Memory Seed Read Online Free Page A

for her life. But then, from under the bed, Graaff-lin pulled out a row of leather pouches on two belts. Her kit. Her rescuer must have somehow reclaimed it from Oquayan and restored it intact to its rightful owner. Such deeds were unusual. Zinina fumbled inside one of the pouches to find the precious seed, safe, cloaked in fluff and dust. Quickly she zipped the pouch shut.
    ‘ls all well?’ Graaff-lin asked.
    ‘Valuables,’ Zinina said, shrugging, pushing the kit back under the bed. She did not want the aamlon rummaging through her belongings.
    ‘You really have no home?’
    Zinina was too exhausted to lie. ‘I deserted from the Citadel Guard.’
    Graaff-lin had a way of nodding in a soothing manner and, noticing this, Zinina wondered if she had been manipulated into saying too much. Those limpid eyes... Graaff-lin seemed sad, but behind her eyes lay intelligence. ‘What happened?’ Graaff-lin asked.
    ‘I escaped during the dusk shift at the Citadel. We were patrolling the perimeter. I ran north. A detachment followed me. I hid in a house, but it started to collapse. Some poison ferns went for me and I had to escape. That was when somebody shoved me down the hole.’
    ‘Well, you can stay here awhile. I am devoted to the Dodspaat and live alone. Later… we shall see.’
    Sincerely grateful, Zinina grinned and replied, ‘Thanks. Thanniy, I should say! You possibly saved my life.’
    Graaff-lin stood up. ‘Somebody did. Now, if you are steady on your feet I’ll show you around the house.’
    It was not much of a house – four large rooms on one floor. There was an air of haphazard carelessness about the place, excepting the bedroom. One work room was filled with benches, tools and test instruments, and everywhere, even in the kitchen and study, pyuter junk and softly glowing rigs lay. Of course, aamlon were famed for their pyuter skills. Zinina, while not enamoured of the place, saw that life here would at least be tolerable.
    Midnight passed and Graaff-lin retired to her bed, leaving Zinina to the study couch. But Zinina had one task to perform before sleep. From her kit she took the seed.
    On the sill outside the west-facing window stood ten pots, some growing herbs, others empty. Zinina opened the window, took one of the empty pots, shook out the mud and grit, then made for the kitchen. With water from a red-top bottle (guaranteed pure by Eastcity Water Station) she washed the pot, then filled it with sterile earth and planted the seed, returning her treasure to the sill. With window closed and shutters clamped, she slept.
    ~
    She dozed in fits. The couch was lumpy and her blankets itched. The aamlon shift she wore was draughty. Evanescent nightmares – chased by hang-gliders, pursued by Citadel Guard; her escape from the collapsed house – troubled the stormy night’s small hours. When rain tinkled across the window panes she imagined flights of flower barbs, like tiny wasps attacking her face.
    Groggy and dry-eyed, she greeted Graaff-lin in the morning with little zest. Graaff-lin, for her part, seemed unconcerned by her new lodger, unless the air of calm masked inner uncertainty. She offered Zinina a breakfast of apple chunks and nut biscuits, and only spoke when she had finished eating. ‘We will have to change your status. You cannot remain a lapsed defender and survive. I think it would be best if you were re-registered as an independent.’
    Zinina did not care for the tone of this. ‘I ain’t sure that’s possible. I’d get far less food and water if I was an indep.’
    ‘You were a member of the Citadel Guard,’ Graaff-lin said sharply. ‘That’s quite a high post. They noticed your disappearance, and will have recorded it.’
    ‘Couldn’t say.’
    ‘As you will. But it is my guess that you will be listed as a deserter, in which case both water stations and both food stations will refuse to serve you. Your food card will be invalid, Zinina.’
    Reluctantly, Zinina agreed. ‘Watcha