The Summer Queen by Joan D. Vinge Page B

asshole!” He
straightened with an effort, holding Kedalion under one arm like a stubborn
child.
    Cursing under his breath, Kedalion let himself be carried ignominiously
but rapidly through the crush of bodies, through a maze of dark tunnels, and
finally out into the reeking back-alley gloom. The others stood waiting, fading
against the darkness. Reede dropped him on his feet.
    “Go, quickly,” Shalfaz said, waving them on. “I must get
back.”
    “But—” Kedalion gasped, with what breath he still had in
him. “Will you be safe?”
    She shrugged, her body going soft with resignation. “I am only
a woman. I am not held responsible. If I let them—”
    “No!” Ananke said. “Don’t! Come with us.” He pulled at her
arm almost desperately.
    “The earring,” Reede said. “The stones are genuine. Buy them
off. You know the customs.” She nodded, and he shoved Ananke out into the
street. “Get moving.” He jerked Kedalion off his feet again.
    “Damn it, put me down!” Kedalion swore as Reede began to
run. “i can—”
    “No, you can’t.”
    “Goddammit, I’m not—”
    “Yes, you are. In big trouble. Complain about your injured
dignity later,” Reede hissed, looking back over his shoulder as he heard
shouting. Light burst on them from up ahead, lancing through the mudbrick
alleyway between building walls; they collided with Ananke as the boy skidded
to a stop. “We’re trapped!” Ananke cried, his voice going high like a girl’s.
    Reede glanced up, at something beyond sight, and grunted, “They’re
high tracking us.” He turned and forced them into the narrow tunnel between two
buildings, out into a small open plaza; all Kedalion could see was mudbrick and
shadows, all he could hear was the sound of angry voices shouting at them to
stop. He shut his eyes. Any minute Reede would go down to someone’s weapon, and
this grotesque ignominy would reach its inevitable conclusion—
    They slammed through the high double doors in a mountain of
building facade, into the vast cavern of its interior, the befuddling darkness
barely defined by the glow of countless candles. Up ahead of them a wall of hologramic
illumination burst across Kedalion’s vision—a thousand views of paradise
painted in light, rising to an ecstatic apex, a finger pointing toward heaven
like the pyramidal structure of which it formed one wall.
    “We’re in a temple!” he gasped. “Can we ask for sanctuary?”
    “From the Church Police? Who do you think they work for?”
Reede muttered He dropped Kedalion onto his feet again and hesitated, searching
the candlelit darkness. There were still a few worshipers prostrating
themselves before the high altar and the radiant images of light. He turned
back as the heavy doors burst open behind them. “Lose yourselves,” he said. “I’ll
draw them off .... Hey! Police!” he shouted, a warning or an invitation,
Kedalion wasn’t sure.
    “Reede—” Kedalion began, but Reede was already bounding
away, silhouetting himself against the blinding light. “Gods! Come on.” He
nudged Ananke forward through the forest of candelabra, hoping that they could
fade into the random motion of bodies as people picked themselves up from their
prayers and scurried toward the exits. He pulled on the boy’s arm, forcing him
into the crowd. Ananke followed like someone in a trance; Kedalion felt the boy’s
body tremble.
    Kedalion glanced back as people in the scattering crowd
cried out, to see Reede scramble up onto the gold-crusted altar, climbing
higher among its rococo pinnacles in an act of unthinkable desecration. Ananke
gasped in horror, and Kedalion swore in empathy and disgust as the
black-uniformed figures of the police closed in on Reede.
    And then Reede leaped—throwing himself off of the altar into
the embrace of the light, into the wall of heaven.
    Kedalion heard a splintering crash and stopped dead, gaping
in disbelief. The image hadn’t been a hologram at all—it had been a wall