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going to do. She bent her body forward, pushed down on the pedals as hard as she could.
Slowly, too slowly it seemed, the city came closer.
Xaai woke up and, just for a moment, she thought she was still a man. The creaking of the gondola around her, the cold night air, the sound of sails
filling in the wind everything seemed familiar, perfect.
Then she felt the pain, and she remembered.
Tuy. Killing Tuy.
Metamorphosis.
Capture.
Imprisonment.
Torture.
She raised a wing, cried out at the livid pain. Now, she couldn t 121
fly.
Blurry-eyed, Xaai tried to establish where she was. She could see the deck of the gondola, dimly lit by lamps. She could see other naieen, bodies,
dark stains of blood. She crawled forward, trying to ignore the pain. But all she saw were dead eyes, limp wings, broken limbs. Is this my fault? she
wondered. Did this happen because of what I told Iikeelu?
Xaai knew how urgent Iikeelu had said it was for her to remember. Perhaps this had happened because she hadn t remembered quickly enough.
I m sorry, she said aloud. I did try.
I tried as hard as I could.
The dead eyes stared at her. A piece of torn skin flapped in the slow wind.
Xaai crawled a little further into the midst of the carnage, her muscles burning with every movement. She could see the crenellated wall of the
gondola now, and above it the shining beehive windows of a Temple. Faint lights from the Sky gleamed beyond. She struggled towards the wall,
pushing against bodies rigidified in broken, tortured positions.
I m sorry, , she whispered. I m sorry I m sorry I m sorry.
There was a clear space beside the wall, where some sort of gun was mounted. By using the cold metal of the gun barrel, Xaai was able to pull
herself upright. Her back and wings a solid mass of agony, she scrabbled with wings and arms at the thick wooden blocks of the low wall, and
managed to heave herself up on to the top of it.
She expected to fall, but she didn t: the wall was several feet thick, and she could balance on it. She looked, not across at the dim lights of the Sky,
but down, down at the infinite blackness of the ground.
No. Not quite black. She could see a faint light there, perhaps a farm, perhaps some low-sailing flyboat crewed by men. She imagined that boat
and its crew. She imagined the dry night wind, the smell of soil, the faint lowing of herdbeasts from below. That had been flying. She had been flying
all along, when she had been Xa, when she had been a man looking with envy at the Sky. She had always been flying, and had never known it.
I can t fly any more, she thought. But I will taste the air again.
One more time before I die.
Crying with the pain, Xaai hauled herself the last few feet and tumbled over the edge of the gondola, gathering speed through the cold air, helplessly
falling towards the Land where she had once been happy.
122
Epreto saw the crewman die.
The light came from nowhere, a blue-white glow, as if lightning had struck on the boiler plate. The crewman dropped back, cried out, convulsed.
Then the light faded. Epreto gripped the rail, stared, ready to jump down and take hold of one .of the machine guns. But then he thought better of it.
Whatever had killed the man was of the sun, and if it was targeting his craft then the naieen must be controlling it in some way.
Epreto thought for a moment, then roared, Loose the balloon!
lf the naieen had truly taken over the sun, this manoeuvre would do no good. But he didn t think that they could have done that: this was probably an
isolated weapon, something stored in the Temples for years, its uses known but its principles never understood.
The four remaining crewmen were running to the ropes. Epreto watched as they loosed the knots, admiring their discipline. Then the, light struck
again, the glow surrounding two men at once. The others staggered back from the dead bodies in terror. Somewhere in the back of Epreto s mind
he was aware that he too was supposed to be afraid.
But all he could think was: above. They ve got to be above me.
He looked up. As the killing light reached its brightest, Epreto saw the faint image of a naieen, high above.
Out of range of guns.
Epreto jumped down from the platform, landing on the narrow rail that was the balloon anchor ring before the dying men had stopped their
convulsions. The other two men backed away, their faces blank with terror,
Help me loose the ropes, Epreto yelled at them. He was already struggling with the knots Before they fire at us again! Quickly!
The men came forward, but Epreto could see that they were barely able to control the movements of their bodies. He moved around the ring, taking
the last two knots with one hand each, pulling at the loosing points.
Now! Hold on to the ropes!
One of the men understood, gripped a rope. The other seemed confused, hesitated, then desperately jumped up as his fellow, Epreto and the
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