Fear: A Gone Novel

breasts leaked milk.
    She felt in the dark and touched the baby’s arm. She fumbled the baby to her and cradled it. It latched on and again began to suck vigorously.
    In that first contact Diana had read the baby’s power level. A four bar now. The equal of Caine or Sam.
    A four bar. And still just a baby!
    “Our lady should carry our lord,” Brittney said.
    “Are you mental?” Penny was disbelieving. “Are you that stupid? You think this is Jesus in the manger and she’s Mary, you dumb metal-mouthed hick?”
    “I will walk in front,” Brittney announced. “I will make straight the way of the lord.”
    Diana looked down at the baby. She could see its cheek. Impossible. Nothing could be seen in this absolute darkness.
    And yet, she did see the baby’s cheek. And her squeezed-shut eyes. And her little rosebud mouth holding on. And then her fat little arm, and her tiny fist pressed into her mother’s breast.
    “She glows!” Brittney said. “Our lord gives us her light!”
    “That’s it, I’ve tried to put up with your—”
    “Hush!” Brittney put up a hand, amazingly visible in the glow that came from the baby. “She speaks to me. We must go forth....”
    “Go forth,” Penny echoed with cutting sarcasm. “Hallelujah. Drake’s a psycho but at least he’s not a moron.”
    “We must go to the barrier and prepare for our rebirth.”
    Diana heard all this, but her thoughts were all for the baby at her breast. It was, after all, her baby. The gaiaphage might be inside it, might take over its thoughts and use it. But something in there was still her daughter. Hers and Caine’s.
    And if terrible things awaited this little girl, whose fault was that? The guilt lay on Diana and Caine.
    Diana had no right to reject Gaia.
    The name came to her as if she’d known it all along. It made her sad. It would have been so much better if she could have named her baby Sally or Chloe or Melissa. But none of those would have been the right name.
    Gaia.
    Gaia’s eyes opened. She squinted blue eyes at Diana.
    “Yeah,” Diana said. “I’m your mommy.”
    “It’s a trail of lights,” Dekka said. “Wow. I can see my hands.”
    She stepped close to the Sammy sun and checked her body for marks. Penny’s vision had been powerful. Even now it was almost impossible to believe it was just an illusion. But her skin was unmarked.
    “Most of them go that way.”
    Orc pointed, and Dekka could actually see him. Not well, of course. Each small pebble that made up his body was surrounded by blackest shadows. His eyes were down inside deep wells. The small patch of human skin around his mouth and part of one cheek looked as gray-green as every other part of him.
    But he was real, not just a sound and a resistance at the fingertips.
    “Yeah. But what does that mean if more go one way?” She could see perhaps half a dozen of the suns spreading out to the right. Just four to the left. “I mean, they could be blocked. And it’s not like they show up all that well anyway. If we had a compass… I mean, Orc, we don’t even know which way is which. We don’t know if Sam is moving right or left from this point.”
    “I have an idea. But it’s probably stupid,” Orc said.
    “Stupid ideas are all we’ve got. So what is it?”
    “Well, can’t you see better if you’re up high?”
    Dekka said, “Yes, as a matter of fact. And that’s not stupid at all. In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
    Orc shrugged his massive shoulders. “You’re having a bad day.”
    This was such an understatement, and yet so kind in a way, that Dekka had to laugh. “You could say that. So, Orc, you want to fly a little?”
    “Me?”
    “Why not you? There’re some rocks over there. Better than dirt, because when I switch off gravity the dirt tends to float up and get in your eyes.”
    They moved to a rock outcropping. Orc stood stiff, like he was on display and wanted to look right. Dekka did her thing and Orc rose. At ten feet he let out a huge, delighted guffaw.
    “Hah! This is fun!”
    At thirty feet she could no longer see him at all. “What do you see, Orc?”
    “Fire,” he said. “And I think the Sammy suns are going that way.”
    “I’m bringing you down now.”
    When he was back on terra firma Dekka said, “The fire. What did it look like?”
    “Like it was two or maybe three different fires, but all close together.”
    “Perdido Beach?”
    “Maybe,” he said reluctantly.
    “Okay, so we follow the