Slowly he dropped to his knees, bracing himself heavily with his hands on the edges of the rock. He’d studied the glyphs as a child under his father’s tutelage in the Temple library. That had been when everyone expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps. But Gregor’d had higher ambitions and worked hard to rise above the boring position of librarian.
Still, the early lessons lingered. Then last year when Sissy had undertaken a scientific and historic examination of the funerary caves, she’d discovered whole murals recording early life on Harmony. Entire stories had been compacted into colored glyphs, piling numerous abstract ideas into one panel.
Here he faced more evidence that Harmonites had been the first humans, not that they’d come from the same roots as the CSS.
He traced first one pictograph and then another, the roughness of the surface chafing and sensitizing his fingertips. The rippling in the ground he’d felt earlier intensified through the rock into his hands, awakening new ideas, broadening his awareness of the entire camp while concentrating his vision on the array of dancing figures. Quickly he sensed that the story began bottom right and moved back and forth across the stone. That was different from modern writing, but not unheard of in ancient texts in forgotten languages.
He recognized perhaps one image in seven.
This writing was truly ancient, possibly predating the earliest records on Harmony.
This is the beginning place, the Goddess told him. This is where life begins.
His heart began beating rapidly. Blood pounded in his ears, and his skin grew clammy. He’d made possibly the greatest historical discovery of all time. Sanctuary was the home world of Harmony, not Earth. Harmony emerges only from Sanctuary. He had proof right here before his eyes. He had proof that humanity had split here, the higher beings going to Harmony, the disorganized cults wandering off to Earth and other places.
But why had they left? The planet was lush and the climate benign.
He leaned closer, trying to puzzle out the sections he did not recognize at first glance. His hands slid off the rock. Blindly he sought to brace himself on the ground.
“No, Laud Gregor! Don’t put your hand there!” Jake yelled.
Gregor looked up, confused. As he sought better balance his hand closed around the branch of a low shrub. It looked sturdy enough.
Sharp pain stabbed his palm and quickly shot upward to his eyes.
He looked down, surprised, as his focus narrowed and darkness crowded in from the edges. Blood welled up from the center of his palm and dripped copiously down his arm.
The scent of fresh mint grew stronger.
“Fascinating,” he murmured, unable to yank his gaze away from his own life draining out of him.
Welcome to my Sanctuary. Join me in peace. Let the end of your life become the beginning of another.
A blinding white light crowded out the red blood in the center of his vision. Blackest darkness surrounded it all. The outline of a female clad in brilliant white robes with green undertones blowing in a celestial wind walked out of the brightness. She caught his wilting body and cradled his suddenly heavy limbs against her.
Why have you rejected me so often and for so long?
“I have never rejected you, Harmony.” He didn’t know if he’d spoken or not. He couldn’t hear his words.
You sought power and control at the cost of other lives. You manipulated the Covenant for your own ends.
“I did what I thought best for all of Harmony—the mother planet and the six colonies.”
Was it best for Harmony, or best for Gregor?
Shame filled him. What had he done to offend the Gods? He couldn’t remember.
“Sissy? Should I have left her to die in the collapsing factory, or sent her to the asylum?”
Bringing Sissy to the people was the best thing you could have done for Harmony. For the galaxy. She has brought renewal to Our people.
Gregor found it hard to think. If he knew what he’d done to offend Harmony, he’d know how to atone.
For the gift of Sissy, We forgive you all. For bringing people back to this place, to the beginning place, we grant you blessing.
An amazing sense of peace filled Gregor’s straining heart. At last, he’d found Harmony within Sanctuary. He wanted nothing more than to join with Her, to share the overwhelming peace with Her. To become one with the planet, the home of humanity.
“Laud Gregor, wake up. I need you to stay awake until Doc Halliday gets here,” Jake ordered. He held Gregor’s wounded hand high, slowing the drip, drip, drip of blood.
“My blood must feed Sanctuary. You must let me join with Her.” He slurred his whisper, though the words sounded loud and clear in his mind.
“Don’t you dare die on me. Stay with me, Gregor. Stay awake. We’ll get you patched up and counter the allergic reaction with drugs. Just stay awake.”
“Bury me here. I have found Sanctuary.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
“Oxygen. Give him oxygen injections and vasodilator patches,” Doc Halliday ordered breathlessly over the comm. She sounded as if she were running.
She couldn’t get there fast enough for Jake.
He found the injection ampoules in the first aid kit and slapped two of them into Gregor’s chest directly above his heart. He put the patches on the inside of his unaffected wrist.
“What about the antihistamines? They worked for Sissy.” He debated applying one to the wound.
“I don’t know. His heart is so fragile that the shock may shut it down. I thought he was stronger. He acted a lot stronger than the tests indicated.” The doc’s words caught and faltered.
When she came back on-line, she sounded angry. “If he wasn’t getting better, then he was taking stimulants. Good lord, if he was taking stimulants, he was killing himself.”
“He’s got a heck of a lot of toxins pouring through him. Isn’t that more dangerous than the antidote?” Jake looked around for any sign of the physician. She should burst through the tree line at any moment according to his tracking system.
“Just give him more oxygen and keep him breathing until I can test his blood. And clean the wound. Gently. Is it still bleeding?”
“No. But the hand and arm are a swollen bloody mess. The High Priest of Harmony has lost a lot of blood.”
“Damn. Blood thinners. Check his blood pressure with the ultrasound.”
“One hundred over seventy, eighty over sixty. It’s plummeting.” Panic tightened Jake’s throat.
“Lay the wounded arm on the ground below his heart. The toxins will have to work harder to reach vital organs. It might give us a vital few minutes. Is there a vial of Oxydigitalin?”
“No.” Jake dumped the first aid bag and pawed through the drug kit.
“Get some from my bag. Inject it directly into the heart.”
“Um . . . I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’ve got to.”
“He’s looking mighty pale and clammy. I’ve got blue on the fingernails and around the lips,” Jake reported.
“Pulse?”
“Rapid and thready. Breathing very shallow.”
“Damnit all. Give him more oxygen. Then give him the Oxydigitalin. That should raise his blood pressure. You’ve got to keep him alive.”
Still no sign of the doctor and her party. Nor of Pammy and Lord Lukan. At least Telvino had the sense to keep one Military occupied readying the shelters, staying out of the way. The other Military men ran back and forth to the shuttle for Jake. One of them brought the doctor’s black bag. The injection pen of Oxydigitalin was empty, and there was no vial to refill it.
“Damnit, I know I put a full vial in before we left and added two replacements,” Doc Halliday cursed. Still too far away.
Not knowing what else to do, Jake got the Military to make a bed out of emergency blankets and roll Gregor onto it.
The High Priest groaned something about joining with the Goddess. The Military from Harmony paused long eno
ugh to make a circle of their thumbs and index fingers, with the rest of the hand splayed wide, the symbol of Harmony and the sun Empathy joining together.
“You aren’t going to the Goddess, Gregor. Not yet. Not on my watch.” Cursing Doc Halliday for taking so long, he slapped the antihistamine patch directly over the entry wound. “Sissy, forgive me if this is the wrong thing to do.”
Mac lifted Doc Halliday over a fallen tree trunk, then scrambled after her. She stumbled on the downside. Sensing the urgency in her instructions to Jake, he finally lifted her in his secondary arms and continued swinging through the dense forest with greater ease than she could manage on her shorter two legs.
“Can’t you go any faster?” Doc Halliday asked. “Gregor is dying.”
Behind him, Sissy and Adrial hurried in his wake. He didn’t like the wet, wheezy quality in Sissy’s breathing. It had no rhythm, a discordant resonance.
“I cannot carry you both at this speed,” he said before increasing his pace. “Adrial, help the Laudae. Make her slow down and breathe as deeply as possible.”
Then he dropped to six legs, keeping the physician elevated above the ground cover shrubs. His limbs shifted, grasped, and thrust aside all obstacles in a straight line toward base camp. Within a few steps he could no longer hear Sissy and Adrial thrashing behind him.
Worry ate away at his speed. He couldn’t abandon Sissy. He had to get Doc back with haste. Which was more important?
“She’ll be okay longer than Laud Gregor will. Get me within sight of camp. Then you can go back for her,” Doc said, as if she’d read his mind.
Decision made, he applied himself to moving as quickly as possible.
“You’re a good person,” Doc said, patting his chest when he finally deposited her at the edge of the meadow. “I can manage from here.”
Mac didn’t wait for further orders. He spun and dashed back the way he’d come.
Within the depths of the trees he lost all sense of direction. He had no familiar markings on metal ducts or the sound of the tram and lifts to orient himself. His path was obscured by the vibrant foliage that had sprung back. Sound seemed muffled by the soft, springy ground and creeping plants. He swiveled his ears, seeking a trace of Laudae Sissy and Adrial.
Avian and insect life-forms chirped and chattered randomly. Was there a pattern or intelligence behind any of the communications or only pure instinct?
Finally he caught a hint of a labored breath. And yes, there, a voice singing something soft and soothing. A chirpy voice full of clicks and whistles. It sounded almost Maril in nature.
Adrial. She sang a hymn of gentle praise for one of her Goddesses.
Mac raced up the nearest tree and bounded through the canopy much faster than he could run along the ground. A kilometer, maybe two, took him to a spot above the two women. He clambered down the trunk, letting the suckers on his primary fingertips use the rough bark for traction.
Sissy’s pale face scared him. Each of her breaths came shallowly. She winced in pain. The muscles in her throat bulged with tension.
He’d left her too long. The first person to ever show him consideration was dying before his eyes.
“Laudae Sissy, you can’t allow this Goddess to take you. I have so much more to learn from you. If you die now, I must return to the Law and allow them to take judgment against me. I must delay my enlightenment until my next life,” Adrial cried.
She choked out another stanza of the hymn of death and regret. It should be a joyful celebration that Sissy’s soul joined her ancestors. Instead, Adrial turned it into a dirge of regret for her own loss.
Mac rattling about in the branches above alerted her to his presence. She cursed when his movements broke her concentration and she forgot the next verse of the complicated hymn.
When he dropped in front of her, she faked a squeak of alarm and placed her hand over her chest as if to calm her racing heart. She always did this so that the Law would never know how observant and wary she truly was. The soft moss and spongy leaf litter absorbed the sound of his impact.
“I will take Laudae Sissy to Doc Halliday for help,” Mac said. “You must follow as quickly as possible.” He reached out a primary hand and stroked her hair with a finger.
“Not . . . Doc,” Sissy gasped. “Jake. You have to take me to Jake. He knows what . . .” The rest of the sentence got lost in her desperate search for air.
“I have to go, Adrial. Please follow and walk carefully.” Mac scooped up the High Priestess and took off.
Adrial struggled to her feet. “That’s not the right way, Mac,” she called after his retreating figure.
“It is. Consult the coordinates on your comm unit.” With that he hastened his pace beyond anything she could manage.
“The coordinates of technology do not reflect the path of enlightenment.” She quoted some long-dead mentor.
Mac had moved too far ahead to reply. Oh, well, she might as well go back to base camp. She’d learned what she needed to know about the inscriptions at the cave. This planet had been a spiritual home for the Maril, possibly the planet of their origin. More likely a place of retreat and meditation. One of many. For all their warlike tendencies, the Messengers of the Gods took great pride and comfort in their spirituality.
Or . . . Or . . . could it truly be one of the sacred ritual planets? She’d heard rumors that once upon a time the Maril considered the creation of a child the most blessed of all rituals, to be celebrated only in sacred caves on specially sanctified planets chosen by the Gods. Observed and carefully noted by priests and political leaders, augmented by incense and chants. Children born of such a conception became leaders both politically and spiritually.
Ordinary people took part in similar rituals closer to home in grand temples rather than within the womb of the Gods.
But the rituals had changed many generations ago, and the elite used the special temples now. Ordinary people went to neighborhood worship centers. The sanctuary planets for breeding and burial were all but forgotten.
Why?
Politics changed away from the need to improve the soul. Politics often got in the way of enlightenment, and their spiritual homes became too expensive, or made them think of the consequences of their actions. So they abandoned them, only to found new ones during a later administration. They eventually abandoned those, too.
Or, as happened on Harmony, the humans took over the planet, not knowing the meaning of the ritual caves. They tainted the entire planet with new rituals, new sacred spots.
She doubted the cave held any more information. The Maril had looted any books or scrolls long ago and housed them in libraries across the empire. She’d been to most of those.
The majority now lay in burned ruins useless to anyone else.
“On to the next teacher,” she sighed. “I’m sorry Sissy is dying. She had a lot more to teach me.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Jake took one look at Sissy’s limp form and cursed, long and loud. Telvino looked at him sharply. Doc Halliday raised her eyebrows then went back to whatever she needed to do to stabilize Laud Gregor.
Out of long habit Jake slapped the multitude of pockets in his old Harmony uniform, seeking an inhaler.
Ah! Tucked away in the calf pocket he encountered a hard lump. He fished out the inhaler he’d stashed there before he left Harmony. A quick check showed it still had a couple doses of medication. Out of date? Probably. Worth a try anyway.
Mac sank down onto his knees, still cradling Sissy against his body. He looked exhausted.
“I have to go back for Adrial,” he said quietly.
“Rest a moment.” Jake placed his hand heavily on the being’s shoulder. “I’ve got Sissy.”
Sitting cross-legged, he shifted her slight body to his own lap and shoved the inhaler between her bluing lips.
One shot.
He counted to sixty very slowly. His heart rose to his throat. “Harmony, don’t let me be too late,” he prayed.
&nb
sp; No change. Shallow breaths, arrhythmical. Out of tune with the rest of her body.
A second shot. He pressed down harder on the plunger than he should. The dosage level dropped by two.
He nearly choked, afraid he’d given her too much. A backlash might kill her faster than the alien pollens and dust.
“What’s wrong with her?” Doc Halliday asked, sparing them a glance from Gregor.
“She inhaled a hellish amount of dust and vaporized bio-plastic during a quake back on Harmony. The physicians implanted a charcoal filter to clear her lungs.”
Doc nodded in approval of the procedure. “Physician John replaced it this morning. It was clogged from your last trip here. Shouldn’t have filled up so quickly.”
“She used an inhaler a lot back on Harmony, mostly when under stress. I haven’t seen her use one since she got to FCC. This is an old one. Probably out of date.”
“No dust or pollen in the station’s artificial atmosphere,” Doc replied. She signaled the Military to help her get Gregor raised to a forty-five degree angle.
The High Priest still looked ghastly, gray skin, thin eyelids closed, but he breathed.
“Your new heart isn’t quite ready, My Laud,” she said. “But I’m willing to take a chance on transplant the moment we arrive back at the station. Better a premature heart than a dead one.”
In Jake’s arms Sissy shuddered and gasped. She took three long wheezing breaths. Her pulse beat visibly too fast in her neck.
Jake yanked his attention back to her. He didn’t really care if Gregor lived or died. But Sissy . . .
His Sissy . . .
“What’s the medicine?” Doc Halliday asked. She began looking at Sissy as much as she watched Gregor. That must mean Gregor was stabilizing.
“I don’t know. It’s from Harmony.” Jake shrugged.
Doc Halliday snapped her fingers and held her hand open. Jake tossed her the inhaler. She barely glanced at the label before nodding. “Best thing for her. Old-fashioned, but I can’t think of anything better.”
“A newer medicine might work better,” Telvino offered tentatively.
Enigma Page 33
