Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series, page 4
Tika felt as though her head was overstuffed with words, impressions, sensations, and she turned to clasp Farn’s face between her hands.
‘Go with Brin and Storm for a while, dear one. We are safe.’
Brin was already lifting into the air, Storm at his tail, and with only a brief hesitation, Farn followed them. Seela reclined, blocking the colonnade and Tika led the company within doors. Gijan were already placing trays of drinks on two low tables. Gan discarded his cloak with a groan of relief and freed Khosa. Everyone slumped into chairs and onto cushions, stunned by the morning’s revelations, except for Maressa.
She caught gently at a gijan’s arm as he turned from a table. The companions felt calmness pulse from her as, with great care, she held his hand and pushed his sleeve up his arm. They all stared, the gijan standing trembling before Maressa. She moved her free hand beneath the gijan’s loosely curled fist and pressed upwards, forcing his hand to lie open on the back of her own. His skin was dappled olive with faint gold markings and lines and his hand had three fingers and a thumb, the short nails curved and horny.
Seela rumbled softly and the gijan raised startled dark eyes towards the huge purple Dragon. Maressa released his sleeve, enclosing his hand between both of hers. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his and then sat back. The gijan looked at all the faces, ducked his head and retreated to the kitchen from whence issued appetising aromas. Khosa sat on the lower stairs, ready to hide above should a Keeper appear.
‘Gijan come from the salt marshes far south of the desert.’ She spoke in all their minds. ‘They should not be here. These are young. They do not live long in this heat: long enough to birth a litter and raise the children for five years or so, then they die.’
Olam sighed. ‘I didn’t understand much of what was said this morning. Kertiss and Ship used words I have never heard.’
Khosa hunched down, wrapping her tail round her front paws.
‘His name is Singer. A Ship is a thing, Singer is a living being.’
‘How can he be “alive” Khosa?’ Navan voiced the general perplexity.
‘The Survivors come from another world. They learnt to travel through the fields of stars and they finally made Ships such as Singer uses.’ She blinked her turquoise eyes at them. ‘You have all seen snails, soft creatures who live within a shell? Well Singer is something like that.’
She paused a moment. ‘On that distant world sometimes children were born with unbelievable mental abilities. But often those same children had bodies misshapen, damaged, unable to live any kind of normal life.’ The Kephi hesitated again. ‘Those children’s brains were removed from their pain wracked useless bodies and placed within the special Ships. Each Ship is therefore an individual being.’
Ren was pale. ‘But that is – appalling!’
It was Seela who replied. ‘Perhaps not though. What would happen to these children with their maimed bodies Khosa?’
‘They never survived beyond three years and stars know their physicians and healers tried hard enough to keep them living.’
‘But their minds live still within their snail shell Ships? And they have travelled the star fields and seen wonders. Surely that cannot be so very appalling Ren?’ Seela’s eyes whirred softest grey mauve.
‘And it was done with the children’s consent,’ Khosa added.
Ren’s chestnut and silver eyes glared at the Kephi. ‘Three year old children are able to consent to such a perverse treatment?’
Khosa’s tail thrashed. ‘Those children became aware in their mothers’ bellies. Their mental capacity was as high as yours is now – if not higher – by the time they had lived a year. And consider that they learnt like cloths absorbing water even while enduring physical pain such as you could never imagine. Yes, they were more than able to consent and willingly, to what was done to them.’
‘How could their brains survive?’ Ren retorted. ‘Chop an animal’s head off, it is dead.’
Khosa spat. ‘Obviously there were many processes involved in linking the brain to the actual Ship’s systems. You are deeply ignorant Ren.’
Pallin cleared his throat, eyeing the Kephi’s increasing temper with apprehension.
‘You never mentioned this Namolos fellow Tika.’
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘I thought I would wait until we’ve seen whatever Kertiss has to show us this evening.’
‘Who is Namolos anyway? Another like these two?’ Pallin looked as though he would like to spit but restrained himself.
Tika shrugged. ‘Gremara spoke his name to me, and then Khosa also. I know only that he is the Survivor to whom we must go. Perhaps he has some way of helping us cleanse the lands of the affliction, or free Ren’s Drogoya of the horrors there.’
She looked hopefully at Khosa as she spoke but the Kephi’s eyes were firmly closed and she received no reply.
A gijan came into the room and spoke softly. When only incomprehension showed on the company’s faces, he moved to the door to the kitchen and bowed.
‘I think food’s ready.’ Sket hauled Riff to his feet, then held out his hand to Tika.
The long table was laden with different foods: pastries of meat, or vegetables, or fruit, cheese, grains mixed with green leaves, and warm fresh bread. The gijan served them, anticipating any need with unerring speed and replenishing their mugs with a cold fruit drink. When the company rose replete, and moved back to the sitting room, Olam turned to the gijan. He gave a half bow.
‘Thank you for a most excellent meal gijan.’
The three tiny creatures fell to their knees, foreheads pressed to the stone floor and a whimper emerged from one of them. Olam shook his head helplessly and retreated, leaving Maressa to deal with the situation.
They passed the time waiting for their summons to Kertiss mostly in their private thoughts. Brin, Farn and Storm lay dozing just outside while Seela had disappeared in her turn. Tika went over and over this morning’s experiences, trying to order them into a pattern – with little success.
Those statues – what had they represented? The Ship – she shivered recalling the sensations that had flooded through her when she laid her hand on its skin. She had heard Singer’s words but she was also aware that he had put other things into her mind – as Kija had at the time of Farn’s hatching. Tika had felt a desperation in Singer’s mind, as if he had been isolated and afraid for too long a time.
Then Kertiss and Orla. Kertiss had done what Singer suggested in fetching Orla – too easily she wondered? And Orla had said not one word, even in greeting. What “work” might they be doing hidden beneath the great Dome? Thoughts of what she’d learnt of Rhaki’s experiments, in breeding in particular, entered Tika’s mind. She felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck.
Khosa’s triangular ears twitched and she whisked herself out of sight up the stairs. Tika hurried to the bathing room, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to calm her spinning thoughts. She heard voices in the sitting room – Gan greeting a Keeper who had obviously arrived to conduct them to the Dome again. She squared her shoulders and rejoined the others. It was the same Keeper as this morning so Tika mustered a smile of greeting for him.
She found herself walking beside Ren and touched his arm. ‘Still angry Ren? We should be as calm and cool as we can manage this evening I think.’
Ren glanced down at her and grimaced. ‘I suspect Khosa and Seela have the right of it Tika. It is just such a terrible idea at first hearing.’ His face relaxed and he gave her a friendly bump with his elbow. ‘I am as cool and calm as I can be – I promise.’
She grinned back at him and moved forward to walk with Gan. He did not wear his cloak tonight – Khosa had declined to come with them. He hoped there would be no questions as to why he would wear a cloak in the heat of midday and forego it in the chill of the desert evening. The Keeper left them at the entrance to the Dome and the company went through the arched tunnel again.
Outside, the sky overhead was a luminous green with the earliest stars pricking through. Behind them the sun had disappeared in a blaze of fading crimson and orange. Once more they paused on entering the actual Dome. It was filled with an amber light but they could discern no source of the illumination. The light faded gradually above the statues’ heads until the topmost part of the Dome was lost in soft gloom. Even the transparent capping was dark – Tika could find no glimpse of the sky as she had seen it this morning. The silence was more intense now and in unspoken agreement the company walked straight across the immense space rather than linger close by the imposing statues.
‘Mim.’ Maressa startled them all stopping dead in front of Olam. She looked at Tika. ‘The gijan’s hands Tika – the same as Mim’s.’
Tika nodded, annoyed that she had not made the connection herself but she said nothing. She would consider that implication later: for now she needed a clear mind. They reached the towering female statue and stared. Was it their collective imaginations or were her wings a little more extended? Tika bit her lip and made herself bend to the plinth, pressing her hand against the stone as Kertiss had done. She straightened, the floor already hissing open.
They walked more slowly down the ramp, expecting darkness, but the same amber light surrounded them all the way down. The floor levelled out, a blank wall to their right and ahead, but the light beckoned them on to a left turning. Before they reached it, song rippled to meet them, so it was with no surprise that they confronted Singer once they rounded the corner.
‘It is so wonderful to meet new friends,’ Singer called, his music ceasing but his words still melodious.
There were several wide openings off the curved chamber they found themselves in with Star Singer but as yet no sign of Kertiss and Orla. Ren strode directly to the Ship, laying his hand against its side.
‘Do you feel pain Singer?’ Ren asked as soon as he felt the Ship’s mind enfold his.
‘Not physical pain anymore my friend. But I have discovered there is another sort of pain which may be even worse.’
Ren flinched back, breaking the direct contact, and just stared at the Ship, his eyes magnified with tears. He stumbled back to where his companions stood even as Singer called aloud to them again.
‘Will some of you stay and talk with me? It would be so wonderful to talk with others rather than sing to myself all the time.’
Olam and crimson Brin moved instantly towards the Ship and were quickly followed by young Storm, Riff and Pallin. Brin reclined against the wall nearest to Singer’s curved end, Storm resting beside him. The three men sat on the floor and Olam spoke first.
‘Tell us what the fields of stars are like.’
‘And will you tell me then of your lands, and your lives?’ Singer asked hopefully.
‘Agreed!’
They heard footsteps approaching from one of the passages and turning towards it, Tika saw pain and rage in Ren’s face. She caught his hand and squeezed tight. Kertiss appeared then frowning at the two groups in the chamber.
‘Our common armsmen would prefer to tell tales than accompany us,’ Gan announced pleasantly before Kertiss could comment.
Seela chose that moment to loom above Gan, her face then lowering close to Kertiss’s. ‘The rest of us look forward to seeing your nesting caves,’ she said.
For the first time Kertiss looked unsure, then he shrugged. ‘As you wish.’
He turned to lead them down the passage from which he’d emerged. He hesitated as if to speak to Singer but Maressa spoke quickly.
‘Are there many rooms down here Kertiss?’
Navan hid a smile: the Vagrantian air mage sounded as though she was merely visiting a newly moved acquaintance. Kertiss stared at her blankly for a moment.
‘There are enough rooms for our requirements. If more are needed, the local people would see to it of course.’
‘Do you go among the Qwah often?’ Maressa continued her apparently inane questioning while they walked behind Kertiss.
Farn’s chin bumped on Tika’s head and she slowed to slide her arm across his neck. She noticed Sket’s hand rested on his sword hilt and his eyes were never still. They trailed at Kertiss’s heels for some time, peering into small square rooms: stone floored, stone walled and stone roofed, all lit by the same steady amber glow. Two rooms were obviously bed chambers; another they presumed to be a sitting area, but the impression was of bleakness, coldness, and they quickly found the constant light becoming tedious.
‘There do not seem to be the things within your caves which most two legs consider necessary,’ Farn suddenly remarked.
Kertiss halted and turned to the silver blue Dragon. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Coverings and cushions and books and – other people.’ Farn’s eyes whirred innocently. ‘Lady Emla and Lady Lallia filled their caves with such things.’
Kertiss sniffed. ‘Those things are not essential to existence.’
‘Lady Emla and Lady Lallia would not agree.’
‘Our work is all that is essential to us,’ said Kertiss firmly. ‘And this is where some of that work is done.’
A closed door blocked the passage ahead of them. Kertiss touched a small panel set in the door. ‘This door opens only to my hand print or my sister’s. It will open to no other.’
He stood to one side as Tika passed through, waiting until all of Seela’s tail was safely clear before closing the door again. Immediately the friends felt enclosed, trapped, but Kertiss simply walked ahead again and turned left. Ren broke the sudden silence.
Chapter Four
They found they were in the largest room other than Singer’s chamber that they had so far seen. There were many sloping desks lining three of the walls and an opaque sort of pipe rose from another larger desk in the centre of the room. Kertiss waited until most of Seela’s bulk was inside the room.
‘From this room we can monitor what happens on Kel-Harat,’ he explained. ‘Among other things.’
‘Kel-Harat?’ Gan frowned. ‘What is Kel-Harat?’
Kertiss laughed. ‘This world is Kel-Harat. It was so named millennia ago by astronomers in the Zeenol Galaxy.’ He laughed again and went to the central desk. He pressed various coloured buttons scattered across the desk top and a low hum vibrated the air. The opacity in the pipe swirled for a moment before clearing. Hanging in the pipe they saw a round ball with brown, white, green and blue markings over it. The ball hung against a black background.
‘A map?’ Maressa and Gan spoke together.
‘No. An image of this world seen from far beyond your skies.’
Ren walked right round the pipe, studying the image within it.
‘How do you make such an image appear in here?’
‘There are Ships still orbiting Kel-Harat, some sadly are dead, but some still function to an extent. They relay the picture of this world back to me here. Look, I can magnify the image for closer examination.’
Kertiss tapped at the buttons again and Tika felt her stomach lurch as she had the sensation of rushing closer to the ball in the pipe. Kertiss glanced up and tapped another button. The ball was enlarged enough now that it completely filled the pipe. He raised his hand to point at what the companions finally recognised were mountains clustered towards the right upper part of the ball.
‘That is your City of Gaharn.’ Kertiss smiled, his finger jabbing again at the desk.
Once more they seemed to rush closer until they really could see mountains, then trees, farms, then – stars above! – the Lady Emla’s House! Closer still and figures moved. Gan’s face was white: he recognised the formation of a squad of Guards escorting the Lady herself. Another click on the desk and the image vanished, the humming ceased and the pipe slowly clouded again. Ren broke the silence.
‘Can you see what is happening in my land of Drogoya?’ he asked Kertiss.
‘Unfortunately no. For over a millennia there have been odd conditions in the atmosphere over nearly all of that land mass. Wave transmissions have thus been severely impeded.’
They didn’t understand half of Kertiss’s words but they caught the gist of his meaning.
‘You spoke of dead or damaged Ships,’ Tika queried. ‘Where are they then – floating high in our skies?’
‘Much higher than that, in a holding orbit. Orbiting means going endlessly round this world,’ Kertiss explained with noticeable impatience.
‘So this is your work: spying on the people of our lands.’ Sket was scarcely polite.
Kertiss raised an eyebrow. ‘I showed you that image as a simple example. We rarely bother to watch your activities.’
‘Then why are you here?’ Navan asked.
Kertiss turned away, wandering along a wall of desks. ‘There were reasons that a group of Ships had to leave our home world. Kel-Harat is on a spiral arm of the Repsian Galaxy – not an overcrowded region but neither is this world too solitary. It would take our enemies a very great deal of time and energy to stretch their search so far.’
Kertiss turned back to face Navan. ‘Kel-Harat had been briefly surveyed and registered as a restricted world requiring no contact at the time of the survey. It was classified as low pop, low tech and, conveniently for us millennia later, the survey report was lost in bureaucratic files until we found it by chance.’
‘Low pop, low tech?’ asked Maressa.
‘Low human population, low technological achievement. Technology is all this.’ Kertiss gestured round the room. ‘Machinery that does the fundamental tasks leaving us free to concentrate on innovative experiment in many fields. Your technological development has only reached the lowest steps towards our level. You can work metal for example – that is the beginnings of technology.’
Seela eased her bulk back onto her haunches.
‘These – things – you can make are all very well, but your minds have little of the strength that ours do – for example.’
Tika glanced at the purple Dragon but Kertiss seemed oblivious of the sarcasm. He shook his head.
‘You may be able to do a few tricks with your minds but nothing of that sort compares with our technology.’
