Helix (43 page)

He
reminded himself that there was ritual to observe. It was all very well
considering the future and his place in it, but that was immaterial: what
mattered now was that he conduct himself with propriety; he was, after all, the
ambassador of the Calique.

A
dozen acolytes dismounted, from the three following sharls, moved around the
clearing in the prescribed semicircle and seated themselves. They were the
finest pupils of the mountain, with Sela seated immediately to his right.

He
gazed across the clearing, hardly daring to believe that the day had come. The
Fallen were a curious species. They were tall and bulky and slow moving, with
oddly flattened faces and strangely textured skin, without scales; their flesh
reminded Pharan of the raw meat that lay beneath his scales, which he had seen
only once following an accident. How must they live from day to day, he
wondered, with no outer protective covering?

As
he watched, the four tall beings were joined by two small, furred creatures
that resembled nothing so much as gerekos, the mischievous tree-dwelling
creatures that inhabited the forest. They left the golden ship and hurried
across to the taller beings.

Then
one of the tall Fallen left the group and, with painful exactitude, stepped
towards Pharan.

He
glanced right and left, and only when he was satisfied that the acolytes had
arrayed themselves in the symbol of holy munificence—the stylised cup of the
Creator—did he step forward and raise a hand.

He
spoke his name, and welcomed the Fallen to Calique.

The
spokesperson of the Fallen spoke his language, though inexpertly. “I am,” an
unintelligible sound, “and my friends and I come in peace.”

Pharan
gestured, excitement mounting in his thorax, and then informed the spokesperson
that it was his duty to lead the Fallen to the Sleeper.

The
Fallen spokesperson listened, and then inclined its head slowly. It turned and
spoke to its fellows in a low, slow language that Pharan found hard to conceive
might possibly convey the necessary information.

Pharan
dropped into a squat, which a day ago might have caused him pain; he felt
nothing now but exultation.

The
spokesperson sat down, crossing its thick limbs. Slowly, cautiously, the others
joined it and sat down to either side. Last of all came the furry creatures,
which dropped into squatting positions and stared at him with huge dark eyes.

The
spokesperson said, “You spoke of the Sleeper. Please tell us more.” Its grasp
of the language was rudimentary, and hesitant, but by concentrating fully
Pharan understood its meaning.

It
was written in the scriptures that the Fallen, when at last they arrived on
Calique, might be ignorant of their mission. The scriptures claimed that the
Fallen might even be ignorant of the Sleeper, and the grand saga of the Sleeper
and the Caliquans.

It
was Pharan’s noble duty to enlighten these strange beings.

“Many
thousands of cycles ago,” he began, “the Sleeper did fall to earth aboard a
magnificent jewelled vessel; I say the Sleeper, though of course he was not
known as the Sleeper then...”

Pharan
proceeded with the story, as it was laid down in the scriptures.

The
jewelled vessel was seen first by a lone acolyte meditating upon the
mountain-top, who reported seeing a fiery coal descend from heaven and come to
rest in the forest, three days north of the phrontistery. The Venerable at the
time, one esteemed Baraqe, had foreseen the event in the stones, though further
casting had failed to impart what future events might lie beyond the fiery coal’s
arrival.

He
sent out a caravan consisting of his wisest teachers and a dozen of the finest
acolytes, and three days later they reached the place where the coal had
landed.

They
were amazed to find not some nub of meteorite but a complex vessel studded with
winking jewels, though the vessel had suffered on impact: its skin was dented,
many of its jewels lost, and oily smoke issued from within the craft. As they
watched, a hatch opened, and a strange beast staggered forth and collapsed upon
the ground.

Their
first reaction was revulsion, for the beast was hideous in the extreme; but
revulsion was swiftly followed by compassion, for was not the beast one of the
Creator’s creatures, and in need of succour?

The
being was injured, bleeding badly, its limbs shattered, and suffering who knew
what terrible internal injuries? With much effort, for the creature was twice
as tall and three times as heavy as the largest Caliquan, they managed to ease
it onto the back of a sharl and made their way back to the phrontistery.

For
the next cycle the teachers and acolytes of the mountain nursed the creature
back to almost full health. Through much of its bedridden recuperation, it was
attended by an acolyte name Heth, who as well as ministering to its physical
needs, undertook to guide its spiritual welfare too.

To
this end, Heth taught himself the creature’s language, and spoke of the
scriptures, and the supreme Creator of all that the universe contained.

It
was from Heth that the story of the creature entered the scriptures and came to
be passed down the generations.

There
were no terms for many of the creature’s more technical words, for the
Caliquans were not a mechanical, tool-wielding race, and therefore much of what
the creature told Heth was translated with approximate phrases and words.

The
creature—its true name was too complex for Heth to transliterate—was one of a
team of world-menders, that is, beings who moved about the helix with the duty
of restoring what was not perfect. There were many worlds on the helix, and
over the multiple cycles of their existence, things became worn, mountains lost
soil, rivers dried up, food trees died. The team of noble world-menders moved
from world to world around the helix, ensuring that all was perfect,
harmonious. They also aided the many races of the helix, in many ways. It was a
fine profession, which brought much prestige to those who carried it out.
However, one day as the world-mender was going about its business, a fault
developed in the interior of the creature’s jewelled vessel—perhaps its heart
failed, or its brain suffered fever; at any rate, the vessel fell from the
skies and crashed upon the soil of Calique.

According
to scripture, the creature, when well enough to regain its feet, returned to
the vessel and inspected it, and decreed it dead; he mourned its passing, for
he could not leave the planet now, nor could he communicate with his fellow
world-menders.

However,
there was hope that one day he might be reunited with his kind.

He
took Heth, accompanied by Heth’s teacher, into the jewelled vessel and showed
them a long object, very much like a passing box in which acolytes and teachers
alike were placed before burial. The creature explained that he would place
himself within the box, and sleep for many cycles, and tell the box to wake him
only when another craft fell from the skies to the soil of Calique. He
instructed Heth to tell his people to watch the skies, and, when a vessel fell
to earth, to be on hand to guide the Fallen to where he slept. Then he would
awake and be returned to his people, via the craft of the Fallen.

That
was the story according to Heth, which was recorded in the scriptures, and
which brought great merit to the people of Calique, for to aid a strange
creature in its hour of need, without thought of gain or benefit to oneself,
was the finest act a being could accomplish.

Pharan
recounted the story to the strange, longhaired spokesperson of the Fallen, who
leaned forward and listened intently, from time to time turning slightly to
relay the account to its fellows, who evidently did not understand the language
of Calique.

“And
so, now, it is my duty to lead you to the Sleeper,” Pharan finished
triumphantly.

The
spokesperson made a gesture with its head, which Pharan found unusual. It spoke
to its fellows, two pinky-brown creatures and one as black as a gourd, and they
all spoke together, with what might have been called animation if the term
could be applied to creatures who moved with great lethargy.

The
spokesperson faced Pharan, and asked, “I take it that the Sleeper was of the
race that was responsible for the building of the helix.”

Pharan
listened well, and worked out the clumsy words, and said, “We do not know
whether the Sleeper belonged to the beings known as the Constructors. This was
not recorded by Heth.”

The
spokesperson moved its head again, and said, “If the Constructors sent out
world-menders, then did the Constructors themselves dwell on a world that was
part of the helix?”

Pharan
thought through the question and replied, “The scriptures surmise that this is
so, but which world exactly is a secret known to none.”

The
spokesperson spoke to its fellows, and its words caused much excitement among
the slow-moving creatures. Each one of them had something to say, even the
small furry creature, though in a language faster than the honey-flow tongue of
the tall ones.

At
length the spokesperson turned to Pharan and said, “We would be honoured to be
taken to the Sleeper. With good fortune we might be able to assist in his
return to his own people.”

The
very idea sent a shiver of excitement through Pharan. He said, “Then all is
agreed. If it is convenient, we shall leave immediately.”

The
spokesperson conferred with its people, and again much debate was entered into.
At last it spoke to Pharan, “We have decided that two of us shall accompany
you. The others must remain and work upon various repairs to our ship.”

Pharan
gestured, and spoke to his acolytes, relaying the joyous information that their
mission was to continue to the shrine of the jewelled vessel.

But
first, said the spokesperson, its people must eat.

Pharan,
curious as to the feeding habits of these strange people, stood beside his
sharl and watched as one of the Fallen stepped into the rainforest and returned
some minutes later bearing fruit in its arms. This bounty it placed before the
spokesperson, evidently in some form of ritual. While all the Fallen looked on
intently, the spokesperson tasted first the greer fruit, then a shod-berry,
followed by a kurl. It ate slowly, very deliberately, speaking to its fellows
as if discussing the merits or taste of each fruit.

Then
they waited, staring at the uneaten fruit on the ground, and Pharan wondered at
their strange rituals.

Perhaps
five minutes later the spokesperson turned to the others, and moved its head
again, and stretched the lengths of skin that surrounded its mouthpiece, and
the others made odd low repetitive noises and fell upon the fruit and devoured
it quickly, or as quickly as these slow-movers were able.

Pharan
watched it all, for soon he would make his observations known to Venerable
Kham, and then write up his experiences, and perhaps with luck the events of
his final days might find their way into the inviolable texts of the sacred
scriptures.

Five
minutes later the spokesperson announced that the chosen two were ready to
leave the clearing. These two included the spokesperson itself and a Fallen not
unlike the spokesperson, in that it was the same shape and shade and had the
same dark substance growing long upon its head.

As
they mounted the sharl, the spokesperson— after exchanging words with the black
Fallen—asked Pharan if they might encounter any dangerous animals while on the
trek north, to which Pharan replied that Calique was not a world of danger.

They
set off, though not before the second Fallen who would make the pilgrimage
first embraced— and joined mouthpieces—with one of the Fallen who was to remain
behind.

Then
Pharan mounted his sharl, and gave the order for the trek to resume, and as
they left the clearing and plodded north through the forest, he gave thanks to
the Creator for the wonder he was experiencing.

Hendry watched the
strange procession leave the clearing. Sissy and Carrelli rode upon the first
animal, while the alien who had introduced himself as Watcher Pharan rode upon
the second. Two further animals, each bearing six insectile lizards, brought up
the rear.

There
had been a heated debate as to who should accompany Carrelli to the tomb of the
Sleeper. The medic had suggested first that Hendry join her, but Sissy had
objected to that, stating in no uncertain terms that she had no desire to be
left behind with a couple of aliens and Olembe. At that, Olembe had volunteered
to accompany Carrelli himself, which Carrelli vetoed on the grounds that they
needed someone to remain behind to work on the ship. By a process of
elimination, Sissy had found herself dragooned into making the trek.

“Can’t
you go by yourself, Gina?” Sissy had asked.

Olembe
laughed. “Lovesick already?”

Carrelli
intervened. “It makes sense to go in pairs. These people seem friendly enough,
but all the same they are aliens. Joe, you work on the ship with Friday, okay?”