He's not there. I called him. There's no answer and no trace of any other gating. Rhi, he's gone!
Nine
She headed for Grand Central at her best speed, which (this time of night) meant skywalking; but her concerns over this were fewer than usual. There were not that many people likely to spot a black cat in the dim predawn air, fifty stories up, and all the birds of prey were asleep.
Rhiow came down to ground level again at Forty-second and Lexington, and got herself sidled. She trotted past the Grand Hyatt, past a few drunks sitting against the walls, waiting for the station (or the nearby liquor store) to open; passed through the locked front doors, and hurried up past the waiting room…
…and stopped, looking around her suspiciously. There was something different…
The lights in the display area were mostly out, of course, with the station in closed-down mode.
No… that's not it.
Rhiow walked past the biggest of the mounted skeletons, strolling toward the back of the room. No one hiding here… That had been the first impression: something concealing itself, hugging the shadows, waiting… Nothing. You're nervous. Let's get on with business.
Rhiow started to walk out again… and then paused, looked up at the biggest skeleton.
Its position was different.
Impossible. The thing weighs tons; it's wired together much too securely to sag out of shape.
An illusion, then… born of the darkness, her nerves. The way the head hung down, the empty eyes looking at her, was creepy in this subdued lighting, seeming somehow more concentrated and immediate than they had yesterday. The nasty little front claws were held out in what might almost have been a gesture of surprise— in an ehhif, at least. Iau only knew what such a gesture might once have meant in a saurian. If there was threat in these poor dead bones, it was in the huge jaws, the serried ranks of fangs…
Rhiow thought suddenly of the back of the cavern that led into the deep Downside: the spikes of stone, the jaws ready to close…
She flirted her tail in annoyance at herself— there were much more important things to think about at the moment. She turned and galloped up into the brighter lighting of the main concourse, down to the platform for Track 30 and the gate….
* * *
Saash was there. So was another figure, an ehhif, sidled as well: Tom Swale, Har'lh's partner-Advisory. He was a little shorter than Har'lh, a little broader in the shoulder, higher-cheekboned, and with silver-shot hair: if anything he looked more like an Area Advisory than his partner did, though he wore the same kind of informal clothes this time of day, shirt and jeans and sneakers. His easygoing face, though, was wearing an unusual expression of strain and concern.
"It's nice to see you, Rhiow," Tom said, hunkering down to talk to her, "but I wish to the Powers that it was under other circumstances. Saash has filled you in?"
"Yes." Rhiow looked over at Saash, who said, "I've checked all the logs of all the gates here, and the Penn team has fed me all their gates' logs as well. No sign of any access by Har'lh except to this gate: no sign of his egress from any other gate in New York, and no sign of any private gating, either."
Almost behind her, Urruah came trotting down the platform, and greeted Tom. "You still here? There's no sign of him yet?—"
"None. Wizards all over are looking for him. But no one's found him… which is pretty unusual. Wizards almost always find what they're looking for, especially when this many of them are concentrated on the task."
"They're looking offplanet as well?" Rhiow said.
Tom nodded. "An Area Advisory going missing is usually a fairly serious sign," Tom said. "There's concern at fairly high levels."
"He wouldn't be— dead— would he?" Saash said, with the greatest reluctance.
"I don't think so," Tom said. "I'm pretty sure I would know."
"Oh, come on, Saash," Urruah said, "you're nuts. Have you ever heard of a Advisory dying in the line of duty?"
Tom looked at Urruah fairly gently. "Urruah," he said, "all Advisories die in the line of duty. Any exceptions are accidents or misperceptions on the part of the living. It's within the job description: we accept it."
"That said," Rhiow said, "Advisories are also tough and smart. Maybe not as powerful as they would be if they were younger; but who is? Could it be that Har'lh's still Downside, but held somehow in a pocket of influence of some other Power"— she was not going to name names at this point— "that is making it seem that he's not there?"
"It's a possibility. But I'm surprised you're eager to suggest it, since you know what it would mean."
"I'm not eager, believe me," Rhiow said; and a glance at the others confirmed to her that they were in agreement.
"Well." Tom breathed out, a harassed sound. "The only good thing about all this is that it's been a slow night; there haven't been any other accesses down here. We don't know for sure that this particular occurrence was aimed specifically at Carl… but we also can't take the chance that other wizards on errantry might fall foul of it. Were these other gates, I might be concerned; but this is the master system— all the world's gates are sourced out of the 'tree' structure that arises in the roots of the Mountain. That being the case, I think I'm going to have to get a little drastic, and insist that the gating system worldwide be shut down until we find Carl and get all this sorted out. It may be nothing serious at all…"
"But you doubt it," Rhiow said.
"I doubt it. The shutdown obviously isn't going to apply to accredited repair teams: naturally that's going to mean you. I'm sorry to put you through this again, Rhi… but you did the most recent intervention, and the way the Powers work, that suggests you're going to be the ones who can produce the result. How soon can you go down again?"
Rhiow looked at Saash and Urruah. Urruah was carefully studying a crack in the concrete: Saash was scratching.
Come on, you two.
This does not work for me, Urruah growled silently.
I hate this, Saash hissed. You heard what I told you before.
Yes, I did. Well?
They both looked up at her.
She turned to look up at Tom. "Dawn would be the soonest," Rhiow said. "I would prefer noon, though, since that way we can bring our newest member along. He's likely to be extremely useful, but not unless he's rested."
Tom too examined the concrete for a few breaths. "I hate to let the trail get cold."
"If there is a trail," Urruah said. "I'd sooner take a little extra time in preparation, and get the job right, if we have to go down there again."
"You're right, of course," Tom said. He stood up. "Let's say noon, then. I'll mind your upper gate for you this time: Carl and I have been working together long enough now that I may be able to help you somehow. Otherwise I'll be in a position to get you backup in a hurry should you need it."
Rhiow flirted her tail "yes," though privately she was unsure how fast any backup was going to be able to reach them, if they were going to have to go as far down the "tree" structure as she feared they would. "I want an override," she said, "on the number and power of wizardries we can bring down with us. I feel we're going to need to be unusually well armed this time, and while I know the Powers are chary of letting people throw spells around like water, I think our workload the last few days, and the resistance we met last time, are going to justify it."
Tom looked at her thoughtfully, then nodded. "All right," he said, "I'll take it up with the North American Supervisor."
"Don't just take it up, T'hom. I want it done. Otherwise—"
She didn't finish the sentence, but she was somewhat fluffed up, and didn't try to disguise it.
"You're willing to pay the price?" Tom said.
Rhiow licked her nose. Such exceptions did not come cheap. Of course, not even the smallest wizardry was without its price: usually you paid in your own stamina, in the work and pains you took over the construction of the spell, the personal energy required to perform it, and the energy you spe
nt in dealing with the consequences. But for extra services, you paid extra… and the coin was usually time off your lifespan. Days, months: a dangerous equation, when you didn't know for sure how much time you might have left… but sometimes necessary.
She licked her nose again. "Yes," she said.
Tom looked at her, and sighed. "I'll talk to you at noontime," he said. "Saash, the catenaries will go down in half an hour— that'll give everyone worldwide who might be transiting plenty of time to finish their transits or change their plans."
"Fine," Saash said. "We'll use the Thirty gate again for the access: having just worked on it, I'm happiest with its function. If you'll see to it that power is running to that one gate for noon—"
"Consider it done." Tom stood up again. "Listen, you three… I'm sorry this is going to be so rough on you. I appreciate what you're doing."
Do you, I wonder, Rhiow thought, but then she felt guilty, for the thought was unworthy. Of course he does. It's his job. All we can do is do ours.
"Let's go, you two," she said. "We've got a lot of preparation to do. T'hom— go well."
"So may we all," he said, and vanished.
* * *
The three of them repaired to Rhiow's rooftop and spent the next few hours discussing what spells they might possibly bring with them that would do any good against a force much bigger and more dangerous than the saurians they had met the other day. It was certain that they would meet such force, since they had defeated the saurians so bloodily last time, and (worse) because Har'lh's disappearance was almost certainly a provocation to draw them, or others like them, down again.
"My guess is that they're going to try something more spectacular than the last time," Urruah said. "If you're right, and they managed to sabotage the catenary… then worse is coming. We've got to get down there and have enough power to stop whatever we find."
"If T'hom gets us that override," Saash said, looking out over the rooftops as the sun came up, "it's going to make our jobs a lot easier."
"Plan for it," Rhiow said, "but also plan without it. I for one am going to be prepared to survive this intervention: I'm not going to plan to get stuck in circle again, either. I know the Oath says we have to let these creatures survive if at all possible— but not at the cost of our own lives or our mission. I'm going to use that neural degenerator as liberally as I need."
"So will I," Urruah said, "but Rhi… even an override may not be enough to save us, if the kind of numbers turn up that you're expecting."
"What are you suggesting we do about it?"
"Conjunct coupling," Urruah said, and licked his nose.
So did Rhiow. Saash just stared at him, round-eyed, then turned around and started to wash her back.
"I've been thinking about what Arhu was saying," Urruah said. " 'He's coming. The father… the son.' Something bigger than the rest of the lizards. Something much more dangerous… that was the impression I got, anyway."
Rhiow switched her tail in reluctant agreement. "You're saying you think conjunct is the only way we're going to be able to maintain power levels high enough to handle something like… that." Whatever that was: she was becoming afraid to follow that line of reasoning to its rational conclusion, even here in the burgeoning light of day.
"It means," Urruah said, "that no matter whether one or another of us has a lapse, the others' combined power will be able to feed the wizardry they're doing, and keep it going."
Saash sat up and glared at him. "It also means that if we go down there hooked up in conjunct, we all have to come back that way… or none of us can come back up again at all! If any of us die down there, the others will be stranded—!"
There was a pause. "Yes," Urruah said, "it would mean that. But think about the alternative, even with the override that T'hom may or may not be able to get us. You're doing a wizardry. Your concentration, or your power flow, fails. You blow the wizardry… and you die… and then the others are put at risk trying to keep you from dying, and their wizardries fail." He would not look away from Saash. She stared back at him; the tension stretched itself across the air between them. "Everyone dies. The whole job goes straight to sa'Rráhh. And not just our lives… whatever happens to them when you die down there. A whole lot of other lives. All those that depend on the gates working. Har'lh's, too, for all we know.— At least this way we would have a better chance of supporting one another's wizardries. I'm no hero… but it's all about getting the job done, isn't it? Rhi?" He turned to her.
Rhiow looked down at the gravel where she sat, her tail twitching. Finally she glanced up again. "If it were just me," she said at last, "I would sanction it. But it's not just me. There are two other team members who must agree to be bound in this manner… and this isn't something I can decide for the others involved."
Saash would not look at her. "I'm not going to ask for a decision now," Rhiow said. "Noon will be soon enough. Between now and then I'm going to have to go explain it all to Arhu anyway, which should be interesting." She looked east, at Rhoua's Eye, rising nonchalantly in the sky as if this were just another day; and from the streets came the early hoots and tire-screeches of the beginning of rush-hour traffic, reinforcing the feeling of normalcy, spurious though it was.
"It's all in the Queen's womb anyway," she said. "All we can do is wait and see how the litter comes out… and meantime, make sure our claws are sharp. Saash, wait awhile before you head back to the garage."
She walked off to her usual stairway in the air, leaving Saash and Urruah pointedly not looking at each other. Please, Iau, let them sort it out, she thought.
But she couldn't help but wonder how effective prayer was likely to be today, of all days….
* * *
The garage was deep in its morning business, cars going in and out at a great rate, and Rhiow questioned whether the ehhif working there would have seen her whether she had been sidled or not. As it was, she was, and she walked up the air again to the high ledge in the back, where Arhu was sleeping.
She sat down on the concrete and simply looked at him for a moment. He was sleeping a little more easily, if nothing else: stretched out long and leggy, rather than hunched up in the little ball of previous days. He's beginning to fill out a little, Rhiow thought, even after just a few days. A few months of this and he's going to start looking like a proper young tom.
If we survive that long…
She was aware, suddenly, of eyes half-open and looking at her.
"I heard you," Arhu said, not moving, just watching her with a sleepy look, but one that was nonetheless unusually knowing.
Rhiow stuck out a leg and began to wash it in a casual manner.
"Something bad's happening, isn't it?" Arhu said.
"Much worse than usual," Rhiow said. "Har'lh is missing."
"I know," Arhu said, rolling over to lie upright. "I see that. Or, at least, I know it's happened… but I don't know how or why."
He paused, as if looking at something else; then said, "You can't go after him now. Something's coming… trying to break through."
"What?" Rhiow said.
"The one who chooses," Arhu said, gazing out into the fumy air of the garage. "And the one who didn't choose. There's a darkness pushing against the gate; I see it bending outward, and there are eyes, they're staring, they want—" Suddenly Arhu scrabbled to his feet and pushed himself right back against the concrete wall, as if he had forgotten how to melt through it, and he started to pant as if he had been running. "It's coming," he gasped, "they're coming, all the choices, all the eyes… coming upward…"
"Sit down, Arhu," Rhiow said, and went over to him, leaning to wash behind his ear briefly. He sat, but he was still staring out into the dimness, his eyes flickering wildly from side to side as he watched what Rhiow couldn't see.
"This one's scary," Arhu said softly, his breathing beginning to slow a little; but his eyes were still wide, fixed on some spot out of Rhiow's vision, or anyone else's. "This one really wants to be real, this c
hoice. It's going to do it soon." He quieted a little more, but a few seconds later, he said, "They can't use the gates."
"I know," Rhiow said. "Tom has had them shut down."
"That's not the problem," Arhu said. He looked at her, with some confusion, Rhiow thought, and said, "All these choices…. How did we choose?"
Her first temptation was to tell him to look himself at the ancient memories the Whisperer would show him; but then it occurred to Rhiow that he was already seeing enough at the moment— he seemed to be caught in some kind of visionary fugue— and adding more imagery on top of it might make him even more confused or cloud some perception that might be of more importance.
Rhiow nudged Arhu down into the "sphinx" position he had been lying in earlier, and hunched next to him, tucking her forepaws in. "I suppose all the Choices are odd," she said, "but ours, well, it had its own quirks. We were made before the ehhif, supposedly, but well after the cetaceans and the saurians, of course. The saurians had passed by then; their failed Choice had killed all of them. There were a very few saurians, you know," she said, settling her front paws more comfortably, "who had rejected that image of world-ruling power that the Lone Power offered them. They took the vegetarian option to use less life, more sparingly— but there were not enough of them in the Choice to turn it aside, and they died under the fangs of the others. The Lone One's long black winter killed the rest.
"Then, much later, after the winter was gone and the world was warm and green again, our foremothers came. There wasn't any differentiation among the various kinds of feline families yet: just one kind, who didn't look so much different from us, although they were bigger, more houff-sized. They all ran in prides, and so when they grew into mind, the First Queens made the Choice for them, as queens decide what their prides will do today."
"What did It— what did she say?"
"Well, sa'Rráhh came and said to them that the way of life that Iau had held out to them— to kill responsibly, to take only what they needed— was just Her plot to keep them small and weak, living on subsistence, on sufferance, and eventually to make slaves of them. The Destroyer held out to them the promise of rule over the world, the kind the saurians had wielded: power and terror, domination, all other life fleeing before them. And the Queen-mothers of the First Prides, wizards and nonwizards both— because there are always wizards in a Choice, at least a few— considered the Choice; but, being People after all, they disagreed on what to do, just as the saurians had."