"Ann Maxwell - Timeshadow Rider" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

time/now. The fountain had been both symbol and shrine of Kiriy and Za’arain. Here the present joined
invisibly with the past, the rain of a million million yesterdays slaking the thirst of today while today’s rains
ran down out of time/now to be reborn in a million million tomorrows as silver drops dancing beneath
Za’arain skies.
 Sharia tore off her hooded robe, freeing her body and her hair in the same savage motion. She threw
the bloody garment aside. Wearing only the black necklace Kane had given her, she stood beneath the
chill waters of condensed time. Today’s blood was washed away, pink water sliding through the cracks
in the ancient, radiant pavement, water draining into the future. The grime of the recent past slid from her
body. There were no injuries beneath to mar her pale, luminous skin. She had healed herself for this, to
stand naked beneath the thundering water of the then and to consecrate herself to death in the everlasting
now.
“There! Near the fountain!”
The voice had once belonged to Kiri Dirneen, the woman who years ago had taught Sharia to
understand the elegant ideographs of Za’arain. The Dirneen of Sharia’s childhood was gone, though; the
Dirneen of today was half wild, wholly savage, gripped by fear and a greed for power that would not be
exorcised short of death.
Sharia stepped out of the veiling mists. Her hip-length hair shimmered and lifted with each movement
of her head, shedding the water from time/now and the now with the case that only a of living
timeshadows knew. Translucent, silver, as fluid as the water it so closely resembled, Sharia’s unbound
hair floated on currents that only she could sense. Living currents rippling through time. Tendrils of hair
fanned out, seeking other currents, other timeshadows, other lives ... other deaths.
She laughed and held out her arms to the shifting, amorphous mob of people who had tracked her
down.
“Come to me,” crooned Sharia. “Touch me. Touch death.”
Her Kiri cousins hesitated, but only for an instant. With a savage growl they began running toward
the only living five on Za’arain.

Two
The Wolfin lightship groaned like the quasi-living being it was. Kane felt the cocoon around him shift,
becoming a fluid restraint that protected his body from the backlash of forces seething around the ship.
The za’replacement symbol had glowed orange in the homing crystal, warning that the upcoming
transition would not be an easy one. He had ordered Jode to take it anyway, despite the fact that there
were lavender za’replacements scattered within six ship-hours of the orange site.
The ship closed with the difficult za’replacement point. Conflicting forces sleeted through Kane,
tearing at him, making every bit of his large body ache. For an instant Kane wanted to groan with the
Wolfin ship. Then the ship shuddered and reappeared in time/now, all forces balanced again. Quietly the
lightship sped away on its predetermined course.
The cocoon peeled from Kane and vanished into the couch, freeing him. He stood and stretched, his
knuckles brushing against the resilient, textured ceiling. Wolfins were among the biggest of the Fourth
Evolution peoples and built their ships accordingly. Even so, Kane found himself a bit cramped. He was
careful not to complain, though, any more than he complained about the crude, timeshadow-tangling
eccentricities that the Wolfins built into their sentient machines. The Wolfins were proud of their
technological accomplishments. A man who wanted to pass as the grandson of Wolfin colonists would be
the last person to complain about the Wolfins’ sometimes bizarre technology.
And for Kane to criticize the most sensitive, sophisticated machines that the Joining had to offer
would be to raise the question of where he had seen better ones. There was only one possible answer:
Za’arain. Kane did not want to connect himself with that forbidden planet. In the Joining, Za’arains were
considered to be deadly, inhuman combinations of gods and devils. No one in the Joining even knew the
galactic coordinates of Za’arain. Or if they did, they did not live after putting those coordinates to use.
Za’arain’s isolation was enforced by the most potent weapon in the known galaxy—the Eyes of Za’ar.