“I am Melein s’lntel Zain-Abrin, she’pan of the People that went out from Kutath.”
The lights pulsed, in increasing unison. “I am An-ehon. I am at the orders of the she’pan of the People. Zohain and Tho’e’i-shai and Le’a’haen are speaking through me. I perceive others. I perceive one of the not-People.”
“They are here with my permission.”
The lights pulsed, all in unison now. “May An-ehon ask permission to ask?” the machine began, the ritual courtesy of one who would question a she’pan; and the source of it sent cold over Niun’s skin, “Ask.”
“What is this person of the not-People? Shall we accept it, she’pan?”
“Accept him. He is Duncan-without-a-Mother. He comes from the Dark. This, of the People, is Niun s’lntel Zain-Abrin, kel’anth of my Kel; this other is a shadow-who-sits-at-our-door.”
“Other shadows have entered the city with you.”
“The dusei are likewise shadows in our house.”
“There was a ship which we permitted to land.”
“It brought us.”
“There is a signal which it gives, not in the language of the People.”
“An-ehon, let it continue.”
“She’pan,” it responded.
“There are none of the People in your limits?”
“No.”
“Do any remain, An-ehon?”
“Rephrase.”
“Do any others of the People survive, An-ehon?”
“Yes, she’pan. Many live.”
The answer struck; it went uncomprehended for several heartbeats, for Niun had waited for no. Yes. Yes, many, many, MANY!
“She’pan,” Niun exclaimed, and tears stung his eyes. He stood still, nonetheless, and breathed deeply to drive the weakness from him, felt Duncan’s hand on his shoulder, offering whatever moved the human, and after a moment he was aware of that, too. Gladness, he thought; Duncan was glad for them. He was touched by this, and at the same time annoyed by the human contact.
Human.
Before he had heard An-ehon speak, he had had no resentment for Duncan’s humanity; before he had known that there were others, he had not felt the difference in them so keenly.
Shame touched him, that he should go before others of the People, drawing this with them self-interested shame and dishonorable, and hurtful. Perhaps Duncan even sensed it. Niun lifted his arm, set it likewise on Duncan’s shoulder, pressed with his fingers.
“Sov-kela,” he said in a low voice.
The human did not speak. Perhaps he likewise found nothing to say.
“An-ehon,” Melein addressed the machine, “where are they now?”
A graphic flashed to a central screen: dots flashed.
Ten, twenty sites. The globe shaped, turned in the viewer, and there were others.
“There were no power readings for those sites,” Duncan murmured. Niun tightened his hand, warning him to silence.
Melein turned to them, hands open in dismissal. “Go. Wait below.”
Perhaps it was because of Duncan; more likely it was that here began sen-matters that the Kel had no business to overhear.
The People survived.
Melein would guide them: the thought came suddenly that he would have need of all the skill that his masters had taught him that first in finding the People, it would be necessary to kill: and this was a bitterness more than such killing ever had been.
“Come,” he said to Duncan. He bent to take the pan’en’ into his own arms, trusting their safety now to the city, that obeyed Melein.
“No,” Melein said. “Leave it.”
He did so, brought Duncan out and down again, where they had left their other belongings; and there they prepared to wait.
Night came on them. From sen-tower there was no stir; Niun sat and fretted at Melein’s long silence, and Duncan did not venture conversation with him. Once, restless, he left the human to watch and climbed up to kel-hall: there was only emptiness there, vaster by far than the earth-walled kel-hall he had known. There were pictures, maps, painted there, age-faded, showing a world that had ceased to be, and the sight depressed him.
He left the place, anxious for Duncan, alone in main hall, and started down the winding ramp. A cnittering, mechanical thing darted behind him… he whirled and caught at his pistol, but it was only an automaton, a cleaner such as regul had employed. It answered what kept the place clean, or what did repairs to keep the ancient machinery running.