Close Contact by Katherine Allred Page A

houses weren’t lined up with any symmetry. It looked like some giant had gathered them in his fist, given them a few shakes, and then tossed them to the ground, letting them fall where they may. And that was where they still sat. Narrow cobblestone streets wound around and through the city like pebbled snakes. The effect was strangely agreeable to the eye and made me feel like I’d been dropped into a fairy-tale kingdom.
    It took a few seconds for me to realize there was an eerily still quality about the city. I could hear low voices inside the homes, but no children were outside playing, no men coming and going, no women visiting with neighbors.
    A sudden rash of goose bumps crawled down my arms, and I rubbed them to soothe the sensation. “Lillith, what’s going on? Why aren’t there any people out?”
    “I don’t know. Something isn’t right.” She paused for a second. “Maybe there’s a danger I don’t perceive. There are too many soldiers on patrol in the streets. It might be a good idea to avoid them until we find out what’s going on.”
    “Any suggestions on how I’m supposed to do that?” I called Peri back to my shoulder, afraid she’d attract unwanted attention.
    “There’s a building with no heat signature and a recessed door not far from your location. Turn left at the next intersection, then right. The building is three down. Wait there until it’s full dark.”
    I followed her directions and found the building with no problems. It was a huge edifice, made of square-cut stone, and it dwarfed the houses around it. Even in the twilight it had a dark and eerie feeling. The front of the building faced away from the setting sun, so the entry was full of shadows. Moving all the way to the back of the entryway, I took my cloak from the pouch. It was a dark blue and would help conceal me.
    Pausing in the act of putting it on, I stared at the face etched on the door. It was a woman—a beautiful, devastatingly sad woman. A cowl covered her hair, leaving only that perfect face to draw the eye.
    “What is this place?” I asked Lillith, unsettled because it felt like the woman was watching me in sorrow.
    “I believe it’s a church,” she answered. “There are dozens of similar buildings scattered throughout the city.”
    “I don’t remember seeing anything about religion in the files.”
    “That’s because you skipped that part. The original colonists practiced Catholicism, but over the centuries, the father and son got left behind. Now they only worship the mother.The sociologists believe it evolved in that direction because men outnumbered the women settlers by five to one. The balance between the sexes is still skewed on Madrea, so motherhood is revered as the highest calling a woman can have, with girl children being highly prized. The Bashalde practice a totally different type of religion. They have so many gods it’s hard to keep track of them.”
    Maybe I should have studied the files a little more, I thought, trying to get comfortable in spite of the woman looking down on me. I’d barely settled when Lillith’s voice whispered in my ear. “There are two soldiers coming your way. Don’t move.”
    My breath froze in my lungs and I did my best to shrink into the wall. Time seemed to stand still as I waited for them to discover my hiding place.
    They sauntered into view and I lowered my gaze, unwilling to take a chance they might feel my stare. But I’d seen enough to know they weren’t acting like men expecting trouble. Both were dressed in tight black pants, knee-high boots, and ocher tunics topped by brown leather vests. The only weapons they carried were swords attached to belts around their waists.
    One made a low-voiced comment and the other laughed. Neither slowed nor so much as glanced at my refuge as they went by, and my puzzlement deepened.
    The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, and as soon as I was sure it was safe, my breath whooshed out in relief and