The Fall of the Families

by Phillip Mann

  Just now they were at a place where the Mendel Hills, watched over by the picturesque cone of Frautus, rolled down to the sea. A shallow beach of pebbles joined with the clear water, which lapped in slow waves. A brig of rocks poked out into the sea, and Pawl, who could not swim, scrambled over rocks keeping pace with Laurel, who dived and swam. In this interrupted fashion they were discussing a proposed holiday.

  “It won’t be all business Laurel, that I promise you,” said Pawl. Laurel lay back in the water, her finely webbed hands fluttering gently, holding her place as the waves rose and fell. “We’ll have as much adventure as we can. We’ll get away from all this. But I want people to see you, to see us, to get to know us. The Paxwax have been distant for too long. That has been part of our trouble. We have retreated behind contracts. Moved secretly. Mixed only with our own. I once told a friend” – Pawl was thinking of Neddelia Proctor, though he did not mention that lady by name – “that when I became Master I would throw open the windows and let some fresh air in. That is what we all need.”

  Laurel rolled over in the water and dived with an easy scoop of her hands. She touched the sandy bottom, sending up a cloud of silt, and then rose to the surface and blew out lustily. “Sounds fun,” she said, but her words held no conviction.

  The truth was that Pawl needed to visit the outer parts of his empire. He needed to reassert the strength of the Paxwax. In some places, one-time minor officials had set themselves up as petty Warlords and were planning to secede from the Paxwax. This had to be crushed in the bud. There were diplomatic fences to be mended and new treaties to be negotiated. Pawl knew that if he and his new wife made themselves known he could win back the loyalty that had deserted the Paxwax during his father’s time in power.

  At the same time he wanted to give Laurel a holiday. He hoped vaguely that visits to strange and exotic parts of his domain would lift her out of herself. He wanted to show her the vastness of the empire she had inherited.

  “Sounds fun? It will be fun. We’ll make it fun.” He reached down and cupped water in his hand and scattered it over Laurel. “You see. Ill do everything in my power to make you happy, Laurel. That is what I want more than anything else.”

  “I know.”

  Laurel wished she could say more. She knew the words that Pawl wanted her to say. But something held her back. At times she almost wanted Pawl to lose his temper with her and tell her to get a hold of herself. But she knew that he wouldn’t. He was looking at her sadly, with his head on one side, a bit like a dog.

  “You know Laurel, we have to fight circumstances a bit,” said Pawl. “Happiness doesn’t grow on trees, as they say. We’ll have to put the bad things behind us. Everyone suffered in this silly war. But life goes on.”

  “I know. I know I’m being selfish. But I can’t help it. Bear with me. Give me time. All this – “ she gestured at the sea and the high cliffs fringed with trees – “all this is making me feel better. Soon I’ll be myself again. When can we set out on your grand tour?”

  Pawl accepted the change of subject. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. The sooner the better. Wynn can easily handle the day-to-day business. And Helium Bogdanovich has said that he’ll keep an eye on things.”

  Laurel smiled at this. “So, Master of Paxwax, your planning is well advanced. And here was I thinking you were just broaching the idea.”

  “I am. I am. Nothing is decided yet. But we’ll have time to be alone. And Paris will come. There will be so much to see.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Well, I thought perhaps Peron. He will act as my secretary. And I know he wants to visit the places where battles took place during the Alien Wars. He can be our guide.”

  “And?”

  “And Odin.”

  “Hmm. Quite a party.”

  Laurel turned her face away and swam out from the rocks. She did not want Pawl to see her disappointment. Pawl had tried to talk to her several times about Odin and though she wanted to feel close to the strange creature for Pawl’s sake, she found she could not. Instead she felt ill at ease. In her heart she hoped that Odin would never return to Pawl’s island. “Have you heard then, from Odin?” she called.

  “No. Not a word. But I have let it be known that I want to see him. I want him by me. He is a wise counsellor.”

  Laurel did not reply. She was not sure how she felt about Pawl’s evident interest in things alien. It was a new side to him, one she had never seen before, and she blamed this creature called Odin. “Well, perhaps he is busy,” she called. “The Inner Circle has a lot to do at present. Perhaps he was only sent to help you during the war. You must be ready for disappointment.”

  “I know.”

  Pawl sat on the rocks with his knees up to his chin while Laurel swam in a circle and then dived and rose close to him. “Will you start writing songs again?”

  “I hope so. I don’t know. Perhaps.”

  “You must. They are part of you. Part of us.”

  In the time before they were married, before the war, Pawl had written many songs to Laurel. But since he had become Master of Paxwax, that bright spontaneity had dried up. Laurel knew that she was part of the cause.

  “I’ll strike a bargain with you, Master of Paxwax. If you will write songs for me again, I’ll come on your holiday with you, and happily.”

  Pawl nodded. “I’ll try,” he said.

  Laurel reached up for him as though inviting a kiss and when Pawl offered his hands she seized them and then kicked back. Pawl toppled for a moment and saw Laurel laughing, and then fell with a splash into the water.

  She held him firmly while he blew out and then cradled him in her arms while she swam back into shallow water. “Welcome to my world,” she whispered. “Now, you’re not going to tell me that writing a song is harder than learning to swim, are you?”

  “No,” said Pawl, standing in the shallows. “And if songs will make you happy, songs you shall have. Will you go with me? Shall we tour round my domain?”

  “We will.”

  3

  ON BENNET

  Pawl wondered about himself. He had sat down intending to let a simple love lyric flow, for he was in the mood and the words were bubbling. But it seemed that the time for love lyrics was over.

  The dog sat at the master’s gate,

  Famished for a bone,

  But though it waited all the day,

  The Master came not home.

  The sun dipped down. The shadows grew.

  The dog gnawed at a scone,

  And though it howled when the moon peeped out,

  The master came not home.

  At twelve o’clock the thunder cracked,

  The rain came with a roar,

  Pelting the dog where it lay quite still,

  Outside the Master’s door.

  The Master never did come home.

  He’d sold the place for gain.

  And a Spideret with an eye for such things

  Ate up the dog’s remains.

  “What does it mean?” asked Laurel. “I didn’t expect a sad song.”

  “I think it is about innocence,” said Pawl. “The innocent always suffer. Isn’t that the truth of things?”

  “Yes.”

  4

  ON SANCTUM

  Odin had left his Home world alone.

  How different his arrival on Sanctum!

  This was the secret world of the Inner Circle. It looked like a dead world spinning round a dying sun, but it teemed with life below its surface.

  As he passed from the Way Gate on to the shuttle platform Odin felt the psychosphere of Sanctum surround him. It stopped him in his tracks: the world bubbled and throbbed with life and purpose. He felt it like a shock. It was like a beating of wings inside him, as though a bird was trapped. He had been so long on his Homeworld that he had forgotten how charged the psycho-sphere of Sanctum could be, and how violent, for gathered here on this one small world were the representatives of all the main alien
species. They were planning their future.

  Deeper than all the rest, almost like the voice of the sea itself, was the murmur of the Tree. It was calling to him, friendly and familiar, bidding him welcome return. The Tree was the guiding intelligence of Sanctum, and Odin responded to it with a mixture of awe and dread.

  As a telepathic creature Odin was adept at reading all the flavours of thought. But the Tree was magnificent beyond Odin’s understanding. Its presence was everywhere: in the stone walls and bright tiled walkways, in the smell of the air and in the silences. Yet Odin knew almost nothing about it.

  He hurried forward. Waiting for him were fellow Gerbes. They presented him with his black gown and mask, the robes of the Inner Circle. The gown settled about him and adapted to his contours and began to protect him from the dry air. The mask fitted up under his dark hood and slipped firmly into place, held by fine red tendrils. He looked dumpy as he squirmed inside the gown. At a distance he could have been mistaken for a dwarf human being.

  The Gerbes were eager for news, eager for a scent of their Homeworld and, as they travelled down to the surface of Sanctum, Odin let them share his memories of the storms and the flung spray and the biting wind. He felt their pleasure and hope.

  Hope. It seemed to him that that one word summed up the psychosphere of Sanctum.

  The Tree was calling him urgently, drawing him along the wide tiled thoroughfare towards its chamber. As he glided along Odin noticed a change in the creatures that he met. They seemed friendlier, more deferential.

  He met a Hammer, bounding along with its great sting raised so that it brushed the ceiling. Once the Hammer would have driven past the Gerbes forcing it to cower back. Now the Hammer stepped aside and let him pass under its jointed hairy legs. He met a clan of Spiderets, who surrounded him, climbing on one another’s backs and touching him lightly with their speaking feelers. Odin found it difficult to understand the Spiderets. They thought quickly, in short jagged sentences. All he could pick up was that they were friendly. They seemed to be involved in some ceremony of greeting. The Spiderets were always involved in ceremony.

  Somewhere Odin felt the presence of a Diphilus. It announced itself in images, as it too was telepathic. Odin saw in his mind a cascade of fire. Immediately he drew back, for that thought could damage; and just as quickly the image transformed into a shining fountain of cool water. The Diphilus was gentle but sometimes careless. Being a form of life that fed on raw energy it found it difficult to comprehend the sensibilities of creatures that were not as robust as itself.

  Finally Odin approached a vast cavern. He was aware of the aura that marked the Tree’s presence. Waiting just inside the cavern was a Hooded Parasol. It was waiting for him. This was the creature that Odin used most often for eyes. Odin had a liking for the visible spectrum. The Parasol hovered, fanning its petals, which blazed with colours: scarlet and black, green and indigo. Odin could pick up its thoughts, Use Me, it said, WELCOME BACK TO SANCTUM.

  Odin slipped into the mind of the Parasol and immediately could see.

  *

  Facing him was the Tree. It was simple, symmetrical and huge.

  It rose from the soft fibrous floor of the cavern and did not branch until it almost reached to the roof. There it spread into a white moist canopy. Pale lights, like the reflection of sunlight on water, swarmed in its high branches.

  Odin worked his way down through the cavern until he was close to the trunk and could reach out with one of his tendrils and touch it. The tree was very much aware of him. It spoke in his mind. Odin felt that if the sea could have spoken, it would have had this voice. But he was not fooled. Manipulation could take many forms and was as subtle as thought itself.

  YOUR REST ON YOUR HOMEWORLD HAS DONE YOU GOOD, ODIN. YOU ARE STRONGER. I CAN FEEL IT. THE LAST TIME YOU SAT BY ME YOU WERE PALE … YOU HAVE BEEN DOING A LOT OF THINKING.

  I HAVE.

  AND ARE YOU HAPPIER?

  NOT HAPPIER. MORE SETTLED. I DON’T THINK HAPPINESS MATTERS, DO YOU? WE DO THE THINGS WE HAVE TO. I HAVE ACCEPTED THAT.

  The Tree pondered. YOU SEEM TO HAVE ACCEPTED A LOT. HAVE YOU ALSO ACCEPTED THAT YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE THE COMING EVENTS?

  YES.

  There was something in the air like a sigh. Odin was aware of a drawing closer. He knew that no one outside themselves could receive their conversation, THEN I SHALL TELL YOU SOMETHING THAT NO ONE BUT US NEED KNOW. NOR SHALL I SURVIVE. DO NOT ASK ME FOR DETAILS, FOR IF I KNEW THEM I WOULD NOT TELL YOU. I CANNOT READ THE FUTURE ANY MORE CLEARLY THAN YOU, THOUGH I HAVE A SENSE OF WHAT ACTION IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS NOT. LET ME JUST SAY THAT IF YOU SURVIVE AND I SURVIVE, THEN WE SHALL HAVE FAILED AND THE TIME FOR THE OVERTHROW OF THE HUMANS WILL NOT BE NOW. YOU SEE, WE ARE LINKED, YOU AND I. YOU NEVER IMAGINED THAT, DID YOU, SITTING ON YOUR COLD WORLD WITH THE SALT SPRAY RUNNING DOWN YOU? WE ARE BOTH PART OF THE COST THAT MUST BE MET IF THE HUMAN ORDER IS TO BE OVERTHROWN. AND WE SHALL SIMPLY JOIN THE LONG LIST OF ENTITIES, STRETCHING BACK TO THE TIME OF THE GREAT PUSH, WHO DIED FIGHTING OR WERE ABANDONED. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN US AND THEM IS THAT WE KNOW MORE. MUCH, MUCH MORE. AND WE CAN PLAN. WE ARE SHAPING EVENTS. AND IN ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION! YES, I THINK HAPPINESS IS IMPORTANT. IT COMES WITH A SENSE OF PURPOSE. NOW, ANY MORE QUESTIONS, OR SHALL WE START PLANNING THE FUTURE?

  ONE QUESTION, said Odin, stirring beneath his black robes, ONE THING I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW. WHEN I OFFERED MYSELF TO TRAVEL TO THE HOMEWORLD OF PAWL PAXWAX AND HELP TO SAVE HIM, WAS THAT AN ACT OF MY FREE WILL OR DID YOU COMPEL ME?

  Again the sighing and the feeling of closeness. It was as though Odin were a mouse bedded in the fur of a lion, AH, YOU WANT TO KNOW THE SECRETS OF THE TREE. WELL, I WILL TEACH YOU MORE THAN YOU EXPECT. THE DECISION WAS YOUR OWN, BUT I WAS PART OF YOUR DECISION. YOU ARE SO SLOW, ODIN. SO TIMID. YOU HAVE A GREAT SPIRIT, BUT YOU ARE AFRAID OF IT. I HELPED YOU, THAT IS ALL. I LIBERATED WHAT WAS ALREADY IN YOU AND LABOURING TO GET OUT. IT WAS RIGHT THAT YOU WERE IN THIS PLACE, AT THIS TIME. YOU SEE, MANY THINGS MAY SEEM STRANGE, AN ACCIDENT EVEN, BUT NOTHING IS ACCIDENTAL. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

  NO.

  YOU WILL. BUT WHAT WOULD I HAVE DONE IF YOU HAD NOT OFFERED YOURSELF? THERE! THAT IS A TEASING QUESTION, COMPLETELY HYPOTHETICAL, BUT MY ANSWER MAY HELP YOU UNDERSTAND. I WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU – YES, YOU ODIN, FOR YOUR FATE IS MARKED ON MANY MAPS – AND I WOULD HAVE SUPPLANTED YOU. I WOULD HAVE ERASED PART OF THE LOVING MIND OF A GERBES AND SET IN ITS PLACE MY OWN WILL.

  WOULD THAT NOT HAVE BEEN SIMPLER? KINDER EVEN …? YOU WOULD HAVE SPARED ME PAIN.

  SIMPLER, YES. BUT NOT SO GOOD AND NOT SO KIND. YOU SEE, A SLAVE IS ONE THING, BUT A COMRADE IS BETTER.

  That amused Odin. For the first time since his return – for the first time for many days – he felt the healthy release of laughter. He had never thought of himself as a “comrade” of the Tree … it was preposterous, absurd, silly … the Tree was … well, the Tree was the Tree. It was as old as Sanctum itself and sometime friend of the Craint. The Tree was the guiding intelligence behind the whole of the Inner Circle, the organizing will of the aliens. It was vaster than he could imagine … and now he was its “comrade”.

  DO WE MARCH INTO BATTLE TOGETHER, COMRADE? EXACTLY.

  Odin’s humour began to subside, AND DO YOU HAVE A HOMEWORLD

  YOU HAVE FORSAKEN, COMRADE?

  I HAVE THIS WORLD AND ANOTHER THAT I HAVE NEVER VISITED.

  Odin did not understand this, is THERE A HOMEWORLD THEN, JUST

  FILLED WITH TREES LIKE YOURSELF?

  YES.

  WHERE IS IT?

  FAR FROM HERE. HIDDEN NOW. DEEP IN WHAT THE HUMAN KIND CALL ELLIOTT’S POCKET. BUT SOON IT WILL EMERGE.

  WILL YOU GO THERE?

  NO. AS I SAID, I SHALL NOT SURVIVE THE PRESENT MOVEMENT ANY MORE THAN YOU. BESIDES, I HAVE A FULL LIFE HERE. DO NOT TRY TO UNDERSTAND ME, ODIN. JUST BE CONTENT WITH THIS KNOWLEDGE; IT IS VERY SPECIAL. WE ARE ALL IN OUR DIFFERENT WAYS SERVANTS OF LIFE, AND LIFE IS INFINITE. REMEMBER THIS CONVERSATION. ONE DAY YOU MIGHT HAVE TO EXPLAIN ME
TO PAWL PAXWAX.

  Odin had to be content with this sparse knowledge. He felt a whispering about him as the Tree withdrew. Then came the murmuring as the psychosphere of Sanctum reached through to him again.

  NOW EVENTS ARE MOVING QUICKLY, PAWL PAXWAX IS JOINED WITH HIS LOVED ONE. DID YOU KNOW THAT? The Tree’s tone was brisk.

  I AM GLAD.

  HE HAS BEGUN MAKING ENQUIRIES ABOUT YOU. HE WANTS YOU WITH HIM. YOU HAVE DONE YOUR WORK WELL. HE TRUSTS YOU.

  I KNOW.

  WHILE YOU HAVE BEEN AWAY WE HAVE BEEN CONSIDERING OUR NEXT MOVES. WE MUST BE CAREFUL. THE WRONG MOVES NOW COULD THROW EVERYTHING INTO CONFUSION. I SHALL ASK THE DIPHILUS TO EXPLAIN.

  Odin sensed the Tree send out a call to the Diphilus and immediately a creature entered the vast chamber. It rolled towards him like molten glass, but it transmitted no heat. It spoke as it rolled.

  TELL ME ODIN! YOU ARE CLOSE TO PAWL PAXWAX, HAS HE EVER EXPRESSED CURIOSITY ABOUT US … ABOUT WHAT HE CALLS ALIENS?

  HE WAS CURIOUS ABOUT ME. HE DISCOVERED SOMETHING ABOUT THE HISTORY OF THE GERBES. A HUMAN CALLED PERON HELPED HIM.

  GOOD. GOOD.

  BUT HE HAS NEVER ASKED ABOUT OTHER ALIENS. HE IS VERY IGNORANT.

  WOULD YOU SAY HE HAS A CURIOUS CAST OF MIND??

  WHEN HIS INTEREST IS ROUSED.

  The Diphilus glittered, THEN YOU MUST AROUSE HIS INTEREST, WE THINK IT IS IMPORTANT THAT HE SHOULD BECOME CURIOUS ABOUT ALIENS, HE MUST THINK OF US AS POTENTIAL FRIENDS, AS ALLIES EVEN. CAN YOU DO THAT?

  I CAN TRY.

  BUT ACT WITH CAUTION. IF HE THINKS HE IS BEING LED HE WILL REBEL. I KNOW.

  OF COURSE YOU DO. YOU KNOW HIM BETTER THAN ANY OF US. AND THEN? THEN WHEN HE FEELS CLOSE TO US YOU MUST KILL HIS LADY.

  Silence. The Diphilus shone undisturbed. The Tree was a mumble of thought in the background. WHY MUST I KILL LAUREL? asked Odin quietly, finally.