them all something to do in the waiting area while they were waiting to talk with the registration counselor. Holographic screens were new to Kendi, and fun, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever figure out everything his little pad could do.

"That’s why you’ll take a course in basic computers," said Brother Strauts when he had called up the course requirements for Kendi. They were in his tiny cubicle of an office. Strauts was a portly man with a fringe of gray hair and equally gray eyes that looked out above a quivering pile of chins. His robe was brown and the ring on his finger was yellow amber. The course list on his holographic display looked depressingly long, but Brother Strauts assured Kendi that he wasn’t expected to do it all at once. "This is for the long haul, son. And one day you’ll look back on this and wonder where all the time went."

Right, Kendi thought. That’s what adults always say.

"Now this part here," Brother Strauts continued, pointing at one part of the display, "says you’re supposed to start flying lessons this morning."

Kendi bolted upright. "You mean today?"

"That’s what it says. Toshi will be your instructor. And it also says someone’s already put in to be your one-on-one."

"One-on-one?" Kendi echoed.

Strauts nodded, setting his chins to quivering again. "Everyone gets individual tutoring on meditation and entering the Dream. It’s a very intense kind of thing, and it doesn’t work very well in groups."

"So who’s my one-on-one?" Kendi asked curiously. The only person he’d really interacted much with here was-

"Mother Araceil Rymar."

Kendi wasn’t sure how to react, so he didn’t. Instead Brother Strauts finished registering him for a varied array of classes-history, language studies, beginning flight, basic science, mathematics, self defense, and Silent ethics. When they were finished, he found Mother Ara out in the lobby, where Kite and Jeren had figured out how to link their data pads together so they could play a game. A pair of holographic monsters wrestled in mid-air between them while Willa and Doran conversed on a nearby couch.

"You’re my one-on-one teacher?" Kendi blurted.

Mother Ara nodded. "I haven’t had a one-on-one student in a while, and I thought we’d be a good match." She hesitated. "If you don’t think it would work-"

"No," Kendi said quickly. "I’d like it, I think. Thanks. And thanks for the jacket. It’s great. I was going to wear it today, but it …I think it’s going to be too warm."

"You’re welcome," Mother Ara said. "I wanted you to have it."

That hadn’t been nearly as awkward as Kendi had thought it would be. And Ara had chosen him for her student. That made him feel special for the first time in a long time.

Jeren’s monster tore the head off Kite’s monster. Kite made a sound of disgust. Jeren’s green eyes filled with glee. "Wanna try that again?"

"I think we have other things to do," Ara said. "Dorna, would you show Kendi to the ultralight landing strip? I’ll take the others."

Dorna agreed, and a fresh surge of excitement waved through Kendi. He was going to learn to fly! Already he imagined himself at the helm of a starship, dipping and weaving through an asteroid field, dodging enemy fire.

Blowing up slavers.

A grim smile slid over his face as he and Dorna headed off, their feet clumping up and down more wooden walkways. The monastery was fully awake and active now. The starship daydream faded in the full sunlight, and Kendi became slowly aware of the number of Ched-Balaar around him and Dorna. He found it hard not to stare at them.

"It’s all right too look," Dorna said. Her voice was oddly soft, barely audible.

"Look?" Kendi asked, faintly embarrassed at being caught.

"At the Ched-Balaar. They don’t think staring is rude. They think humans are strange because we don’t look at other people."

Oh. So Kendi stared. There was definite grace and power among the Ched-Balaar, and they were so dissimilar from anything Kendi had ever seen. His mind kept wanting to categorize them as horses or cows or even giant dogs, but they moved so differently and made such odd sounds that they continued to attract his eye. One of them ducked its head in greeting as they passed, and Kendi barely remembered to press his fingertips to the middle of his forehead as Dorna did.

"You’ll get used to them," Dorna said, still in her soft voice. Kendi wondered if something were wrong with her. "I stared a lot when I first got here, but now seeing them and the other non-human Children is nothing strange at all."

"If you say so," Kendi replied. "Is that tooth-chattering and hooting really language?"

"Oh yes. I don’t understand it well, but I’m learning. Buck and Lucinda know it better than I do."

"Buck and Lucinda?"

"Friends of mine. Here’s the staircase. We have to go down almost to the ground for this."

The wide stairs wound downward around the talltree. As they descended, Kendi’s earlier excitement returned. He was actually going to fly. He hadn’t realized how much this actually appealed to him until the opportunity came up. After all, poor kids growing up on the streets of Sydney and mucker slaves working on a frog farm don’t think of themselves as having the chance to become pilots. But that had all changed now.

The landing strip turned out to be a fallen talltree. The stairs came down at the middle of the trunk, which was so big it formed a nearly flat surface. The bark had been sanded off and wide platforms had been added to either side. At one end, the roots of the monstrous tree made a tangle that reached two or three stories above the trunk. A small hangar had been built there. At the other end, the branches had been cut off, leaving a long, smooth expanse of trunk that made a perfect runway for small aircraft. The fallen tree left open a stripe in the canopy, one that would easily let a small aircraft slip unhindered into the sky.

One of the side platforms was occupied by a pair of ultralight aircraft. They looked to Kendi like recumbent bicycles with a giant mutated umbrella stuck to the top. One umbrella was red, the other was green. A pair of figures was bent over the engine beneath the red one. As Kendi and Dorna approached, one of the figures straightened. He wore black, not brown, and he was several centimeters shorter than Kendi. There was a slight Asian cast to his features.

"Kendi?" he said. "I’m Toshi, your flight instructor." He held out his hand. Kendi braced himself and shook it. But there was no jolt. Toshi smiled. "I’m not Silent," he said. "I just work for the monastery."

Before Kendi could reply, a newly-familiar voice said, "Hey, Kendi. Good to see you again. Did you ever finish eating that coffee?"

Kendi’s heart jumped. The other person at the ultralight was Pitr Haddis. His hazel eyes were merry with suppressed mirth. Kendi’s mouth dried up.

"Pitr," Kendi managed. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"You know each other?" Toshi said.

"We met at breakfast this morning," Pitr said with a smile. "Kendi spilled my coffee and put enough sugar in his own to put three dentist’s kids through college."

Kendi felt his face heat up. Dorna snorted and said, "I have stuff to do, yeah? Don’t crash, guy." And she left.

"Pitr’s working on his instructor’s license," Toshi explained. "He needs practice teaching, so he’s going to be your main instructor. I’m going to watch and step in if he flounders. That all right with you?"

Kendi swallowed. "Sure," he managed. "No problem." I think I’m going to need lots of help with my homework.

Pitr slapped Kendi on the back. "Then let’s get started."

"Am I going to fly today?" Kendi asked.

"Yep."

Kendi blinked. "No book-work first? No lectures?"

"We’ll get to that," Pitr said. "But with these babies, the best way to learn to fly them is to use them. They’re fitted with grav units which we can control from the ground, so if you get into trouble, the computer-or one of us-will just take over and get you down safely. You can’t crash." He patted one of the struts.

"How will this teach me to pilot a starship?"

"You need to learn to walk before you learn to fly, so to speak," Pitr told him. "You have to know how to deal with atmosphere under your wings, and this is a good way to begin. After this we’ll do airplanes and small shuttles. Before you know it, you’ll be hitting the slipships, don’t you worry. Ready to start?"

Despite Pitr’s earlier promise, there was a fair amount of lecture on safety procedures, flight control, takeoff, landing, and engine function. Kendi hung on every word, acutely aware of Pitr’s presence, how he moved, how he spoke, his gentle manner, his strong face. The time flew by until Kendi found himself sitting in the ultralight’s cockpit. The cockpit and the engine were both open to the air, and Kendi felt a little exposed. His heart began to pound, and he couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or from the way Pitr was bending over him to check the straps and Kendi’s helmet.

"We’re good to go," said Pitr, who wore a helmet of his own.

"Don’t we need earplugs?" Kendi asked. "I’ve heard these things get pretty loud."

Pitr looked mystified. "No-they’re pretty quiet, unless something’s wrong with the engine."

"They used to be loud," Toshi said, speaking up for the first time since the lesson began. "But that was a long time ago."

Kendi flushed, feeling like a backwoods hick. I’m only nine hundred years out of date, he thought. All life-Pitr must think I’m stupid.

If that was the case, Pitr’s face didn’t show it. "I’ll go up first so you can watch me take off," he said. "I’ll also stay alongside you once you get airborne. Toshi will stay on the ground with the safety computer, okay?"

Kendi nodded. A few moments later, the engine on Pitr’s ultralight came to light with a gentle purr, not the rusty chainsaw sound Kendi had been expecting. Pitr gave Kendi a thumbs-up, and his vehicle wheeled out onto the runway. The pitch of the motor increased. Pitr’s ultralight moved forward, picked up speed, and left the runway. It disappeared into the sky, becoming a red dot against fluffy white clouds.

"Your turn," Toshi said.

Kendi carefully guided the green ultralight forward as Pitr had taught him, then swallowed and punched up the power. The ultralight sped up, and Kendi could feel it start to lift. The wheels left the runway, dropped back onto it, then left it again. He was doing it! It was really happening!

"Pull up," came Pitr’s voice over the helmet radio. "You only have so much runway."

Kendi obeyed. His stomach dropped and leaves rushed past him in a green blur as the ultralight sailed up into the air. Ecstacy swelled in Kendi’s chest as he gained altitude, felt nothing but the bright and flowing wind around him. He glanced down and had the strange sensation of seeing emerald leaves far beneath his feet. Behind, the runway made a long rectangular scar in the forest canopy. The ultralight motor was quiet as a whisper, and suddenly he knew how a falcon must feel as it glided gently on the wind.

"Doing great," Pitr said over the radio, and the red ultralight dropped down next Kendi’s green one. Kendi flashed Pitr a thumbs-up, then clutched at his controls as the ultralight suddenly bounced and jolted.

"You’re okay," Pitr said. "Just a little downdraft. It’ll clear. Okay, let’s try a few basic maneuvers."

Pitr had Kendi bank left and right, gain and lose altitude, and fly in a steady circle. Every moment was exhilarating. Kendi’s movements quickly gained a deft confidence and he began to feel as if the ultralight’s wings were an extension of his own body. The ultralight wasn’t holding him up-he himself was flying. And it was glorious.

All too soon, Pitr said, "Okay, it’s time to go back in. You remember what I said about landing?"

Kendi nodded, then remembered the gesture was useless over a radio. "I remember," he said aloud.

"Great. Watch me first, then I’ll coach you in."

The red ultralight, easily visible against the green foliage, coasted smoothly into the long scar that made up the runway. Kendi circled the area once, then headed around to line himself up with the tree. His was only a little nervous-the ultralight responded to his slightest wish. He was just starting his descent when the ultralight jerked sideways. A strange scream hit him like a slap. Kendi yelped and tried to regain control. Frantically he yanked hard on the control stick, trying to gain more altitude. Kendi looked around in a panic, then sucked in his breath. A big creature with leathery wings, a long beak, and wicked talons was right behind him. The beak, as thick as Kendi’s arm, opened and again the strange scream tore through the sky. Kendi’s stomach turned cold.

"Kendi!" came Pitr’s voice. "Are you all right?"

"What the hell is that?" Kendi yelled.

"Dinosaur." Pitr’s voice was full of forced calm. "Shouldn’t be here. The pheromones-hell, we have to get you down."

The thing screamed again, its long wings flapping hard. Kendi gave the throttle more power and the ultralight jerked forward, though it didn’t handle as well as it should have. A quick glance upward told Kendi one of the overhead wings had been torn. He swore. The creature flapped its wings, easily catching up and gaining altitude at the same time. Kendi could almost feel its beak and talons reaching down to rend and tear at the cloth wings. He yanked the control stick sideways and banked. The creature missed. Kendi’s heart was pounding so fast he was afraid it would shatter inside his chest. He wished with every fiber of his being that he were down on the safe, solid ground with Pitr and Toshi.

"Kendi," Toshi said, "we’re going to take control of the ultralight and bring you down. Release the controls."

Another scream followed by a shudder. The creature’s talons ripped through the wing and tore out a great chunk of cloth. The ultralight yawed sideways despite Kendi’s desperate attempts to right it. Another scream. The beak punched through the cloth and a white pain speared Kendi’s right shoulder. He looked up and saw one of the creature’s glittering black eyes peering down at him. It was gripping the ultralight canopy in its talons. The beak punched downward again. Kendi braced himself for more pain, but none came as the creature hit something behind Kendi’s seat instead. Sparks snapped and the dinosaur shrieked in pain, though it didn’t release the ultralight.

"Dammit!" Pitr said. "Kendi, that thing hit the remote receiver. I can’t control anything from down here."

Kendi’s heart leaped into his throat. He yanked the stick sideways in a desperate attempt to get the animal to let go. The ultralight shuddered and dropped several meters. Hot blood ran down Kendi’s shoulder and his back. Another shriek and the creature’s beak poked down at Kendi a third time. Acting on pure instinct, Kendi twisted sideways in his seat. The beak slashed down next to him and without stopping to think, Kendi grabbed it and held fast. The creature tried to pull back up, but before it could fully react, Kendi punched it twice straight in the eye.

The creature yanked its beak out of the ultralight. With a scream of pain, it flew unsteadily away. Kendi’s knuckles stung. The ultralight tilted downward, and Kendi realized that the animal’s wings had been helping hold the damaged ultralight aloft. He was losing altitude.

"Kendi, are you all right?" Pitr demanded. "I’m taking off right now. Hold on!"

Kendi gritted his teeth, unable to spare the energy to answer. His shoulder was afire with white pain as he smacked the control that would activate the grav unit. Nothing happened. The ultralight was perhaps thirty meters from the treetops and closing. Kendi’s mind raced. Either the entire unit was shot and he was dead, or just the controls had been shorted out. Logic said there had to be a manual activation control on the anti-grav unit itself, but where was the unit?

Behind his seat. Had to be-that was where the creature had hit when things started going wrong. The treetops were less than fifteen meters away. Kendi released his restraining harness and, ignoring the screech of agony in his shoulder, twisted around in his seat. The unit was there, a small gray box clearly labeled and clearly dented. The ultralight tilted further forward and the trees were rushing up to meet it. Kendi tried not to think about what would happen when his ultralight slammed into the branches. A big red button winked above a sign that said Emergency. Kendi slapped it. Leaves and branches crunched the front of the ultralight. Kendi shut his eyes.

Abruptly he was jolted downward. With a yelp he managed to grab the back of his seat with his good arm. His feet found purchase on the control panel. He hung there, panting. It took him a moment to understand that he was no longer falling. The ultralight, tilted at a forty-five degree angle, was hovering with its nose nestled among the uppermost leaves of a talltree.

Air brakes? Kendi thought wildly.

"Kendi, are you all right?" Pitr demanded.

Kendi started to answer but all that came out was a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes and no," he said. "I managed to activate the anti-grav, but that thing stabbed my shoulder and I’m stuck here. If the control panel can’t hold my weight, I’m in for a long drop."

"I’m almost there," Pitr said. "Just hold on."

Kendi glanced down at the branches and leaves beneath his feet. "I have a choice?"

A few minutes later, Pitr arrived and, activating his own grav unit, put his ultralight into hover mode. Mindful of his shoulder and the deadly drop below, Kendi carefully climbed out of his ultralight and into Pitr’s. The cockpit was tiny, built a single occupant.

"You’ll have to sit on my lap," Pitr said.

Oh, gosh, Kendi thought. Do I have to?

"I’ll fly us back by anti-grav," Pitr said, "since these things aren’t built to fly the regular way with more than one person."

The ride back was uneventful, if crowded. The close contact with Pitr seemed to dull the pain in Kendi’s shoulder. They didn’t speak-Pitr had to concentrate on flying. Once they landed, Kendi saw a stretcher hovering at the end of the runway. Two women in brown stood next to it. Toshi helped Kendi out of the ultralight. Blood dripped steadily down his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"People keep asking me that," Kendi said. "I could be better. My shoulder feels like it’s on fire."

The two women turned out to be medical technicians summoned by Toshi. They got Kendi to sit onto the floating stretcher and quickly cut off his blood-soaked shirt so they could examine him. He hissed when they pulled it away from his skin. Pitr hovered nearby, worry written all over his square features.

"Looks superficial," one of the technicians said from her vantage point behind him, "but painful. I think we can treat this here, unless you really want to go to the medical center."

Kendi thought about the way Mother Ara would react if she learned he was in hospital. "No," he said. "Do it here."

One of the techs pressed a dermospray against his arm. It thumped, and Kendi’s pain almost immediately vanished. The other technician washed the wound thoroughly and pressed the ragged edges together. Then she cracked open a plastic vial and spread the contents over Kendi’s back and shoulder. It stiffened as she finished.

"This will hold the wound together and help it heal," she said. "You might have a scar, but only a faint one. I’m going to give you a dose of time-release antibiotic to keep out infection. If you get any symptoms such as nausea or diarrhea, call the medical center right away. Got it?"

"Got it," Kendi said.

The pair finished their ministrations, then piled their cases of medical equipment on a shelf beneath the stretcher and took it quickly up the stairs to the main monastery. It was only then that Kendi noticed how shaky his legs were. He started sinking to the ground. Pitr caught him before he could fall. Kendi leaned on him gratefully. Pitr’s arms were strong, and Kendi liked having them support him. He wanted to lean his head on Pitr’s chest, and wondered if Pitr would accept that.

Stupid thing to be thinking about, he thought. You almost died up there.

"It’s okay," Pitr said soothingly. "Hey, it’s all right. You’re okay. Everything’s fine."

"I’m all right," he said, still leaning. "I just …felt a little light-headed for minute."

"I can understand that," Toshi said. "I’ve got a few dozen gray hairs myself, and I wasn’t even up there." He paused. "I suppose I’ll have to talk to Mother Ara about rearranging your schedule. You won’t want to be flying again after-"

Kendi stiffened and came upright. "The hell I don’t!" he spluttered, and Pitr laughed.

"My god, Kendi, are you all right?" Mother Ara demanded.

"Yeah. Can I get a freemark or something every time someone asks that? I’ll be able to buy my own ship in an hour or so."

"Kendi," Mother Ara said, "you scared the life out of me. My god, this isn’t a good time to be flip. How do you feel?"

Kendi shrugged and winced. "Shoulder’s a little stiff, but it doesn’t hurt much, and they gave me some painkillers."

"I’ve already called the animal control board and let them have it," Mother Ara said. "The pheromone sprays are supposed to keep the dangerous dinosaurs away. I’m so sorry this happened. You must have been terrified."

"It wasn’t your fault."

"I arranged the lesson," Mother Ara countered. "Pitr says you still want to fly, though."

"Hell, yes. It was great, Mother Ara." His eyes shone, the pain forgotten. "The best! I wish I could go every day instead of just once a week."

Mother Ara puffed out her cheeks. "I don’t think my heart is up to that. Once a week is plenty."

They were on one of the monastery’s innumerable balconies. Clouds had moved in, covering the sky in an even wave of gray. The balcony was off the beaten path, which meant they had a fair amount of privacy. There was a small bench, and a green ivy vine had twined itself around the balcony rail.

"Mother Ara," Kendi said abruptly, "if you like someone and you don’t know if they like you back, what do you do?"

Mother Ara blinked. "What? Why? Who do you like?"

"I meant it just …you know …hypothetically and all."

"Oh. Hypothetically." Mother Ara drummed her hands thoughtfully on her knees. "Well, hypothetically I think you-the hypothetical you-need to tell the person and see what happens. After all, if you don’t say anything, the other person might never figure it out."

"But what if it’s the sort of person who might not like me-you?" Kendi asked. "What if there could be …other factors."

"I’m not sure what you mean."

Kendi swallowed, suddenly wishing he hadn’t said anything at all. "I mean what if the other person might not be interested?"

"I still think you should speak up. Hypothetically, that is." She smoothed her brown robe and readjusted the gold amulet that hung on a chain around her neck. "The Awakening Festival is next week. It’s a traditional time to start a romance. Maybe you’ll see the person there and that would be a good time to bring it up."

"Not me," Kendi said. "Just a hypothetical me."

Mother Ara got up with a smile and reached for her handbag. "Of course. Exactly what I meant. And now we have a lesson in meditation to begin."

"Meditation?"

"If you want to enter the Dream, you have to learn to meditate," Mother Ara said. "It quiets the soul and allows the mind to float free. Very, very few Silent can get into the Dream without meditating first, and it requires a lot of practice. There are practice rooms in a section of the dormitory. Ready for your first lesson? I promise it won’t be anywhere near as difficult as your flying exercise. It’d be a good stress-reliever, too."

"All right."

They went back to the dorm together, and Mother Ara showed Kendi to a hallway with a series of tiny, soundproofed rooms. Each room had a fainting couch, a chair, and only a teensy amount of floor space. From her handbag, Mother Ara took a bracelet and her data pad.

"You can meditate any way you like," she said, "but most Silent like to lie down. Why don’t you try the couch?"

Kendi obeyed. His shoulder twinged a bit as he lay down and he wondered if he should take another painkiller first. Nah. Best try it first without and see how it went.

Mother Ara fastened the bracelet around his wrist-it felt nothing like the shackle he had worn for three years-and activated her data pad. "The bracelet will monitor your life signs," she explained. "It also watches your brain patterns. It’ll help me see what level of relaxation you get to and let me know if something is going wrong. There isn’t much chance of that," she hastened to add, "because you’re not trying to reach the Dream just yet and I’m not giving you any drugs. That’ll come later."

"So what do I do?" Kendi asked.

"Just close your eyes and listen to my voice," she said. "Would background music or white noise help you relax? The computer can give us whatever you need."

"Drums," Kendi said. "I think I want drums."

"Baran," Mother Ara said, "play audio file ‘Drums for Relaxation.’ "

Immediately a soft 4/4 rhythm filled the room and Kendi shut his eyes. He was no stranger to meditation. The Real People Reconstructionists had been great proponents of it. As a child, Kendi had invariably found it boring and stupid, but now his views had changed. If this was the path into the Dream, the place where he might find his family, then this was the path he would follow.

He stirred a little on the couch. Lying down felt wrong for him, somehow. He couldn’t get comfortable. He shifted again, trying to settle down. His shoulder twinged again.

Mother Ara, her voice soft, took him through a relaxation exercise, and he was surprised to note that it was similar to the ones the Real People had practiced. It involved relaxing each group of muscles one at a time. Mother Ara’s voice droned on, telling him to empty his mind, let it go blank.

Kendi tried, but outside thoughts kept crowding in. The flying dinosaur’s long beak flashing down and causing white-hot pain. Pitr’s hazel eyes filled with concern. The sound of frogs peeping in the night. Rebecca being towed away, her shackles glowing blue as she reached for Kendi one last time. Lying down, he felt strangely trapped. At last he sat up and yanked the bracelet off. The recorded drums continued to play.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess I can’t concentrate."

Mother Ara looked surprised. "Actually you were doing pretty well."

"Are we done?" he asked, suddenly belligerent. "I’m tired. I want to go back to my room."

"Of course," Mother Ara said. "It’s been a difficult day. I probably should have skipped this lesson. Why don’t you go get some rest?"

Kendi nodded once to her and left without saying anything else.