This was a common enough name among islanders. In Galian lore, it was said to have belonged to the archangel who beseeched Gal to carry the Chosen Children from Erf to the new world. Yet Sanjay noticed that he didn’t mention a family name as well. “Sanjay Arkwright,” he replied, and gave a formal bow, clasping his fores together as he bent forward from his knees.
“I know.” When Nathan returned the bow, it was in a peculiar fashion: stiff-legged and from the waist, fores still hidden by his cloak. “I’ve been wanting to meet you every since your mother told me about you. In fact, you’re the very reason why we’re here.”
“I am?”
“We don’t have time to discuss this,” Aara said. “Calliope will be coming up soon. We need to be away before we can be spotted from town.” She pointed to the nearby boat. “Hurry, please.”
They followed her to the beach, where a man about Aara’s age was already raising the catamaran’s sail. As they walked toward the boat, Sanjay noticed that Nathan remained upright, apparently preferring to walk on his hinds even though the others dropped to all fours. His gait was also slow, as if each step was an effort. Was he crippled? Perhaps, but if so, why risk undertaking a sea journey?
He tried to put all this aside as he helped his mother and Aara stow the belly packs they’d brought with them, then helped the captain push the boat out into the water. He could now see the reason why the boat had been able to travel across the channel without being detected. Its wooden hull, mast, benches, and oars were painted black, and even the sails had been dyed the same way. Against the dark waters of the bay at night, the craft would have been very hard to spot.
He wondered if the inhabitants of Purgatory had ever crossed the channel before, using this very same boat. Perhaps. There were rumors that exiles had sometimes returned to Providence for one nefarious reason or another; every so often, a relative or close friend who’d been left behind had disappeared for no accountable reason. But maybe …
“All right, everyone settled in?” The captain, who’d given his name as Teri Collins, glanced around from his seat at the tiller. Sanjay and Kaile had taken seats amidships, while Aara and Nathan sat in the bow—Nathan awkwardly, hunched slightly forward with his hinds stretched out straight before him, still covered by the long folds of his cloak. “Very well, then,” he said as he used an oar to push away from the shore, “Sanjay, raise sail, please.”
Sanjay turned around to grasp the line dangling from the mast and pulled it down, unfurling the black sail. The tide was beginning to go out and the morning breeze was starting to come in; the sail bellowed outward and the boat quietly slipped away, its outrigger skimming the water surface.
“We need to be silent now,” Aara whispered, bending forward to speak to Sanjay and Kaile. “No talking, no movement, until we’re well past the reefs. Understood?”
Sanjay nodded, as did Kaile. It was still dark and Calliope hadn’t yet risen. If they were lucky, no one in Childstown would see a boat heading out into the bay. Nonetheless, he hoped that Johan was asleep in the tower.
As the boat entered the bay, though, and the town came within sight, no lights appeared within its windows, nor was there the gong of the warning bell. Childstown remained peaceful, unknowing of the intrusion which had happened during the night. Teri must have sailed these waters before, because he accurately steered the boat through the break in the reefs which lay a couple of kilms offshore. The hull sliced through the glowing nightjewels and scattered the curious knifefish who’d ventured close to the boat. High above, Gal observed their passage with an unblinking and omnipresent eye.
Looking up at her, Sanjay hoped that Gal would forgive her children for their transgressions. Providence had become a long, black shape gradually receding behind them, its inland mountain range rising as three low humps. He’d rarely before been this far out on the channel, and only then in the light of day. The sea was a dangerous place to be at night.
He prayed that the monarchs wouldn’t notice them.
His prayers went unanswered.
VI
“Monarch,” Teri said. “Off starboard bow.”
He spoke calmly, yet there was no missing the urgency of his tone. Sanjay turned to look. At first he saw nothing; the sea and the night both were still dark. Then, about three hundred rods from the boat, he caught sight of a dorsal fin, light grey and shaped like the tip of a knife, jutting upward from the dark water. It was running parallel to them, neither approaching nor moving away, as if the massive form to which it belonged was swimming along with the catamaran. Tracking, observing, waiting for the moment to strike.
To the east, the first scarlet haze of dawn had appeared upon the horizon, tinting the curled gauze of the high clouds with shades of orange and red. He’d hoped that, with the passing of night, the danger of being noticed by an ocean monarch would pass as well. But this one hadn’t yet descended to the channel’s lowest depths. It was still prowling the waters midway between Providence and Cape Exile in search of prey.
And now it had found them.
There was a harpoon lying on the deck at his hinds. Sanjay started to reach down to pick it up, but Teri shook his head. “No need,” he said, his fores steady on the tiller. “Just wait.” He glanced at Aara. “Move to the center of the boat, Aara. Everyone, hang on.”
Sanjay stared at him in disbelief. Surely he didn’t think they could possibly outrun a monarch? Many had tried to do this, but they’d only succeeded if they were already far enough away that it couldn’t catch up … and this one was pacing them. Their only hope of survival lay in using a harpoon against it when it attacked.
He began to reach for the harpoon again, but then his mother, who’d walked back from the bow, lay a fore against his wrist. “Just watch,” she said quietly. “The same thing happened to us on the way over.”
“A monarch attacked you last night?” He had trouble believing her. “How did…?”
“Wait and watch.” Aara smiled as she squatted across from him and Kaile, then nodded toward Nathan.
The stranger remained in the bow. Until then, Sanjay hadn’t taken much notice of the long object wrapped in waterproof bambu cloth that lay on the deck before him. Picking it up, Nathan removed the covering, revealing something of the likes Sanjay had never seen: a slender, rod-like thing, broad in the center but tapering to what appeared to be a hollow tube at one end, with a handle fitted with a small ring projecting from its lower side. Its surface gleamed dully in the wan light of the coming dawn, and Sanjay realized to his surprise that it was made entirely of metal: very rare, and almost never found in such a quantity.
“What is that?” Kaile asked.
No one answered her. Nathan rose from his bench and, hinds firmly planted against the gentle rocking of the boat, cradled the object in his fores. Turning away from them, he lowered his hood and pulled down his veil. Sanjay couldn’t see his face, though, only the short-cropped red hair on the back of his head.
“Coming at us!” Teri snapped.
Sanjay looked in the direction the captain pointed. The monarch had veered toward the catamaran, its fin creating a frothy furrow through the water. Fifty rods from the boat, the fin abruptly disappeared beneath the surface. Nathan knew that the monarch was diving in preparation for an attack, but even as he grabbed the harpoon and stood erect to do battle, he heard a faint, high-pitched whine from the object Nathan was holding. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the stranger had raised it level with his shoulders and appeared to be peering straight down the length of its tube.
Sanjay barely had time to wonder what Nathan was doing when the monarch breached the surface. A massive wall of flesh, grey on top and white across the bottom, the leviathan shot up from the water only a few rods from the starboard side. Large as the boat itself, its mouth was wide enough to swallow a human whole and lined with rows of serrated teeth. Sanjay caught a glimpse of black eyes, small yet malevolent, and with an angry scream he raised the harpoon in both fores …
It was as if a beam of starlight had erupted from the hollow end of Nathan’s object, a thin white ray which briefly and silently erased the darkness. It lanced straight into the underside of the monarch’s mouth, and for an instant Sanjay saw it reappear within the creature’s jaws. A smell like fish being broiled as the beam burned through the monarch’s head and a loud, agonized groan, then the monarch fell back into the water, making a tremendous splash that threw a wave over the side of the boat.
The monarch was still spasmodically flopping on the surface, its fins and tail thrashing back and forth, when Nathan pointed his weapon—for this was obviously what it was—at it again. Once more, the thin beam cut into the creature’s head, this time between the eyes. The monarch jerked and then became still, a dying mass floating on the water.
“A gift from Gal…” Kaile whispered.
“No.” For the first time since they’d left shore, Nathan spoke. “Not Gal. A plasma beam rifle.”
Sanjay hadn’t the slightest idea what he meant by this, but as Nathan turned to him, he suddenly didn’t care. Nathan’s cloak had fallen open, and now he could see the rest of the stranger’s body: forward-jointed legs and slender hinds, a waist that was a little thicker, a neck not as long as his own. The breeze caught the robe and pulled it back from the stranger’s shoulders, revealing long-fingered fores that lacked webbing between the digits.
But it was his face which startled Sanjay the most. Except for his red beard, the open nostrils of his nose, and eyes which possessed visible pupils, Nathan’s face was nearly the same as that of the Teacher.
Kaile whimpered, clutching Sanjay’s shoulder in fear. Sanjay stared at the apparition before them, not knowing what to say or do. When he glanced at Aara, though, he saw the calm and knowing smile on her face. She’d been aware of this all along.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“You won’t believe this—” Nathan stopped, then corrected himself “—but I hope you eventually will. Sanjay, I’m your cousin.”
VII
Nathan refused to say any more about himself for the rest of the journey across the channel. He spent the remaining hours sitting quietly in the bow, rifle propped up on his forward-jointed knees, an enigmatic smile on his face as he politely listened to the younger man prod him with questions. He finally raised a fore and shook his head.
“Enough,” he said. “You’re just going to have to wait until we reach shore. Once we’re there and we meet up with my friends…”
“There’s more of you?” Sanjay stared at him.
“… then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“So there’s other Teachers like you.” Kaile was no longer as fearful as she’d been, but she continued to hold tight to Sanjay’s fore.
A dry laugh. “I’m not a Teacher, and neither are they. We’re human, just like you … only a bit different, that’s all.”
“Then why do you look like…?”
“Be patient. All will be explained.” He then turned away and spoke no more. Sanjay looked at his mother, and Aara silently shook her head. She wouldn’t tell them anything either, nor would Teri. They would just have to wait.
Calliope came up a little while later, revealing the mainland before them. By the time the sun was high above the channel, they could clearly make out the black forests that lay beyond the coast, gradually rising to meet the inland mountain range known as the Great Wall. This was the most anyone could see of Cape Exile from Providence, and although it soon stretched across the visible horizon, Sanjay was surprised to see how much the eastern peninsula of Terra Minor resembled Providence. He’d been told since childhood that anyone who dared to approach Purgatory would hear the mournful cries of the banished, but instead the only sound that reached his ears were the screech of seabirds spiraling above the coastal shallows.
And once they were only a couple of kilms away, he saw more than that.
The white sand beach had just become visible when sails came into view, fishing boats plying the offshore waters. The men and women within them raised their fores in greeting as their catamaran sailed past, and Teri did the same in return.
“Wave back,” Aara quietly urged her son. “We’re among friends.”
Sanjay gave her a doubtful look, but did as he was told. He noticed that Nathan made no effort to hide his features or misshapen limbs. His hood remained lowered as he smiled at the fishermen, and although a couple of them stared at him, no one seemed surprised by his appearance, let alone regard him as an emissary of Gal. Indeed, they treated him as if he was what he’d claimed himself to be: just another person, just one who looked a bit different.
There was no settlement visible from the water, yet canoes and sailboats were lined up on the shore, with nearly as many people around them as there would be on the Providence waterfront. A couple of men waded out to meet their boat; they grasped its sides and pulled it the rest of the way onto the beach, and one of them helped Nathan climb out. As before, Sanjay noticed that Nathan walked with a stiff, almost arthritic gait. It occurred to him that the stranger not only wouldn’t walk on all fours, but in fact could not. He always stood on his hinds, and never used his fores for anything except grasping and holding objects. Yet it seemed as if there was a heavy load on his back, for he walked with a perpetual slump, shoulders hunched forward and head slightly bowed.
Aara caught him staring at Nathan, and walked around the beached catamaran to stand beside him. “He was born that way,” she murmured, “but he’s not a freak of nature. It’s not polite to stare.”
“He’s … not from here, is he?” he whispered, and Aara shook her head. “Then where is he from?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Come.”
With Kaile walking behind them, Aara led Sanjay from the beach. There were no structures on the shore, yet a trellis gate at the edge of the tree line marked the opening of a raised boardwalk leading into the woods. Nathan was already ahead of them; he’d just reached the gate when a bearded older man emerged from the boardwalk. He rose up on his hinds to greet Nathan; instead of the customary exchange of bows, they clasped each other’s right fore, a gesture Sanjay had never seen before. Then he turned to Aara, Sanjay, and Kaile.
“Aara … so glad to see that you’ve returned. Any trouble along the way?”
“Not at all.” Apparently Aara didn’t think that a close encounter with a monarch was worth mentioning. They exchanged bows, then she raised a fore to Sanjay and Kaile. “Let me introduce my son, Sanjay, and his betrothed, Kaile Otomo … it was necessary to bring her along, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll trust that it was.” A kindly smile. “No worries. I’m just happy you managed to get away safely.” The older man dropped to all fours to approach Sanjay and Kaile. “Welcome to First Town. I’m Benjam Hallahan, the mayor. Pleased to meet you both.”
“An honor to meet you.” Sanjay rose to offer a formal bow, as did Kaile. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand … where did you say we are?”
“First Town.” Benjam’s smile became an amused grin. “We don’t use the name Purgatory. In fact, it’s what this place was called before the Stormyarn. The Disciples…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say for the moment that most of what you were taught is wrong.”
Hearing this, Sanjay instinctively glanced about to see if anyone was listening. Aara noticed this and laughed. “Don’t worry, there are no Guardians here. No deacons, either. In fact, I don’t think you’ll find any Galians in First Town.”
“We have a shrine,” Benjam added, “but only a few people worship there. Mainly older folks who’ve come here from Providence as exiles and still have trouble accepting the truth.”
“What truth is that?” Kaile asked.
Benjam started to reply, then he paused to gaze over his shoulder at Nathan. The stranger shook his head, and the mayor looked back at her and Sanjay again. “That’s a question with a long and difficult answer,” he said, and his smile faded. “I’m afr
aid some of us have recently learned a few things we ourselves didn’t know before.” His eyes met Sanjay’s. “One of them involves you, my friend.”
“Me? How am I…?”
“Maybe we should find a place where we can speak a little more privately.” When he spoke, Nathan seemed a bit more weary than he’d been before they’d come ashore. “And more comfortably.”
“Of course. You must be exhausted.” Benjam went down on all fours to lead them toward the boardwalk. “This way, please.”
VIII
First Town was located deep in the forest, on a low plateau that had been cleared of the surrounding trees. When Sanjay reached the stairs leading to it at the end of the boardwalk, he was amazed by what the forest and adjacent marsh concealed from the channel. The settlement was larger than Childstown and, if anything, more prosperous. The houses and workshops were bigger, more solidly constructed; they had glazed windows and quite a few even had second floors, something he’d never seen before. Elevated aqueducts supplied the town with fresh water from mountain springs; he saw waterwheels turning millstones and lathes, and Benjam told him that a buried network of ceramic pipes fed water into individual homes and businesses. It was the last day of summer, but there seemed to be no anxious rush to prepare for the cold weeks ahead. Townspeople were calmly going about their daily affairs, and there seemed to be more shortage of children playing in the schoolyard.
He’d been expecting a crude camp filled with starving peasants mourning their banishment from Providence, not a content village inhabited by happy, well-fed people. There was a Galian shrine, just as Benjam said, but it was small and neglected. The genesis plant which grew beside it appeared to be regularly tended, but it wasn’t cordoned off by a ring of stones. One look at it, and it was clear that the Disciples had little or no authority here.
What was more surprising were a row of pens near the community gardens. Inside them were flocks of what appeared to be large, flightless birds, fat and white, which incessantly clucked and pecked at the soil. Never having seen the like before, Sanjay and Kaile stopped to stare at them, causing the others to come to a halt.
The Year's Best Science Fiction - Thirty-Third Annual Collection Page 53
