by James Gurley
He sat down, exhausted by the effort to release the words that had flowed from his lips without thought, as if they had been on the tip of his tongue waiting for the proper time to be loosed. Many of the others looked at him oddly, but he noticed Brother Alistair smiling at him appraisingly before he stood.
“From the mouths of babes,” he said. “Tad de Silva is right. Time grows short. We will send a message to Hanat tonight to contact the Plin.” He turned to Tad. “You will go into the Tortured Land with Ket?”
“I came seeking a weapon against the Veil. If the answer lies in the Tortured Land, there is where I seek.”
This answer surprised Brother Alistair. “You would have gone alone?”
“Yes.”
Brother Alistair shook his head. “You amaze me, Tad de Silva. I begin to see what Hanat sensed in you.” He turned to the others and nodded his head, and then turned to face Tad. “We will discuss matters further. Feel free to roam the gardens and the grounds.”
Tad left slightly perplexed at what he had learned. The Ennead had been on Charybdis for hundreds of years, and yet Churum and Delphi itself were barely into an industrial age. Why were they withholding more rapid technological advances? The Plin had vast amounts of wisdom and knowledge, but the Ennead ignored them. Simios had warned of a war with Terrans and Saddir united against the other races. Was the Ennead fomenting tensions for their own agenda?
Secrets. Tad hated them but the world seemed built on them. Like grains of sand, each secret adhered to the next, slowly building the stone foundation of a civilization dependent on secrets. Could he trust the Ennead? He trusted Hanat though he knew as little about him as he did the Ennead. Perhaps that was enough reason to cooperate with them, at least until their goals became clearer.
The Bull’s Eye moon glowed overhead partially hidden by wispy clouds, its light tinted purple by the faint glow of Melaina. He inhaled the fresh air of the garden, the flowers and the fruit trees. Thankfully, there was no overlying scent of the abattoir only a short distance away. This may have been the main reason for the vegetation —a barrier against the fetid stink of butchered animals. He heard an occasional raised voice as his new friends discussed their next move. It was good to know that there was some dissention among them. It would make for a more carefully crafted plan of action. If anything he had heard about the Waste was true, they would need it.
A pale shadow moved beneath a tree. He peered more closely and saw that it was Lousa, sitting on a bench. He strolled over to her, scuffing his boots slightly as not to surprise her. She turned around quickly.
“Oh, it’s you.” She sounded neither pleased nor displeased.
“You were expecting another?”
She smiled. “No, I thought it might be my father wanting me to come back inside. It’s too nice a night.”
“Do the stars look the same on Scylla?”
She jerked her head at him. “You know?”
He nodded.
“Do you approve?”
He decided to be truthful. “I’m not sure yet. Time will tell.”
“Very wise. We do want to help you.”
Tad let a little of his sarcasm show in his voice. “But just enough to keep us on this planet, I see.”
“Your people are on the verge of a war. We fear you.”
Tad snapped at her. “How much of this dissention was sown by you for your purposes?” Seeing her eyes go round, he softened his voice. “I believe in your ultimate goal; I’m just not sure if my people will see all the benefits.”
“As you say, time will tell.”
He leaned against a fruit tree, looking up at the stars. “Are you prepared for our journey into the Tortured Land?”
“Our journey? You are accompanying us?”
Her surprise surprised him. “Yes.”
“No, you mustn’t.” She almost shouted her words. She rose from the bench and looked at him. “It is dangerous.”
“You’re going,” he countered.
She glanced away. “My father wishes it. I have no choice but to go.”
Anger colored his next words, not at her but at her father. “Your father is making you go into such a dangerous place? That is . . .” He searched for a word, “unconscionable.”
“I am Saddir and under the age of consent for marriage. I am honor bound to do as he wishes.”
“I will speak to him.”
She placed a hand on his. “No. Please. Do not anger him. I must go and if you are to go with us, it will be best if there is no animosity between you.”
“But …”
“I must go,” she repeated. “Perhaps it will not be as bad with you there to talk to. He would not allow it on the boat, but he cannot prevent it now,”
Tad smiled. “Yes, perhaps so. There is much I would like to know about you.” Did she blush? It was hard to tell in the wan light.
“I must go back inside before my father comes for me. Perhaps we can speak later.”
Tad watched her walk away, a pale fairy almost floating above the walkway. He hoped that she was not as delicate as she looked or the journey would be hard on her. He returned his gaze to the stars. Most of the constellations were familiar—the Plowman, the Huntress, the Fan Tree. Others, he knew, lay hidden below the horizon. It was only then that he realized how far from home he was—not just from Delphi, his home of half a year, but Casson, his home for sixteen years. He had not written his Uncle Wilbreth of his problems or of his exile. It had been over two months since his last letter. His uncle would be worried. He hoped that Askos would write to his uncle, explaining what had happened, perhaps leaving out the more troubling aspects of his expulsion from the city. He had no way to write from Fridan. He did not even know if a letter would reach his uncle from such an out-of-the-way outpost.
If the Ennead could communicate with Hanat, then they could communicate with Simios. He could ask Simios to deliver a message for him and at least relieve his uncle’s worst fears. He would ask Brother Alistair.
A monk he could not identify came to him. “A room is ready for you.”
He followed the monk to a small building away from the chapel along one of the compound’s walls. It was a windowless room, but the furnishings were comfortable. His pack was on the bed. Someone had fetched it from the inn. A yawn came unbidden to him and he suddenly realized just how tired he was. It had been a long and adventuresome day, also slightly disturbing. His perceptions of the world around him, even most of his long-held beliefs, were wrong. He lay down on the bed fully clothed pondering the implications of what he had learned and was soon asleep.
28
THE TORTURED LAND
FOR TWO DAYS, TAD ATTENDED LONG MEETINGS WITH KET AND Daret concerning their journey into the Tortured Land. He had similar meetings with Brother Alistair or, when he could, spoke with Lousa. She warmed to him somewhat, but still remained slightly aloof. He did know if this was her wish or her father’s. Brother Alistair seemed interested in every aspect of Tad’s life in Delphi, asking probing and sometimes personal questions, as he did one early morning as Tad breakfasted outdoors beneath the heavily laden branches of a peth tree. The small clusters of fruit were ripe and he had already eaten several. Brother Alistair walked up, plucked a peth from a limb, rubbed it on his robe to break it into its three sections, discarded the membrane holding them together, and bit deeply into one of the sections.
“Ah, very sweet,” the Abbott commented. “Do the rebels have enough power to overthrow the Regents?”
The abrupt shift in topics caught Tad off guard, perhaps the Abbott’s intention. “I don’t know,” Tad admitted, curious about the Abbott’s questions. “They seem content to simply cause controversy and to protest. Mostly they plot. They seem unorganized and willing to wait.”
The Abbott nodded, finished the first section of peth, and started on the second. “Yes, that is my thought also. I believe that the Regents use them as a foil in their grab for power.”
“Can you no
t do something?”
He sighed and sat beside Tad. He tossed the remaining section idly in his hand. “If we are unmasked as meddlers, your people, especially the other races, will take great umbrage. It could start the war we hope does not come. We have moved slowly for just such a reason. At long last, things have reached a point where we may recruit people, such as you, to our cause.” He smiled. “Your coming here has been a God send.”
This struck Tad as an odd statement. “You are a true religious order? This Monastery is not just a cover for your organization?”
Brother Alistair smiled. “We are a true religious order. True Catholicism did not die as readily on Scylla where mostly Terrans settled.” He bit into the last section of fruit. “As man moved deeper into space and did not find God, many lost their faith. Religions had to adapt or fail, the Catholic Church among them. Priests became explorers. We did not follow colonists; we arrived first and welcomed them. We feel we do God’s work. The Veil is evil personified. It has left its mark on this world. We hope to learn the face of this evil so that we may combat it. It does not recognize the cross or the gospels, but it must be a part of God’s universe, subject to His laws. We use the bible and physics, side-by-side, anything that can bring us greater understanding. If the Veil was, as some say, a punishment from God, then I say it was enough. I do not think He wants us to sit idly by and accept our fate or encourage it, as does the Blood Cabal.”
“Are they from Scylla?”
“No, they originate here on Charybdis but they have learned of our presence on your world and oppose us. They, too, remain in the shadows for now, but I feel not for much longer.”
“They grow bolder?” he asked; then, as realization struck, “The attacks on me?”
“Yes. Somehow, they learned of your uniqueness. They fear the Plin and figure if you are important to them then you are a threat to the Cabal. Your life was in grave danger in Delphi, where they operate unhindered, perhaps even here, but once in the Tortured Land, your danger lies in directions unknown to us. Even the Cabal, which worships the Veil, cannot sustain itself in those desolate lands.”
Ket had informed Tad that morning that the journey to the Waste would take two weeks or more. Since then, he had given it considerable thought. He bit into a biscuit filled with fried ham and asked, “Why not fly us there in one of your ships?” It seemed the logical way to save time and to avoid danger on the way.
Brother Alistair shook his head. “We have but two operational ships and it is dangerous to fly them within the boundaries of the Tortured Land or in the vicinity of the Skillar Mountains. Some force emanating from both areas interferes with the antigravity fields. It is for this reason that we hope to learn something significant from either place. The Tortured Land is closest and we have sent people there before.”
This surprised Tad. “Did they learn anything?”
Brother Alistair looked chagrined. His lips compressed into a thin line. “They did not return.”
“I see.”
“We hope that the devices Ket carries will allow you to sense danger and avoid it.”
Tad thought the best way to avoid danger was to stay away from the Waste altogether, but held his tongue. He was already committed to the venture and knew that Ket would go with or without him, taking Lousa with him. He hoped his newly awakening senses might prove useful in detecting danger.
Brother Alistair changed the subject. “Hanat has confirmed that Askos sent a letter to your uncle so that he need not worry unduly. Simios reminds you to remember your training and keep faith in yourself.”
Brother Alistair had revealed that the Ennead was in radio communication with Hanat and several others in Delphi. Tad smiled at the news from Simios. “He would.”
“The Plin are good people. We are pleased with this new alliance with them. I am glad that I followed your advice and sent Hanat to the Plin as a representative enlisting their cooperation. Since their goals are similar to ours, they agreed readily. In naming you their representative, they honor you.”
Tad wasn’t sure if he could shoulder the additional burden they had placed on his young shoulders. “Where do the Plin originate?”
Brother Alistair rubbed his jaw. “I have heard two stories. One says that they are from toward the Core and discovered the Dark and came to warn us. Another claims that they are a splinter group of Terrans, much like the Lilith, who chose to alter themselves to enhance latent powers they discovered in our species in order to combat the Veil. Perhaps the truth lies somewhere between the two, as do most truths.”
“They seem human enough,” Tad shot at him.
“Human? Who can say who is human? I believe that all races have souls and are therefore human. It is what we do with that humanity that counts.”
Talk of the Plin disturbed him. He decided to change the subject. “What of the Triocs?”
“Yes, a mystery. They are a true enigma. We know neither their minds nor their hearts. They bond for life as a triad and care for their young. That is gratifying, but does not prove intelligence.”
Tad made a face, remembering his encounters with Triocs. “I don’t trust them.”
Brother Alistair nodded. “Many do not. I would like to understand them better, but there is too much else to do. We are spread thin.”
“How many of you are there on Scylla?”
Brother Alistair paused a moment and looked away. “We are few. Less than five thousand of us remain both Terran and Saddir. We once numbered over two million. When we learned of the Veil, we built two Sanctuaries and held lotteries to determine who would enter. Only two hundred thousand were selected. This allowed more room for technology we wished to save. Disease killed all in one Sanctuary, or perhaps the fingers of the Veil touched them, but the technology survived. Nearly two million people gave their lives so that the survivors might rebuild our world after the Veil’s passing. Instead, our numbers have dwindled steadily. We have failed. It is a stain on their memory that we cannot scrub clean with all our future good deeds. That is one reason the Ennead came into being: to try to erase that stain. We have the technology we saved, but you have the population. Neither of us could survive long alone. Together, perhaps we stand a better chance.”
“Perhaps starting fresh after the Veil was the wiser course,” Tad mused of his own people.
“Perhaps. Even so, it will not save you from what is to come.”
❇ ❇ ❇
Tad went to the docks to see Captain Winset off on his return voyage. He did not divulge what he had learned from Brother Alistair, but he did tell him that he had agreed to accompany the Saddir into the Tortured Land that lay east of Fridan.
“That is not wise. I don’t trust them.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you’ve learned something I haven’t.”
Tad held his tongue. “We are headed in the same direction. It is better to pool resources. The Monastery is donating supplies for the journey.”
“Why? What do they receive in turn?”
“Knowledge. They are a learning order.”
The captain scratched his chin. “Hmm. They ask few questions around here for a learning order.”
“I’ll be wary,” Tad assured him.
The captain nodded. “Be so. I don’t trust them and the Waste is dangerous enough on its own. Why don’t you abandon this quest of yours and come back with me. I have a bad feeling about the Saddir and the Monastery. I’ve heard rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“Aye. Strange noises from behind their tall walls and smells like after a lightning strike. That, with the electrical equipment I found in the Saddir’s crates, makes me suspicious of their motives. No one knows where they came from or what they do.”
He looked at Tad as if waiting for an answer that Tad couldn’t give him.
“They are a religious order, I do know that. They seem harmless enough. I’ve met their Abbott, Brother Alistair. Accompanying them will save me money and the loneliness of the journey.”
“Sounds good, but keep my warning in mind.” The captain stretched. “I can’t sleep very well when my boat’s tied up here in Fridan. We head downriver tonight about midnight. Come along if you change your mind.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve made up my mind.”
He left the captain, keeping the captain’s warning in the back of his mind, and returned to the Monastery. He spotted Lousa strolling around the grounds. She waved and smiled. He went to her. She wore a soft pale green tunic over a short blue skirt, showing her long, supple legs. Her white hair was in a bun.
“We leave tomorrow,” she said. “Are you ready?”
“More than ready,” he replied. “I’m eager.”
She looked down at the ground. “I’m not. I’m frightened.”
“I’m sure your father will keep you out of danger.”
She glanced at him askew. “I wish I was as certain. My father often becomes absorbed with his studies, neglecting meals and his health. He becomes heedless of danger.”
“I’ll watch out for you,” he said before he could think about it.
She smiled. “Will you, Tad de Silva? Will you protect me?”
“If I can.”
“My surtha will be pleased.”
“Surtha? What is that?”
She looked away as if embarrassed. “My betrothed.”
Tad was flabbergasted. “Betrothed? You left the man you love behind on Scylla?”
She spun around. “Oh, no! We were betrothed as children. I have not seen him in many years. My father arranged the marriage with his family, but I do not love him.”
“That does not seem right.”
“No. I think so too, but I am of royal blood and must do as my father wishes.”
“You are Lousa of the lineage of Queen Lousas?”
“Yes, but we don’t have queens any more. It’s more a title of honor than anything else.”
Tad bowed. “Your Highness.”
She laughed. It was a sweet and musical, like birdsong. “Don’t tease me. I’m embarrassed by my title. You must continue to call me Lousa.”
