Shadowkill

11

Rose came from the fresher, went to the mirror. She inspected herself, leaned closer, touched a fingertip to the slight sag under her eyes.

“Rose.”

She straightened, wheeled, relaxed. “Kuna.”

“Right.” He dug his fingers into the folds under his jaw; he’d turned his options around and over and around again, he still wasn’t sure about it, but he’d decided the truth was best and this was the best time to tell it. “Ah… mmm. Barracuda is Omphalos all right. He made a com call the first break. Black House. He’s arranged to have you picked up the moment you leave the Shimmery.”

She moved her shoulders, looked irritated. “I don’t NEED this.”

“Thought I’d better tell you.”

“Yes yes, you’re right. You’ve got your stunner… of course you have. Look. The next break, it’s for a sleep session. Six hours. You remember… ah… according to…” She touched her lips, frowned. “I was told he’d come by flit, if he came at all. It has to be parked somewhere close. While we’re sleeping, you think you could find it?”

“Oh, yes.”

She didn’t try telling him what to do when he found it; one good result of a touch of healthy paranoia about being overheard, it kept her from belaboring the obvious, something she had a tendency to do. Irritating to be treated like a subnormal child.

“Right.” She sighed. “It’s back to work.” She caught up the hood, slipped it over her head, adjusted the eyeholes. “Let’s go, Li’l Liz.”

Sunhawk was waiting when she walked in, standing apart from the others. His hood was a gesture, no more; everyone in the room knew who they entertained. His eyes flickered as Kikun slipped in behind her, then he forgot, Kikun’s Gift wiping the image away, abetted by the obsession growing in him, an obsession that became apparent as soon as he spoke.

He touched her arm. “Autumn Rose,” he said. His voice was a caress. “I haven’t seen such play in years.”

“Oh,” she said. “I suggest you find a mirror; you’ll see a better one than I am.”

“Gracefully said, but not true.” His fingers stroked the bird on the rayed circle. “Is this your profession?”

“No, I play when I have the time and funds. My life is elsewhere and I prefer it that way. A diet of desserts is quickly boring.”

“Hmm. There’s no time at the moment, the game is about to begin again. Consider changing your mind. I offer security-no, more than that-luxury, anything you want. All I ask is a game now and then.” He lifted a hand. “No. Don’t give your answer now. Not till the end of this Game. Consider where you are and what I can give you.”

Kikun’s ears twitched. The voice was genial, the words innocuous, but the intent behind them… Oh, Rose, it’s almost comical, half of Tos Tous is going to be waiting out there ready to grab you.

Grandmother Ghost the Lael-Lenox pinched his arm: Just like a male, look at him, preening like a fool, tchah! just because that bitty chile does something he wants to get his hands on, he reaches out and grabs, didn’t his mamah teach him better? But what’s a mamah to a man once he gets his growth? You try going on like that round me, baby, I’ll snatch you skinless, you hear?

Otter leaned over, patted Grandmother Ghost on her head with his stubby handpaw:

You doing THAT dance again, old woman? Boring, boring, we heard it all before. Heard it all, heard it all, kvetching carping, boring, boring.

I stop carping when you get a brain, hair fool!

Kikun turned them all out, leaned against the wall, and tried to sleep. The Lael-Lenox was the sole female in his personal clutch of gods and sometimes found it necessary to defend all females in sight.

When she was in one of those moods, she was capable of raising such a storm, he threatened more than once to exorcise them all and find his peace in absolute, unadorned reason. The ultimate atheism.

They were powerful, though, these gods he’d birthed for himself from his flesh and soul and the collective experience of his people. They were not, perhaps had never been-even in their crudest form when he was a child groping toward consciousness-merely convenient ways of dealing with parts of himself he was incapable of understanding. He knew on one level that the only reality they had was what he chose to give them, but at a deeper level by far, he NEEDED them. They had a grip on him he’d never shake loose. Most of the time he didn’t want to. Most of the time.

He slept.