Pathways - Jeri Taylor [188]
Gently, slowly, she squeezed herself through the opening. The heat from the barrier threatened to singe her skin, and the acrid smell nauseated her, but little by little, millimeter by millimeter, she was passing through it.
And then she was on the other side! She felt a tremor of thrill, and instinct told her that her quest was nearly at an end. She moved quickly through the remaining part of the tunnel, where at one point she saw light coming through a few cracks in the wall. It was an opening, she knew, and in moments she was there, pushing at rock and earth that had piled up in front of it. In a few moments she had cleared a space large enough to crawl through . . .
. . . and she emerged into the sunlight.
Unimaginable brightness assaulted her, pierced her eyes painfully. Involuntarily she covered them, then opened them just a crack because she had to see what it looked like on the surface.
Ahead of her stretched a vast plain, a desert of red-hued dirt, studded in the distance with rock outcroppings. Gradually her eyes adjusted to the sunlight and she opened them further, turning in place to absorb the immensity of this astonishing place. Never in her life had she seen such a vista, such a distance. Above her, not the rock and stone of the underground cave, but a broad expanse of blue which she knew to be “sky,” and which held, glowing too brightly for her to look at directly, the blazing orb which provided the golden light of this planet—the sun. There was another wondrous sight as well: huge, brilliant flashes that arced through the sky toward a distant mountaintop. These, she knew, were the energy transports from the Caretaker, which she had known in the nearly twelve months of her life as muffled thumps, constant and reassuring.
Her eye caught the opening through which she had emerged, the stones shoved aside, and an instinct so strong it was almost like a voice in her mind told her to conceal that opening. She moved the stones back in place and dusted her footprints away. She knew exactly where the spot was, but no one else could tell. Somehow, she knew that was important. Then she looked around again at the magnificence of open space that stretched before her.
Even though it was hot, very hot, Kes felt a slight chill ripple through her. She had done it: she had overcome fear and ignorance and done what everyone else she knew was afraid to do—left the security of their underground womb and flung herself into the unknown.
But now what? If there was truly no one left on this planet, what was she to do for food? And water? She had only a little left of the supply she’d brought along, and clearly the climate of the planet hadn’t recovered from the warming of long ago. Everywhere she looked she saw only sere, scrub-by vegetation, and the endless expanse of dry red dirt.
And if she were to return to her underground city and tell everyone what she’d seen, what would be the reaction? No one would want to leave their cool and beautiful home, where there was abundant water and energy, and relocate to this arid desert.
So what, in the long run, had she accomplished?
I saw the sun, she reminded herself. That was reason enough to have made this journey, something that could never be taken from her. So perhaps the thing to do was go home, share this remarkable experience with her mother, and her friends, and work to make the Ocampan people less complacent, more independent, more like they had been before the Caretaker started protecting them.
She realized she had moved quite a ways from the opening in a small rocky outcropping through which she had emerged, and in fact wasn’t quite sure where it was. She had started back toward where she thought it was when she heard the pounding.
This was different from the sound of the energy flashes. It was low and muted, a vibration that she seemed to feel, rather than hear. Instinctively she lay on the ground