(eng) Liz Williams by Nine Layers of Sky

Author:Nine Layers of Sky [Sky, Nine Layers of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Interlude

BYELOVODYE, N.E. 80

From the heights of the Edraya, Pergama Province stretched below in a blur of heat. The waves of dark green and azure forest were broken only by the little towns, basking in the sun. The smoke of the recent fires still hung above the peaks of the Balchus, and the dim land was marked with a long scorched scar. Shadia Anikova found herself reluctant to look at it, as though she could force it from memory.

“Look, you can see it,” Natasha said, destroying Anikova’s attempt at denial. “Must have been one hell of a bang.” She reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. Anikova gave a tight nod.

“I didn’t think we were going to make it. I still can’t believe it happened. One minute everything was fine and normal, and the next moment . . . There was a breach. No warning, nothing.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to blot out the recollection of that great rift of light opening out over the land. It was, however, the reason she was here today. Kitai had insisted that she take a break for a couple of days, and Anikova had been happy enough to agree, though not for reasons of personal trauma: a weekend at the family dacha had won her a brief respite from the Mechvor.

“I didn’t see anything in Novosty this morning, and you know I always read it from cover to cover.”

“Of course not. They don’t want information like that to get out.” They? When, she wondered with bemusement, had Central Command ceased to be us? “The Rad told the newspapers it was a gas explosion. Who knows, some people might even believe it.” It didn’t matter whether they believed it or not, Anikova thought, nor how convincing the government-doctored information really was. The important thing was that people wanted to believe that it had just been a gas leak, that their world was not starting to fall apart at the seams.

Only two generations, and already the truth of where they had come from was classified information, available only to the military and the upper echelons of government. And even among those in the know, it was receding into legend. After all, Anikova thought, I was born here, and so was my mother. My grandparents came here for a reason; they were pioneers.

No one wanted to go back to the mess that was Russia, the swift deterioration of revolutionary goals that should have remained pure, and they had not been given the option. Everyone knew it was a one-way trip. But although she had known no other place, she couldn’t help wondering about the Matraya-Derevnya, the Motherland: what kind of people lived there now, and whether they spoke the same language, followed the Party, worshiped the same God.

Natasha had parked the siydna on the landing spot immediately above the viewpoint. Now, she leaned over into space to catch the breeze.

“You could fly from up here,” Natasha said, hanging over the edge. “You could just jump, and soar.

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