The Namura Stone (10 page)

Vion tipped his head to one side. “It
may
not be,” he said, clearly unconvinced.

Diva made a low growl deep in her throat, but tied a surgical mask over her face.

“All right, then, let’s get this thing over with.”

Tallen stared up between his two saviours. “My blood’s red,” he informed Diva helpfully. “—In case you’ve only ever seen the blue kind.”

She muttered something about giving him blue blood if he didn’t shut up.

The Namuri fell into a hurt silence which stretched into unconsciousness as Vion applied a generous measure of anesthetic. This meant that he didn’t see Diva’s face turn pale as she watched and helped the doctor. She had caused more than a few wounds in her time, but this was the first time she had been on the mending end of one like this, and it wasn’t the most pleasant experience that she had ever had. Drops of perspiration stood out on her forehead, and Vion looked across at her rather doubtfully from time to time.

At last, the job was done, and they moved out of the operating theatre to take off the protective robes.

“Will he be all right?” asked Diva.

“He needs blood,” said Vion shortly. “A lot of it. We need to find somebody compatible.”

Diva thought for a moment. “Mandalon has Namuri guards now, hasn’t he? We could ask them to test for compatibility.”

“Good idea. Can you go over? I don’t want to leave Tallen.”

Diva nodded. “But I will have to ask Arcan to take me. I’m not sure the Sellites would appreciate my wafting around their planet on my own. You know what they are like!”

Vion nodded. “I do, although, after the Second Valhai Votation, things have begun to change.”

SOME MOMENTS LATER, Arcan deposited Diva in front of a surprised Mandalon. His guards made no move to protect their emptor; the Namuri had recognized the voice in the wind, as they called him, even before he had appeared fully. They knew that the orthogel represented no threat.

Mandalon seemed pleased at the appearance of Arcan, although he looked at Diva with rather more hesitation. When he heard why she was there, however, he instantly inclined his head. “They will all test,” he said.

One of the Namuri stepped forwards. “Begging your pardon, Mandalon,” he said, “but we won’t leave you here alone.”

“No. I shall come with you.” The young boy, who had the air of a grown man although he was still only 13, straightened his shoulders with pride. “I respect Tallen and his sister greatly. Of course I will go. And he shall come here to recuperate, if necessary. It is the least I can do.”

Diva opened her eyes wide. “Are you sure? Vion said it would take a few weeks, even if the operation goes well. I was planning to take him back to Xiantha with me.”

Mandalon shook his head. “He will stay in the 1
st
skyrise, as my guest. I can protect him well, and he will be surrounded by Namuri to keep him company. They will stop him from doing too much, too soon. I think it is a small way to repay what Petra did for me. And we are a similar age; he is only a year older than I am.”

Diva looked down. She still felt sad when she thought of Petra. She had no idea what had happened down in that ill-fated corridor under the Valhai Voting Dome, but she knew that Mandalon would never be able to forget it. She looked with something very like understanding at the leader of Sell.

“You are right; he would be looked after here better than anywhere else.” She couldn’t see Tallen just sitting quietly if she took him back to Xiantha; he would no doubt insist on being an active part of everything.

“We will keep him busy, too. I suspect he will make a bad patient.”

Diva grinned. “He will drive you up the wall.”

Mandalon shook his head. “Not me. I shall enjoy his company. I will teach him Sell; he will be the first foreigner ever to be taught it.”

“I hope he appreciates the gesture!” The thought of Tallen having to get his tongue around complicated Sell words made Diva smile. She was fairly certain he would hate it.

“It is a very great honour.” Mandalon seemed to have sensed her amusement. His tone was faintly rebuking.

“I know. I just hope he appreciates how lucky he is.” Diva kept a straight face.

“Then, shall we go? I gather his need for blood is pressing?”

She nodded, and Arcan gathered them all up and transported them to the medical skyrise, to begin compatibility tests on all of the Namuri.

Diva sat waiting miserably until the transfusions were over. When she saw Tallen begin to regain some of his colour, she found her shoulders finally relaxing. Despite all her differences with the Namuri, she had grown to like his grouchy ways and dependable strength. She stared down at the immobile figure on the medical stretcher and pursed her lips. He had proved himself over and over to be one of the staunchest friends she had ever had.

When she saw him beginning to recover consciousness, however, she got to her feet. She knew the Namuri well enough to have a pretty good idea of his opinion of the luxuries of Valhai. He would not want to stay here; it would be better for her to leave before he regained his senses. Mandalon was right; a few weeks in the 1
st
skyrise would do him far more good than being let loose on Xiantha. He would have less opportunity to strain that leg, and Vion – or his father – would be close by to tender to any small setbacks in the curative process.

“Arcan?” she whispered.

“Yes, Diva?”

“I don’t think I am needed here, now. Can you take me back to Xiantha, please?”

“Of course.”

The dark shadows of Valhai were replaced with the bright sunshine of Xiantha as the shore of the Emerald Lake came into sight, and she was deposited gently on the sand.

AS SOON AS she could, Diva went to see Grace and the baby, who were now settled into the house Grace and Ledin enjoyed, near their own beside the Emerald Lake.

“He is even more beautiful now than when he was born,” Diva told her, putting a tentative finger forwards into the cot, provoking a gurgle. “Look! He is smiling at me! You have done well.”

Grace giggled. “You make me sound like a pet vaniven!”

Diva frowned. “I don’t seem to have the knack of decent conversation, do I?”

“Definitely not. How did your visit to Coriolis go?”

Diva shuffled her feet. “Tallen got badly hurt. He is recovering on Valhai.”

Grace stared at her friend. “How did that happen?”

“Tartalus tried to kill us.”

“Is that all? I am sure you dealt with that.”

Diva burst out laughing. “Tallen and Bennel helped. By the way, I went to stay in the Namuri camp.”

“Ah! That must have been … interesting. Did you take Raven?” Grace looked behind the Coriolan girl. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Six has taken her to the Donor headquarters. She is due for some of their mandatory tests and evaluations. They should be back before long.”

“And? How did you like the village?”

“It … it was very interesting.”

“Good. I am glad Tallen got to spend some time with his clan. I think he needed it. Will he recover completely?”

Diva nodded. “I spoke to Arcan a few minutes ago. Vion says he should recover all movement in that leg, though it may take a few months. Mandalon is taking charge of his recovery. He insisted.”

Grace nodded. “Because of Petra. I can understand why he would want to. I just hope Tallen has the patience to accept his temporary limitations.”

“You have to be kidding! He will be a nightmare to deal with. I was glad when Mandalon said he would look after him.”

“Mandalon is very kind. You know, we should bring him over to Xiantha soon. It is time that boy had some fun.”

“You are right. He hasn’t had much of a life so far, has he?”

Grace smiled. “We will see if the panchromes can invite him over. He should go around the Dark Xianthe.”

“Grace …?”

“What?” The Sellite girl raised one eyebrow. Her friend looked, for once in her life, rather uncertain.

“What do you think my name is? Here on Xiantha, I mean?”

Grace tilted her head. “That is something you have to decide. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wondered, that’s all.”

“If you want to, I can explain how the Xianthans work out their colour. The names come from that process.”

“Can you?” Diva tried to make her voice disinterested. “I suppose I should know more of their customs, shouldn’t I?”

“Definitely.” Grace tried to explain the process. “—You start when you were very little and come forward slowly in time. If you remember anything important, you stop and mark it with a symbol, which you must repeat to yourself. Both good and bad deeds count. For example, if studying under Atheron was important, you could think of a
vimpic.
”

“You’re not kidding. That is definitely a bad memory!”

“But did it define you? Did it make you who you are?”

Diva thought. “Not really, no. Being taken to Valhai as a donor apprentice certainly did, because I met Six, and you, and Arcan.”

“Then put that on your list and mark it by a symbol.”

Diva considered. “All right, done. Now what?”

“Now you move forwards and mark each important thing in your life with an object, so that you can simply run through the list quickly by remembering each object. Then you go through them all each day in your mind. You have to accept the bad ones, the ones which make you look silly, and embrace the good ones, the ones you are happy with. You start with no colour, and add or subtract colour as you go.”

Diva’s eyes were unfocused. “Yes, I think I see.”

“Do you really need a Xianthan name? You didn’t seem to care before.”

Diva stood up and stared down at her friend. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I think I do.”

“Let me see … how about the girl who had thousands of children? Or the girl who caused a revolution? Or the girl who …”

Diva grinned. “I think the whole point is that I have to come up with my own name, Grace!”

Her friend nodded. “All right. Remember, a name is only temporary, in any case.”

Diva looked into the distance. “I think the name I come up with will be permanent,” she said. “I have a feeling about it.”

“You will need to find somewhere quiet.”

Diva was silent for a long moment, frowning. Then her face cleared, and she gave a wide smile. “I know just the place!”

“Then I will see you later.”

“Definitely!”

DIVA SHINNED UP the tall tree as if she were still only 14. She had chosen the second tallest, the one she had first used when they found the Emerald Lake nearly two years previously. She put one hand on either side of the trunk and swarmed up the iron bars which had been hammered into place. Within a minute, she had arrived at the tree house at the top, opened the rexelene door to the minute dwelling and folded herself inside, arms tucked around her knees, her gaze fixed through the front opening on the now quiet lake. The children had all gone back to their permanent adoptive families.

She stared unseeingly across the expanse of water in front of her and began to run through her whole life.

Really, she realized, nothing much had happened to her until she had been sent to Valhai by her father. Oh, she had practiced fighting, and she had had countless tutors, and her mother had spent much time trying to instill protocol into her unruly head, but she didn’t feel that the process had defined her. She moved on. Her mind caught on the moment she had met Six. She could still see the dirty, untidy, street-smart boy who had clashed with her in the Coriolan orbital station. She smiled in the tree house. She would remember that by thinking of a shoe. She recalled throwing one of her shoes at him.

Then there was the operation. Waking up after that operation had been devastating for a girl who knew that she no longer would inherit the meritocracy. She would remember that through the scar, the scar which still disfigured her.

The escape, and Grace, together with Arcan. Creating the mass grave for the other donor victims. Helping Six to escape. She would remember that by the sign they had put up over the grave site.

Looking for Six’s sisters on Kwaide. That would be a peach, a peach thrown half-eaten to a mass of infra-alive untouchables suffocating on the fumes of the conduits of Benefice.

The agonizing trip through the fuel pipes of Kwaide at the end of the civil war there. The declaration of New Kwaide, and sharing a detox shower with Six up on the Kwaide Orbital Space Station. That would be the mangled remains of the shuttle on New Kwaide.

Then there was Pictoria, and the avifauna. Going to a planet so far away, and finding the ortholiquid lake with Six. That would be an avifauna, of course.

The moment on Xiantha when Six agreed to father the remaining 50 children, unknowingly marry her and allow her to regain her rights to the meritocracy of Coriolis. Raven would represent that. Those awful moments on Xiantha when they thought that Grace was dead. That would have to be the cage, the cage around the Xianthes.

Dessia, going down that spiral entry slide with Six clutching on behind her. The exit tube with its two hatches would remind her of that. Then the war with the Dessites, with all the canths overcoming the huge wall. The diamond aura would bring that back. And now, in some strange way, she felt that the visit to the clan had influenced her too, although she couldn’t say why. The namura stone would represent that. She touched the necklace at her throat, where the stone flashed its colour between deeply ingrained dark veins.

Diva stretched. The sun had moved across the sky while she had been thinking about the past, and she knew that Six would be worried. She tried to recapitulate, remembering the list of objects, and ticking each one off with her fingers. The shoe, the scar, the sign, peach, fuel pipe, avifauna, Raven, the cage, the diamond and the namura stone. Should she include Tartalus? No, she wouldn’t give him that honour. She went over the list again. Shoe, scar, sign, peach, shuttle remains, avifauna, Raven, cage, diamond, stone. It seemed a short list. She was surprised how many things hadn’t defined her. As she thought about that, she realized something with a tremendous thump of disbelief.