A World Too Near Read Free

“I will teach her to better please us.”
    He cocked his head. “If so.”
    She nodded.
    Then Inweer raised his arm, lifting SuMing’s limp body in an effortless maneuver that hauled her onto the railing. With his other hand he pulled her knees clear and deposited her on the floor, where the girl collapsed, twitching. A trickle of blood fell down her neck.
    Ignoring SuMing, Inweer resumed his conversation with Johanna. “It all has a price,” he said, gazing at the engine. “Even the gracious lords must pay a price for all we do.”
    Johanna watched SuMing shivering on the floor, her scalp pulled halfway from her head. She could not go to her yet.
    Inweer went on. “You understand the price?”
    “Insofar as I can.”
    “You can understand.”
    In saying this he required her to leave him blameless in the matter of the engine. The Tarig universe was failing, its power source rapidly depleting. Only one decent substitute existed: Johanna’s universe. So the burning of the Rose was the price for the billion sentient lives gathered here in their far-flung sways and in their common hopes for life and love. The same things that people on Earth desired, which only one place could have.
    SuMing inched away from the precipice and pulled herself into a ball, hugging her knees.
    “SuMing,” Johanna said, “can you walk?”
    “Yes, mistress,” she whispered.
    “Then go to bed.” Even traumatized and bleeding, SuMing should get out of Inweer’s sight quickly.
    SuMing looked up. Her expression might as easily have been hatred as gratitude.
She crawled backward for a small distance, eyes on Lord Inweer. Then she managed to stand up and stagger away.
    Johanna felt a cold river move through her, the currents of things to come. The person sitting on the rail might easily have been herself. It helped to watch how others faced a terrible death. SuMing had been brave.
    Inweer held out an arm for her. “Now you will rest?”
    She laid her hand on that hard skin, that tapering arm.
    It would all be so simple if she despised this Tarig lord. But that was far from the case.
    She looked into his dark eyes. “Yes,” she said, answering whatever he had asked her. She must always say yes. Loving him, it was easy to do. In most things she gladly obeyed, serving him in all ways but one.

CHAPTER TWO
    T ITUS QUINN WATCHED WITH ONLY A FEW MISGIVINGS as his niece and nephew played with the world’s most comprehensive standard-gauge model train collection outside of a museum. It was worth upward of a half-million dollars, and used to be off-limits to touching, except by himself. Today he allowed six-year-old Emily to hold the train set controls, and eleven-year-old Mateo to polish a locomotive. They were his only family in this universe, and he meant to cherish them until he returned to the other one.
    “All aboard,” Emily declared, presiding over the Ives New York Central model train, just pulling out of the station by the bookcase. She slammed the start button with her fist, causing Quinn to wince. The S-class locomotive strained to life, hauling four illuminated passenger cars plus flatcars, boxcars, tenders, and a caboose.
    Next to him at the dining room table, Mateo polished up the Coral Aisle, using the special cloth that Quinn reserved for the locomotives. “When will Mom and Dad be back?”
    “Tomorrow, Ace. You get to see them tomorrow.”
    Mateo’s face fell. “Maybe they’ll stay longer.”
    “Hold on,” he heard Emily say.
    The Ives New York Central barreled toward the sofa, zooming too fast into the turn. He saw the trajectory, and knew it would be grabbing air. He jumped up, gesturing uselessly. “Emily . . .”
    Too late for interventions, the locomotive jumped the tracks coming out of the turn, flying a couple of feet before folding back on the tender unit and first three passenger cars. It fell to the floor with a sickening clatter.
    Reaching Emily’s side, Quinn saw the tears welling, her face starting to