Oracle of Delphi

by James Gurley

  Tad said nothing, but looking around at his companions; he suspected that none of them were in any shape to continue so quickly. Large blisters on his feet split and bled as he pulled off his boots. Lousa looked worst of all of them. Her naturally albino Saddir complexion was now pasty beneath layers of dust and grime. Her long hair normally so neatly kept now hung in tangles. Ket seemed not to notice her disarray and lethargy. Even he moved slowly as he removed his pack. Of the four, only Daret seemed unaffected by their journey, dropping his pack and setting about starting a fire with what little dried wood and brush he had methodically picked up along the way.

  Daret spoke infrequently on the journey and said little even then, but unlike Ket, seemed less the scientist than warrior. Tad’s attempts at conversation with the taciturn Saddir had gotten him nowhere. Daret had replied to his questions with concise short answers that revealed little. Tad watched him build the fire and prepare the simple meal they would share. Daret’s movements were surprisingly precise and economical for a simple astrophysicist.

  “You were a warrior, weren’t you?” Tad asked.

  Daret looked up at him. His lack of expression was as thwarting as his simple answers. “I am no fighter,” he answered.

  “But you underwent training?” Tad pushed.

  “Life is training.”

  Tad was too tired for word games. Angrily, he asked, “If I attacked you now, could you defeat me?”

  Daret stared at him a moment, as if judging an opponent. “Yes,” he answered and went back to the meal. “If you use no Plin tricks,” he added.

  Satisfied that he had won at least one round, Tad sat back and tended to his feet. He rubbed a soothing ointment onto the blisters on his feet and shoulders, sighing as it eased the throbbing, ignoring the pungent smell. The balm did not extend to the deeper aches and pains. He eyed a small hole in the sole of his boot that had produced one agonizing blister. Reluctantly, he trimmed a strip of leather from the top of his boot and carefully used it to patch the hole. The hard ground was quickly wearing out his boots. He took pity on Lousa struggling to remove her pack and got up to help her, walking gingerly barefooted on the hard ground. She looked up at him almost pleading with her eyes. He slipped the pack from her back, revealing a bloody smear on her left shoulder. Freed of her heavy burden, she lay back on the ground and closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

  “The gravity on Charybdis is about ten percent higher than I am used to,” she gasped, “and there is less oxygen.”

  Tad hadn’t considered that. For every ten kilos she carried, it would feel as if she were carrying eleven. No wonder her shoulders were raw.

  “Here,” he said, “Let me fix that.”

  Lousa sat up and lowered her tunic. Tad carefully washed away the grime; then applied a thick layer of salve to a deep abrasion in her shoulder. She winced when he touched it.

  He stopped. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “Not much. I’m sorry. Continue.”

  Tad rubbed the ointment onto her shoulder, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin beneath his hand. She sighed as the salve began to ease the pain.

  “Your pack is uneven. Let me balance it.”

  She started to protest. “No, I can…”

  Tad ignored her and opened her pack, startled to find two large books and a heavy metal framed photograph of a Saddir male.

  “What’s this?” he asked gruffly.

  She looked sheepish as she explained. “They are books of my favorite poems and a picture of my betrothed.”

  “I thought you didn’t love him.”

  “I don’t, but my father insisted I carry his picture as a reminder.”

  Tad, in a fit of rage, took the frame and broke it on the ground. Peeling out the photograph, he tore off the head, discarded the rest, and handed it to her. “There! That’s enough to remember him by.” He took the two books and along with the frame and threw them over the cliff. Lousa watched, horrified as they disappeared. Tad’s voice rose in anger as he rebuked her. “What do you think you’re doing? Those two kilos could kill you, all for poems you know by heart and the face of a man you don’t love. This is no walk in the garden, Lousa. You could die here.”

  Angered by his outburst, he stalked away and sat on the edge of the cliff, watching the sky for some sign of the sun, either sun. He turned when he heard someone walk up behind him. It was Ket. Prepared for a fight, he was surprised when Ket spoke softly.

  “Thank you. I tried to tell her that her load was too large, but she would not listen. She has not been on Charybdis long enough to acclimate. I did tell her to bring Saken’s photograph, as she said, but suggested she leave the heavy frame behind, but it was a gift from her mother and she refused to part with it. What you did was harsh but necessary. As her father, I could not have done it, though I watched her struggle more each day. You are right, Tad de Silva. We are all tired. We will rest here until we are again fit to travel.”

  He left, leaving Tad dumfounded, mulling over the first kind words Ket had spoken to him since the beginning of their journey from the Monastery of St. Pieter. He was also ashamed. He had angered Lousa, probably broken her heart, but he knew, deep inside, that he had done the right thing. If only he could be certain he had done it in the right way and for the right reasons. His feelings toward Lousa, though not love, at least not in the way he felt for Sira, had grown stronger during their journey together. Being near the same age, they had naturally grown closer, but at times, he had noticed her staring at him with a strange smile on her face when she thought he was not looking. For his part, he could not help noticing her petite but well-proportioned body beneath her thin tunic, which seemed to mysteriously grow smaller as the heat increased, revealing even more of her cream-colored skin. Was he reading too much into a simple need to remain cool? He had certainly put a damper on their relationship by his outburst. He would be lucky if she spoke to him for the remainder of the trip.

  They ate a hot vegetable soup made partially of herbs and tubers Daret had collected along the way in the silence of the exhausted. The soup was too bitter for Tad’s taste, but a few drops of honey made it more palatable. Water was their biggest concern. They had found only one small pool of potable water since entering the broken lands and their canteens were nearly empty. They had enough water for one more day. Finding more water was a priority.

  After the meal, Daret banked the fire and cleaned the utensils. The three Saddir fell asleep quickly. Tad lay down in his bedroll, but could not sleep in spite of his exhaustion. His mind whirled with thoughts of the journey ahead and things he had left behind. What did he truly hope to find in the Tortured Land—a weapon with which to fight the Veil, the secret of its origin? He was out of his league. He knew nothing of science. He had naively hoped to find the answers to his questions waiting for him, lain out in an obvious manner in an easily accessible place. Slowly, he was beginning to understand life did not work that way. He wondered too if his quest for Simios, the High Gate of Tomorrows, now delayed because of his decision to aid Ket, was equally beyond him. Had he agreed to accompany Ket out of a desire for knowledge or simply to remain near Lousa? Were all his decisions so rash?

  Unable to sleep and too disgusted by his thoughts, he decided to explore the area while the others slept, hoping to at least find water. He had noticed earlier that a dry riverbed coursed through the chasm below them. If there was a season of rain, perhaps a trickle still ran into it, trapped and slowly percolating through layers of sediment. Though the sky was cloudy, just enough light filtered through from Cleodora and the Bulls Eye moon to keep him from stumbling into a ravine. Half a kilometer back along the trail, an old streambed sliced into the lip of the chasm. Following it, he discovered a series of dry, stair-step waterfalls descending to the bottom. From it led a narrow animal trail along a vertical cleft in the rock, clinging precariously to the cliff face. He explored it for a hundred meters before it twisted back upon itself, dropping a few meters and crossing the falls half
way down the cliff below his starting point. He followed it on his hands and knees. There, near the dry falls, he heard a small dripping sound—water. He fought to keep his excitement in check. Moving too quickly could prove fatal.

  A pool of clear water several meters across and a meter deep remained from the last rains, protected from the desiccating rays of the suns beneath a lip of overhanging rock. Cupping his hands in the cool water, he drank his fill. They could at last refill their canteens. As he sat on the ledge, a small break in the clouds allowed a needle-sized shaft of moonlight to peek through, pointing to the far cliff. Illuminated by the shaft of light was a continuation of the rough trail ascending the far wall. By estimating the angle of the moon, he determined that it lay in the direction they needed to travel. He rushed back to tell Ket, but found everyone sleeping soundly and decided to wait until morning. He returned to his bedroll, hoping for sleep. He had been lying there only a few minutes, when he heard a slight rustle. Opening his eyes, he saw Lousa leaning over him on her hands and knees.

  “Thank you, Tad,” she whispered and leaned down and kissed him on his lips hard and long. Surprised but pleased, he responded, but when he reached for her, she withdrew. “I cannot.”

  He watched confused as she quietly returned to her bedroll. Then, he saw Daret awake, looking at him glumly, but the reticent Saddir kept his silence.

  Morning brought a new sense of life to the camp when Tad informed them not only of his discovery of water, but also of locating a way down the cliff and up the other side, avoiding a long detour.

  “You are certain?” Ket asked. He sounded hopeful but cautious.

  “It looked climbable. I will try it first to see.”

  Daret surprised him by saying, “No, I will attempt it. I have climbed before.”

  “I’ve climbed a few mountains back home,” Tad insisted. He had not really lied, only exaggerated. He had climbed a few smaller mountains, but none as steep as the cliff face.

  “I will not allow it,” Daret insisted. “It is one of my skills.”

  Seeing Daret’s determination, Tad backed off. “Okay, you go first. We have some rope. I hope it is enough.”

  Ket spoke up. “We will rest this day for healing before making the attempt. We will eat a hearty meal and carry that much less weight up the cliff.” He looked pointedly at Lousa. “Even a few kilos can make a difference.”

  She blushed and smiled at Tad when Ket turned his head.

  The gray overcast had a bluish tinge, so Tad knew that Cleodora was up there somewhere behind the clouds. He hoped his quick fix on the moon was enough to set their course. He would hate to wander this endless plain until they ran out of supplies. True to Ket’s word, they did little that day but rest. Tad made a trip to the pool carrying everything that could hold water. With it, they laundered their filthy clothing and bathed as best they could. It felt good to be clean again and wearing clean clothing. Lousa volunteered to darn freshly laundered socks, and Tad watched her nimble fingers repair his severely worn pair. Her movements, like Daret’s, were practiced and precise. He felt a pang of sorrow as he remembered watching his sister Mariam sewing, sitting on the front porch of his uncle’s farm. She would probably have married by now. He tried to drive such memories from his head.

  Daret and Ket argued briefly, but Tad could not overhear their heated conversation. They seemed to argue more often, though Daret usually backed down. The trip was getting on everyone’s nerves, making them more irritable. Lousa came and sat with him. She wore only a thin undershirt and short pants, neither of which did much to cover her body. Tad noticed her nipples pressing into the thin material and the roundness of her small, pert breasts. He found it quite distracting and tried not to stare. She appeared not to notice his discomfort as she spoke of her home on Scylla.

  “Our home was on a high hill overlooking a river. In the spring, yellow and red flowers that seemed to flow in the gentle wind like rivers covered the hills; in the winter, a blanket of snow erased all the features, leaving a new land. In the winter, my mother…” She paused briefly. “My mother would make hot tea after our long walks. We would sit by the fire and sing songs. After she died, we never had hot tea again. I don’t know why.”

  In the silence, Tad spoke up. “My parents died when I was young. I barely remember them. I lived with my Uncle Wilbreth. My sister, really she was my cousin but I think of her as my sister, made hot coco in the winter. Sometimes she would put a stick of cinnamon in it.”

  Lousa looked at him. “So we are both orphans.”

  “But you have a father.”

  She glanced at Ket. “When my mother died, he buried himself in his work. I lived in a girls’ school and saw him only on holidays. This trip is the first time we have been together for more than a few days in years. I hardly know him. He is so … dedicated to his work.”

  Tad felt obliged to stick up for Ket, if only a little. “What he is doing is important.”

  “Sometimes I wonder just what it is he is doing. He looks forward to the Tortured Land.” She shuddered. “I do not.”

  “Nor do I,” Tad confessed. His earlier enthusiasm, or what had passed for it, had waned as the journey progressed. It wasn’t fear, though a heavy dose of fear could be a good thing in such an undertaking, but something, either his newly awakening senses or a dark premonition, told him that not all of them would return from the Waste. The Tortured Land would demand a sacrifice.

  She stared into his eyes. “Do you like me, Tad de Silva?”

  Tad fought back a quick ‘yes’. “I find you attractive, if that is your question. You are unlike most Terran women, but still desirable.”

  She smiled. “Good. I like you, too, but my father admonishes me not to grow too close to you.”

  Tad shrugged. “You are betrothed.”

  She shook her head. “No, it is more than that. He thinks that I am too good for you.”

  “Perhaps he is right. You are of royal blood.”

  She leaned closer to him, her breasts lightly touching his arm. “I am a woman and my blood runs hot. What do I care of a betrothed I do not know or love?”

  Tad’s heart began beating wildly. Her invitation was clear, but to accept it would drive a rift between him and her father and between father and daughter. “I’ve never … I am a virgin,” he stammered, feeling somewhat ashamed by his admission. “I do want you, but now is not the time and this is not the place.”

  She leaned away and smiled. “You are stronger than you look. Our time will come.”

  She said it as a promise. As she stood and walked away, he followed her movements with his eyes. He swallowed hard. She was desirable and she was here, available. Wasn’t that enough? What of Sira? He had now refused the advances of two women because of her memory. To whom was he being faithful, himself or her? His future was uncertain. He might never see Sira again. Should he deny a chance at happiness for a memory? He grabbed his temples to prevent his brain from exploding from his skull, noticed Daret’s cold stare, and smiled at him. The Saddir did not return his smile.

  They continued their journey at dawn the next morning. The clouds still dominated the sky, blanketing both suns. Tad lowered most of their supplies by rope down the cliff to a large ledge using a slipknot, silently thanking Hamish of the Holden’s Spur for teaching him. Tad insisted on leading the way, followed by Ket and Lousa, then Daret. They had tied themselves to one another by rope. It proved to be a fortuitous move when Ket slipped and slid a few meters down the cliff, almost dragging Lousa with him. Tad braced himself and held Ket’s weight as the rope dug deeply into his waist. Daret grabbed Lousa’s hand, pulled her back onto the path, and held her steady with his legs. Together, Tad and Daret held Ket until he could halt his descent.

  “Brace yourself with your foot,” Daret called down to him. “Then climb slowly, one hand and one foot gripping at all times.”

  “That’s it,” Tad called in encouragement as Ket shook off his fear and began to climb. Lousa hugged t
he rock with both eyes closed, refusing to follow her father’s progress until she felt the rope slacken between them as he climbed back up the steep slope. When Ket regained his footing, he eyed Tad sheepishly, and then nodded his head.

  “We must continue,” he said as he brushed himself off.

  Tad helped Lousa to her feet. Her eyes revealed her fear at her near death, but she did not voice it.

  At the pool, they drank their fill of water and refilled the canteens while Tad scanned the cliff for the safest route down. After a few meters, the trail widened enough to stand, but became much steeper. The path, which had looked dangerous but passable in the moonlight, appeared even more treacherous in the light of day. Tad hoped that he had not brought them false hope.

  “If we use the rope to drop to that ledge,” Daret pointed to an outcropping below them, “We can save a lot of time.”

  Tad nodded. Daret tied off the rope, securing it around a boulder, and then wrapped two turns around his waist. Tad volunteered to go first. He looked at Lousa and wondered if the fear in her eyes mirrored his. Halfway down, his lost his grip when a brittle rock outcropping crumbled beneath his feet. He slid a few meters, burning his hands as he fought to grasp the rope, until Ket managed to check his fall. Reaching the ledge, he positioned himself and held the rope for the others. Daret descended last, loosened the rope, and used it to lower their supplies to the chasm floor.

  The going became easier near the bottom and they suffered no further mishaps. Resting while Daret examined the far side of the chasm, Tad had the chance to speak with Lousa.

  “About the other night,” he began. “I need to know …” She looked at him and shook her head. “Not now, please. Later, when we have more time to talk.”

  He acquiesced. “All right.”

  Daret returned a short time later. “I found a safe way up. We will not need the rope.”

  Tad was relieved. He felt uncomfortable belayed to the others, knowing his mistake could cost them their lives. The ascent proved less strenuous than their descent. The trail followed a series of ledges until it reached the top. Daret pulled the bundle of supplies up behind them. At the top, on the opposite side of the chasm, Tad considered the effort that had gone into traveling a real distance of less than twenty meters.