The Chronicles of Jonathon Postlethwaite: The Seed of Corruption (11 page)

                            The Tallman was a minor telepath, but Jonathon could have  escaped  him  easily.  Slowly,  and  a  little reluctantly,  Jonathon  began  to  break  the  contact.  The Tallman felt the ease with which Jonathon was escaping from his psychic grasp. He became strangely agitated, afraid of losing this contact.

“Please,  please  do  not  go,  I  mean  you  no  harm." he  pleaded. “Please, my friend, who are you?"

                            Jonathon ceased his mental withdrawal to give him enough time to delve deep into the mind of his contact. There was no malice, no hidden emotion behind his words, his soul was open to inspection. He found no reason to fear this soul who was confused and filled with fear and guilt.

The Tallman, unable to establish whether Jonathon was still in touch, made another impassioned plea.  “Listen, whoever you are, I need to speak to you."

He hesitated, awaiting a response and then, almost reluctantly, continued. The Tallman attempted desperately to establish contact on his own terms, yet was defeated by Jonathon's  superior  abilities,  but  Jonathon  had  sensed

sincerity in  the  Tallman's  words  which  tempted  him to  reply. He spoke again.

“I have waited so long for one of you again, please answer me!"

                            Jonathon was moved by the genuine and immense despair he felt in the Tallman as he sat  unable  to locate his contact from his position in the high tower. It would do no harm to speak, Jonathon thought, as long as the Tallman did not know his location. But he was still wary, so he withdrew.

He severed the contact brutally, letting the Tallman know how strong he was, and then tried another cloaked approach which would not allow the Tallman any chance of locating him as he had been trying to do before.

                            Satisfied of his safety, Jonathon spoke, the words arriving in the Tallman's head as if from nowhere, untraceable. He was shocked. He had felt  Jonathon's easy and powerful disengagement and now he spoke, his transmission completely disguised.

“I’m Jonathon, who are you." he replied to the Tallman's request for identification.

                            A relieved happiness welled up in his contact, his emotions causing him to transmit words of his own language completely beyond comprehension to Jonathon. Then he gained control again.

“I am called Rislo, Jonathon. Where are you, I cannot feel your presence are you near?”

Jonathon listened, but was wary of a trap, perhaps all the Tallmen had such abilities as this Rislo. Perhaps they were waiting now for him to give away his position.

                            He quickly scanned the nearest tower to see if the Tallman there was aware of their telepathic conversation. He was not, his mind idled, pictures, emotions, thoughts bubbled, ebbed and flowed on its surface. Jonathon delved no deeper.

Rislo continued, eager for contact.

“Are you there Jonathon? Please do not be afraid, it is so long since I spoke to one of you."

“One of us?” Jonathon repeated. “There are others?" Unintentionally  Jonathon  directed  his  thoughts  to  Rislo who replied promptly to please his contact.

“Yes, there were others. But it has been so long. It has been almost sixty years since I spoke to their leader, Cornelius, he was the last contact I had."

Jonathon shivered. Cornelius? Of course there were others of that name in this city of millions. But another with the powers that his Grandfather had possessed and he  had passed on to his Grandson? The odds were shortening.

There was a sure way to find out.

“Rislo, did this Cornelius have anther name?" he queried.

There was a short silence whilst Rislo attempted to recall the human's surname.

“Yes, his clan name I presume, he never used it much and is difficult to remember." the Tallman went silent for a moment.

" Po-sill-tate perhaps, no, Posil-thwaite, yes, Postle- thwaite. " Rislo seemed pleased that he had been able to remember the alien human name.

                            Jonathon was stunned, his Grandfather had been here all those years ago. But it all began to fit into place. Questions began to be answered - how his Grandfather had known the Whisperers - and why they had readily accepted Jonathon as one of them when Cornelius had decided it was time to leave this foul world. Hadn't the Tefkin said that there used to be many of the roof top dwellers like himself, Milly and Dale ? Gradually the city had swallowed all them up. His Grandfather had been one of them too, sixty years ago. A cold, twinge of grief rose up in Jonathon again, the memories of the last moments before he had left his Grandfather's protection rose to the surface of his mind.

                            He quickly recovered, for the years had numbed the pain and he had become absorbed in the mystery of this coincidence - here he was in contact with the same Tallman as Cornelius had been in the distant past. It was too much of a coincidence perhaps, had his motives been the same?

                            He  spoke  to  Rislo  intent  upon  unravelling  this mystery. " Rislo, Cornelius was.......was one of us, but he's gone now.....what did he want when you spoke with him?" Jonathon omitted to mention his blood relationship with Cornelius,  but  felt  that  it  may  have  confused  Rislo's response and shrouded the object of his Grandfather's mission  here  in  a  web  of  emotion.  Rislo  responded eagerly.

“He and his kinsmen wanted to speak to the Elders. I being merely a soldier in their service could not help. We are too lowly to speak to them. Cornelius wanted to ask the Elders to visit the city to see what a terrible place it was, and to change it, bring order and return to morality; yes, morality was the word he used."

Rislo seemed to give little importance to his last answer, he seemed more concerned with Cornelius's other plans. He continued.

“Did he find his portal Jonathon and leave, was the one I found suitable. Did they all leave or is my friend here still here, we meet again perhaps?"

Jonathon was now sure of the Tallman's sincerity, he could read it in his mind so easily and here also was his secret; he had attempted to help Cornelius.

                            Rislo was a soldier alone amongst his own people. He was an odd man out, his special gifts and reclusive personality made him different and so disliked by his comrades. But there was something else. Rislo attached a special importance to his relationship with Cornelius, he had invested hope in him. Despite the grief that he knew the news of his Grandfather's death would bring to the lonely Tallman, Jonathon decided to tell him. He could not hold it back from him.

" Rislo, I must tell you this - Cornelius - my Grandfather is dead and there are only a few of his friends still alive......I'm sorry Rislo."

                            A dreadful silence followed. No more words filled Jonathon's mind from the Tallman. Only Rislo's pain. Abruptly their contact had ceased and Jonathon, mindful of the shock and grief which was rising in Rislo, withdrew from his mind, withdrew out of respect  for  the Tallman's emotional privacy.

                            Rislo retreated into himself out of the shock of Jonathon's statement. All the hopes he had built over the years, waiting for Cornelius's return were shattered. Hopes and dreams which Jonathon knew little of, or the importance they had for his own mission.

                            High up in his brightly lit tower Rislo wept. Cornelius had been a good friend, although the two had never met. Through their shared telepathic gift they had been closer than many people could ever be. They had shared their lives, their memories, their hopes and dreams and had remained friends even when Rislo had refused to help Cornelius in the one way that he could.

                            He had thought his human friend mad and desperate when he had revealed the nature of this request. But now Rislo had come to know that Cornelius's answer to the corruption of Dubh was  the only  one.  Now  that  Cornelius  was  dead   he   could not give his assistance to him even though, during the years of waiting for his return, the Tallman had changed his mind. But now he could help his Grandson.

                            As Jonathon waited for Rislo to voluntarily re- establish contact, Jonathon explored the roof tops above the domes of the Hall of Machines. All along the edge of the Tallmens’ citadel, the open pavement stretched as far as Jonathon could see. The sentry towers stood tall and menacing, their height changing subtly, they pulsated, as if they were in fact alive. Occasionally a bright searchlight would lance through the darkness of the roof top domes, seeking out any trespasser who lurked there.

Several times Jonathon had to drop to his knees to avoid them, heart pounding, the continual vigilance tiring him. Slowly and carefully he made his way back to the place where he had concealed himself to speak to Rislo before. Something had changed, he noticed as he approached.

                            Half the illumination of Rislo's tower had been extinguished, the absence of the lights creating an inky finger of deep shadow which stretched across the security zone and up onto the domes of the Halls of Machines.

Jonathon crept into the concealing shadow and waited for the Tallman to make contact, if he ever would. Just as he felt that he would not, a voice spoke inside his head.

“Look below friend, down in the shadow." A pale hand betrayed the Tallman's presence down below in the deep shadow close to the wall of the Halls of Machines. Rislo urged Jonathon to him.

“Quickly, come down before they correct the lights, I have something you must see, something Cornelius wanted from me."

                            Jonathon moved swiftly to the building's edge, dropping down quickly into the darkness below. His steel clawed gloves and iron wedged boots made his descent down the crumbling brickwork easy. When he reached the bottom of the wall and crouched on the great paving stones, Jonathon could not see the Tallman anywhere, but a voice from almost under his feet startled him.

“Here Jonathon" Rislo hissed.

A large, elongated head emerged from beneath a stone trapdoor. Essentially human, Rislo's head was covered by a thick long mane of shining red hair, his long face terminating in a lantern jaw and a small mouth. Two large, emerald eyes sat astride a broad nose.

“Quickly Jonathon! Down here before my comrade directs his searchlight in this direction again." he whispered urgently. Jonathon moved toward Rislo and half dropped, half fell into the trapdoor's aperture. The Tallman reached up and pulled the stone slab back into position, plunging their pit into total darkness as a search light beam swept over them.

                            He heard his new acquaintance rustling through his pockets before a light, increasing gradually in intensity, illuminated the small chamber enough to allow them to see one another.

                            Standing upright, Jonathon's head touched the ceiling above him. Opposite him, Rislo crouched, his shoulders, hunched against the roof. Jonathon was tall at around six feet, taller than most of the stunted inhabitants of the city. Rislo, if he were standing upright, would tower at least two feet above him.

The soft light from the glass orb Rislo held before him lit his long face, revealing his tear reddened eyes, but he smiled.

“We are 'Tallmen' indeed, yes? " he chuckled, responding to Jonathon's facial reaction to his size. “Yet I am considered small for my race, a ‘runt’ they call me." he waved a long, slender finger around the small chamber in which they stood.

“Cornelius and I spoke often of the City's demise and he asked me, finally, how it could be destroyed."

                            Rislo squatted low and peered into the orb's soft warm light. His  eyes lifted to meet Jonathon's apologetically. “But you must understand, I could not help him then. We  Tallmen,  at  that  time,  spoke  sincerely of putting things  right."  he  sighed  deeply  and  shook his head, his long, red locks brushing his cheeks. “But now they have been infected by the same malign spirit which masters the humans of Dubh, the place has become fouled, souls diseased. There is no honour here now. For me to stay here will  mean  the  darkening  of my soul too Jonathon. Now I will help in the way Cornelius asked, before I leave this place – if you still want that help?" he looked into the human's surprised eyes.

                            Jonathon had taken in the giant's statement and the implications that the offer of help had for his own goals, but was still taking in the Tallman's appearance. He was surprised at his youthful appearance, he knew that he had last spoken to Cornelius at least sixty years ago. His curiosity forced him into questions.

“How old are you Rislo?"

The question did not surprise the Tallman, despite the change of subject. " Two hundred and seventy of your years, a relative youngster, such longevity is natural to we `Tallmen' as you call us, and it is that longevity that has allowed our Elders to class human beings here as a lower form of life, a lesser order to be used to our ends." he sneered in disgust. “Our beloved, respected Elders, whose virtues decline year after year, are becoming as corrupt and as despicable as the forces that really rule this world." he paused and shook his head. “That is why I am giving you the means to unhinge this realm, Jonathon, the gift I denied your Grandfather.