by Garry Ocean
Then they took the ruler and carefully measured out the point in the center of the map on all sides. And then spent a whole night, triangulating it with the current maps. They concluded that the Forest in all the time passed had significantly advanced to the East, and if the Old City had been indeed where they thought it had, its search would be incredibly difficult. To be more exact, most probably impossible.
That was when Frice for the first time suggested that one of them would have to go to the people of near-Forest for some time. Perhaps, living there would make it possible to know the Forest better, and by earning the hunters’ trust – even gather a group for the journey. The other one, who would stay in the Great City, would continue to study the archives and prepare the technical aspects and equipment for the expedition. Frice also suggested that since his Gift was stronger, he should go to the near-Forest. Rich thought the idea was ridiculous and they did not bring it up for some time.
For two more years hey were collecting various materials relating to the Old City. The friends’ interest to it not only did not disappear, but on the contrary was developing more and more, as they gained knowledge through their research. Now they were wondering how these simple and obvious things never came to anyone’s mind before.
For example, take the lab equipment and devices that were used under the strictest control of one of the chief masters. It was clear that these devices were no longer produced. At best, only some parts were repaired. Rich and Frice once managed to get into the holy grail, the repair workshop for the lab equipment. What they saw there was obvious. The skilful workmen did not produce anything new. They were simply taking the working and whole parts from the hopelessly broken devices and put them in the functioning ones. Now the friends were sure that all this equipment was produced long before their time. And the traces led to the Old City again. The friends were losing their minds in excitement when they imagined what other great things they can discover in the Old City.
Frice tossed the coin into the air. It flew high up, turned several times and fell on the thick rug at his feet. Frice croaked like an old man and bent down to get it. That very moment the flames from the fireplace reflected on the coin, and startled Frice leaned back. He thought that the Wingie winked at him just like it did on that fateful day.
“Why was I not brave enough that day?” he asked himself for a hundredth time.
On the night of their graduation, when they both received their hard-earned Master robes, Rich said, “So, Frice, there’s no reason to delay this anymore. You were right. We cannot do it without going undercover and living with the near-Forest people.”
Frice hesitated then. It had been two years since they had a conversation when Frice offered this. During that time, his personal life changed and he fell in love. Frice’s bride was no other than the daughter of the Chief Archivist himself. The marriage potentially could result in his high rank in the society. Why he had failed to tell that to Rich as it was then, Frice could not explain to himself even now. Neither could he forgive himself for that.
“Let’s go together,” Rich continued, oblivious to his friend’s hesitation. “I am afraid, the City is of no help to us anymore.”
“No, Rich,” Frice objected, insensibly feeling out the cherished coin in his pocket. “If anyone goes, it should be just one. And as I said, I will be much more fitting for this role.”
“I also have enough Gift to play the role of a native whisperer!” Rich seemed to be offended. “If you put it that way, let’s cast lots.”
“Right now?” Frice exclaimed, hardly holding himself from agreeing right away. Everything was working out better than he could hope for.
“Why not? Why drag this out?” Rich said decisively. “No time to waste!”
“Well, if you insist,” Frice was still projecting hesitation.
“Are we going to draw a straw?” Rich asked.
“I have a better idea. Let’s toss a coin,” Frice rushed, pulling the gold coin out of his inside pocket.
“Let’s do it!” Rich agreed spiritedly.
“If it’s the Wise man, you are going beyond the Rapid Waters, if the coat of arms, it’s me,” Frice said, trying to steady his voice.
“Deal, toss it up!”
Frice’s thumb threw the coin into the air. It flipped in the air several times and dropped on the ground, as if unwillingly. While flying down, the coin shined in the Orphius’ rays, and Frice thought that he saw its Wingie winking at him. Of course, it was just his overactive mind playing games on him.
“The Wise man,” Rich breathed out. “See, everything is resolved.”
He did not even lean forward to make sure again, saying, “See, the fate has winked at you.”
“Yes, of course, it’s a fair draw, what can you do?” Frice mumbled, quickly picking up the coin with Archy the Wise on both sides from the ground and putting it back into his pocket.
Outside, a watchdog howled. Frice, leaning back in his chair, tossed and caught the coin several times. Every time, Archy the Wise ended up on top, as he should.
“And this one-eyed bird. What did Rich say then?” Frice said begrudgingly, trying to remember, “See, the fate has winked at you. That’s right, that’s exactly what he said, ‘the fate winked at you’. Not ‘smiled’ but ‘winked,’ at me...”
Frice jumped off the chair, exclaiming, “I am such an old idiot!”
He plunged back into the chair with all his weight. The chair made an unhappy and alarming noise. “He guessed then! Not even that, you stupid stinkh, he just played along!” Frice scolded himself.
His hand went for the bottle as if by itself, and Frice put his lips to its neck, without even bothering about pouring the wine into his glass.
********
Whisperer was walking along the central street. Despite the late hour, there were still a lot of people outside. The city was getting ready for the Celebration. His mood was foul. Frice told him directly that the Guardians would do nothing to save the residents of near-Forest.
“The Guardians!” he whispered. “A bunch of idiots who are only concerned about there own well-being and safety.”
Whisperer walked straight, not trying to shake off the tail. There was no sense in hiding anymore. He knew that the usual life of the City and of the entire near-Forest will change radically. “But there will be nowhere to retreat,” he thought angrily.
Chapter 6
The night was calm, with no dreams. Nick sat in his bed and looked around. Everyone was still asleep.
“When did Whisperer come back?” he thought. Suddenly, he felt a slight pinch on his neck and clearly heard Umka’s voice in his ears, “Good morning, Nick. I was waiting for you to wake up. Did not want to disturb your sweet dreams.”
“Umka! Is that you?” Nick exclaimed out loud. “I’m happy you are back!”
“Well, to be exact, I never left anywhere.”
“And, as I can see you are in good mood?” Nick just now realized how much he missed the familiar voice.
“You can say so. I have managed to reboot myself completely. But I am afraid it is only temporary. I want to warn you right away that most of my memory is still inaccessible to me, or perhaps even lost. As soon as we entered the upper atmosphere layers of this planet, my central processer started to fail and a little later shut down completely. Now I can operate only with the piece of memory that at that moment was not involved in the operational system’s work. Most of my functions are still inaccessible.”
“What happened to you, do you understand now?” Nick sensed that he caught a note of regret in Umka’s voice.
“Most probably, it is a side effect of the artificially induced quantum resonance. The same thing, with high probability, happened to the engine of the rescue capsule. It looks like no mechanisms or devices working on sub-wave principle can function here normally.”
“Wow, but this is a lion’s share of all Earth’s devices,” Nick seemed a little lost, “Starting with household applianc
es and ending with the ultra-modern A Class starships.”
“Right now, I am of less use than electronic irons from two hundred years ago,” if Umka knew how to sigh, she would have done so now. “Those at least had the access to the inter-galaxy network.”
“Is this all the pyramid’s fault?” Nick was hardly holding himself from trying to console her. More often than not he wanted to behave with her not as with an artificial intelligence device but as a regular human being.”
“Must be. The quantum resonance can only be of artificial origin. Such an effect has not been observed even when the supernovas are born.”
“Let me assure you,” Nick smiled, “you haven’t gone stupid. What did you say your lost functions were?”
“Too many to list. Among the applied functions, the most important probably is that all video and audio archives are lost. They were directly connected with the central inter-quantum processor. I managed to free up a part of the operational system responsible for perception. That’s why we can talk now.”
“It’s annoying,” Nick imagined himself showing Sith an episode from his life. Or better yet, “The Pandemia Landing” from the endless series “Starship Troopers.” It would be interesting to see his reaction. “So, does that mean that your sensors can receive information, the camera is recording everything, but it cannot be played back?”
“I am working on this, but cannot guarantee anything. On top of everything, there is a constant leakage of energy from my batteries.”
“Any damage?”
“No, not at all. The batteries are fully functioning. Now the leakage is weak. But at the place of our emergency landing the batteries discharged in less than an hour.”
“Then what can this be?”
“Too little data to determine.” Umka fell silent. Then she added in an upbeat voice, “But in any case, try to spend more time in the sun!”
Nick heard Sith’s bed squeaking. The boy was sitting up, with his feet dangling off the bed.
“Nick! Who are you whispering to?” rubbing his sleepy eyes, the boy asked.
“Why, are you awake?” Nick smiled. “It’s nothing, you must have been dreaming.”
“Not at all!” Sith said stubbornly. “I opened my eyes, and you are sitting there moving your lips. At first, I thought you were praying. You know, there are some weird people who pray to the Departed Gods. As if they are waiting for their help. Weirdoes are weirdoes. Tell me, Nick, why would anyone want to pray to gods like that, if they had departed?”
“Perhaps, they are praying for them to come back?” Nick shrugged.
“But if they have departed, they are no longer here. Right, Nick?”
“Something like that,” Nick’s thoughts were now preoccupied with something totally different, and he was just keeping up the conversation.
“See!” the boy was pleased. “And then what is the sense in appealing to someone who is not here anymore? Take, for example, Valu. Do you hear him, Nick? He is snoring in the next room. You can go there right now, wake him up and ask him for something. Although, no. It’s better not to wake up Valu. If he didn’t have enough sleep, he would never do what you ask. No, let’s take another example. It’s better to wake up Whisperer. Well, what do you want to ask from him? Let’s wake him up right now. Whisperer is a kind man; he would never deny you help. This I can understand. But to appeal to the Departed, I believe, is simply stupid. It’s better to ask for help from Morok, in my opinion.”
“What? Who is that?” a familiar word jerked Nick back to reality.
“Nick, have you not been listening to me at all?” Sith asked, offended.
“I have, I have,” Nick eagerly tried to reassure the boy.
“So, Nick, how come you’ve never heard of Morok? You must be a steppe dweller for sure, Nick. Why does Whisperer not believe that you are from the steppes? As for me, I am sure that you are a steppe dweller. No, of course Whisperer knows better. In fact, he knows everything, but…”
“So, what is it, that Morok of yours?” Nick stared at Sith, slightly squinting his eyes. He already knew that a stare like this would make the boy answer the question in essence.
“Well, this is what I am trying to explain to you. Why do you have to dart your eyes at me like this? Just like your poison spitter. Morok, if you must know, is not like those Departed. It’s very real. To tell you the truth, no one has ever seen it.”
“That is, some people have seen it, of course,” Sith corrected himself. “But he comes to different people in different shapes. But why do I have to tell you, you’d better ask Ron. Morok once saved his life.”
Sith fell silent for a second, as if catching his breath, and then continued, “Although no, Ron doesn’t like talking about this, so I’ll tell you myself.”
Nick wanted to rush the boy, but held his tongue, lest the boy switched the topic again.
“One day, Ron went to the Black Swamp,” Sith finally started to tell. “He then had a little brother. That is, he has him now, too, but at that time the brother was very little. And the brother then fell sick with the swamp fever. Seriously sick, turned all green just like a warthog. Whisperer tried everything, but nothing helped. The boy would get some relief for some time, but then it starts all over again. Then Whisperer told Ron’s mother that, like, there’s only one thing that could help heal the boy. Like cures like, he said. To cure the swamp fever, one needed a swamp root. But not from the close-by swamps, he said, because their roots are too young and won’t work as medicine. Only the root from the swamps that are in the depths of the Forest could do that, he said.”
“But you know Ron, right, Nick? He said, without even thinking, like ‘would the root from the Black Swamp work?’ Everyone was shocked. His mother tried to talk him out of it. Whisperer said, there were other suitable swamps closer than that. But Ron was stubborn, right, you do know him, right, Nick?”
“Yes, I do know him,” Nick was getting impatient. “What happened then?”
“Do not rush me! You yourself asked me to tell you. Did you not, Nick?”
“Yes, I did. Asked indeed,” Nick confirmed, appeasing the boy.
“So then you sit and listen,” Sith said in a preacher’s tone. “Everyone knows how to interrupt a good story. So, getting back to it. Ron prepared and went to the Forest that same day. All by himself, alone. Didn’t take anyone with him. Even though many people offered him their help. Even didn’t take Rigo with him. Even though they are great friends, but you know that, right? But Ron only said that if anything were to happen to him, Rigo would become the senior one. So. He said he was moving really fast. He did not even camp for the night. That’s understandable, every day mattered then. But he, of course, finally reached the Black Swamps, and there were so many warthogs there, he couldn’t even count them! And all of them were as large as our house in the Valley. They would not let anyone close to their roots even to a hundred yards. But that is understandable. Their roots are where their baby warthogs come from.”
“So Ron thought of a trick. That is, it can be a trick for Ron, but for anyone else – a sure death. Not far from that place, a herd of yellowbellies was grazing. He said they were huge too. Naturally, because there’s a lot of food for them in the deep Forest. So they grow really fast and fat. As fat as this,” as if for evidence, Sith spread this arms as wide as he could.
“So, he crouched to them unnoticed and hit one on the head with his spear. Bang! The yellowbelly got scared and flopped his belly up, zap! And is just lying on the ground,” Sith burst into laughter, imagining this. “So, Nick, have you ever seen a yellowbelly belly up, ha? No? It’s so funny you’d piss yourself. He was just lying there, moving his furry legs frantically, snapping his claws, and couldn’t flop himself back!”
“And of course, the other yellowbellies could not tolerate such boldness,” Sith said, after he finished laughing and wiped the tears of laughter off his eyes. “They attacked Ron as one herd. But that’s exactly what he wanted. Ron started to run
toward the swamps. The yellowbellies followed him. They were running, snapping their claws and jaws as if they had eaten nothing for a whole day! And Ron is just running straight to the swamps. Without looking back, just looking under his feet, jumping from hillock to tussock. Well, he did calculate everything correctly. As soon as the warthogs saw that the yellowbellies are stampeding right toward their nest, they started to hoot and move. They tore their huge buts off of the swamp and moved toward the herd. You do know, Nick, that they can’t stand each other, right?”
“Yes, Sith,” he confirmed readily, afraid that the boy would switch his story again to Nick and his relatives, the steppe dwellers.
“So, Ron took advantage of that. While they were showing each other who is stronger, he calmly pulled out the warthog root and started to run back. True story, Nick. Ron is a good hunter, isn’t he, Nick?”
“Ron is an excellent hunter indeed,” Nick confirmed, without even pretending. “But, Sith, you wanted to tell me about Morok.” Here he couldn’t resist mocking the boy, “Right, Sith?”
“But that happened to him on the way back,” Sith paid no attention to Nick’s teasing. “So, what kind of a person are you, Nick? First, you beg me to tell you something, and then you interrupt me at every word! How do you communicate there, in your steppes, with each other? One says something, and another one talks over him at the same time?”
“You are an excellent storyteller, Sith,” Nick had to flatter the boy. “I just can’t wait to learn about morok.”
“Not MorOk, but MOrok, stress on the first syllable, how many times should I repeat that?” the boy reprimanded Nick. But it was clear that Nick’s praise gave him joy.
“Well, on with the story,” the boy continued, “Ron, of course, stayed to watch, just a little bit, how the warthogs and yellowbellies were fighting each other. I’d love to see that as well. What about you, Nick? It would be interesting to see, wouldn’t it?”
