CHAPTER SEVEN: REVELATIONS

After years of fighting, her children were suddenly close to each other and Kati felt relieved. They were constantly together now, usually in Mengjai's room where she often found them in animated discussion of something they'd called up on the learning machine.

She'd given them separate rooms when Yesui was ten, for the girl was becoming conscious of her own body and had expressed a desire for privacy. But it seemed she only slept there. The rest of the time, Yesui was with her brother and his learning machine.

Kati wished the children would get outside more; neither one had the strength she'd had at their age. They did not ride, or take lessons with the sword; long walks up and down the slopes of the city and around the terraced gardens seemed to be enough for them. Still, they did not seem frail, only slender, with skin white as porcelain.

For herself, there was little time for exercise. Once a month, she made time for a lesson with Master Yung, and each time her body ached for days afterwards. Yung reminded her that in a few years she would be forty; she must practice regularly to maintain her flexibility and endurance, as he still did at the age of seventy-five. And he whacked his Empress soundly and often in dongs at sword's length, to emphasize his advice to her.

She also rode, but only occasionally, and always with her father. It was the only time they had any real privacy together and they would use the better part of a day for it, riding up into the mountains on the trail that had first brought her to the Emperor's city.

Kati had commissioned a pagoda to be placed at the summits of Three Peaks to commemorate Yesui's first miracle there, but publicly in memory of her dearest friend. It was a restful place, patterned after Stork's Tower where her beloved Shan-lan had painted and written his love poems to her. Four columns of Tysk supported the roof, and there were balconies looking out on the city to the north and the great sea glistening in the south. A full-sized figure of Shan-lan dominated the center of the floor, a casting in durable polymer that simulated wood, with a commemorative plate in bronze proclaiming, "In Loving Memory of Shan-lan: Artist, Poet, Warrior, Crown Prince and Dearest Friend. Wang Mengnu-shan-shi-jie, Year 2322."

It was the only artifact or document of her entire reign that would ever bear her full, formal name.

She and Mengmoshu had recently made the climb to the pagoda, and he'd said something there that disturbed her greatly, a revelation that had led to Kati's first real connection with her son. The conversation had begun pleasantly enough. They stood out on a balcony to look at the city sparkling in afternoon light.

"I hear that the young people have discovered this place," said her father. "It's said that lovers meet here." He raised an eyebrow, and pretended to scowl at her.

Kati laughed. "How lovely that is, when beneath this structure is the meadow where a man first touched me in a tender way. But I hear that writers and artists also come here. Shan-lan would be quite pleased with that."

Mengmoshu put an arm around her. "Memories," he said softly.

"Yes." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Painful memories."

"But you are here, and there is peace, and Shanji is becoming a good place for all the people."

"Only because we work together. I could not begin to do it by myself, Father. Even the nobles have done far more than I expected."

"You pay them quite generously with land," he said, squeezing her.

"I pay them for good faith in the system. Their investments have been extreme: the reactors, mag-rails, cryogenics, hydrolysis plants, and now the new city in the northeast. They are rich in land and holdings, but the opulence of their private lives is not what it was under the Emperor. I hear that the wives complain about it."

Mengmoshu chuckled. "They live better than their Empress. You are most austere."

"My life is work, my husband and the children. What more can I want?" she said softly.

"More quiet times like this?" he asked, teasing her.

"That would be nice, though I must say that there's been much more peace in the palace since the truce was declared between Yesui and Mengjai. They seem to be inseparable, now, and yet Yesui would have little to do with her brother until I gave them separate rooms."

"Perhaps they were closer together than you thought."

"No, this is something new, and sudden. Now Yesui even praises her brother's intelligence, and calls him her teacher. Mengjai says nothing, and I cannot penetrate his mind. He has always closed himself off from me and it frightens me a little. Sometimes I fear I've lost him because of all the attention I've given to Yesui."

"Let's sit awhile," said Mengmoshu. He led her to a bench before the statue of Shan-lan, and they sat down to face it. "Surely you don't question Mengjai's intelligence, Kati."

"I did for awhile, Father, but not now. His progress with the learning machine is twice what mine was at his age. He is like his father."

"Then let me tell you what I think of my grandson," said Mengmoshu, taking her hand in his. "I think he's like both of you, and chooses not to let us see it. I think he hides a power that Yesui has recently become aware of, and that's why they're now so close to each other."

Kati looked at him in surprise. "What reason do you have for saying that? There is no Searcher with greater abilities than yours, Father. Have you been able to penetrate his mind?"

"Absolutely not," said Mengmoshu, shaking his head emphatically. "He remains as much a mystery to me as he does to you. I've never been able to read him, even when he was very small. Absolute control, that boy, yet his moods change with what I'm thinking: worry, peace, anger. I see it reflected in his behavior when we're together. It's as if he's constantly scanning me, yet I feel nothing."

"I've never felt his presence," said Kati sorrowfully, and Mengmoshu squeezed her hand.

"There is something you need to hear, Kati," said Mengmoshu softly. "It seems you have two exceptional children, not one."

"I love them both dearly, Father. You know that," she said defensively.

"I know, but there was an incident just weeks ago that tells me something powerful lurks behind that dark wall Mengjai puts up in front of us. It involved Yang-Xifeng, and I wasn't going to tell you about it, but now I think I should."

"Poor woman," said Kati. "I'm told she suffered a relapse, and is confined to bed again. I thought she was coming along nicely, and she's been so nice to Mengjai."

"So it seemed to me also, Kati, but she still blames you for the loss of her husband and son. There's a dark hatred inside her."

Kati sighed. "I'm aware of it. My hope is that she'll eventually let go of that, and be well again. There is good in her."

"Yes, you would say that," said her father. "I thought it so, when Mengjai was younger and Yang-Xifeng would cuddle him in her lap and cry with joy at his touch. Lately it has changed. Her thoughts have sinister overtones. She thinks of turning a son against his mother, and weeks ago she went too far with it."

"Did you say something?" asked Kati, suddenly concerned.

Mengmoshu paused, then said, "I didn't have to. Mengjai apparently heard her thoughts, and struck her dumb without moving a hand."

"What?" Kati recoiled from her father, putting a hand to her mouth.

Mengmoshu reached out to take her hand in his, and told her the entire story of the incident with Yang-Xifeng, then the return to Mengjai's room.

"Yesui knows about him, Kati, I'm certain of it. He is a Searcher; I can only guess at his level of development, but it's undoubtedly high."

"High enough to paralyze a human being," she said, deeply disturbed by what she'd just heard.

"Kati, promise me you will not admonish Mengjai for what he did. Yang-Xifeng was recovered physically within an hour, and she knows what happened to her. Mengjai has given her new reason to reconsider her hatred for you. What he did might even aid her eventual recovery."

"I will not criticize his action, Father, but I will tell him I know about the incident. I wish I'd known about it sooner."

"Sorry," said Mengmoshu, patting her hand. "After my talk with Mengjai, I thought he might reveal his abilities to you and give you a pleasant surprise. He is a complex boy."

"Then he is like his father," said Kati, feeling a strange mix of joy and concern. "Why would he keep his abilities hidden?"

"I don't know. Ask him. Acknowledge him. He knows you love him. For what other reason would he have done what he did to Yang-Xifeng?"

"I've neglected him," Kati said mournfully.

"Yes, you have, but it's easy enough to correct."

And she did. As soon as they'd returned to the palace, Kati went straight to Mengjai's room, and knocked softly on the door.

Come in, Mother, said Yesui, teasing.

They were both there at the learning machine, and Mengjai's eyes were wide with fear. Yesui only grinned at her. Kati pulled up a chair beside Mengjai, turning him by the shoulders so he was facing her. She pressed her lips together, and spoke without words.

Your grandfather has told me what happened with Yang-Xifeng. He says you are a Searcher, and have chosen to hide it from us. In doing so, you have closed yourself off from me and your father, and we cannot see into the heart of our son. I cannot share your joys, or sorrows, yet I love you with all my heart, and I believe you see that. I want to know you as you really are. I want to know my son! Please, Mengjai, talk to me. Come back to me! Tears suddenly flooded her eyes. She put her arms around him, and hugged him to her.

Her heart ached as she felt his arms go around her, one hand patting her back as if to comfort a little child. I did not think it was important, he said, but I was going to tell you someday, Mother. I thought that someday I might be like Yesui, but I'm not. 

"Oh, my darling!" cried Kati, and she squeezed him so hard he grunted. "Do you think I love Yesui more because of her abilities? I love both of you, and not for your powers. You are my children!" She reached out a hand, and Yesui moved closer to embrace both of them.

She felt him, then, for the first time, a feeling that warmed her all over as he opened his heart to her. That first time would be forever in her memory, that first time when she felt a connection to her son.

Kati looked at Yesui. Your sister's grin betrays her. She knew her brother was a Searcher, when the rest of the family did not. 

I only found out last year, said Yesui. He was very sneaky about it. 

Kati released them, and laughed. "Now that I know, we must tell it to your father."

"Oh—I—I've talked to him without words," said Mengjai.

"What? He knows, and didn't tell me?" Now Kati felt angry, and betrayed. "He knows his son is a Searcher?"

"Not exactly," said Mengjai quickly, and Yesui looked alarmed. "I think he feels I'm very sensitive to him, that he senses my thoughts directly rather than me giving them to him. He hasn't thought it was anything special."

"Well, we'll talk about that later. Your father is very proud of you, Mengjai. Do not hide yourself from him. We both love you.

I know, Mother. I promise. 

As Kati left the room, she caught one wisp of thought, and it was coming from Yesui.

I think Father is in trouble. 

Kati masked herself fiercely. Yes, he is. 

But when she confronted Huomeng that night, as they were preparing for bed, it was not as she expected.

"You haven't told me you speak to Mengjai without words, dear. Mengjai mentioned it to me just today," she said casually.

"Of course I do. Don't you?" he said, slipping into a robe for sleeping. "It's not like it is between you and me, but I hear him, and he hears me since the time he was little. I must admit that lately I've begun to wonder if there was something more. Mengjai is certainly sensitive to me, but my range is not what your father's is, and even Mengmoshu can only go out a hundred meters or so."

Kati masked herself hard, so he would not see that she had not attempted to communicate with Mengjai without words until that very day. "Mengjai has not seemed sensitive to me until now, and only because I confronted him."

Kati then told her husband about the conversation with Mengmoshu, including his opinions about his grandson, and described what had happened in Mengjai's room. Huomeng listened silently, and then they climbed into bed, her husband pulling her over to him, as usual, to cuddle her.

They lay quietly for a moment, then Kati said, "What is it that you wonder about our son?"

"As I said, it is my limited range. And lately, oh, within the last year or two, Mengjai has begun speaking to me when I'm on the mothership, or in transit to and from it. Very clear, and strong, always asking questions, some quite technical. He's learning very fast, Kati. Our son is brilliant. Yesui talked to me in space when she was very little, but now it's like she and Mengjai are there together. Maybe not. First one talks to me, then the other. I've never heard them speak to each other. If Mengjai is a Searcher, he has an unheard-of range, Kati. The mothership is out there some two thousand kilometers. I've begun to wonder if the children are somehow linked together."

Both of them fell asleep, still wondering about it.

 

"They're asleep," said Mengjai.

"Let's give them an hour before we go. Mother has her best connection to the gong-shi-jie right now, and that's when Abagai is most likely to be there. I'm glad they didn't fight. Mother was angry when she left us," whispered Yesui.

"Yes, but Father is getting dangerously close to the truth."

Yesui smiled. "In a way, he knew it before I did. I didn't know you were with me when I talked to Father in space."

"You admit you were fooled, then?"

"I didn't say that," said Yesui. "I always felt something there, but I couldn't identify it. It was when I started saying things I had no knowledge about that I began to wonder."

"You were still surprised when I told you. We should tell Mother and Father everything. It's not fair to give them a partial truth."

"Not just yet," said Yesui. "There are some things I want to do first."

"Like now."

"Yes. What you've taught me in theory is fine, but I have to get in there to really see what I'm dealing with."

"It's a simple model, Yesui. You need to double the mass, and Tengri-Nayon has the best composition for it. The size of Lan-Sui's rocky core is irrelevant; you're dealing with a big ball of hydrogen and helium. Put the mass anywhere, and convection plus planetary rotation should distribute it. The helium rain should begin right away, and that alone should increase the surface temperature."

"It sounds easy, brother, but you're not doing it. I have to do the navigating and the mass transfer, and I can't do it in steps. Every time I leave mass in the gong-shi-jie for even an instant, it turns into that flickering, violet light that bends real space. I have to bring mass directly to Lan-Sui's interior, and you are my target."

"If I can stay there while you flit in and out," said Mengjai.

"Only experimentation will work; there's no theory for this," said his sister.

Mengjai nodded in agreement. "This game is dangerous. Take only a small piece of a flare, better still a prominence, where the densities are smaller. Too much mass could be like hurling a comet into the upper atmosphere."

"Yes, Mengjai. We've gone over this many times."

"Then let's do it! They must be fast asleep by now."

Yesui put a finger to her lips. "Wait a little, and call up that image of Tengri-Nayon again."

Mengjai's fingers jabbed at the keyboard, and an image of Tengri-Nayon appeared, a single prominence forming an arch above its surface. Yesui outlined a portion of it with her finger. "How much mass?" she asked.

Mengjai did the calculation carefully on his machine. "About a thousandth of Meng-shi-jie's mass. We want to see an effect, don't we? Try a larger portion, maybe out to here." He made a new outline with his finger on the screen. "That should be like a very large comet, and you'll be deep inside, but not too deep, I hope. We don't want to wait months or years to see an effect."

"I'll be happy just to get into the interior," said Yesui, and then she closed her eyes. Mengjai did it also, and they both listened.

"I think we can go, now," said Yesui. "Let's get comfortable."

They lay side by side on Mengjai's bed. If anyone came in the room, it would appear they had fallen asleep together, and only their parents or grandfather would know otherwise.

You're excited, said Mengjai.

Apprehensive. This is the first thing we've really done together, brother. 

Lead on, said Mengjai. Their hands touched, and joined, fingers entwined as Yesui let out a slow exhalation, and they were on their way.

Yesui seemed in no hurry at first, spreading the threads of the spiderweb-like interface of the gong-shi-jie, and closing it behind them.

Do you realize you're twisting real space when you do that? If you did that on a large scale, whole galaxies could be smashed together. 

Really? Maybe I should give more attention to it. 

The swirl of purple light, with the colorful signatures of stars stretched far in every direction, and they drifted without manifestation on their secretive mission to the vortex of Tengri-Nayon, already in view, yet nearly two light-years distant in real space.

You're still not relaxed, Yesui. 

I'm thinking about what I have to do, brother. You only have to observe. 

Yes, but what happens to you, happens to me, and we'll both do better if we relax. 

Yes, yes. Yesui was still apprehensive, despite her solo time in the gong-shi-jie. There was a new presence in her consciousness, now, and it was different from her mother and Abagai being there. Do not talk so much, she said. Let me concentrate. 

I am a mute, said Mengjai, and then he was silent for her.

They hovered above the vortex of Tengri-Nayon and the tiny blue dimple there that was Lan-Sui, dropping slowly towards it, correcting for drift, then dropping again. Yesui did not aim for the exact center of the dimple, but away from it, and was pleased with their first entrance when they came out into real space with Lan-Sui filling half their field of view.

We're nearly as deep as the moons! Abagai did little better than this, and Yesugen was here to guide us. 

Yes, it's very good, but you went too fast. The threads went by me in a flash, and I wanted to see their patterns here. 

You didn't say anything! 

You told me to be quiet! 

All right, you can talk, now. I feel better. Where is the storm that locates the city? 

Real time passed as they searched for it. Over to the left, right at the limb. It's just now coming around, said Mengjai.

I think I can get closer. I'm going back. 

Slowly, both ways. I want to study the thread patterns. 

Yes, I heard! Don't nag me about it! 

The slowness of her transition in both directions was designed to taunt him, but it was just what he wanted. He could see the pattern of threads that was the fabric of space, outlining a parabolic-shaped dimple with little shelf-like irregularities at two places. There! he said. You can see the planet's edge, and that second irregularity must be the surface of the rocky core. You should navigate from here. Try it! 

I see it. But I want to try it my way first. I want to jump to the city, then to the interior. 

Why? That's the hard way. 

Because I want to! Then I'll try it your way. There's more than one way to do things, Mengjai! 

All right, all right, I'm just an observer, and I promise not to pout. 

Good, she said, and they were once again in Tengri-Nayon's vortex. This time, Yesui aimed closer to the center of the planetary dimple, and she also studied the thread pattern as they passed through it to real space.

Ohhh! she said, quite pleased with herself. Lan-Sui filled their view, and the blue storm was right in front of them, the planet having rotated a quarter of a revolution while they were in the gong-shi-jie. I'm getting very good at this. 

The hard way, said Mengjai. Now what are you doing? 

Thinking of the city. Trying—trying—to get that feeling—yes, it's there, but weaker than the last time. Do you feel it? Like a force, pulling at me. 

Mengjai concentrated. More like a presence. Hello? Is someone there? 

They listened. No response, but the feeling was still there, as before. So gentle, said Yesui. Yes, I think it's a person, but there's no awareness of us. I'm going to it, Mengjai, letting it take us to the city like it did before. 

That's why you wanted to do this, said Mengjai. He felt his sister letting go of her own will, to follow this gentle feeling washing over both of them—

And they were meters away from the clear shield surrounding Lan-Sui City, a great swirl of methane blue filling their field of view.

It worked again. We've targeted on someone here, but the feeling is the same, not stronger. It's not a Searcher's mind, said Mengjai.

But isn't it wonderful? said Yesui. Such a peaceful feeling, like dreaming. It comes from the city. 

Her thoughts were open to him. No, not now. We can look inside the city another time. Real time is flowing, Yesui, and we're in the upper atmosphere. Make your jump now. She was momentarily distracted, mesmerized by the warm feeling that came from inside the city. She hesitated.

Please, Yesui. We have a purpose in being here. Let's get on with it! 

Mmmm, she murmured, still mesmerized. Just a moment, Mengjai. You are in too much of a hurry. 

There was nothing he could do, and so he waited impatiently, resisting the sense of peace that flooded over him. His mind wandered, then, and suddenly the city was gone, and all around them was white, swirling mist with streamers of blue.

We're inside, now, Yesui said casually.

We can't be very deep. That blue stuff is methane ice. We must be in the storm below the city. Can you make a translation at this depth? 

His view flickered once, and the clouds around them were again white, but with swirls of yellow and red.

Is that better? she asked, and he felt her confidence growing huge.

Yes, but do you know where we are? 

It doesn't matter, as long as we're not below the city. I do my job, now you do yours. Concentrate, and remain here while I go back to the gong-shi-jie for mass transfer. Tell me when you're ready, brother. 

Mengjai looked for a swirl of color, a misty form, anything to concentrate on. He found a light blue cloud with the shape of an amoeba, focusing on it as the cloud began to change shape. Go! he said.

The cloud disappeared.

The vortex of Tengri-Nayon swirled below him.

MENGJAI! screamed Yesui.

I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't ready. 

Now we have to do it all over again! 

So use the thread patterns. It's easier, and now we've done it your way. You promised. 

Oh, YOU! All right! We'll use the threads, but they won't tell me where the city is. 

Now they will. The city is in daylight, if we hurry. Go to the nightside of the pattern. Hurry, Yesui! 

They re-entered, crawling along threads like a spider in its web, the parabolic net of green threads glowing in total blackness. Just below the surface—right here! said Mengjai. Remember it! he shouted, as they made the transition.

Swirling clouds, with even more red and yellow than before. The point is fixed in my mind, but it moves in real space. I want you here, Mengjai. Don't you make me do this again! 

I'll do my best. I hope we're not completely glued together. 

It was something they hadn't considered before, and what he said seemed to calm his sister's anger.

If you think that, it will be true, she said. I only need an instant in real time. Now CONCENTRATE! 

It was difficult, for everything was moving around them, and there were no permanent features to focus on. He thought of himself as a dust mote held in place by the eddies around him, spinning him, caressing him. I am here, he thought. Hold me here. His field of view blurred, as if he'd been suddenly absorbed by what was there, holding him in a kind of dreamworld.

He didn't even feel Yesui's departure.

And then his dreamworld exploded with a bright, horrible flash, and Yesui was screaming at him, Come with me! 

They were back in the gong-shi-jie, and near the center of Tengri-Nayon's vortex a new mist of violet light flickered there before being sucked back into the depths.

Are you all right? 

Yes, just a bit disoriented. It happened so fast. 

I'm afraid I panicked. Nothing could have hurt us in there, but I still panicked. I hope I haven't done something horrible, Mengjai. Oh, I'm afraid to look again. 

Don't bother. It'll be at least days, maybe weeks before something shows up. The mass was small, wasn't it? 

About what you calculated. 

Then don't worry about it. You did it, Yesui! It'll be much easier, next time. 

If there is a next time, said Yesui, still shaken. Let's go back, right now. I've never felt so exhausted. 

I'm tired, myself, from the little I did, he said, and they hurried back to the single, purple vortex that was the entrance to both of them, re-entering it in a flash.

Mengjai's hand was numb from Yesui's squeezing of it, and there was no time for talk as they both opened their eyes, both sensing the same thing.

"Mother is awake," whispered Yesui. She leapt from the bed, and hurried out of his room, her mind totally masked from anyone else, though he could still sense her panic.

Mengjai turned out the lights, and quickly burrowed beneath the covers with his clothes still on. He breathed deeply, and held a vision of the great mothership in his mind. He let it grow, and brighten as the moments dragged by.

He heard a click as the door opened, and Mother was there, probing him. He showed her his vision.

There was a dark suspicion in her mind. A nice dream—perhaps. But something did rouse me, dear. I hope you and Yesui aren't playing some new kind of game with me. 

The door closed, and she was gone, opening the door to Yesui's room, and in his sister's mind there were only the swirling colors of the gong-shi-jie.

Nokai Wizera moaned in his sleep, and turned over on his side, pressing a cheek deep into his pillow. Perhaps it was a dream, but there was no vision of it, only a feeling, a wonderful feeling that made him want to laugh. It stayed with him, growing in strength until he was nearly awake, and then suddenly it was gone and he was left with a terrible sense of loss, of aloneness that brought an ache to his heart. Please come back, he thought. Whoever you are, come back to me. 

He put an arm around his pillow, and cuddled it to his face.