A generous covering of body hair made it hard to distinguish male from female, and the heights of the adults seemed much the same. There were children scattered through the procession. Some of the adults carried very basic hunting weapons, or a skin bag carrying something of value to its owner, but it was obvious they lived simple lives, a way of existence that was determined by nature.
The procession finally came to an end, and the haunting sound of the giants’ chanting faded into the distance. Mongo hurried to get a fire going, and the others spread out to get firewood.
Habid was stunned by what he had seen, and he knew the rest of the shuttle team would be equally excited by his report, when he got back to the clearing. Once the members of the hunting party had warmed themselves at the fire, and heated a little food that had been brought for the midday meal, they headed back toward the longhouse. It started as a cold journey, but they eventually left the area affected by the snow. When they arrived back at the longhouse clearing they found it untouched by the strange weather.
Sallyanne found the experience of becoming a ‘lentaru’, or storyteller among the longhouse people, more interesting than she had imagined. This was her main focus, now that Habid had brought back such an accurate description of the Sheomal.
She was describing what she was going through to a fascinated Roberto and Celia.
“Thank the gods of little mercies I didn’t have to become an elder,” she was saying. “They don’t talk much about it, but there is some real hardship, and a great deal of soul-searching, involved in that one.”
“And some giant-sized cheek welts, too,” said Roberto, mischievously.
“Yes, well, the less said about that side of things the better,” said Sallyanne.
“Hana helps me from time to time,” she continued, “but mostly I’m learning from K’duc Oybe, one of the tribe’s best storytellers from what I can make out.
“I cheat of course, recording everything and then studying the stories like mad in the evenings, but they still say I’m a very poor ‘lentaru’.”
Celia smiled. Storytellers in the prehistoric times before things were written down had to have the most retentive minds of the people in the tribe, and they were trained from a very young age. It was no wonder Sallyanne was struggling to measure up to the longhouse standards.
“Even when I get the words right they say I haven’t got the ‘intent’ of it right,” she said. “I have to catch the exact emotional relationship between the characters in the story, and then there is the matter of bringing out a moral to the tale, or a spiritual truth. How am I supposed to know all that stuff when it’s not explained to me!
“Arrrgh!” she growled, frustrated by the complexity of the task she had taken on.
Celia was quick to tell her she was doing a wonderful job, and the difficulties were only to be expected. Roberto surprised Celia by offering to rub Sallyanne’s shoulders to help with the tension, and then doing an excellent job of it. They could all see Sallyanne visibly relax.
Celia wondered if they had all been cooped up in the cramped confines of the shuttle for too long, and some sort of need to unwind was being created out of long hours and too few opportunities to relax. She smiled to herself. She was probably talking about herself more than the others.
Still, she couldn’t afford to let her team have some time off until they had the many mysteries of Orouth unravelled.
“Any mention of Maka’H’Rosh in the longhouse histories and legends yet?” she asked, as Sallyanne’s silence lengthened while Roberto worked diligently, finding knots of tension and soothing them away.
“Hmm,” said Sallyanne, almost asleep from the effect of Roberto’s industrious hands. “No, nothing about it yet. They know we’re interested in finding out more, because of your initial questioning of Hana, but I don’t want to ask them about Maka’H’Rosh directly. I think it would seem a false thing to them, to want to be a storyteller for any reason other than to be a storyteller, if you see what I mean.”
“Of course,” said Celia. She paused. “You handle the situation with the elders as you think best.”
It was, indeed, Sallyanne’s purity of intent the longhouse elders were assessing. When it was clear she had a genuine interest in the histories and traditions of the longhouse people – something she found easy to display after a lifetime as an alien sociologist on Earth – they were prepared to help her with her questions.
There was an initiation ceremony a few days later at the time of the full moon. It was an ornate affair in which new levels of understanding, and new skills, were confirmed among hunters, weavers, gatherers, growers of crops and elders alike.
A rather resplendent Sallyanne was present in a feather-covered cloak, and allowed to sit next to her mentor, K’duc Oybe. After the ceremony she was allowed to ask questions of the other storytellers, but she was still on probation, and expected to continue learning the longhouse stories.
A day later she was telling the others about Maka’H’Rosh.
“It’s more like a set of laws I had to learn, rather than a story of longhouse life with the usual morals embedded in it,” she said, watched by the researchers, the Hud pilots and the Mersa alike. They were all fascinated.
“If you can think of something like the ‘ten commandments’ of the Christian old testament, before the Unitarian World religion, you’ll have the right idea, she said.” The researchers nodded, while the Hud pilots and the Mersa looked perplexed.
“I mean there’s no story, just a set of rules, and the rules have to be learned by the storytellers, word for word, and in the right order.”
“That certainly doesn’t sound like the normal word-of-mouth traditions,” added Celia.
“The problem is,” said Sallyanne, “the ‘rules’ for the Maka’H’Rosh story don’t make much sense on their own. They’re a list of things to do, and I suppose we have to trust that in time they’ll lead us to something that does make sense.”
Celia nodded uncertainly.
“So where do we start?” said Andre eagerly.
“Er, here I think,” said Sallyanne. “With this one.”
Ten expectant faces circled her.
“Let the Pellukech guide you to the Lizard’s Head,” said Sallyanne, repeating the third of the commandments from the longhouse story about Maka’H’Rosh. She thought they had already met the requirements of the first two.
“The what?” said half a dozen voices at once.
“To where?” added Andre belatedly.
Sallyanne tried to explain. “Hana tells me there are another race of people in the desert, ‘Pellukech’ she calls them.”
“That’s impossible,” interrupted Andre. “There were no life signs in the desert when we scanned the planet for Jeneen’s survey, and we did several passes, covering the entire desert area.”
“Maybe,” said Sallyanne, “but Hana is quite clear she can arrange for us to meet the Pellukech. The two peoples trade several times a year, but it will be up to us to ask them about guiding us to the Lizard’s Head, whatever that is.”
“I don’t like the thought of deserts. Why don’t we just fly there,” said Andre. “I think we’ll find Maka’H’Rosh in the range of mountains in the northern hemisphere, and probably the biggest mountains at that.”
“I don’t think it’s going to work like that,” said Sallyanne. “We have to follow the rules, the ‘instruction manual’ if you like. This looks like it has been set up for us, and we have to do it right.”
Andre did not look convinced.
“It would take us months on foot to cross that desert,” he said with a snort.
“Did we find any Rothii technology in the scans, apart from the observation post?” said Jeneen, looking at Andre.
“We ran gravity pulses like we did at the Rothii home world,” she continued, “and there was no evidence of a Rothii archive. Whatever this Maka’H’Rosh is, it’s better hidden than anything on Ba’H’Roth. I think we have to do what
Sallyanne says.” She winked at Celia over Andre’s head.
Andre grumbled a bit more, but subsided when he could see the research team had been backed into a corner. They would have to do this according to the ‘rules’ hidden in the longhouse story, or not at all.
“I’ll arrange something with Hana,” said Celia, getting up. “The rest of you think of a way we can thank them for their hospitality, and show them we think of the longhouse people, the Kantari, as our friends.”
CHAPTER 16
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Celia had a tough time deciding who would go on the Pellukech expedition. Whoever it was, the shuttle would have to be left behind. She presumed the Pellukech were a nomadic tribe of the desert, and easily scared off. They wouldn’t have a longhouse the team could land the shuttle next to, and wait and see what happened.
Security was going to be the biggest problem, and in the end she started her list with Habid and Tanuk, one of his pilots. Sallyanne wasn’t as well trained for field work as the members of Celia’s research team, so she could stay back with the shuttle. The members of the expedition would set up live feeds for her to access, and her advice would always be just a commslink away.
Despite Jeneen’s earlier protestations that she never went anywhere interesting, she and Andre were the best technicians, and Celia needed them to stay with the shuttle in case something had to be rigged up in a hurry. They could also bring the shuttle in on a rescue mission if things went really badly. She would just have to break the news to Jeneen gently.
That left her and Roberto to lead the expedition. The two of them were, she had to admit, just about the ideal partnership. It was a pity he was so much younger than her, she thought idly, then squashed the thought quickly.
Mongo and two of his hunters led the way out of the longhouse clearing two days later. Habid and Tunak carried a mountain of useful gear with ease. Celia and Roberto carried enough personal stuff and camping gear to be independent of the Pellukech if necessary, but none of the research equipment.
The forest flowed by, and the first night was spent at the base of grey, granite-like fingers that reared up out of the forest floor to enclose them on three sides. The site was well used, a favourite with any Kantari that were travelling in this direction. Later Celia checked in with the shuttle, and the tests Andre ran on the communications links worked perfectly. Sallyanne reported that she was busy with her storytelling, and continuing to build up her sociological profile of the Kantari people.
The next day the forest trees started to change, becoming thinner, with less canopy, and conditions became drier underfoot. Shortly after a break at midday, there was a growing brightness in the forest ahead of them. When they got to it, Celia and Roberto stared in amazement at the transition from forest to desert. A wasteland of heat and glare appeared before them, and ran off in either direction along an almost perfectly straight line.
When the heat of the day had passed, Celia and Roberto joined Mongo at a cleared site in the middle of towering, cactus-like plants that forced their way out of fractured rock and drifts of rubble. A wooden frame – something like a large capital A – had been securely driven into the ground.
Mongo unrolled a large circle made up of animal hides. It was solidly stitched together from three separate pelts, and surrounded by a rope of plaited hide. He attached it within the wooden frame, his hunters helping, and then they drew the circle of hides tight. The hides quivered in the last of the day’s heat, the ropes straining to hold everything taut.
At the foot of the wooden frame, Mongo uncovered a thick, carved length of bone-like white wood. It had been buried in the ground in a hide bag. By the way the he lifted it, Celia could see that it was very heavy.
Mongo stood for a moment with his eyes closed, and his lips moving wordlessly. Perhaps it was a blessing, or a prayer for success, or a request for his ancestors to guide his actions. Sallyanne would have loved to question him about it, but now was not the time.
Then Mongo began to beat the length of wood against the circle of hides. Roberto was surprised at the low sound it made. He could feel each beat as a dull sensation in the pit of his stomach, and rolling through his body until it made his hands and feet tingle.
“This will summon the Pellukech?” he whispered to Celia, wondering how it would work.
“Sallyanne says they’ll come,” replied Celia in a low voice. “The elders have told her so.”
But we’ll still have to convince them to take us to the Lizard’s Head, whatever that is, though Celia to herself. And she knew that Roberto was thinking the very same thing.
“Elephants,” said Roberto. Celia raised an eyebrow.
“Elephants do this,” he continued. “Sub-audible rumbling. Carries forever, keeps them in touch with other elephants. Helps them on their long migrations, that sort of thing.”
“We’re calling desert people, not elephants,” said Celia, perfectly reasonably, “and I for one do not intend to do any migrating any time soon. Travelling to Orouth was quite far enough.”
He raised an eyebrow, his way of telling her she was letting it get personal, and she needed to forget her own issues and have a little lie down.
Celia kicked him behind one knee, which almost toppled him onto his side.
“Stop trying to make me laugh,” she hissed, though it felt good to let off steam when they were feeling so nervous.
The sun was setting when there was finally an answer to the message sent out by the makeshift drum. It started with a tiny clattering of dislodged stones, and then the scrabble of claws on rocks.
Mongo stiffened, and his hand took a firmer grip on the spear at his side. The other longhouse hunters spread out behind him, giving themselves room to move.
“Now this is something out of a really silly dream,” said Roberto quietly, as two spectral shapes materialised out of the cactus forest. The reality before him was more outlandish than anything he or Celia could have thought up.
Tall, vaguely horse-like creatures appeared out of the dusk before them. The reptilian nature of the beasts distracted Roberto from the strange figures that rode them. Then his mind suddenly made sense of what he was seeing, in terms he could understand.
“It’s stick men on camels – camels with scales,” he said, before he could stop himself.
Celia inhaled sharply beside him. She, too, was struggling with what she was seeing.
It turned out there were only two of the strange reptilian creatures, though that was quite enough. The extraordinarily thin riders dismounted, two from each beast, and stood beside their strange mounts.
The strange creatures seemed docile enough, and appeared to be fully domesticated. They obeyed their rider’s every command. Behind them came close to twenty more of the slightly built people, heavily wrapped against the desert sun. They towered over Celia, and seemed unnaturally thin – stick men indeed, as Roberto had said.
They must have adapted to desert conditions, reasoned Celia. Heat loss is less for a sphere, and greater for a long, thin shape. The thinner shape gave more surface area for an equivalent volume.
Mongo saluted the Pellukech, and then began to speak in their tongue. His voice sounded harsh as he spoke the short-syllabled, guttural desert language. One of the swathed figures answered him in turn, and Celia understood this was the Pellukech leader.
Celia managed to make out the word ‘Maka’H’Rosh’ in Mongo’s words. At the mention of the name the Pellukech chief stepped back, hissing between his teeth. He looked at the small party of people alien to his planet, and directed a short, hissing question at Celia.
Mongo stepped between them, and spoke again in the choppy desert language. His voice was harsher now, more insistent. The chief turned away from Mongo, and waved his arms in the air as he appeared to be talking to himself.
Then the chief turned to his ragged band, and waved them back into the cactus wasteland. They settled themselves down and prepared to wait. In the meantime Mongo and the chi
ef began a fierce debate. This erupted into a shouting match several times, with much shaking of fists.
Roberto turned to Celia, and blew out a long breath. This might take a while. Habid and Tunak had come up to stand beside them, their hands within easy reach of their concealed weapons.
“I think it’s settled,” said a relieved-looking Mongo after a particularly loud exchange of opinions. “The hakkim, or leader of this band, has agreed to take you to the Lizard’s Head.”
The Pellukech crowded round, some of them smiling shyly, and some of them touching the new arrival’s strange clothing. Celia made sure the various entry points on her light wraparound pack were tightly closed.
Mongo smiled encouragingly, though the hakkim continued to scowl, and looked as if he’d been forced to commit an unpardonable act by agreeing to help the foreigners.
As it began to get dark, the Pellukech set up a night-time camp, and Celia’s team followed suit.
Celia, speaking through Mongo, tried to get one of the Pellukech to wear a linguist earpiece. She would try to get a translation belt on one of them when they knew her better. But for now she would need some way to make herself understood when Mongo and the longhouse hunters left the next morning.
The desert chief wasn’t interested in what the foreign devils were saying, but then Mongo showed him the earpiece he wore. After that there was another round of spirited discussion among the Pellukech, with even more shouting than before, and this time considerable rattling of wooden spears against each other.
The hakkim finally roared for silence, and called over to where the two reptilian mounts were being settled down for the night. A small figure came shuffling over at his command, and Celia could see that this Pellukech was little more than a boy, and a rather diffident boy at that. The chief said something to him, and pushed him forward.
I see, said Celia to herself. The chief wants to try out this foreign witchcraft on someone who’s expendable. She tried not to let her feelings of disgust show.
Invardii Series Boxset Page 10
