Hearts and Stones - Robin D. Owens Page 0,2

clear. We have not had enough rain or snow lately.

An eyewash of collected rainwater in the canyon had dissolved the gunk for hours and allowed Pizi to see. But creek water didn’t do the same. Levona didn’t know if city water, with all the additives, would work, either.

They stopped at the pond’s culvert opening, dense in years-thick brittle grasses and weeds, enough to keep them warm.

Before she went in, Levona added force rings to her fingers. Made of hard plastcal, they would hurt any attacker with each blow. If Levona grabbed on pressure points, she’d disable an attacker long enough for Pizi and her to escape. Her parents, both practitioners of martial arts, had taught her their skills, and how to use the rings, worked with her, until they died.

The rings wouldn’t maim or kill. She hadn’t devolved to match feral humans living underground, common criminals, psi-hater mob people, or fanatics.

Her energy stayed edgy as they trekked through the ancient waterways, the culverts and ditches and tunnels, kept her energy on edge. Pizi chattered a bit, then the darkness got to her. She curled tighter in her pocket and slept.

Levona told herself she preferred it that way.

Finally the night lightened to dawn, spearing sun through a series of broken street-drains, and Levona knew they neared the intersection with the newer city tunnels.

She stared at the end of the culvert, a rockface, and the barely-person-sized hole halfway up the wall to her left that led to the CentralConglom systems. If she’d planned on staying here in her hometown, she’d have considered hiding that breach entrance.

Careful climbing ahead, and she sure didn’t want to bang her pack or Pizi. So she opened Pizi’s pocket and woke her.

Yay, I get out!

“Mind your steps and your jumps and stay close, no exploring,” Levona muttered.

I will!

Levona placed the cat on the top stone of the hole, used their psychic link to string another sensory thread between them, watched as Pizi hopped down and began nosing around. Then Levona clambered through the opening.

Treading softly in the two-person wide and poorly lit tunnel, avoiding the patchy nanogrid that would mark their passage and alert security, they made it several kilometers before a watery rush hit Levona’s ears. Pizi hopped around. Water! NEW water? That can help my eyes?

As she scooped up the cat, Levona minded her step as she moved to pipes along a wall. A stingy, dim yellow century bulb protruded from the wall, surrounded by mesh to stop vermin.

With a squint, and actually moving her lips, she read the gov symbols on the wall near two marked pipes leading into CentralConglom. Filtered Fresh, no doubt heading to the upperclass neighborhoods and downtown high level gov suites, and Water Intake, a much larger pipe for everyone else. Both had out-take spigots with handles.

Levona could maybe steal a trickle or two. Fill up a small bottle for Pizi. By the time the guards discovered the theft, it would be long done and believed minor. She reminded Pizi of the grid, but thought the cat’s weight wouldn’t be noticed. Near the pipes the grid became pressure-sensitive matting. Levona could reach the handle with the long-grip piece of the multi-tool she kept in her bag.

She lowered her pack, took out the multi-tool and the bottle, lit the tool and extended thin rods on both of them. Holding her breath, she tried the Fresh Filtered handle. Stuck.

Pizi mewed.

If Levona had been alone, she’d’ve given up. But she didn’t steal for herself. For her cat and friend, Levona would do pretty much anything.

Try again. Fail. Settle into her balance and ground herself, breathe correctly. One more attempt without using the additional step of lubricant that might set off an alarm.

The handle turned. Levona filled the thin bottle the length of her hand, 225 milliliters of excellent water. No hesitation, no drips, no spillage. Good.

Her fingers trembling, she shut off the flow and turned off the multi-tool’s light and put it away in her pack, burying it at the bottom of the main compartment.

Sit, she ordered Pizi mentally.

The little cat did, lifting her head trustfully.

Levona dampened a clean rag with the water, gently wiped Pizi’s eyes until the crusting dissolved. With mountain precipitation, the glop would soften quickly and remain gone for about six hours. Levona didn’t know what this water would do, but since Pizi didn’t squeal like she had from creek water, Levona thought it might be safe.

They waited a good five minutes before Pizi blinked and opened her eyes