The Sky Is Falling | Page 6

But neither shall they delay its breaking. Dead you were,
mandrake son, and dead you shall be again. But since the fault is only theirs, may no ill
dreams follow you beyond Lethe!"

The knife started down, just as Nema managed to break free. She shrieked out a phrase of
keening command. The salamander suddenly broke from Dave's chest, glowing brighter
as it rose toward the face of the attacker. It was like a bit from the center of a star. The
man jumped back, beginning a frantic ritual. He was too late. The salamander hit him,
sank into him and shone through him. Then he slumped, steamed ... and was nothing but
dust falling toward the carpet. The salamander turned, heading toward the others. But it
was to Nema it went, rather than the two men. She was trying something desperately, but
fear was thick on her face, and her hands were unsure.
Abruptly, Sather Karf was in the doorway. His hand lifted, his fingers dancing. Words
hissed from his lips in a stream of sibilants too quick for Dave to catch. The salamander
paused and began to shrink doubtfully. Sather Karf turned, and again his hands writhed in
the air. One hand darted back and forward, as if he were throwing something. Again he
made the gesture. With each throw, one of the false orderlies dropped to the floor,
clutching at a neck where the skin showed marks of constriction as if a steel cord were
tightening. They died slowly, their eyes bulging and faces turning blue. Now the
salamander moved toward them, directed apparently by slight motions from Sather Karf.
In a few moments, there was no sign of them.
The old man sighed, his face slumping into lines of fatigue and age. He caught his breath.
He held out a hand to the salamander, petted it to a gentle glow and put it back over
Dave's chest.
"Good work, Nema," he said wearily. "You're too weak to control the salamander, but
this was done well in the emergency. I saw them in the pool, but I was almost too late.
The damned fanatics. Superstition in this day and age!"
He swung to face Dave, whose vocal cords were still taut with the shock of the sight of
the knife. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. From now on, every Ser and Sather will protect
you with the lower and the upper magic. The House changes tomorrow, if the sky permits,
and we shall shield you until then. We didn't bring you back from the dead, piecing your
scattered atoms together with your scattered revenant particle by particle, to have you
killed again. Somehow, we'll incarnate you fully! You have my word for that."
"Dead?" Dave had grown numbed to his past during the long illness, but that brought it
back afresh. "Then I was killed? I wasn't just frozen and brought here by some time
machine?"
Sather Karf stared at him blankly. "Time machine? Impossible. Of course not. After the
tractor killed you, and you were buried, what good would such fantasies be, even if they
existed? No, we simply reincarnated you by pooling our magic. Though it was a
hazardous and parlous thing, with the sky falling...."
He sighed and went out, while Dave went back to his delirium.

III

There was no delirium when he awoke in the morning. Instead, there was only a feeling
of buoyant health. In fact, Dave Hanson had never felt that good in his life--or his former
life. He reconsidered his belief that there was no delirium, wondering if the feeling were
not itself a form of hallucination. But it was too genuine. He knew without question that
he was well.
It shouldn't have been true. During the night, he'd partially awakened in agony to find
Nema chanting and gesturing desperately beside him, and he'd been sure he was on the
verge of his second death. He could remember one moment, just before midnight, when
she had stopped and seemed to give up hope. Then she'd braced herself and begun some
ritual as if she were afraid to try it. Beyond that, he had no memory of pain.
Nema came into the room now, touching his shoulder gently. She smiled and nodded at
him. "Good morning, Sagittarian. Get out of bed."
Expecting the worst, he swung his feet over the side and sat up. After so much time in
bed, even a well man should be rendered weak and shaky. But there was no dizziness, no
sign of weakness. He had made a most remarkable recovery, and Nema didn't even seem
surprised. He tentatively touched foot to floor and half stood, propping himself against
the high bed.
"Come on," Nema said impatiently. "You're all right now. We entered your sign during
the