Dryland's End

by Felice Picano

  “Yes. Follow me!”

  He stopped midway between the observatory and the caves, close to the edge of the promontory.

  ’Dward exulted, “Look what a beautiful spot this is!”

  Ay’r had to admit it was. Three moons, quite close together now and already near zenith, lighted the centermost part of the sky above – as brightly as Pelagia’s sun – casting illumination over the ocean, and behind over the three peaks and all the landscape between. In this eerie white brightness, the observatory gleamed like a milky opal. Alas, the ground at their feet also glittered with dew – or more likely, with sea spray. Ay’r pointed out that they could only see the conjunction by looking almost straight up, and that the ground was wet.

  “The Recorder told me of these.” ’Dward waved Ay’r back a step, then reached down, searching for something in the ground. He cleared loose earth and weeds off what appeared to be a hand-sized ring and pulled it up. Something flat rose slowly out of the ground, a platform made of the same webbing as the ladder into the observatory, though wider and more tightly knitted. “When he was still an apprentice, the Recorder told me that he could observe only from here. It angles up, and in many directions,” ’Dward insisted, clearing its surface, “but we’ll leave it like this.”

  They lay down next to each other on the surprisingly dry, comfortably webbed platform. From this position, they not only could look directly up but also were shielded from the light, constant ocean breeze from the cliff edge.

  “Look!” Ay’r pointed out how Filoscop, the most distant of the four moons, was already beginning to slide behind Jatoto. “It should fit directly behind, so it will no longer be visible.”

  “You know, Ay’r,” ’Dward said, taking one of his hands in his own, “if you hadn’t come here, I would still be in Monosilla Valley. And I would not be seeing this wonder which happens only once. But instead probably hiding indoors with my head covered over, like the Mycophages.”

  “I’m not so certain. You’ve always been curious,” Ay’r said.

  “Curious, yes, but not ... well, not as bold as I’ve become.”

  “‘Bold feats’!” Ay’r repeated what the infant Monosilla Truth-Sayer had predicted for ’Dward.

  “And bolder ones to come, I promise you. You know, Ay’r,” ’Dward went on, “if we hadn’t visited the Truth-Sayer, or if he hadn’t told us Ib’rs to join our fates to yours, even if my father and Oudma hadn’t come with you, I still would have.”

  “Oh? How?”

  “You still would have needed a Colley. And someone to rein it.”

  “We could have managed.”

  “Even the great drop of the falls?” ’Dward asked.

  “No, you’re right. You would have come along,” Ay’r admitted.

  “So, from the moment you arrived, we have been fated. Fated friends!” ’Dward said with certainty. “We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Ay’r?”

  Ay’r was about to say that, even in his own short life, always was a long time, but he was interrupted by ’Dward. “I’m coming with you, Ay’r, wherever you’re going to from Dryland.”

  “Truly?”

  “We can’t stay here. You heard what will happen. You must take us, now.” And while Ay’r was admitting the truth of this, ’Dward went on, “You know, Ay’r, I should be terribly sad about what will happen to Dryland, but I’m not. I think that’s because I know wherever I go with you, I will be safe, and happy – with my fated friend.”

  Ay’r looked away, up at the meridian. “Here comes Capin approaching the other three moons. It’s much bigger, but also much closer to Dryland. That’s why it looks bigger.”

  “P’al explained it all to me,” ’Dward said indifferently. “It was an easy concept to grasp. I had known that Dryland was a sphere, like the spores off the fungi trees. Ay’r,” he began in a different tone, “since we are fated friends, why is it that you’re so reluctant to show me your love?”

  “I am?”

  “P’al told me that where you come from, males show their affection openly. And while it is not done openly on Dryland, it is still done, in private.”

  “Now Filoscop is almost completely behind Jatoto,” Ay’r said. “Look how it leaves an aura around itself, so that even though it’s hidden, it’s still visible.”

  “We’re alone now, Ay’r. No need to fear for my reputation.”

  “See, ’Dward, how spotted Trilufu is moving in front of Jatoto. Soon it will cover its face.”

  “Now would be the time for you to show your affection, Ay’r ... if you have any.”

  “Of course I do, ’Dward.”

  “I wondered. I know you spend much time with Oudma, and she is my sister and beautiful. Still, as a youth, I’m beautiful, too. I know that because in Bogland they told me so.”

  Ay’r turned to face him. ’Dward was perfectly illumined in the combined light of the four moons, his features straight and manly, his pale eyes dark against the new effulgence of his lunar-lit skin. Yet he was as inviting as any female or pampered gyno Ay’r had ever seen.

  “How am I to show equal affection to both you and your sister?”

  “You and I are together now. Show it to me now.”

  “’Dward, I’m not sure you understand all our ways. Or all the complications possible.”

  “P’al told me males mate with both genders and have amours with both. Even at the same time.”

  “Yes, but ...” ’Dward was a manly youth, Ay’r thought, straight-featured with the proper hardness and softness upon his face and chest and arms. Not a half female, as P’al said he might be. What harm could there be? Ay’r thought how delicious it would be with ’Dward, already half knowing this face and body, his way of thinking and reacting, from experiences with Oudma, and yet how surprising would be the differences!

  “I promised your sister I wouldn’t,” Ay’r said lamely. “And ’Harles! What will he think of us who have come to him as guests?”

  “That’s not a real reason. He accepted your interest in Oudma.”

  “Yes, but only under certain circumstances,” Ay’r hedged. “You noticed she didn’t announce our bonding at the Great Temple.”

  “Because she is unsure of you,” ’Dward argued. “Of your affection, of your commitment, of whether you’ll remain here. These are all important matters to a young woman. None of them are a concern with me.”

  “But they might become so,” Ay’r said. “This is all new to you, ’Dward.”

  “That’s why I don’t understand why you won’t...” ’Dward’s frustration was obvious in his voice.

  ’Dward had pulled down his tunic, and Ay’r thought how it would be kissing his baby-skin throat and moon-bright shoulders and chest down to his navel, feeling the youth’s arms surrounding him, feeling him straining beneath his short trousers, the strength in his thighs and the roundness of his buttocks. It had been a long time since Ay’r had bedded a youth, but he was here on a mission for the Matriarch, and as a Species Ethnologist the rules for his behavior were clear: Ay’r might form a temporary affectional bond with a Pelagian, but only within the social mores of Drylander society.

  He was already having a difficult time with the “acceptable” relationship with Oudma. If it weren’t for her own intelligence and sensitivity, her intuition into his restraints with her – if not their precise cause – Ay’r might have been trapped by her into an official bonding. The others were no help. Alli Clark must know about Ay’r and Oudma, but so far she had kept quiet about it, perhaps too distracted by all she had experienced and seen since awakened from the Arach’s induced trance. Perhaps even a bit more distracted by ’Harles’s courting. For all Ay’r knew, Alli Clark also knew the rules under which Ay’r might form a relationship, and was waiting, watching for him to step over the bounds. As for P’al, he certainly knew and although he was his usual indifferent self about it all, Ay’r sensed how useful that was for hiding a possibly mocking amusement at the fix Ay’r had gotten himself i
nto. No, it was an impossible situation already, barely manageable. Giving in to ’Dward’s drive to experience everything would only complicate it beyond control.

  “Just think, Ay’r. You would be my first lover.”

  “Gratitude for that honor.” Ay’r hoped words would convey what actions couldn’t. Sensing ’Dward’s disappointment, he lay back and looked up.

  An amazing sight greeted him.

  “Look, ’Dward! Look up!”

  Directly above them, bright white, gibbous Capin was just now gliding into place in front of the other three moons. For an instant, the night was slightly dimmer as the disk of Trilufu and the corona of the two moons behind were eclipsed momentarily. Then Capin fitted into place perfectly, and a new corona burst out, seemingly behind it and in front of it and all around its disk – an effect of reflection from the heavy hydrogen ice ring all around Pelagia and its sun and moons, Ay’r supposed. The four conjoined moons cast a new light, brighter than that of Pelagia’s single sun at noontime, so that everything around them, ocean and sand, hill and rock, and every millimeter of ’Dward’s face when Ay’r glanced at it, glowed with a precise and elaborate intensity as though illumined from within. ’Dward’s eyes glittered with the fires within the depths of a blue star. And now the specialness of the night, the light, their position upon the webbed platform at the edge of the promontory – all of it seemed so singular, so utterly unrepeatable that Ay’r turned and kissed ’Dward’s cheek, surprising the youth.

  “Let that bond our friendship,” Ay’r said. “Don’t look so sad!”

  “I was thinking, for the first time in my life, I wish I were a female like Oudma. If I were a female, then proof of your affection might already exist within me.”

  His words chilled Ay’r, suggesting how determined ’Dward seemed, and how disappointed he was.

  After a few minutes, he suggested they return indoors.

  Inside the observatory, the others sat around the chair of the Recorder. All were silent.

  Oudma immediately made a space for Ay’r near herself and took his hand in her own. She looked over at ’Dward, then closely at Ay’r.

  “We were watching it from the cliff edge,” Ay’r explained quietly. “It’s a magnificent sight.”

  “A terrible beauty is born,” P’al quoted an old Metro.-Terran poet.

  Oudma accepted Ay’r’s word, and held on to him lightly the rest of that night.

  “We’re going with you,” ’Harles Ib’r said.

  “I’m not sure that’s either possible or advisable,” Alli Clark said quietly.

  “You heard what the Truth-Sayer told us. We must go with you,” ’Harles repeated.

  “That all might have been so, when we were down in Dryland. Now we’re leaving the places you’re familiar with. Going to ... well, we don’t know exactly where we’re going.”

  “The Truth-Sayer said we must travel with Ay’r to the end, wherever that takes us. He made no distinctions between places.”

  “The Truth-Sayer couldn’t possibly have known how our situation would develop,” Alli Clark argued.

  ’Harles Ib’r held his ground: “The Truth-Sayer knows all!”

  “Many of the Truth-Sayer’s predictions have already come to pass,” ’Dward joined in. “Our finding of you sleeping. My bold feat.”

  “None of it that extraordinary,” Alli Clark scoffed.

  Ay’r spoke up. “They’re right, though. They’ve come this far. They might as well join us to the end.”

  P’al now joined in on Alli Clark’s side. “It might be very dangerous, especially for them.”

  “We fear no dangers,” ’Dward said stoutly.

  “And,” Ay’r decided to add his half credit to the argument, “the Truth-Sayer did make one prediction I find to be quite extraordinary.”

  “Oh? Which one?” P’al asked.

  “May I remind you that he emphasized that I should remember him when all was wet? He was predicting the catastrophe to come, which we didn’t even know about at the time.”

  “Infants are always wet,” P’al said, but his witticism not only fell flat, it also wasn’t enough to convince the others. “Besides, I’m not certain that your judgment, Ay’r, is completely without bias. Due to your companionship, you would naturally wish –”

  “To protect Oudma and ’Dward,” Ay’r interrupted. “Which is hardly what I’m doing if they come along.”

  “But it’s not their concern!” P’al tried one last maneuver.

  ’Harles was astonished. “My son ’Nton isn’t my concern?”

  “They’re coming with us,” Alli Clark suddenly said in that Matriarchal tone of command Ay’r had grown familiar with, but which he hadn’t heard in its pure form from her since they had left the Fast.

  P’al turned to Alli Clark. “What about transport? We can’t afford to spend weeks on Colleys’ backs.”

  She admitted that he was right. “We’ll take T-pods.”

  “Six of them? Three piloted by ... Well?” P’al turned to Oudma. “Do you even understand what T-pods are?”

  “Of course. Ay’r told me. They fly above the land. Above the canopy. We ride inside them.”

  “It’s how the Gods come and go so rapidly,” ’Dward added.

  “And, Oudma, aren’t you even a little afraid to be flying up there?” P’al asked. “With no Colley, with no solid ground beneath you?”

  She reached for her father’s arm, but contradicted her frightened reaction by stating boldly, “I will go wherever you go.”

  “Remember we are Ib’r,” ’Dward said. “Ib’r are pioneers. We lead the folk. Ib’r have always led.”

  “Anyway, the Fast must have larger pods than singles on board,” Alli Clark said, being practical.

  “How do you plan to call the Fast?” P’al asked.

  “The same way you do each night,” she replied. “Go on. Call it!”

  P’al remained unfazed. “Recall, Mer Clark, that the Fast is authorized only to send down one single pod for each of us three. And only at night.”

  “How do you call it?” ’Dward asked, ever curious.

  Ay’r lifted his arm and pulled back the tiny disc of skin on his wrist.

  “What is it?” ’Dward peered at the alloy.

  “A wrist connection,” Ay’r said. “We are born with them.”

  “How would I get one?” the youth asked.

  “You might have one surgically embedded.”

  “They’re for interaction with mechanisms,” Alli Clark explained.

  “They’re a combination of Plastro circuits with a minuscule isotope of Beryllium to power it,” Ay’r explained further. “Very simple. And useful.”

  “Except,” P’al reminded them, “that we preprogrammed the Fast to respond to our call for a T-pod only at nightfall.”

  “We’re not traveling at night,” Alli Clark insisted. “It will be difficult enough finding what we’re looking for by daylight.”

  “I have an idea how to call the Fast,” Ay’r said. “The Cyber on the Recorder’s chair intercepts radio signal noise. He complained about it. It shouldn’t be too difficult to utilize the parts of his receiver as a transmitter and contact the Fast that way.”

  “Go,” Alli commanded P’al. “Do it!”

  Given the natural “crystal” of the observatory itself, transmission and amplification proved to be as simple as Ay’r thought they would. Within minutes, the Fast’s mind was speaking to them.

  “Who is that?” Oudma asked.

  “A companion on their airship,” ’Dward explained smugly, pointing up.

  “Not quite,” Ay’r said. “It’s the ship itself. Like the Voice and Eyes, it’s an intelligent mechanism.”

  Alli Clark had taken over the communication from P’al and now she was arguing, “Well, if that’s really all you have, then send us the small shuttle and a double pod.”

  “Why two?” P’al asked. “The shuttle seats six.”

  “Should we ha
ve another encounter with those trigger-happy Gods, I’d like us to be separate so we can act as backup for each other.”

  “Good thinking,” Ay’r said. “I’ll pilot the smaller pod.”

  “And Fast,” she went on, “we believe we’re looking for a settlement of some sort. It ought to be far advanced for this world. Look for signs of radiation leakage or even a shield. Far east of continental Pelagia. Perhaps somewhere in that large swampy area. Or in those chains of islands we saw before. Report anything at all unusual you come across. Send optical scouts if you need to.”

  ’Harles was staring at Alli. Suddenly she caught his glance. “I’m going to be in charge of this little expedition. If you object, you can remain here.”

  “It’s all right with me,” ’Harles replied confidently. “But remember, she who chooses to lead also chooses to take responsibility for those she leads.”

  That seemed to stop her for a second. “I’ve taken such responsibility before. Or aren’t you used to strong women here on Dryland?”

  “All Ib’r women are strong,” 'Harles commented enigmatically. That seemed to satisfy Alli Clark.

  Not long afterward, the Fast reported that it possessed three possible locations to be visited: one in the swampland, two in the archipelago. All three would be previsited by optical scouts, and all reports would be updated to the shuttle and pod, which ought to be alighting near them at that moment.

  “I see them!” Oudma cried, her sharp eyesight picking them out among the high grass on a far cliff.

  The six travelers said farewell to the Recorder and to the Mycophages. Oo-lol-oo and his friends promised to feed and care for the three Colleys until the Ib’rs returned.

  Ay’r was sure that, despite its transparency, the shuttle, with its six seats and size, would calm Oudma’s fear about flying. But when ’Dward asked, “May I go with you?” pointing to the smaller T-pod, to all of their surprise, Oudma also asked to join them.

  For a moment, Ay’r wondered why. Had Oudma found out from ’Dward what had almost happened the night before? Was that why she didn’t want the two of them alone together?

  Equally surprising, Alli Clark approved. “C’mon! Get in,” Ay’r said, secretly pleased that the two Drylanders would be where Ay’r could see their reactions to this new and doubtless exciting experience.