Written in Light

by Jeff Young

  “Yes,” Tunegura replied. “Proof that the imesht were trying to blackmail your species using the errors of its past.”

  Kendell stared at the helanx in shock.

  “One of the things that most species forget about the helanx is that we are very adaptable, as well as mechanically inclined. We can survive on most worlds designed by the species of the Galactic Community.”

  “And that makes you excellent observers.”

  “Well put, Kendell. Now, as an official representative of the Community, I need to ask you a very important question in consideration of the recent events. What will you do about the terra-forming information that the imesht are seeking?”

  Slumping back into the seat, Kendall thought, What could he do? Bran would stick to his deal with the imesht to sell out humanity. Wait, his mind must be moving slower than normal. “You have another ship waiting to pick us up,” he fired off, pointing at the helanx.

  “True, but not important. What will you do?”

  “Just a few hours ago, I told the imesht that I could not speak for Governance, now you want me to make a decision that will affect all of humanity. What makes you think that I have the right?”

  “You are in a unique position to do something that will show your species’ commitment to the Galactic Community. It doesn’t take a mandate to do that.”

  “Deep down, I know you are right. What can do we do?” He stopped for a moment, his breath catching at the audacity of the idea occurring to him. “We broadcast the terra-forming techniques as a gift to the Community as a whole.”

  “You do realize that this may eventually lead to the revelation of your past?”

  Looking at the images projected in front of him, the barren, scoured rock and ceaseless winds tore at Kendall. “We’ve hidden it for too long. We’ve held on to this technology with no place to use it because we aren’t competing in the Disputes.” We should have used it here, he thought. Then he rounded on Tunegura once more. “If we do this, we should have the right to compete in the Diversiform Disputes.”

  Tunegura stated, “Do you, as a representative of the Human Governance, offer the terra-forming technologies to the Galactic Community as a whole?”

  “I do,” Kendell replied.

  “You have helped your species take another step toward inclusion into the greater Community. Your worlds will be welcome to compete in the Disputes. As a consideration of your efforts to uncover the plot by the imesht, I will ensure that humanity will also receive help from the Galactic Community that will increase the efficiency of your transition ships.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you have proved yourself worthy, as a species. And as a representative, you have proved that you can make the right choice for the greater good of the whole, a galactic whole, instead of for purely personal or species gain.”

  Kendell sighed. All the tension ran out of his body. Sprawling back in his seat, he looked again at the ground below them. “Maybe one day, we can do the right thing and use what we now know to correct our mistake. One day we can welcome your kind here as a visitor.”

  The helanx spun its wheel briefly. “You can welcome all of us.”

  A Talent Beyond My Talents

  Avalem came to the Pillar of Night when his art failed him for what he decided was the last time. Looking upward at the vast cylinder that blotted out the sun and cast its shadow across the lands to the east, he forced himself to admit his ability had not always failed him. Second thoughts gnawed at him as he tried to make a case for all the things he remained good at: painting, illuminating, drawing, writing. But overall, he was just good at these. He would never excel at any of them, and no one wanted to pay for just good when it came to art. Might as well paint a barn or do accounting or drafting, Avalem thought. I know I was meant for more. So, when his latest commission failed to live up to his patron’s expectation, Avalem left. He turned toward the east and walked across the lands until he came to the Pillar of Night.

  The stories said much about the Pillar: the Long-Chain-Makers left it when they fled Earth; hollow, it went up so high that no air remained at its peak; and that people lived inside of it.

  But those were not the stories that brought Avalem here. The Greal story moved him inexorably to the Pillar of Night. A strange thing that could imbue a man with a talent beyond his current abilities. He’d seen some of the art made by the Greal-touched and it amazed him. A depth to every piece that seemed to transcend what a mere man could create. Such pieces were priceless, and collectors of fine works fought like feral dogs over them. So, Avalem came for the Greal, to step beyond what he was, no matter the price.

  The closer Avalem approached, the less of the sky he could see until the Pillar stood like a vast silvery wall covered in dark gray veins. He shook his head in amazement.

  According to legend, in the last days of their leaving, the Long-Chain-Makers grew the Pillar and launched themselves from its peak. They built the tesseract out of the Moon, its eerie emanations only visible overhead at night. Like divers, they jumped from the edge of the solar system to swim for other stars. They went out amongst the other worlds and rearranged things to their liking. One of these days, he thought, others will tell stories just as fantastic about me.

  A well-worn path led him onward into the valley. At the lowest point lay the entrance to a tunnel. Just inside that tunnel, as the light began to fade, someone stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest, bringing him to a halt.

  “How you planning on seeing, boy?” came a rough voice. A tiny light appeared beside the face of a gray-haired man.

  Avalem started and stepped backward. It hadn’t occurred to him that the Pillar of Night would be completely dark. An opening at the top allowed some light to get in. Of course, he hadn’t planned on the tunnel either. The man looked at him with a bit of a grin and offered, “Could sell you this here light if you need it.”

  He handed the strange lamp to Avalem. The loop of glass tube contained one small bright point of light. The light bobbed about as Avalem tilted the tube.

  “Gonna’ play with it or buy it?” barked the seller, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “A fiscum,” Avalem offered, turning the light about again.

  “Two, that’s final.”

  “Done.” The man grabbed the silvers from Avalem’s palm and turned to go into the darkness.

  Without thinking, Avalem asked, “Don’t you need a lamp?” Looking at the lamp merchant, he realized there were several of the tubes tied together on the man’s back, all of which glowed. The merchant’s eyes flashed in the half-light, gleamed like an animal’s outside of a fire circle.

  “Do I look like I need a lamp?” The merchant’s footsteps faded into the darkness. Then Avalem heard him exclaim in the distance, “Don’t forget to tell it you love it!”

  Crazy old man, Avalem thought, starting down the path once more. When he held the lamp out to the side, he could barely see anything in the darkness. There were no walls nearby, and the ceiling hung invisible overhead. Occasional drops of water fell on him, and the ground felt rough and uneven. Avalem kept on walking.

  At first, he thought the light became dimmer with each step. Then the lamp went out, the bright point fading away. Shaking the tube of glass produced nothing. The lamp seller tricked him.

  The darkness closed in around Avalem, and his breathing grew hoarse. He would be trapped here at the mercy of the strange inhabitants of the foothills who could see in the dark. With some trepidation, he cleared his throat and said, “I love you.” The spark grew to a globe the size of a grape and gave off a soft, lambent light. It made no sense, but looking at the light source again, he said, “I love you. I love you.” In his own mind, he realized that he loved the fact that it was no longer dark, and he no longer felt afraid. The spark of light before him grew into a white-hot sphere that pushed at the confines of the glass tube. Avalem grasped the tube using the edges of his cloak to keep his hands from burning. Then he turned
back to the path.

  He couldn’t determine the point at which he entered the Pillar of Night. A small amount of ambient light caught his attention. As his eyes grew used to having something to lock onto, Avalem thrust the lamp under the edge of his cloak. The land around him glowed in an unexpected reddish radiance. He could see a body of water ahead that shone with a crimson aura illuminating its depths. The grass under his feet looked black with a single stripe of glowing incarnadine down the spine of its shaft. Trees were dark forms that loomed upward. The country of Night was nothing like he expected.

  He took several steps and then pitched forward, tripping over a rock he had not seen. Avalem pulled out the lamp once more. It would mark him as a stranger here, but the alternative was to stumble through the darkness and hope his eyes would adapt. He made good time walking a game trail along the edges of a wood. Several deer, their eyes blazing golden reflections, bounded out ahead of him and crashed through the underbrush. He stole another look at the heavens. Did the pinpoint of light he could see overhead grow dimmer? A few steps further, and he felt certain. Night in this country would mean absolute darkness, he thought as he made his way into the woods.

  Finding a fir tree, Avalem cut down several low limbs and made himself a bower. Wrapping his cloak about him, he did his best to get comfortable. Perhaps it was the darkness, but he dropped off to sleep despite his strange surroundings without any hesitation.

  He woke to a dim flickering lamp. Swiftly, he renewed his vow to it, and just as he said the word “love,” it brightened once again. Gathering his belongings, Avalem left his sleeping place, resuming his quest. He continued onward as the land dipped down. Forty miles from one side to the other, the land of The Pillar of Night lay before him, and his goal was the sinking well at its center. When he stepped into a stream, it occurred to Avalem that now he had a guide. Follow the water down to the center of the country of Night and he would arrive.

  Walking along, he lost any concept of time. He could see better now. Perhaps his eyes were adapting. There were no homes or buildings along the side of the stream as he trudged on. Silvery white fish with huge bulbous eyes swam upstream against the current. He found their motion disturbing and odd. Avalem hoped his food would hold out until he left the Pillar once again.

  The land continued to slope downward. Down and down, he went, scrambling over half-seen rocks as he followed the water. The sound of it running and gurgling filled his ears. It kept his mind off of what might be wandering the forest unseen about him. After a time, he saw a glow of red below him as the forest pulled back away from the stream.

  When he scrambled over the last rock, Avalem set the lamp down for a moment. The stream flowed across a plain until it came to a lake that glowed with red light. There were copses of trees here and there and large rocks that dotted the flat land. Glancing up, he saw what looked like a slender thread that hung down from the darkness overhead. White at its center, the light from the outside faded to red and then to darkness. Underneath lay the lake, and it glowed with reflected luminance. This is my destination, he told himself. He picked up the lamp and started eagerly out onto the plain.

  Standing on the shore of the lake, his hands and cloak painted red with the reflected light, Avalem breathed a sigh of satisfaction. I am here. At last, I am here. He shrugged off his cloak and dropped his satchel on the shoreline. Beside the source of the Greal, he hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

  Hearing a footfall, he turned to discover a group of men had come up behind him.

  “You have no idea what to do next. Do you, boy?” The group’s largest member strode forward. He held a stout walking staff tucked up under his arm. Turning back to the others, he continued, “They spend all their time trying to get here and then never have a clue what’s next.” This brought a chuckle from the other dozen men. The staff bearer turned back to Avalem. “Well, if you have no idea, I have a suggestion.” The staff came out from under his arm, its end swinging around in an arc that ended against Avalem’s head.

  Staggering backward into the lake, Avalem threw up his hands to ward off another attack. Swinging the weapon over his head, Avalem’s attacker ducked in for another jab, knocking Avalem onto his back and into the water.

  Feeling his feet slip out beneath him, Avalem kicked feebly in the water and then slid under the surface. Flailing about in the red darkness of the lake, he hit bottom and pushed himself back up again. Taking shuddering breaths, Avalem lurched out of the lake. His attacker looked up from the contents of Avalem’s satchel. “Still haven’t figured it out, have you?” the man growled, his hands tightening on the staff once more. Avalem crouched down in the reeds and balled his fists, anticipating another strike. The leader of the band feinted once toward Avalem’s head and then swung the end of the staff around hard into his victim’s stomach. The air burst from Avalem. He teetered on his heels for a moment, his belly lurching in pain. The red light wheeled overhead, and a rushing sound filled his ears. He wasn’t breathing. Knees buckling, Avalem pitched forward. Just before he hit the water, he pulled in a ragged breath and heard from his assailant. “You’ve gotta drink it, boy, drink it deep.” Then Avalem plunged into the lake, its cold water cascading down his throat.

  Reddish light exploded behind his eyes and in the water about him. He felt himself strike bottom. The water he’d breathed in came choking out, and more water slid into his mouth and up his nose. His feet slipped, and his hands sank into the mud. I’m going to die here, he thought. Flailing his arms about, he pushed himself away from the mud. For a moment, he lost the surface. So little light fell into the depths and then diffused throughout the lake. In his confusion, Avalem pushed out his legs and arms, seeking any contact. He felt a grip settle around his ankle, pulling him from the lake. As soon as his head broke the water, Avalem spit up the remaining water. Soaking wet and shivering, he clung to the shoreline. Something blocked out the red light, and he drew back, still gasping in air.

  “Welcome to Night, boy. Hope you found what you were looking for. Thanks for all the goods. Won’t be seeing you again.”

  The owner of the voice strode off into the dark, his footfalls diminishing. Avalem felt his awareness start to fade. The light in front of his eyes wavered. He pulled at the reeds around him, trying to draw himself from the water before losing consciousness. He dragged his feet over the rocks of the shoreline and then curled into a shivering ball.

  ~*~

  Avalem expected anything but warmth upon awakening. Clean blankets and sheets covered his nakedness. As he pulled himself into a sitting position, memories of almost drowning made him twitch.

  Inside a room with minimal light, fibers drooped from the ceiling like fishing nets. Thick strands of material draped over everything in the room, covering a chair, a loom, a spinning wheel, and a wardrobe. A small window, shrouded as if wrapped in cobwebs, let in a tiny amount of light. He lay on the floor, he realized, wrapped in a nest of blankets. Pulling one around his hips, he climbed to his feet. Ducking low to avoid the hanging strands, he walked through the small, dim room to the doorway. The next room was larger, the ceiling again lost in fibrous netting. But he estimated this room, which looked to be the main one of the house, to be at least two stories tall.

  He held his hand in front of his face for a moment. Even in the dimness of the room, he could see the lines on his palms. Blinking, he looked again. He knew his hands. He used them all the time in his work. Why did they look different now? Did the fingers look longer? Certain the lines were not where he remembered. Even his arms felt awkward, as though his forearms were too long and didn’t fit. A rustling sound from overhead pulled him away from his observations. Looking up, he saw a graceful pair of legs push through the overhanging strands. The rest of the woman who followed was lithe and slim. She smiled at him for a moment and then, touching down on the floor, turned away to the other side of the room. Stopping, she looked over her shoulder and said, “I am very glad to find you better. Please come and break yo
ur fast with me.”

  Avalem followed her into yet another chamber lit by several of the strange lights like his lost lamp. His hostess touched each in passing, and the illumination within grew brighter. In the increased light, Avalem noticed the woman’s strange garment. From some angles, it appeared to be a short dress, but as she turned, he could see that more of her legs were covered than he remembered. Stumbling a bit over the sheet wrapped about his hips, he then noticed her one bare shoulder and how the dress gathered up at one thigh. Looking away and then back, he found that her clothing altered yet again. The fabric was constantly in motion, individual strands sliding to and fro in an unsettling manner.

  So instead, he focused on her face, its slim lines set into a knowing smile. She pushed her long red hair over one shoulder, and he saw something in the line of her back that made him want to look twice, but she turned away, pulling fruit from a cabinet and placing it in woven baskets that were on a low table that sat along one wall. She drew a chair from the other side of the room and placed it next to the one at the table. “Please,” she said, urging him to sit down. Avalem managed the feat without falling over but with little grace. A quick smile traced its way across her face as she joined him at the table.

  His hostess revealed bread, apples, and other fruits. Despite the soreness of his throat, Avalem found himself quite hungry. She pushed the baskets across the top of the table in front of him and settled back to watch, her hands clutching a small cup of tea. Breaking off bread, he dipped it in a small dish of honey and paused after the first bite, eyes closed in enjoyment. Her short laugh caught him by surprise.