Free Watchstar by Pamela Sargent Page A

herself.
    Daiya felt a prodding at the edge of her consciousness and turned. Cerwen was watching her from one end of the public space. Even at a distance, he looked large, a head taller than those nearest him, his stiff graying hair like a nimbus. He motioned to her with one muscular brown arm.
    Mausi glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. Daiya shrugged.—Remember—Mausi thought—if you're going out again tomorrow, I'll go with you as far as the foothills—
    Daiya nodded, then walked toward her grandfather. As she moved closer to him, she felt her neck prickle and her stomach tighten. She did not smile at him; he did not smile at her.
    He adjusted his gray tunic, which looked as though it was pinching his big shoulders, then took her arm, propelling her out of the space and into a nearby path. Not that he needed to hold her; if he wished, he could force her to move mentally. He walked slowly, so that she could keep up with him on her shorter legs, but she still had to walk quickly to keep pace with him. They passed Fayl NuraBaan, the blind man, another Merging One. She felt his warm greeting; his mind was filled with the smells of dirt, flowers, and sweat, the sounds of the murmuring children in the public space behind, all sharper, more pungent, more vivid than for sighted people. Fayl smiled, his sightless hazel eyes staring past them. He moved on, joining his mind to that of the old woman with him so that he could see with her eyes. If one like Fayl could pass the ordeal, Daiya thought, then surely she could.
    Cerwen stopped suddenly in front of a long hut, as large as three or four family huts put together. It was a hut in which Merging Selves lived; she had been inside one only a few times. Her grandfather seemed to spend most of his time in this one, though that might not be the case. Merging Selves slept where there were spare mats and ate where there was food, migrating from hut to hut when they felt like it. They did not pay visits as frequently as others; they did not invite children and adults to their own huts very often. They did not have to, since they could easily find out what was happening elsewhere in the village and could mindspeak at a distance.
    He gestured at the doorway and she went inside, knowing he had something serious to tell her. She peered around the inside of the hut, which seemed as dark as a cave, with only a space between the walls and the roof for ventilation, and no windows. Five old people sat in the center of the room, drinking wine and communing. In a far corner, two men and a woman, having apparently just finished making love, exchanged kisses while pulling on their clothes. The woman looked at Daiya and began to walk toward her while tying her shirt at her waist. Then Daiya saw who she was: Leito SeyiNen, Anra's mother, Daiya's grandmother. She searched herself, trying to recall when she had last seen Leito. She had been swallowed up by the Merging Ones; unlike Brun's mother Rilla, Leito had adapted easily. She was as close to God as one could be in this world.
    Cerwen sat down and so did Daiya. Leito patted her on the head and seated herself near Cerwen. Leito still looked young. Her dark brown hair was thick and glossy, her face unlined except for a few wrinkles near her large green eyes, her body slim. I wish I were more like her, Daiya thought, thinking of both Leito's body and mind.
    There was a shadow in the doorway; it entered and joined them. She looked up; it was her other grandfather, Morgen BianZeki. He grinned at her, making his round pudgy face even pudgier; his eyes were slits. She touched his friendly and uncomplicated mind, feeling a little better but knowing that only something drastic could have lured the easygoing Morgen away from his vineyards. He, too, by virtue of his unquestioning mind, was close to God and the other Merging Ones.
    She drew up her legs and tried to sit still. It was her upcoming passage, of course; what else could it be? She pulled at her hair