and clutched at his head.
For a brief, horrible moment I wondered what this was doing to him. The Keeper was debris, and debris was killing this woman. Could he feel it? Did he know what her pion bindings tasted like? And yet, he could not stop it. By turning the debris into this monstrous thing, the puppet men had taken the Keeper’s control away.
Ancient guardian he might be. But with so much debris taken from him, tortured and animated into things like this, just what was he now?
How sane could the Keeper remain?
The Hon Ji woman’s screaming subsided. The Keeper fell to his knees, still clutching his head. Through the silence I heard footsteps clearly, more than one person but made in perfect unison, walking slowly, echoing oddly against the walls and the tanks and the loops around me. Then voices, carefully loud enough, it seemed to me, just so I could hear them.
“Only an abandoned factory,” one said. “This is not what we are looking for.”
“Not deep enough,” a second puppet man continued. “And not old enough, for a connection through the veil.”
“Not a waste of time though.” Their voices were all the same. It was impossible to tell them apart, or even how many there were.
“Not at all.”
The Keeper lifted his head. His face was in darkness, his eyes spilling as though cut. “She is a Half, Tanyana. Please. She is a Half.”
A Half? Which way were those footsteps going? Was Lad still waiting in the factory like I had told him? Waiting, and alone? But they didn’t know what he was, did they? If they did, he would have been taken by now. The puppet men had already proven how easily they could step into our lives.
Torn between the puppet men and the muted thrashing of a Hon Ji Half, I wavered. The woman rattled her words again.
“She is begging you, Tanyana.”
That returned my attention to the Keeper. “You can understand her?”
“Of course.” He turned his weeping eyes to what remained of his Half. “ Please, stop the hurt. Please, didn’t mean to. Please .”
“Stop.” My whole body wracked. I could hear Lad saying those words in his clipped half-language. And it hurt me to know this poor, writhing creature was the same.
I crouched, shuffled as slowly and non-threatening as I could manage. “Can you tell her I’m not going to hurt her?”
The Keeper said something. She gasped back noises that could have been words. He hesitated.
“What did she say?”
He folded forward, so he was on his hands and knees, and approached us. “I’m not sure. She thinks you are some kind of… Something like the Other.”
“I thought you understood her.”
“I do. I did. But I have spent so much time in Varsnia and I forget things. Sometimes. There are so many more doors here than anywhere else. So I have to stay here. You see. For so long.”
I nodded. “Then please tell her I am not the Other. Or whatever she thinks I am. Tell her I work with you, and I want to help.”
As the Keeper and the Hon Ji Half spoke, I tried to focus on the debris. It made no sense. Not quite the usual solid grain, nor the destructive, lightning-like plane. Bound in ways I could not understand, animated yet seemingly insentient, a multitude locked in one terrible purpose. How could I calm something so violent, how could I collect it when it was tied so deeply with her body?
“Does she understand?” I leaned in closer. The debris flickered at me, like a challenged snake, before plunging back inside her.
“A little.” He hesitated. “She is in pain, she is scared. As far as I can tell she was taken from her training ground by people she did not see. She was in a colony, she’s a foot soldier, but she can’t tell me what her rank is. I don’t think… I don’t think she really understands what it all means. All she remembers is waking up somewhere hard and cold, beneath bright lights and then the debris attacked her. It has been doing this for days.”
How many of those days were spent in
For a brief, horrible moment I wondered what this was doing to him. The Keeper was debris, and debris was killing this woman. Could he feel it? Did he know what her pion bindings tasted like? And yet, he could not stop it. By turning the debris into this monstrous thing, the puppet men had taken the Keeper’s control away.
Ancient guardian he might be. But with so much debris taken from him, tortured and animated into things like this, just what was he now?
How sane could the Keeper remain?
The Hon Ji woman’s screaming subsided. The Keeper fell to his knees, still clutching his head. Through the silence I heard footsteps clearly, more than one person but made in perfect unison, walking slowly, echoing oddly against the walls and the tanks and the loops around me. Then voices, carefully loud enough, it seemed to me, just so I could hear them.
“Only an abandoned factory,” one said. “This is not what we are looking for.”
“Not deep enough,” a second puppet man continued. “And not old enough, for a connection through the veil.”
“Not a waste of time though.” Their voices were all the same. It was impossible to tell them apart, or even how many there were.
“Not at all.”
The Keeper lifted his head. His face was in darkness, his eyes spilling as though cut. “She is a Half, Tanyana. Please. She is a Half.”
A Half? Which way were those footsteps going? Was Lad still waiting in the factory like I had told him? Waiting, and alone? But they didn’t know what he was, did they? If they did, he would have been taken by now. The puppet men had already proven how easily they could step into our lives.
Torn between the puppet men and the muted thrashing of a Hon Ji Half, I wavered. The woman rattled her words again.
“She is begging you, Tanyana.”
That returned my attention to the Keeper. “You can understand her?”
“Of course.” He turned his weeping eyes to what remained of his Half. “ Please, stop the hurt. Please, didn’t mean to. Please .”
“Stop.” My whole body wracked. I could hear Lad saying those words in his clipped half-language. And it hurt me to know this poor, writhing creature was the same.
I crouched, shuffled as slowly and non-threatening as I could manage. “Can you tell her I’m not going to hurt her?”
The Keeper said something. She gasped back noises that could have been words. He hesitated.
“What did she say?”
He folded forward, so he was on his hands and knees, and approached us. “I’m not sure. She thinks you are some kind of… Something like the Other.”
“I thought you understood her.”
“I do. I did. But I have spent so much time in Varsnia and I forget things. Sometimes. There are so many more doors here than anywhere else. So I have to stay here. You see. For so long.”
I nodded. “Then please tell her I am not the Other. Or whatever she thinks I am. Tell her I work with you, and I want to help.”
As the Keeper and the Hon Ji Half spoke, I tried to focus on the debris. It made no sense. Not quite the usual solid grain, nor the destructive, lightning-like plane. Bound in ways I could not understand, animated yet seemingly insentient, a multitude locked in one terrible purpose. How could I calm something so violent, how could I collect it when it was tied so deeply with her body?
“Does she understand?” I leaned in closer. The debris flickered at me, like a challenged snake, before plunging back inside her.
“A little.” He hesitated. “She is in pain, she is scared. As far as I can tell she was taken from her training ground by people she did not see. She was in a colony, she’s a foot soldier, but she can’t tell me what her rank is. I don’t think… I don’t think she really understands what it all means. All she remembers is waking up somewhere hard and cold, beneath bright lights and then the debris attacked her. It has been doing this for days.”
How many of those days were spent in
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