by Andrew Elgin
If there was tension the previous night, it ratcheted higher as they passed between the low hills and entered into the small valley. The blackeye plants, many twice as tall as Javin, swayed slowly in the breeze ahead of them. But the visually striking picture they posed did nothing to diminish the growing nervousness which gradually gave way to something like irritation and frustration; unease.
They had to pass through a veritable forest of the tall plants, the view ahead blocked by the thick stems and large, yellow-tinged leaves. Finally, rounding a bend, they saw the first of the buildings which made up the tiny village.
At first, they looked just the same as buildings he had seen in other places; hardly a straight wall, roofs at various angles and a blending between the earth and the house which made it hard to know where one ended and the other began.
But then he noticed that there was no smell or sign of smoke. Not one house had a fire going as far as he could tell. And by now, Javin knew how much a part of life here a fire was. A fire was needed not just to cook a meal, but to smoke meat, to keep water warm, for all the small jobs needing doing in and around the house. And letting one go out was a sign you were lazy or incompetent. Starting a fire, he knew from experience, was harder than keeping one smoldering. If there was an obvious sign of something wrong, this was it.
All three were on edge, and becoming more so, the closer they got to the heart of Blackeye. Finally, Torrint hauled them to a stop by the side of one house where the door hung raggedly and weeds were beginning to gain a foothold inside. Kesit and Kasser made their unease known by stamping and by tossing their heads, although whether they were only reflecting back to the people what they were radiating, or it was their own sensibilities they were voicing, was hard to tell.
Torrint lips were thin lines, tension showing in his jaw, as he looked around.
"Can you see what is wrong here?" Javin asked.
Torrint snapped his head round to look at Javin, something like fear in his eyes. "I do not want to look. Not like that. I'd rather see with my own eyes than try 'seeing' that way."
Javin jumped down and turned to find Banith walking up to the wagon, shaking his head.
"This is all wrong. All wrong." Looking up to Torrint he added, "I'll go that way," pointing ahead. "Why don't you and Javin take a path each and we meet back here as soon as possible?"
Torrint nodded and climbed down. "Keep the beasts harnessed. Let 'em drink if they want, but I want to be ready to go." He stalked off to the right in his long, loose-limbed style.
Javin nodded after him and put a bucket beneath each beast before setting off down a path to his left. He didn't know what to expect or what to think. He could see that there had been no obvious activity for a while, but for how long, he could not tell. Plants were growing into windows, doors were moving slackly in what small breeze there was, the one house he went into, the hearth was cold. There didn't seem to be any obvious disturbance. No furniture overturned, nothing to show any violence.
Past the last house, the view opened up a little and there was nothing else that he could see to investigate. He turned to retrace his steps and heard Banith calling. There was something in his voice which made Javin run as fast as he could, at the same time as being aware that he didn't want to arrive.
At the wagons, he turned to follow the route Banith had taken and met with Torrint at the same time. His face reflected Javin's fears and they both hurried on.
Rounding the last wall of the last house, they found themselves facing a slightly larger building, possibly a barn or a workspace. Banith was sitting slumped on the ground to the side of the large open door. At first, Javin wondered if he was injured. But when Banith looked up, his face told him that it was not so.
"In there," Banith motioned with his head, his voice empty. "They are in there. All of them."
Javin and Torrint exchanged looks. Taking a deep breath, Javin entered, aware of Torrint close behind. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside. He didn't know what he was looking for until he felt Torrint nudge him hard and point near his feet.
Javin gasped as he understood what Torrint had indicated. There, strewn across the floor as if they were old toys, lay the bodies of the villagers. They had been there long enough to have become dried husks in clothing which was falling apart. They were seemingly tumbled together, a random collection of arms and legs. Hair moved gently in the light breeze. Javin saw, just before he catapulted backwards through the door, that some of the hands and feet lacked fingers and toes. The bodies had been gnawed on, even those of the children.
He gasped for air at the same time as trying to retch. Tears poured down his face, but he wasn't aware he was crying. He did not know how to think, let alone what to think. To come upon such a scene with no warning, nothing, made it harder somehow.
Torrint came out a moment later, his eyes wet, his mouth a thin, tight line. He stood and took several slow deep breaths, looking up at the sky as if for some understanding.
"We should go," he said.
Javin didn't believe his ears. "Go? How can we go? We don't know what happened here! We can't leave them!"
Torrint turned his fear and anger on Javin. "Yes? So we should bury them? Dig their graves? What can we do here? Nothing!" He made slashing motions with his hands. "It has happened. It is ended. We can do nothing for them. Don't you understand that?" He leaned in at Javin, breathing hard as if he wanted to strike him down, do something to vent the pressure in him.
Javin did not back away. "I understand they are dead. Every single one of them! Even the children. And you want to run? How do we know that it wasn't some disease which killed them? Maybe we're already infected. Maybe we're going to die like them. We run away, we maybe take it with us." Javin was trying to get his head working again. "I don't know what to do, but we need to find out, don't we? We can't just run and leave them. I can't do that. I can't."
"Harmony would not do that." Torrint sounded so certain. "She would not kill them with a disease. And if it was a disease, She would make sure that it killed only these. She would not let it spread. That is not Her way."
Javin threw his hands up in despair. "Not Her way? You don't know that! You're trying to make yourself feel better about leaving! Harmony? The damned planet? She is responsible? Is that what you're saying? That the planet," here he stamped his foot, "this planet actually killed them and that's just fine by you? Are you seriously saying that is how it is?"
Torrint made as if to brush Javin's words out of the air. "You are new here. You don't know Harmony. You cannot even hear Her. You have no connection with Her. You have no right to speak, because you don't know anything."
"I know what is right and I know that leaving here without doing something is wrong. Banith? You agree with me, don't you? We have to do something."
Banish was still seated on the floor. He shook his head slowly, his voice low and desolate. "I don't know. Whatever it was happened some time ago. It affected the whole village." He sighed heavily. "But I don't know what there is that we can do. We cannot bury them. There are too many. And, in time, this whole village will be overgrown. They will get a burial, a slow one, a proper one, from Harmony." He looked up beseechingly at Javin. "What can we do?"
"I don't know, except that there has to be something." Javin was desperate. "We're human. It's what humans do for other humans. I just don't know what." Suddenly he jabbed his finger at Banith. "You just said it was in the past, yes?"
Banith nodded.
"Then you can find out what happened, can't you? You can tell us. It's your talent, isn't it? Holding something and seeing its history? That's what you do. You can find out what happened to them."
Banith stood up and backed away from Javin. "Oh no, no, no. No, don't ask me to do that. You're asking me to look at them as they died! You can't ask me to do that. No!"
Javin would not be denied though. "There is no other option. None!" He turned to Torrint. "You said we were going to Swe
etwater after this, yes?" Torrint nodded. "How is it possible that nobody in Sweetwater has nothing to do with these people here?" Torrint frowned. Javin knew he was not saying it well enough. His mind was still swirling. "Those dead people in this building? Some of them must have had relatives or friends in Sweetwater. You said they came from Sweetwater. They can't be close to each other and have nothing to do with each other." Torrint looked thoughtful. Javin glared at both of the traders, trying to find the right words to act as levers. "You said trading is about information, about using it, right? Well, if this isn't information I don't know what is. And, if we go into Sweetwater with just this, not knowing what happened, what will they think of you, of us? Don't you see? We have to find out! And that means Banith has to look at what happened. He has to."
There was silence for a while, nobody looking at anyone else. Finally Torrint nodded at Javin, his face taut, his voice flat. "Yes. We cannot face friends and relatives without information. You were right. I was wrong. We must find out." He turned to his partner. "Banith, you have to do it."
Banith looked as if he wanted be anywhere other than there. "I don't know if I can." He put his hand up to stop Javin from speaking. "It doesn't mean I won't. But I have to have something I can touch which will show me what I need to see. Clothing won't do. It's too vague, too much history. There has to be something else. Something recent, close to the time they died. Something I can hold." He looked from Torrint to Javin and back again. "You're going to have to help me find it, whatever it is." He pointed to the building. "And it's going to be in there."
Torrint took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes as he tried to get ready to go back in. He let out his breath in one explosive sound and then waved his hands in dismissal. "I cannot simply go in there again. I need a little time. I will go and I will help you, but... ." He walked away a short distance, lost in his emotions.
Banith looked to Javin who said, "I don't know what I'm looking for, but I'll go in with you."
Banith stopped at the door, his face pale. "I need something that looks newer than most other things. It could be anything; a fresh piece of unworn pottery perhaps. Maybe a new bag. I don't know what it will be, but the closer it was made to the time, the clearer it will be."
The two of them entered reluctantly and tried to see if whatever would work was visible from the door. This second time of looking, knowing what was there, Javin noticed something else.
He tugged at Banith's sleeve. "These people, it's like they were together and, I don't know, but I'd guess that they were in a circle. See? There's a gap in the middle and most of them, their heads are toward the middle as well. Have you heard of anything like that? Some sort of religion?"
Banith looked, a puzzled frown on his face.
"I know what it is." Torrint had come in and was standing behind them, tears edging down his face. "They had gone deaf."
"Could be," said Banith, nodding, still trying to regulate his breathing.
"Deaf? How would that kill them?" asked Javin.
"Deaf to the song. Deaf to Harmony. They couldn't hear Her anymore. They lost their connection."
"Song? What song?"
Torrint dismissed that question. "Later. Now we help Banith to find out more." And he gestured at the bodies.
The next few moments were ones which Javin would never be able to erase from his memory, no matter how fervently he wanted to. Crouching, not touching, trying not to see what he was looking at, wanting to get out, wanting to find the object so he could leave with a good reason. None of them said a word. The only sound was the catch of breath in a throat, the rustle of their clothing as they stood, stepped and knelt again.
Finally, interminably, Banith spoke. "This will work. This will be enough." And he headed for the exit. All three of them were blinking in the sunlight, drawing in the air which suddenly felt cleaner.
Linked together by the invisible chain of shared experience, all three turned and walked back to the wagons, the silence hanging over them like a shroud.
Banith went to his wagon, motioning to Torrint and Javin to remain with theirs. "I need to be alone. I'll be as quick as I can."
Torrint stood and rubbed his arms and then his legs, as if they had gone numb, as if to reassure himself that he was still alive. He stomped his feet and then disappeared inside his wagon. He re-appeared moments later clutching a small clay flask.
Jumping down beside Javin, he pulled the stopper out and offered it with a nod of his head. "I think this will help."
Javin took it and gave a cautious sniff. In answer to his inquiring glance, Torrint added, "Blane brandy."
Javin took a sip and felt the warmth flow down into him. He hadn't realized how chilled he had become, despite the warmth of the day. His mouth filled with the taste of something sweet and his nose filled with what he could only later describe as the scent of summer, its warmth flooding his body.
Gratefully, he handed the flask back, and Torrint took a much longer gulp before replacing the stopper.
There was an awkward silence. Neither wanted to speak about it, but it was too big to ignore. So they said nothing, for nothing else could be spoken of yet. And they waited for Banith.
Finally, he re-appeared. Wordlessly, Torrint held out the flask. Banith flashed a tight smile of appreciation and took a quick, small sip and handed it back.
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, resting against the wheel as he collected his thoughts. The other two crouched to face him.
He held out his hand. "This is what I used," he said, as they peered at it. Torrint's eyes widened in surprise. It was shiny and seemed to have an edge to it, and maybe a handle. It had been battered out of shape. "Yes. It's metal. I found it near this recently carved wooden belt cinch." He held out his other hand. Javin looked at it, seeing how similar it was to what held his leggings up: two holes at angles where he threaded the ties through and knotted them. It kept them from tangling and was easy to adjust.
"But this metal. It's definitely recent and it couldn't have come from here. So I thought it would be better to try with it first." Banith paused as he re-ran what he had seen, taking a shuddering breath as he tried to control his voice. "You were right, Torrint. They had gone deaf. And this metal thing, this did not come from Harmony. It came from up there." He gazed upwards. "Not from Harmony. From some place else." He held out the metal object to them. "This... thing, whatever it was, was worn by someone who came to Blackeye from beyond Harmony. This is not anything to do with Harmony. There is no history of it here. It feels wrong. And it was left here. I think it was a gift, maybe. And I think, from what I could gather, I think that Harmony knew it was wrong. I don't know how it was wrong, but I saw how this metal was the reason they went deaf. I don't think any of them, any of the people here, knew it was wrong at first. But, then they did and that's when this got beaten as if they wanted to destroy it." Banith's voice lowered. "And that's when they went deaf. And that's why they were all together." His voice broke as he re-lived the last moments he had seen. "They were all together in that place because they were trying to apologize, trying to hear Harmony again." He looked up, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, Torrint! They were trying so hard. Some of them were even eating the soil. They were so lonely! It was awful... ." He sobbed, great shuddering gusts of breath. He flung the metal away. "I hate my talent. I hate it! I don't want to feel this. I don't want to feel what they felt! I hate it."
Torrint offered the brandy again; the only thing he felt he could do. Javin picked up the metal and placed it in the back of the wagon, without Banith noticing. Torrint saw him, however, and he dipped his head and closed his eyes in a quiet 'Thank you' at him.
Notes From Haven
The Rise Of The Military
Taken from "Yearly Report Of The Office Of Unity, 1025":
"... And so, the figures show very clearly just how vital the use of armed forces are in maintaining a peaceful and manageable population. Strikes were fewer, protests smaller and produc
tion improved overall. The suggestion that a military commander of appropriate rank should be on the board of most governmental offices should be taken under serious consideration. Likewise, the training and supply of the armed forces should also be increased to a level commensurate with their extra activities."
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From "The Minutes of the House of Representatives, Lander 12, 1053":
"Motion: That the Commander in Chief and his Executive Officer shall be considered de facto members of the House by virtue of their positions and shall be liable for nomination for Privy Council positions as well as for positions on the Governing Body itself. Passed, 130 - 16."
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Source: "Internal eyes-only memorandum, C-in-C Army HQ, to Staff Officers, Solstice 5, 1090":
"Note: All Staff Officers of Grade 4 and above will make it their duty to, first gain seats on all local governmental bodies and, second, to work towards controlling said body. This can be done through direct elections, or through acquiring posts of sufficient weight to allow control of the work of the body.
This has become necessary as, in recent years, there is a general slackness in government, particularly with regard to the venality and general lack of personal discipline shown by a majority of elected officials.
It is not the intention at this time to overthrow the government in any fashion. However, it is the intention that the discipline of a military commander is present at all times, in all levels of government so that the other elected officials can be guided by example, or by gentle coercion when necessary, to have the proper regard for Haven and its populace at all times. There has long been too much personal aggrandizement in office, the taking of bribes and so on, which serves only to weaken the regard the population has for its rulers. It is, therefore, the intention of this memo that steps are taken to reverse this situation and that within a short space of time government may once again be seen as a privilege burdened with responsibility.
