Oberheim (Voices) | Page 3

corner of a smile. "Another ebony wanderer? And in the middle of the night. I was just getting ready to leave."
"I guess so." Now that she was no longer moving, the cold pierced her clothes and she shivered once more.
"Well, I guess we'd better get you out of it. Have you strength to walk?"
"Yes..... How do I know I can trust you?"
"You have no choice." He left the light as it was.
He led the way, and after hesitating she walked with him for several miles without speaking, climbing ever higher into the dark, bony hills. They rested then briefly, her breath coming hard from the steep grades they had already passed. But now, leaning dizzy and pallid against a stone, she felt a strange reluctance to speak of her condition. A harsh stubbornness had been growing inside her as they went, tightening ever harder as fatigue become unbearable. The feeling frightened her, but she kept it to herself. Instead she tried to satisfy another doubt.
"Who are you?"
"I am that which I am," he said. And he gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Nothing to do with you," he said. "Just making a little joke to myself." She looked down at the ground beneath her feet. "But now you must be very tired. No need to push yourself all at once. Sit down on the ground and we'll rest."
She slid to the cold earth with her back against rough stone. It was quiet, too quiet, and through the darkness the memories..... She wept quietly.
"So softness wins out after all," he said flatly. She glared at him angrily, but he was not looking at her. "Don't worry about it. Sometimes it wins in me too." He must think he's some kind of stern father, she thought. A stern, unfeeling bastard of a father.
They walked till the hills became sheer, then rested again, this time looking up at a dark face frowning down on them. "How much further?" she asked heavily.
"Not far."
"Truthfully?"
"Yes. Can you walk a little farther?"
"Yes. Just give me a minute to rest." He did, exactly. They set out again, skirting the rockface till they came to a gap between cliffs. They followed it up and in, moving through a narrow strip with high walls on either side. Finally it died into a meeting of stone.
"Where now?" she asked between gasps.
"Nowhere. We're here."
"But I don't see anything." A cold fear ran through her.
"Wouldn't be much of a hiding place if you could." He moved past her and flicked his finger between a crack in the rock. Almost at once a soft white light began to filter through a cave entrance not ten feet above them, a short distance to the right. Something like a smoky film was dissolving before it. He boosted her up to a narrow ledge that ran in front of it, and after a short, stepping climb she was there. He came behind her, gestured with his hand.
"Go on. I promise I won't bite you." Again, just a corner of a smile.
She entered the cave, found it warm and well lit. A thick, transparent tube along one wall provided the heat. Light came down from three very ordinary fixtures, hung from the ceiling some twelve feet above. This main chamber, neither large nor small, ran back into a narrow arch, the shadows of which did not seem to go much farther. There was a table, long and low, a wooden bench and two chairs. Several large packs, three strange instrument panels stood against the far wall. Something dark and small was huddled among them. To her surprise she saw that it was a child: a small boy, dressed in blue.
"Hello," she said. "What's your name?" He gave no answer, but studied her with dark, shining eyes.
"I'm afraid you won't get much out of that one. He's still a bit shook up." The man put down his pack, leaned his weapon against the edge of the table. "Found him away north this afternoon. His mother told him just to run and keep running. He did..... You want coffee?"
"Yes, please." He returned from the back a moment later with a steaming cup, and a plate of some synthesized food. "Thank you." He pulled a chair and sat down across from her, watching her eat.
"So what's YOUR name?" he said at length, and the kind older man was submerged.
"Elonna Dorsett."
"You're not all black, are you, Elonna?"
"No. My grandmother was white. Is that important?"
"Not necessarily." A pause. "So how many did you lose?"
She glared at him, then softened. "Only one. My husband."
He got up and paced, then stood squarely before her.
"So tell me this, Elonna Dorsett. What do you plan to do about it?" She hesitated.
"Anything I can." She had a strange sensation as she said the words: a sand castle