The First Immortal

by Leo Lukas

  As far as political views were concerned, they were on the same wavelength. They detested racism and nationalism. They welcomed the entry of Akon into the multi-ethnic Forum Raglund as progress. Even so, Achab made it very clear that as one of the oldest civilized peoples in the Galaxy, the Akonians should act from a position of strength. For him, that included the development of new technologies of their own. On the other hand, they followed with great concern the increasing bloc formation in the Galaxy, especially the neo-hegemonic efforts of the Arkonide Crystal Imperium. Their galaxy was slowly but surely turning into a container for an Arkon-Bomb. Perversely, the most dangerous tendencies were evidenced by those peoples who had arisen from common ancestors: the Lemurians.

  Lemuria. The cradle of humanity. Which stood on Lemur, the third planet of the Sol system, later called Larsaf III and still later Terra. From which we humanoids set out to settle this galaxy and several others.

  About 55,000 years ago ...

  Although Aykalie burned with curiosity to find out what Achab's experimental detection systems had discovered, she did not press her lover. As always, they parted without a word and without any ado. They both held the admittedly somewhat superstitious view that only someone who didn't hope to see the other again soon made a fuss about saying goodbye.

  Aykalie tan Taklir slipped into her clothes. Maphan Achab ta Mentec smoothed out his silken toga, stepped to a desk, and took out a small data storage crystal that he handed to Aykalie. She tucked it away, blew her lover a kiss, and then was gone.

  3

  The Clear Fever, the Beast, and Yet Another Fateful Encounter

  In one respect the tips Boryk's fathers gave him turned out to be correct: the higher he climbed, the easier his progress was. He even imagined that he weighed less. Or was it actually the first signs of delirium? Harbingers of altitude sickness?

  Lighter or not, it was still exhausting and sweat-inducing enough. Again and again, towering masses of dirt from mud-slides blocked the path, forcing detours through dangerous terrain. Boryk climbed over wobbly blocks of rock the size of cottages, their sharp edges scraping the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet. A gravel slope slid out from under him and the avalanche of stones very nearly tore him along with it into the depths. Every movement hurt, his hunger and thirst were only increasing.

  Just before daybreak, in the darkest hour when the moons had already sunk into the sea but the sun had not yet risen, he had climbed and passed the first lesser peaks of the volcano chain. A few meters below the ridge, he tumbled exhausted into a hollow where he wanted to rest for a bit—and jumped back, because he had stepped on a soft body.

  Boryk's cry woke Gujnar with a start. "What the—oh, it's you. Can't you watch where you're walking, you idiot?"

  Then Rautsh pushed his head out from under the thick tarp that covered the pair. "You can lie down here with us for all I care, squirt," he grumbled, "but keep your trap shut and let me sleep." Boryk was tempted to accept the invitation. He lay down and was about to stretch out his tired legs, but something bothered him. "I thought you'd be a long way away by now," he said in a low voice to Gujnar.

  "Are you crazy? This is as far as we're going."

  He thought he had heard wrong. "What ... ? As far as you're going?"

  "Say, are you really that dim-witted or do you just act like it? We just wait here nice and cozy for a couple of days, then we climb back down."

  Boryk stared at his crèche-brother in complete incomprehension. "But ... "

  "Pipe down!" Rautsh growled from under the cover.

  "You heard me," Gujnar whispered. "Now come on, be sensible for once in your life. I'll even let you have some of our supplies. We have enough water and sweetbars for three."

  Boryk's head spun. This was how it was supposed to go? A mountain hike and a picnic?

  "No ... it can't be."

  "Of course it can. Our uncle and his friends did exactly the same thing last year. And they weren't the first by a long shot."

  "But ... but they said they climbed up into Heaven and down into Hell. That they fought with the Beyonders and stole their most beautiful girls and spent many hours with them doing ... well, you know."

  "So, that's the same story we'll tell, you dope. Who can stop us? As long as we cover for each other, nobody can prove any different."

  Boryk felt as though someone had pulled the ground out from under his feet. Becoming a Man, the Holy Quest, the great adventure—was it just a fraud, a gigantic lie woven out of camaraderie and boasting?

  No. He simply could not imagine that Fosse had also lied and cheated back then. The fat one was occasionally a little distracted, and his apathy bordered on laziness. But he had always told Boryk the truth. Always.

  Although ... Could he really be so certain of that? Grown-ups didn't respect children as equals, and especially not him.

  "Maybe so. It just isn't ... right. I mean, it says in the Holy Writ that ... "

  "I've had it!" Rautsh threw the cover back and leaped up. "Enough with the stupid yakking! Get it through your head once and for all, you little idiot—you don't have any choice! Either you go along or I'll beat you into a pulp and then throw you into the deepest crevice I can find with my own hands. Is that clear?"

  Boryk did not answer. His throat felt dried out. He did not utter a sound.

  "You bet it's clear!" The twins, taller than Boryk by at least a head, drew themselves up threateningly in front of him. There was sympathy in Gujnar's expression, but it was out of the question that he would go against his brother when the chips were down. Rautsh trembled with anger. He bent over and picked up a large stone. The flashing in his eyes emphasized that he was serious about his threat.

  Deadly serious.

  At that moment, something happened to Boryk. Something within him broke like a thin shell, and something was hatched. He grew hot from the inside outwards. A wild fever seized him, pulsing through him all the way to his fingertips. But it was not a side effect of dizziness or stupidity. Just the opposite. He felt a great clarity. Never before in his life had he ever seen with such sharpness. Despite the vague morning twilight, he could make out every little vein, every little hair, every pore in the face of the youth standing before him.

  Rautsh hesitated, teetering on the tips of his toes. He stared down at him. For the first time, Boryk did not lower his eyes but met the gaze of his crèche-brother.

  "Put the stone down," Boryk said in a low voice. The syllables flowed from his mouth as though of their own accord. As though he was not the one speaking but another, a stranger. Someone who had just awakened within him.

  And Rautsh obeyed.

  All three stared in disbelief. Something enormous, something incredible, had happened and was still happening.

  "I will go on," said the one who spoke with Boryk's voice. "You will not stop me, nor will you follow me. You will let me go my way. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes ... Boryk."

  "And now go back to sleep."

  He had not gone ten steps from the hollow when a duet of snoring could be heard behind him.

  The sun came up. As he had feared, it struck him as unpleasantly glaring in the eyes since he was many hundreds of meters closer to it than down on the plain. Even so, he was still only about halfway up the volcano cliffs. The path was now hard to make out, apparently seldom used. Still, there was a path, however faint, so Boryk followed it. Gradually tension and euphoria drained away. In their place came a splitting headache. Hunger, thirst, and tiredness returned as well.

  Boryk strode on his way, half in a trance. He could not understand what had happened back there on the lower ridge. He had defied the twins. More than that: Gujnar and Rautsh had backed down, had allowed him to give them orders. And they had obeyed without a peep of objection! He never would have thought that possible, even in his wildest dreams.

  Unfortunately, the feeling of power he had felt then had now faded. The new, big Boryk had withdra
wn once more. The old, small Boryk began to doubt the correctness of his spontaneous decision. His crèche-brothers' arguments had something to them. Why take on new agonies, why risk his life, when there was a simpler way?

  At least he should have rested and fortified himself! Warmth, water, and sweetbars ... His tongue stuck to his gums, his stomach rebelled. The wind stabbed at his naked, wounded back with icy needles. Uncertain, he went on putting one foot in front of the other, and steep as the path was, he had to use his hands for support. Higher and higher he climbed. And so did the sun, though with considerably less effort.

  Yes, the sun had it good. It glided along the sky and nothing blocked its path. The clouds got out of its way. And it made an elegant bend around the thick column of smoke that rose from the highest volcano peak. Boryk, meanwhile, thousands of meters below it, fought his way along narrow, sloping rock ledges and abrupt steps that were much too high for his short legs.

  In the early afternoon, after difficult, almost vertical climbing, he reached the saddle of a pass. Here, the wind blew so strongly that Boryk had to crouch on all fours to keep from being blown away. Crawling on his stomach, he traversed the narrow cut between two cliffs. After he had descended some fifty meters on the other side—where the path was steepest, rusty cables and steps had been installed, though the latter were set too far apart to be of much use to him—a gently rolling plateau stretched out before him. It was about twice the size of the village and the ceremonial plaza put together. Low, wind-blown, half-withered bushes covered the plateau. While the path snaking its way through them was now almost level and much more passable, the thorns on the plants scratched Boryk's thighs. He didn't have very many uninjured places left on his body ...

  The beast suddenly stood in front of him almost as though it had shot out of the ground. Never before had he seen such a large creature. The wide-open maw spanned a good three square meters by itself. Each of the yellowish fangs was longer than Boryk's own body. He saw chunks of rock rolling in the animal's throat and being ground by its massive jaws. The sight of it sent his panic level sky-high. If it could swallow and digest rock, how much easier would a weak little human being be for it?

  Boryk had been warned about wild, rabid beasts ever since he could remember. Even in the children's crèche, he had been threatened with them. "If you don't behave yourself, the beasts will come and get you!"

  And now one had. If only he had listened to Rautsh and Gujnar and stayed with them! But no, he had to play the hero. Now the punishment for his presumption was racing towards him. He would never see the Garden of Everwas again, and Fosse and his mother would never learn what had happened to him.

  As though paralyzed, Boryk stood there unable to move a limb or even to gasp for air. The monster approached him, stamping, emitting gurgling and screeching sounds as well as black clouds of vapor. It loomed over him like a rolling mountain. Three hemispherical eyes sitting on top of the monstrous, deformed skull gave off bluish flashes. Now the two rows of teeth were starting to close around Boryk ... Suddenly he snapped out of his paralysis and he threw himself to the side, just in time.

  Then he ran for all his legs were worth. The beast followed him, flattening everything that stood in its way. Bushes, hummocks of soil, rocks ... He thought it was so close behind him that he could feel its hot breath on the back of his neck. He darted from side to side, but it refused to be shaken off. Hissing, wheezing, and snorting, it came after him. More than once he managed to avoid the slavering fangs only by a desperate sideways leap, He had taken off running blindly in a random direction. Now he realized that he happened to be running towards the steepest of the rock walls that surrounded the plateau. No path led upwards there, not even the narrowest of dangerous steep tracks. There was no escape. He found himself wanting to accept his fate, stop in discouragement, simply fall down and let the beast have him. Then he discovered a hole at the foot of the rock wall. A cave entrance, definitely too narrow for the beast! With his last strength he dove into it. Rolled. Came up again, then so clumsily rammed his foot against a loose stone that he sprained it. With his teeth clenched in pain, he limped deeper into the dark cave. Behind him the beast thundered against the rock wall, wedged itself in the opening, and, howling horribly in rage and in a killing frenzy, began to widen the opening with its teeth. Boryk's whole body trembled, he fell again, and crawled onwards. The ground vibrated under the beast's furious onslaught ...

  ... and gave way.

  Boryk fell into emptiness, into the endless darkness.

  He struck so hard that he was afraid he had broken every bone in his body. He lay there numbly, a trembling heap of misery. A bundle of fear and agony.

  Some time later, the animal noises far above him stopped, as though suddenly cut off. Then there was only silence. Boryk heard nothing but the roaring of blood in his ears.

  And yet. Then there were ...

  Voices.

  At first he couldn't understand them. Then they came nearer. They came from above, not far from the hole through which he had fallen.

  " ... I swear to you, I have no idea why the Digger went crazy. It's supposed to sense organic combinations, collect them, and splice them, because certain passes ... "

  "I know what I ordered. Are you sure the commands were correctly formulated?"

  "Hey, I didn't start doing this yesterday! Careful—the deck is broken through here."

  "Not again. Sometimes I think this whole damned rotten mountain could collapse around us at any moment. Do you have the lamp handy?"

  "Sure."

  A beam of light passed across Boryk's face. Blinded, he closed his eyes. He wanted to call out, but could hardly manage even a croak. And he could hardly move as he was buried under debris up to his hips.

  "There's something down below. Look—somebody's lying there."

  "How did he get ... ? That's not one of us. One of the Flatlanders. What would that bumpkin want ... Oh, I get it. I completely forgot about that. Yesterday was the Autumn Solstice."

  "Oh, good grief. Is that still going on?"

  "Seems so. Although none of them have gone astray here in a long time."

  "Maybe he came from the other side?"

  "No. They only go into heat in the spring, if at all."

  "What should we do with him?"

  "I'm afraid we can't just leave him lying down there. There aren't any exits on that level, just collapsed and half filled-in tunnels. Besides, he's probably injured. You go down. I'll secure you."

  "Why me?"

  "Because I'm the Matekten and you're just the Espechl, that's why. Now move so we can get this over with. As if we don't have other worries, dammit!"

  Opening his eyes slightly, Boryk saw a finger-thick cable being lowered. A little later, a human figure recognizable only as a black silhouette against the light above let itself down. The unknown person touched down with legs spread wide in order not to step on Boryk.

  "Well, then? Aren't you still a little small for a long hike like this? Can you understand what I'm saying at all?"

  Boryk nodded. "Today I ... turned ... seven. Grown," he added flatly, a little insulted.

  "There, there. Take it easy, don't move until I've got you free. Mateken!" the figure called up. "Toss me a lamp down here. I want to examine him to see if he can be moved."

  A kind of torch came flying down, spinning in the air. The stranger deftly caught it and placed it on a rock outcropping. Now the entire chamber was lit in a soft yellow.

  The stranger's boots immediately caught Boryk's attention. They showed no visible seams or even laces. The trouser legs also seemed to be made of one piece. There must be incredibly skilled clothes-makers here. On the stranger's upper body, he—no, she, Boryk corrected himself, blushing—wore a jacket with small pockets. It was similar to what the Tennoi, the Guardians, wore in the Garden of Everwas. But this was much more finely made, and Boryk had never seen anything like its closure. The hair of the woman, who had to be about three or four year
s older than he was, was hidden under a helmet. Around her neck dangled spectacles with strangely thick frames.

  "My name is Duani," she said as she began to clear away the debris. "What's yours?"

  "Boryk. I was running away from the beast and then ... "

  "The beast? Oh, you mean the Digger. Now I understand—it took you for an especially rich concentration of raw materials! And of course you don't have a code sender on you ... "

  Boryk understood little of what Duani said. But he liked her voice. And her nose. The attractive way her ears stood out so prominently. The angular chin. And the strong hands that she used to wipe the dust from his face.

  She noticed him noticing her. "You'd think you've never seen a woman before."

  "But I have. Three thousand! Well, almost. If you include the girls."

  "Is your village that large?"

  "Mm hmm," he replied, nodding proudly. Although he was not entirely certain she wasn't teasing him. It occurred to him that Duani and her Matekten were probably two of the "Shadow People" that he was supposed to be careful of.

  The inhabitants of the volcano mountains are not like us, he thought, repeating what the Jittris in the village school had taught him. They live unchaste and godless lives because they do not let the Holy Writ guide them. That is why we stay far from them, and should we even so happen to encounter them, we refuse any contact. No one but the Maffan may trade with them, and even he only twice a year.

  It was embarrassing for Boryk when the woman cleaned him with damp, fragrant cloths that she took from one of her jacket pockets. Then she felt over his body carefully and almost tenderly. He struggled against an erection and lost. She didn't notice it, however, and instead asked him to move his fingers and toes, then his arms, legs, and head.

  "Well, either you're an especially tough little guy or you've had some outrageous luck. Lots of scratches and bruises," she called up to the hole, "and a rather swollen sprained ankle, but nothing really bad as far as I can tell. I think we can take the risk of hoisting him up."