Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [126]
The muscular young man did not flinch, but caught her easily, as if they had practiced the routine a hundred times. “That was either brave or stupid, Celli,” he said as he used her momentum to swing her up onto a branch beside him.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me fall.” She hugged him close as they stood together, carefully balanced and catching their breath.
Some treedance moves were free-form, acrobatics and ballet combined with vigorous gymnastics. The result was a jazz of movement, an impromptu physical symphony. Connected by telink, the trees themselves could live vicariously through the green priest dancers; the motion liberated them from the deep roots that anchored them to the planet.
Solimar laughed with sheer ecstasy as he bounced from branch to branch. Celli saw with astonishment that he kept his eyes closed and let the trees guide him through telink. She thought it must have been a long time since the forest felt such exuberance. The other exhausted green priests, most of whom were resting now, probably felt the same rush as they dreamed in telink with the worldforest.
Unable to share in his symbiotic connection, Celli let herself be content with watching her friend’s happiness. An independent girl, she herself had never felt the call to become an acolyte, though her brother Beneto and uncle Yarrod were both green priests. That would not stop her from finding solace through her own joyous movements even among the blackened and broken worldforest.
As they danced together, she felt they were both drawing energy from the wounded trees…and giving it back as well. In her mind, she sensed the trees sharing a secret warm smile with the exuberant dancers. The forest was waking up and remembering—thanks to them.
Finally, when they’d exhausted their bodies, she and Solimar sat together on a wide branch, panting and sweating. Celli laughed and leaned against him in a comfortable, intimate moment. “Weren’t we supposed to be relaxing?”
Solimar’s eyes and expression held a potent vitality that she hadn’t seen since the day he’d rescued her from the burning fungus reef. “It may surprise you, Celli, but I feel more rested now than I have in a long, long time.” His fingers touched the hard bark, and he drifted into telink. He was smiling when he came back out. “And the trees would like very much for us to do this again.”
Chapter 63—KING PETER
Estarra wasn’t entirely certain they could trust OX, though the Teacher compy had been very useful in gathering reliable information. “He’s a Hansa machine, programmed to follow a certain set of orders.”
Her dark eyes shone in the bright light from the royal suite’s balcony, and Peter felt a giddy rush just looking at his beautiful Queen. In spite of all his crises and ordeals, the machinations and responsibilities, Peter knew he was loved and safe when he was with her.
She glanced uncomfortably at OX, who stood attentive, as if participating in the discussion. He reported the results of his quiet investigations daily to the King. “How do we know he’s helping us instead of the Chairman?”
Peter turned to the compy. “Because he also has moral programming. OX was designed centuries ago, before the Hansa existed in anything like its present form. He was put aboard a generation ship and sent away, never expecting to come back. His entire reason for existence was to teach the descendants of humanity and instill in them the beliefs, traditions, and morals we hold dear as a civilization. That moral programming is still active, isn’t it, OX?”
The little compy looked like a child-sized loyal soldier. “My programming gives me latitude for making assessments and choices. Though I am ostensibly retained by the Terran Hanseatic League, my core programming instructs me to serve the interests of the human race as a whole.” His optical sensors brightened, but his voice remained moderate and sincere. “Since I myself discovered the explosive device hidden aboard your royal yacht, I am aware of the Chairman