She felt the shock of lift-off and blacked out.
A trickle of moisture down her chin. Lantee bent over her, forcing the spout of a revi-tube into her mouth. As that instant energy flowed into her, Ziantha straightened within the webbing.
“Where — ?”
“Where are we going? To X One.”
“And Ogan?”
“Can wait for the Patrol.”
“He will talk.” She was sure of that. Perhaps Lantee had given her a breathing space, but he could not stand against the Patrol. Sooner or later they would be after her.
She had forgotten her mind-barrier was down; now she saw him shake his head.
“If they come—that is not going to do them any good. The Zacathans do not often take a hand in human affairs, but when they do, it is to some purpose.”
“Why would they protect me?”
“Because, Ziantha-Vintra-D’Eyree, you are about the most important find, as far as they are concerned, of this age. You opened a new doorway, and they are going to bend every effort to keep it open. Do you suppose they would let your gift be erased?”
He seemed so sure; he believed in what he said. She wished she could, too.
Again he knew her thoughts.
“Just try to—try to believe one impossible thing a day, and you will find it the truth. What you did down there”—Lantee waved to the visa-screen, where the world of Singakok was fast growing smaller—“was impossible, was it not? You died twice, I died once, but can you deny we are alive? Knowing that, why can you not think that the future is brighter than your fear?”
“I guess because it never has been,” Ziantha answered slowly. But he was right. Death was said to be the end, but twice she had passed that end. So—she drew a deep breath. Maybe this was all illusion, like the one they had left Ogan trapped in. If so—let it hold.
Lantee was smiling, and in her arms Harath gave a soft click of beak.
“You will see—it shall!” Somehow both their thoughts came at once with bright promise to warm her mind, just as the Eyes waited warmly in her hand. Waiting for the next illusion—the next adventure?