02 Quetzals Flock

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
The Tepe Eridos walked on the purple sands of Jubal, enveloped in the thermal security of his Kous.
The shore was deserted, stretching interminably into the heat haze. A sullen, black ocean lapped the
land. It held death for the unwary in its oily depths. At times, an enquiring tentacle would break the
surface, gleaming livid pink in the blood-red light of the monster sun. Eridos was alert to the danger,
aware that the Krain could sweep a man or an unwary Picun from the ocean edge.
CHAPTER 1
For an infinitesimal moment, The Keeper revisited his domicile world to
refocus his power and then plunged outward again. This time his journey was shorter,
only to where the great spiral arms joined the concentrated pulse of a thousand million
stars around the central core of the galaxy.
He surged through the fiery halo of a monstrous red giant and onward, to its
solitary, massive planet. On a shoreline of purple sand, which skirted the blackness of
a turbulent ocean, time and space ebbed and coalesced to the epoch he sought.
A solitary walker kicked purple dust with purposeful strides. The Keeper gave
him a waking dream, for the walker had not slept for a thousand of the years of the
next planet that the Keeper was to visit.
.....
The Tepe Eridos walked on the purple sands of Jubal, enveloped in the thermal
security of his Kous. The shore was deserted, stretching interminably into the heat
haze. A sullen, black ocean lapped the land. It held death for the unwary in its oily
depths. At times, an enquiring tentacle would break the surface, gleaming livid pink in
the blood-red light of the monster sun. Eridos was alert to the danger, aware that the
Krain could sweep a man or an unwary Picun from the ocean edge.
He knew that his destiny was not to be a meal for the Krain. His destiny was
vengeance, a vengeance so sublime that he would savour it for the rest of the long day
before he was allowed to sleep through the interminable night. He always had in his
mind's eye the objective of his revenge. Others of his Gens might imagine that it was
the total annihilation of the Gens Obeid but it was not so, no matter how worthy an
cause that might be.
The origin of the Enmity and the Battle was lost in the dawn of their coming to
Jubal. The two half tribes went through the motions of the vendetta; the occasional
raid or skirmish; the manoeuvring of the herds to prevent the other side from gaining
the best pasture. Blood letting was expected of both Tepes - but his blood feud was
with one person, even though the Gens Obeid was heavily involved.
He had not visualised with such a clarity for a very long time. So, when the
face of his enemy was before him in his waking thoughts - the insolent, grinning face
- and when the slim figure walked along the shore towards him, the immediate
reaction from Eridos was to reach under his Kous for his sword, half drawing it. He
was slightly astonished at the bravado of his enemy, but then, he who dared to call
himself father of Hammadi, had always been an upstart exhibitionist.
Eridos looked around quickly, suddenly suspicious that the men of the rival
Gens might be lurking in the Schwarm bordering the purple dunes. Surely, the
arrogant fool had not come unattended? The dunes were empty and when he looked
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back, his enemy had also vanished. Eridos paused and stood upright from the
crouching position he had adopted. He pushed home his sword in its sheath and
uttered a sharp laugh of self-derision. Was his desire, his thirst for revenge, leading to
this? Was he now subject to waking nightmares in which he imagining Kane Ashford
to be walking towards him?
Eridos turned and strode back towards his encampment, and his Body
Companions, those who always secretly attended their Tepe in his lonely walks,
trailed him watchfully, hidden by the great shifting dunes and the dense foliage of the
Schwarm.
.....
Kane's coming to Jubal had been as he had seen in his nightmares. It had been
Taxila who had walked off the jutting rock and away from his Children, the Lynxe. He
had walked away from Maia and his unborn child. He had taken the Bole in one hand
and had clutched the wrist of Danyk, his Brother of the Image, with the other. He
wore the Pentacle which carried the image of the thin featured man. He had expected
his destination to be the sombre world he had seen in his dreams, but nothing could
have prepared him for what he experienced.
His tunic sucked to his body and he started to pour with sweat. It was
ferociously hot, it was like walking into the Old Earth concept of Hell. Kane looked
around - Danyk was gone! The shoreline was deserted and although he looked around
the outline of the natural rock arch into which he had arrived, Danyk was nowhere to
be seen. Kane felt panic rising, he had counted on having Danyk with him.
Apparently, the Masters of Psi had other plans.
He tried to calm down and sheltered within the little shade provided by the
arch. He needed to get his bearings. The black ocean was beyond. It rolled like oil,
turgid, almost unclean. It was uninviting. Above him was a red sky in which hung
motionless, heavy, aluminium-hued clouds. They looked like vast, lazy thunderheads,
poised to unleash some hellish precipitation which might not even be water.
Commanding the whole scene was an enormous, oblate spheroid. It was an
ancient sun, whose surface was varicosed with vein-like streaks meandering across its
bloated surface. It was wine-red and the bruised veins were a deep purple. On the
other side from the ocean, the shore rose slightly to sand dunes. Near the summit of
them began some sort of growth. His eyes couldn't pick the colour. He was confronted
with only one end of the spectrum. All the blue end, with green and yellow, was
missing. Everything was red or pink, or so deeply coloured, that it appeared to be
black.
He picked up the Bole and decided not to risk it getting bogged in the purple
sand. He had always complained that it weighed a ton, now, with the obvious increase
in gravitation, he was quite certain it did! He found it hard to breath and his heart
started to labour before he was half way up the slope of the dune. The powdery sand
shifted under his feet and he wondered if he was making any progress. He had to
pause and applied techniques which were used when someone who had been in space
for a long time, returned to the heavy gravity of Mars or the Moon. This world was
much bigger, he weighed much heavier, he knew he would have to be careful not to
do himself permanent damage.
The sand was more like talc, soft and purple. It oozed through his toes and
filled his open sandals. He looked back, already his tracks were becoming indistinct,
as the hot breeze skimmed the surface. He had no plan, other than to get away from
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the black ocean and to see what lay on the other side of the dunes. He took stock of
himself. The inner person, who had been Taxila on Lynxe, was laying dormant, well
content for Kane Ashford to meet the challenges of this new world.
No doubt, the Masters of Psi were still calling the shots and had some purpose
in dumping him on such a godforsaken chunk of stellar real estate. Kane had no idea
of the next move, he would continue to walk until the night came, or circumstances
otherwise changed. In the morning light, he would reassess the situation. It was hard
to tell the time of day. The red star rested on the horizon. It could have been evening,
or it might have been the dawn.
He reached the crest of the dunes and paused in dismay. The terrain beyond,
was an unbroken expanse of sand and low scrub, which stretched to the distant
horizon. There was no shelter from the ferocious heat. His tunic clung to his flesh in
the intense humidity. His hair stuck to his face in rat tails. He pushed it back and
wished he'd had a haircut.
Once again, he toyed with the thought of activating the Bole and letting it find
its own way. It seemed to be getting heavier with every step. He shelved the idea
reluctantly, he couldn't trust it to shamble along on its spindly mandibles. It would
probably sink up to its non-existent armpits in sand and some might even get inside.
The resultant aberrations were too terrible to contemplate. Of one thing he was sure,
he didn't want the task of digging it out of a sand trap.
He continued to toil through the dunes, the only difference being that he kept
the ocean within view. He was making the sort of progress one could expect - two
steps forward and one back. He topped another rise and paused to get his breath and
to take stock. The dune crest gave him a certain elevation, but it could hardly be
described as a ringside seat for the events which were taking place at the water's edge.
There were four men - at least, he took them to be men. They appeared to be
biped and also had two arms - if all the flailing about was anything to go by. They had
one head, situated in the most convenient place for a head. As for the rest of their
physiology, that was harder to tell. They were enveloped in great, voluminous cloaks,
which looked to be tied at the throat.
Three of them were trying to rescue a fourth from the clutches of something
quite hideous. Kane found it hard to describe, even to himself. The nearest he could
get was to equate it to a gigantic starfish - or perhaps, an octopus. It was difficult to
count the number of tentacles. They were very flexible and mobile. The three rescuers
spent a good deal of their time trying to keep out of the way of them, whilst the
luckless fourth had at least one twined around his body. He was hacking at it
desperately with a short sword or knife - he wasn't making much impression. Kane
could hear his shrieks. The other three were thrusting and hacking as the opportunity
presented itself.
The creature retreated into deeper water and the three hesitated. Kane could
see that they were not going to follow. They watched helplessly as their companion
was swathed in more whip-like tentacles. His screams grew more hoarse and then
stopped. The monstrosity dragged him beneath the surface. The other three turned
away from the water's edge, their shoulders slumped in dejection. One looked up in
Kane's direction and pointed.
There was a small conference between them and then they started to climb the
dune towards him. Kane began to feel a little nervous. He wished he had activated the
Bole, but it was already too late for defence measures. They made a much better job
of climbing the face of the dune than Kane. With surprising speed, they came within
striking distance. They were still flourishing the short swords with which they had
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attacked the creature in the sea. It might have been an act of belligerence, on the other
hand, they might have been trying to keep their balance on the shifting surface.
About three paces from him, they stopped, looked at him very closely and then
threw themselves to the ground. They buried their faces into the sand and remained
motionless. Kane raised an imploring eye to the red star and waited for inspiration.
None was forthcoming. He contemplated the three recumbent figures - they must have
had a hell of a time breathing with their faces in the purple talc. He tried
conversations in two languages - Solari and Lynxe.
"Greetings - I come in peace - "
He felt a surge of amusement within - so the bastard wasn't asleep! The
humour increased - the thought came.
"Mind talk, you cretin! Why do you think we spent time on Lynxe?"
The centre figure raised his head a fraction. Kane repeated the thought:
'Greetings, I come in peace'.
There was a response, it was vocal but it was thought as well.
"Hammadi greets you, my father!"
The three rose to their knees and shuffled forward until the centre one was in a
position to clasp him suddenly around the waist. Kane stood rooted to the spot, he
wasn't really in a position to do otherwise. He looked down at the dark head of the
man who clutched him. Hammadi turned his face upwards, he appeared to be
overjoyed.
"My father has returned to us - there will be much celebration in the tents of
the Gens Obeid!"
He was a man of about the same age as Kane, it seemed to preclude the
possibility that there was any physical connotations associated with the term 'father'.
Kane mentally articulated:
"Please rise - "
The three clambered to their feet. Hammadi continued.
"Urartu, the Master of Dreams, has instructed us to meet you, Great Lord."
One of the others whispered to him, not knowing that the thought came clearly
into Kane's mind.
"Is he really the one? - Is he really the Lord Quetzal?"
They looked at him with an increasing caution. The third one murmured.
"If it is the Lord Quetzal - he will carry it."
Hammadi turned and argued sharply.
"If he isn't the one - then who is he?"
Kane suddenly felt the Pentacle against his flesh beneath the tunic. He carried
two things - apart from the tunic and sandals. One was the Bole and the other was the
Pentacle. He drew it out from beneath the tunic and let it lay exposed. It gleamed in
the lurid light of their red star. They made no attempt to touch it, instead, they sank
down to their knees and then to their faces once again.
Kane sighed, he was slowly frying in the unrelenting heat. He was so thirsty,
he could have drunk the ocean dry and then still asked for more. All they seemed
capable of presenting to the world was their raised backsides. It wasn't conducive to
the holding of an intelligent conversation.
"I am very warm - and very uncomfortable."
The complaint had the desired effect. They scrambled to their feet once more.
Hammadi reached within his great cloak and produced a skin flask. He handed it to
Kane, who had sense enough to realise that it contained a precious ration of water
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which they didn't expect to be squandered. He resisted the urge to drain it and took
only a few sips. He handed it back and gave the man Hammadi a quick appraisal.
There was no doubt that he had come to the right place. They were about his
height, perhaps even a little taller. Hammadi's hood piece had fallen back. His hair
was long and straight and in the red light, it appeared to be dark rather than blond. His
ears were neither large nor small, but the lobes were almost absent. His face was
similar to that of the image contained in the exposed Pentacle, but he was not that
man. His nose was long and his eyes were steady and piercing. He could have been a
desert warrior who had once ridden to war on Old Earth.
Kane realised that Hammadi had been giving him an equally frank appraisal.
He smiled and was rewarded with a slight relaxation of the steely expression.
"Is it the wish of my Lord Quetzal that he accompanies us to the Master of
Dreams?"
It was the best offer Kane had received all day.
"It is my wish."
They gave the Bole a curious look. Kane didn't enlighten them about its
capabilities.
"It was a sad thing - the loss of your companion."
One of the others answered.
"He was only two."
"Two?"
"Two days old, Lord Quetzal."
Kane cautiously changed the subject.
"What do they call you?"
"I am Dagh, Lord Quetzal - and he is Motya."
They started moving deeper into the dunes, away from the ocean. Kane gave
one last look at the place where their companion had met his death. They had shown
little emotion, perhaps life was so tough on their world that the death of one man
meant nothing. He gave him a silent salute, after all, if he hadn't been one of the party
sent to meet Kane Ashford, he wouldn't have been a target for the monstrosity which
had dragged him to his doom.
It seemed to grow hotter, but it was more than likely imagination. Kane
wondered how his companions could stand wearing the enormous cloaks in which
they were enveloped. They moved with ease through the undergrowth and Kane
began to labour to keep up. He didn't think he could stand much more of the effort
which was being demanded of him. He was fast becoming a candidate for a coronary.
There was no sign of habitation and his heart sank when he contemplated the
prospect of walking to their destination. There was a pervasive, cloying smell, which
intensified as they pushed deeper into the undergrowth. It became a pungent, choking
stench. Hammadi and his companions didn't seem to mind it, they were searching for
something or someone. Hammadi kept uttering a peculiar hoarse whine. After a while,
it started to jangle the nerves. He explained solemnly.
"It's the mating call of the Picun. It's the only thing which will get them away
from the Schwarm."
Kane wasn't much wiser. The exercise continued. Hammadi's two companions
joined in and between them created enough noise to excite a whole herd into a sexual
frenzy. Not knowing what to expect, made Kane apprehensive. There was a thrashing
through the undergrowth and there suddenly appeared a strange looking monster,
travelling at a full gallop in its eagerness to make their acquaintance. Kane retreated
behind his three companions and tried to assess the newest aberration.
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The animal looked like a broad, chestnut coloured ox with a camel's head. It
had wide, cup-like feet, totally suited to the desert terrain. It looked upon them with
eager stupidity, as it careered into the clearing. It was male and looked as if it wanted
to prove it. Kane hoped it wasn't short sighted. Hammadi grinned delightedly.
"Never fails!"
Kane's heart sank - it was a near cousin to the Vix of Lynxe and looked about
as comfortable and as amiable.
Five other beasts arrived in quick succession - all were in a similar state of
excitement. A fight erupted between them and Hammadi and his two companions
found themselves acting as referees. Their method of attraction seemed to have its
drawbacks. A great deal of dust was raised, which didn't taste any better than it
looked. Hammadi looked at Kane anxiously, who tried to dismiss any critical
thoughts.
Hammadi led one of the quieter mounts forward, it had a mournful, cheated
look. Kane could sympathise. It had no saddle, although there was a harness of sorts.
It looked as if the idea was to leap on - and hang on. Hammadi looked at Kane's sweat
soaked tunic.
"I think my father will find that garment unsuitable."
It was the second time he had claimed paternity. Kane looked at him sharply.
This fellow was his own age - even allowing for the Masters of Psi's aptitude for
throwing people around in time, it didn't appear to be a viable possibility.
"I'm travelling light."
Hammadi turned and retrieved a pack which had been stowed to one side of
the clearing. He dusted off the purple results of the Picun fight, opened it and held up
a large cape.
"My Lord will find the Kous to be more suitable. Pjarl was a big man - it will
fit you."
"Pjarl?"
"Pjarl was our companion, Lord Quetzal."
The dead man's cloak was handed to Kane. He shuddered involuntarily, the
luckless Pjarl would have no further need of it. Kane started to swing it round his
shoulders. Hammadi stopped him.
"The other garment should be removed, Lord Quetzal."
Hammadi's face was expressionless. Kane slowly complied and reached again
for the Kous. The reception committee watched him with an unwavering gaze. There
was a kind of toggle fastening at the neck. It hung around him like a tent, down to the
ankles.
The method of mounting the Picun was explained by demonstration. It
amounted to laying across the beast's back and quickly swinging the legs over before
the stupid beast gathered its wits to move. Kane groaned mentally, apparently, the
local boys shunned the expedient of tucking their cloaks under them. It promised to be
an uncomfortable ride. They pulled up the hoods of the cloaks and he did the same.
Dagh and Motya had shown no inhibitions about strapping the Bole to one of the
spare animals - but then, they had no idea of its awesome capabilities. They were
ready to move off - to where, Kane had no idea.
They had been moving for a half hour or more, when he realised that he
wasn't warm anymore. He had resigned himself to the thought that he would cook in
the voluminous cloak - he was wrong - they were a perfect thermal protection. The
Picun were slow moving, but even so, the motion still provided a circulation of air.
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Their way led through a monotony of reddish-pink, sickly smelling foliage.
This was the Schwarm which the Picun found so attractive. It was a primitively
structured plant - just a single stem which supported twisted branches. From out of
these, fleshy leaves sprouted, together with what looked like gourds. One of them
exploded as he brushed past and smothered him in a dust of pink pollen. It made
enough noise to send his Picun skittering nervously. Between trying to control the
Picun and violently sneezing, it was some time before they could settle down to
resume their trek to the unknown destination.
CHAPTER 2
For the sake of something to do, he started to think about their days. The red
star hadn't moved since he had first sighted it. It was already some hours since he had
emerged from the arch. He was able to watch it as they travelled with its distorted
shape to one side of them. There had been no perceptible shift in its position, it hung
on the distant horizon, touching the sullen waters of the black ocean.
If it hadn't moved, there was other activity in the red sky. High above, soaring
in the currents, was something which was almost a speck. It was hard to make out.
Dagh noticed his interest.
"It is one of your Sentinels, Lord Quetzal."
Kane looked suitably blank.
"The ancient ones of our people, Lord."
It was said as if it explained everything - it didn't.
"Ah!"
They lapsed into silence, isolated in the cocoons of their cloaks. There was
nothing more to be seen but the red monotony of the heated landscape. It was a time
for memories. Kane felt a sudden hunger as he remembered Maia. He wondered what
immeasurable distance in time and space had opened, when he had walked into the
sky beyond Taxila's Leap and had touched his feet on the purple sands of Jubal. He
prickled with the realisation - he knew the name of this heat baked world which
circled the ancient red giant!
Hammadi drew back and rode parallel with him. He pointed upward. One of
the specks was much lower. Kane could see that it was a huge bird, although how
huge, was another question. It was lazily floating on the super-heated thermals rising
between the land and the ocean. It looked as if it was watching something below.
Kane was suddenly reminded of history tapes of the hawks of Old Earth, who
wheeled in the sky in search of their prey.
"The ancient one is guarding an egg-womb. It will be necessary to make a
detour."
Motya interjected.
"We never go near to an egg-womb."
It was the first time he had joined the conversation and he managed to sound
like a schoolboy who was eager to tell anyone within earshot, what a good boy he
was. Kane waited for more.
"The ancient ones show disfavour if we intrude."
Kane glanced at the great bird and decided not to ask the details of how they
showed disfavour. Hammadi led them to the left of their original path. It placed the
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red star behind them and they cast long shadows ahead of the Picun. The heat haze
made the images dance and it unsettled them. Kane's mount became skittish, Dagh
grabbed his bridle and managed to control Kane's mount as well as his own.
They travelled in a sweeping circle whose epicentre was where they judged
the egg-womb to be located. Kane would like to have seen it. He bowed to the
wisdom of his escort and their determination not to offend the 'ancient one'. A
complication arose before they could complete their semicircular detour. They were
now facing the star and the Picun were noticeably quieter. Hammadi held up his hand
and they halted.
"Myrc."
It sounded like a touch of indigestion.
"Myrc - as my Lord Quetzal is aware - is unforgiving. We must ensure that we
do not touch the Myrc plant with any part of our flesh."
Kane wasn't aware but he nodded. He was prepared to cover anything
suggested. They moved forward in a cautious single file. Hammadi was first, then
Kane and then Dagh. Motya brought up the rear, leading the spare Picun. Above the
noise of the wind which blew off the ocean, there was a harsher sound. The Schwarm
foliage had given way to something more silvery. It didn't move like the Schwarm. It
was rigid, almost petrified - yet, it was living. Like the Schwarm, it grew from a
single stem, but there were no leaves or gourds - it was all branches and twigs. There
were a few gnarled shapes on the branches, which might have been seedcases. In its
own way, it was very beautiful.
They moved into the paths between it cautiously. Kane followed Hammadi's
example and shrouded himself within the Kous. The Picun laid back their ears, they
didn't like it. Kane prayed that they didn't take fright, he would have no hope of
controlling an animal with ideas of its own. He assumed the plant was poisonous. The
wind gusted a little and two of the branches ahead of Hammadi shattered together.
There was a scintillation of lights, as the crystal structures fell to the ground.
Eventually, they emerged into the safer Schwarm. Hammadi halted and
allowed the Picun to graze.
"I've seen the unwary torn to shreds by a reckless ride through a Myrc forest."
"They must be almost pure silica."
His escort looked doubtful.
"Are they put to any use?"
Dagh answered.
"Without the Myrc, the ancient ones would never be able to renew. How
wonderfully have not the Masters of All, provided?"
It looked as if they had a homespun philosopher in their midst. His
companions nodded in solemn agreement. Kane changed the subject.
"When do you intend to camp?"
Hammadi looked startled.
"To camp, my father?"
"I'm getting tired, Hammadi!"
"Tired, Lord Quetzal?"
"Yes, tired! Also hungry - and my backside is numb!"
Hammadi looked at his two companions.
"As my Lord wishes. We have food if my Lord wishes to pause - "
"I do - for at least twelve hours."
"We do not understand the word hours, Lord Quetzal."
"What do your people call the divisions of the day?"
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"We have none, my Lord.
"Then - how do you tell someone when you want to meet them?
"By the heartbeat, Lord!"
Kane slid to the ground in an inelegant scramble. He glanced quickly at
Hammadi and could have sworn he saw a suppressed grin. His escort dismounted and
held a murmured conference. Kane looked again at the stationary star. They had no
divisions to the day, perhaps their day was much longer than that on Mars or Old
Earth. Perhaps, it was like the Moon - it had a duration of fourteen Old Earth days.
Even on the asteroids, they had maintained the biological day and night cycle. He
might be forced to do the same.
He was provided with a dubious looking hunk of something. Kane hesitated
but his hunger overcame any misgivings. It appeared to be hard tack, something dried
and shrivelled, which might have been animal or vegetable. He gnawed on it and
nearly broke his teeth. After a while, he managed to get something into his mouth by
sucking on it like a toothless granny. It turned out to be surprisingly good, if a little
monotonous.
He was offered a skin pouch and was eyed anxiously as he held it to his
mouth. It was like being invited into a household where they had little to offer and
hoped that they weren't entertaining a glutton. Kane took the hint and ate and drank
sparingly. Hammadi and his companions didn't share in the meal, they continued to
watch Kane gravely. It had an inhibiting effect and soon, Kane retreated into his cloak
and tried to make himself comfortable on the ground. Bedding wasn't offered.
Kane drifted into sleep, his last vision was of three motionless figures,
shrouded in their cloaks, with hoods pulled over their faces - perhaps it was their way
of resting. Kane slept because he was exhausted, if he had been to the slightest degree
mentally active, trying to sleep would have been a wasted effort. The star was still
radiating intense heat. There was no encouraging fading of the light and the coming of
darkness to tell him that it was time to rest. The strange, alien smell of the Schwarm,
was cloying, almost suffocating. There were a hundred reasons why he should find it
impossible to sleep - but he did.
He awoke to a sense of unreality. It took time to remember, instinctively, he
reached out for Maia - and then drew back his hand. The realisation of his loss was
almost a physical blow. His companions sat in the same position as when he had
dropped off to sleep. It would have been easy to mistake them for features of the
landscape. Only the wind stirring the folds of their Kous, betrayed the fact that they
were not rocks. He wondered if they had slept - something told him that they hadn't.
He tried to come to terms with what sort of people they were. If he had
thought the Lynxe were alien at times, it was nothing compared with dealing with a
race who didn't seem to need sleep and who apparently, never got tired. He knew he
was making assumptions, their physical bodies required replenishment and restoration
at some time. The problem was, that their times and his didn't appear to coincide.
Hammadi stirred and emerged from his cocoon.
"I trust my Lord Quetzal rested well?"
"Thank you - yes. Tell me. Is our destination much further?"
"We must travel heartbeats without number, my father."
Kane looked at the Picun who were browsing contentedly in the Schwarm.
Remounting and riding through the heat of their interminable day, was not an
attractive proposition. He wasn't offered more food or drink before they resumed their
ride. Kane looked at the red star, as far as he could tell, it hadn't moved. The
comparison with the Moon wouldn't go away, it was quite possible that he had arrived
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on a planet which always presented one hemisphere to the star around which it
orbited.
They continued across the monotony of the plain. It was slightly undulating,
just enough to raise hopes that there might be something worthwhile to see when they
topped the next rise. Even that hope was eliminated, all that was visible was a vast,
organic sea of Schwarm. Here and there, were tracts of silvery Myrc forest. High
above, spaced well apart, the Sentinels hovered over whatever they watched.
Hammadi kept a cautious eye on them, always ensuring that they avoided encroaching
on one of the mysterious egg-wombs.
His escort appeared to have a tremendous respect for the birds. Perhaps, it was
a caution bred from dangerous encounters in the past. He soon realised that it was
something more - it was almost a reverence.
Kane made them stop again when he judged sixteen hours had elapsed. It was
hard to estimate, but he knew he was exhausted, hungry and parched with thirst. The
red star had maintained its position throughout the day. Hammadi and his companions
didn't argue. They provided food once more and a few sips of the precious supply of
water. Kane curled up for a second sleep. They assumed the same posture as on the
previous occasion. He was aware that if he hadn't insisted on stopping, they would
have continued.
The pattern was repeated twice more. Kane tried a few rough calculations,
estimating that they travelled nearly two hundred kilometres a day, based upon his
guess that each riding period was of sixteen hours duration. Resentfully, he began to
wonder why the all knowing, omnipotent Masters of Psi had seen fit to dump him so
far from his destination. He had more to think about. How had his escort known how
to be in the right place at the right time? Who had sent them? Who was it that could
know he would arrive on their planet through a rough arch on an isolated stretch of
coastline, hundreds of kilometres from his destination? He confronted the sobering
thought that he might at last be coming face to face with his mysterious puppet
masters.
Zayez the All Wise had told him that they were the most ancient life-form
known in the universe. By the look of this planet's sun, it was also incredibly ancient.
May be this was their world - the world of the Masters of Psi!
Before they started on the fifth leg of their marathon journey, Kane put a few
questions to Hammadi.
"Where are we going."
He swivelled in his saddle.
"My father must surely remember the Crag Caverns?"
Kane suppressed his irritation. Experiences on Lynxe had taught him that he
was supposed to have been wandering the universe for millennia.
"I have no memories of my previous visit, Hammadi. So, we are going to the
Crag Caverns - What will we find there?"
He looked incredulous.
"Surely, my father remembers Urartu?"
"Urartu - what is a Urartu?"
"The Master of Dreams, Lord Quetzal."
Dagh yelped in response. Motya intoned:
"Who dwells in the deepest Cavern of all."
It was beginning to sound like a litany. Kane drew a ragged breath.
"You know the pattern of riding and rest I have established. By that pattern,
how many more times will I pause before we come to the Crag Caverns?"
10

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Hammadi exercised his mathematics.
"By that pattern, my father - once more."
Kane had to be satisfied with that. He was aware that the exchange had left
Hammadi a very puzzled man. Doubts were beginning to surface about who he
thought he had met. Kane hoped his luck would hold until they arrived at their
intriguingly named destination. Urartu, whoever he was, might know a great deal
more about who Kane Ashford was supposed to be in this incarnation.
In another sixteen hours, he repeated the pattern of rest. There had been no
change in the monotonous surroundings. There wasn't even the hint of anything which
could have remotely been described as a mountain range. In the terrain through which
they had ridden, even a molehill could have been construed as such.
At the start of the last period in the saddle, they were treated to an event which
did not add to the attractions of the planet. The ground started to shudder. Hammadi
and his two companions grinned at each other. The tremors became quite severe and
Kane made ready to dive from his Picun before he was thrown. There came a final
shudder which rattled his teeth. Hammadi said cheerfully.
"That was a strong one - it shows we're getting close to the Caverns!"
Kane protested.
"Don't tell me this happens regularly!"
"Surely, my father remembers when the ground shook and the rock which he
held, fell and crushed the Tepe Siyulk?"
There was an edge of wonderment. Kane nodded, not quite sure whether the
Tepe Siyulk was man or beast. He created a diversion by kneeing the Picun. When its
plunging was under control, they continued their journey. Several hours later, they
topped yet another of the interminable rises, but this time, there was something to see.
The ground sloped away into a kind of basin. It was a great hollow, the other
side of which he estimated to be fifteen kilometres distant. It was also quite deep with
a pronounced slope down to the floor. In the centre, were a series of squat needles
which rose abruptly. They were completely bare and almost black in the red light.
Around their base, the Schwarm had been cleared and replaced by cultivated fields.
Kane inspected the pinnacles. The whole area was unstable. The ground shook
persistently and from small fissures, there were occasional jets of what he took to be
steam. The whole area was thermal as well as being unstable. Whoever farmed the
cultivated area were stoically undaunted by the possibility that the ground under their
feet could erupt into seismic activity from one minute to the next.
The hollow was the worn down crater of a far from dormant volcano - and the
central pinnacles were the volcanic plug which blocked ancient vents. Kane knew he
was in for an unsettling period of residence and he wasn't made any happier by a
violent tremor. Hammadi turned and grinned in delight. He yelled:
"The stopper shakes in the bottle!"
Kane twisted his face into a wan smile and hoped the bottle would remain
closed whilst he was within a hundred kilometres. Their arrival released their
inhibitions, he found himself swept down into the crater in the centre of an escort who
whooped and screamed and generally raised hell, goading the stupid Picun into a
gallop. Kane presumed they scented the stables of their mates - the Picun, that is -
they caught the atmosphere of excitement, laid back their ears, pointed their nose to
the sky and started to scream in frenzy. Kane completed his journey hanging on to the
harness for dear life and trying to protect the more vulnerable portions of his anatomy.
In all, it was not the most elegant arrival, certainly not one which enhanced the image
of the Lord Quetzal.
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
The cultivated area had passed in a blur, he wasn't sure whether they passed
any of the population. They splashed through a ford and he had wits enough to realise
that this was the first water he had seen in over a thousand kilometres. They left the
ford behind and plunged on. Kane had visions of hurtling past the place with his Picun
in full command. Hammadi and his companions had different ideas. Once again, they
demonstrated their skills by reining in their own beasts and grabbing his harness as he
passed. They slowed to a respectable amble and came to a halt on a clear area of rock
at the base of the pinnacles.
Kane looked up and realised how deceptive they had appeared from the edge
of the ancient crater. They towered above the level of the clearing. He was right about
them being black. The rock was smooth, his professional interest was roused. They
were composed of a tight grained, granite-like rock, with no fissures or splits. It
would be very hard to work, but there were artificial openings at their base, leading to
the inside.
They dismounted in front of the central pinnacle. It was an unbroken shaft of
rock which towered above the others. By the time he had dismounted, they were
surrounded by a crowd of men and woman who had emerged from nowhere. They
stared at him without emotion. Hammadi called a greeting which was returned
without much enthusiasm. It was almost as if they were not welcome. Hammadi didn't
seem to be ruffled.
Dagh was loosening the ropes which held the Bole to the spare mount. The
Bole was deactivated, Dagh was in no danger. He placed it carefully in the dust. The
visiting party and the reception committee stood and stared at each other. No
comment was made about the absence of the fourth rider. Unless there had been some
sort of telepathic message, they could have had no idea of what had happened to him.
A old man, enveloped in a Kous, stepped out of the crowd and stood in front of Kane.
He bowed his head slightly.
"I bid you greeting, my Lord. You are welcome to the Caverns of the Crag."
Kane inclined his head. The old man continued.
"I am Nijah and I am a servant of the Master of Dreams. He has instructed me
to provide the comfort of an inner chamber and special facilities."
"I thank you for your greeting - and the hospitality of the Master of Dreams."
Nijah led the way through the silent group of onlookers who didn't seem any
more friendly than earlier. Kane picked up the Bole and swore silently at the weight.
They entered one of the openings in the base of the rock. Inside, there was a further
series of passages which inclined downward. Nijah took one, after a few paces, the
incline gave way to a flight of steps. The passage was quite high and wide enough to
permit easy access. The rock was as smooth as it had looked on the outside. They
must have used sophisticated tools to cut it and that implied a technology he wouldn't
have suspected.
They levelled out eventually into a broad gallery. It was a focal point of that
level. There were a number of passages leading off, some of which appeared to go
lower. The scene was lit by flaring torches of resinous wood, guttering from brackets
high in the walls.
The air was cool, he began to revive. The incessant heat had been enervating.
One thing worried him still, the ground continued to trembled, although nothing fell
from the roof. Perhaps, there was nothing left which was loose, only the roof itself
could come down.
Nijah led him further, through a series of passages to a small chamber. It was
high, even if the floor space was cramped. It had no door, just an arch of rock. There
12

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
was a pile of bedding and a stone shelf, which he identified as a table. Two niches
carved in the rock were to function as chairs. All in all, it was not the height of luxury,
so far as guest chambers went. Nijah was polite.
"I trust this will serve?"
Kane nodded and thanked him. He looked around again. So much for the
special facilities. He shuddered to think what the utility accommodation would be
like. Nijah awaited his pleasure.
"I'm very dirty and weary from the journey. I would like a bath."
His eyes widened perceptibly.
"There is a pool, Lord."
He sounded doubtful.
"Lead on!"
Nijah hesitated, looked as if he was about to object and then thought better of
it. Silently, he led the way through another series of passages on the same level, to the
entrance of a larger chamber.
CHAPTER 3
In the centre of the rock chamber was a sullen, black pool. It reminded him of
the distant ocean. Kane eyed it warily, there was no way of knowing how deep it was
and swimming wasn't one of his accomplishments. The surface bubbled infrequently,
it didn't add to his confidence. It looked hot enough to cook him. The place had a
sulphurous smell. Kane fumbled with the fastening of his cloak and let it drop to the
floor. Nijah had retreated to one side of the cavern and so, Kane was hardly prepared
for the reaction to his baring all - apart from the Pentacle hung from his neck. As he
turned to enter the pool, Nijah emitted a hoarse squawk and flung himself to the floor.
Kane paused - his unclothed form didn't usually produce that sort of effect on his
fellow man.
"I crave my Lord Quetzal's forgiveness! I was not informed. I have
blasphemed! May my Lord not strike me dead!"
Kane sighed, history was repeating itself!
"Please rise - I have no intention of striking you dead."
"My Lord is most generous."
Kane thought - and also incapable of doing so!
Nijah was quivering with fear.
"Am I to assume that this pool isn't good for bathing?"
Kane didn't wait for an answer, he picked up the cloak and swung it around his
shoulders. As soon as the Pentacle was safely hidden, Nijah relaxed a little.
"This pool is not suitable for the Lord of the Flock. For you, there are better
facilities!"
Kane shrugged.
"Whatever you say, Nijah - all I want to do is have a bath."
Nijah had recovered his poise. He bowed and backed out of the chamber and
led the way back to where the Bole had been deposited.
"My Lord will occupy other quarters."
Kane shrugged, picked up the Bole and followed without argument. They went
down another level in the warren. Nijah entered another series of rooms - they were a
markedly different to where Kane had first been deposited. The table and chairs were
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
wooden, hides covered the floor and the walls. Several smoky flares lit the main
room. Beyond it was a smaller room with a bundle of bedding - once again,
illuminated with flares. Attached, was a communal bathroom with several entrances.
It was empty, for which he was thankful. He was in no mood for an audience,
especially with the Pentacle suspended from his neck.
"I hope this is suitable for my Lord?"
Kane nodded and Nijah made a hasty exit. When Kane was sure he had
privacy, he dropped the cloak and tested the water with his toe - it was within
tolerance. He eased himself in and touched bottom. For the first time since he had
witnessed the battle with the sea monster, he was alone. He laid on his back and
wallowed in the luxury of the first bath he had had in days. He thought back over the
journey from the Arch. He had a moment of regret that he hadn't thanked Hammadi,
Dagh and Motya, but he sensed that their paths would cross again before he moved on
to his next destination in his grand tour of the universe.
He took his time in the pool. It was total indulgence to feel cool and clean and
he had no way of telling how long he would be allowed to enjoy the facilities. He
discovered that the water level remained constant although it was on the move. He
was too lazy to explore where it entered but guessed it was somewhere in the depths
and the overflow trickled off somewhere near the surface. The whole area was a
thermal nightmare, with steam rising through fissures from where water met the
molten heart of the still active volcano. Visions of a sudden eruption turned his
enjoyment into trepidation and he made a hasty exit.
He wondered how many thousands of years the crater had been inhabited.
Someone must have realised the potential and despite the risk, had set about
sculpturing the rock into living quarters. It was an ingenious way of escaping the
torrid heat of the red star. He had read enough about the development of stellar
material to know that the bloated star was approaching the end of a long cycle and
that soon there would be a cataclysmic change. The people of the planet must have
existed under the current conditions for countless generations. The only escape was to
go beneath the surface of their world - but their escape would be short lived on the
cosmic scale of things, because the changes their star would experience, would utterly
destroy Jubal!
Kane left a cascade of water on the rock floor and returned to his private
quarters. Rough cloths of unidentifiable material had been thoughtfully provided. He
dried himself and dressed again in the flowing Kous. He was hardly finished before
Nijah appeared once more, hovering just inside the entrance to the outer room. His
nervousness had returned.
"If my Lord pleases. My Lord, the Master of Dreams, wishes to greet you
personally. He requests your presence in the chamber which he never leaves."
"I would like to greet the Master of Dreams."
Nijah retreated out of the door backwards like one of those obsequious Old
Earth servants who never showed their backsides to a potentate - unless the potentate
had certain inclinations. Kane watched the conflict of two necessities with some
interest, eventually Nijah was forced to turn his back and lead the way. Once more, it
was downward and as they turned each corner, the seismic and thermal activity
increased. The ground and rock walls shuddered and Kane's nervousness reached
panic proportions.
His guide eventually stepped to one side - apparently, this was as far as he
went. Kane stood in the entrance of a great cavern. Its floor was a carpet of vapour
which surged and boiled as spurts of steam jetted out of hidden vents. Kane hoped he
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
wouldn't be standing over one of them when it decided to erupt. If it was scalding hot,
it would certainly make his eyes water. There was a low chuckle of laughter from
somewhere ahead.
"It is good to see that your sense of humour has survived your many travels
and tribulations, my Lord Quetzal!"
The voice was thin, dry and ancient.
Kane stepped into the chamber and the mist swirled around him, he lost sight
of his feet. At first, he couldn't see who had spoken and then the mist parted
momentarily and he saw him seated on a heap of hides. In front of him was a brazier
which emitted a lot of heat. It was this which was evaporating the mist around him.
An incredibly old man was looking at him with an expectant smile.
"Greetings, old friend! Urartu greets you who has been absent for too long
from the Community of the Crags."
"I thank you for your greeting."
Urartu stared at him for a long moment and stayed silent for an uncomfortable
length of time.
"Ah! I understand! It is as you said it would be. You have no knowledge. It
seems that I am destined to bring you to the Awakening!"
The last time Kane had heard that, it had nearly cost him his balls! He
sincerely hoped this was not going to be a repeat performance. Urartu chuckled to
himself.
"I see that you have lived through many adventures, Quetzal of the Flock!
Your physical appearance is just as it was - except, perhaps, that your day seems
shortened. I see that you have no memory of the time you spent here with us, and it
was only two days ago!"
Kane stared at him. Two days ago, he had been travelling across their
godforsaken desert, trying to survive the heat. Urartu continued to murmur.
"The Cycle of the Images has begun. One, you have already drawn to yourself
and another you now seek. The purpose of the Unmentionable Ones is being
manifested. The Image of he whom you seek is with you. He is not the one whom you
have loved as a brother and much sorrow will be your portion. Keep the Image
hidden, Lord Quetzal, it is prudent for you to do so. There will be many who will seek
your life, when its secret is revealed."
He stopped talking and Kane waited for more. Nijah emerged from
somewhere. He touched his lips with his finger and then indicated the entrance. The
audience was at an end and Kane was left with more questions than answers. He
followed Nijah through the mist and when they reached the entrance, looked back.
Urartu was hidden again. There had been an upsurge of activity from the jets scattered
across the floor. The ground shook violently and he steadied himself against the rock
wall. He was glad to return to his quarters. He turned to Nijah.
"There were so many things I wanted to ask."
"The Master of Dreams was beyond hearing your voice, Lord Quetzal. His
great power was attuned to distant voices, but even his strength is limited. He is now
exhausted and must be given time to recover!"
Nijah bowed himself out of the room and Kane was left to his thoughts. The
old man had described him as 'old friend'. He was to be 'Awakened'. His 'days seemed
shortened'. He took the last first, perhaps it was just another way of saying that he
looked younger. He has spent time with them 'only two days earlier'. It was a repeat
scenario of what had been suggested with the Lynxe. He was due to visit them again,
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
sometime in his future, which would be sometime in their past! He felt in his guts,
that it was going to lead to all sorts of complications.
Urartu was the key. He had been living when Kane had made his 'first' visit, so
it could not be so very long before. Then there was Hammadi, who was of the firm
opinion that Kane was his long lost father. Hammadi was no more than Kane's age -
which dated his previous visit at no more than twenty-five Earth years earlier. It was a
more manageable time frame. The Master of Dreams had a good deal of information
about the Pentacles and he also knew of an undefined danger associated with the
image of the hawk-featured man hidden beneath his Kous. The reference to 'the one
he loved' held a threat and a promise and he had no idea what it meant.
He needed answers. The Bole occupied the centre of the floor and for the want
of something better to do, he activated it.
"Status."
"Integrity."
Kane relaxed. Apparently, it had survived the Psi journey and didn't seem the
worse for wear, despite the being jolted across a thousand kilometres of desert in
above tolerance temperatures.
"I want a full run down on this planet."
"Insufficient data."
Kane suppressed his irritation it was a predictable answer.
"Tell me how many elapsed hours since we left the Lynxe star system?"
"One hundred and five Old Earth hours."
Kane nodded, his estimate of the passing of time had been roughly correct.
"What is the duration of a day on this planet?"
"One day is as a thousand years."
Kane stared at the Bole.
"I didn't request quotations from literature, ancient and poetic! I asked for the
duration of this planet's day!"
"Sensory observation indicates that this planet has an axial speed of 0.00049
degrees - to five decimal places - during the equivalent period of one Old Earth day.
The full axis is completed in approximately seven hundred and thirty thousand Old
Earth days. Calculated into Old Earth years, this equals two thousand. It is estimated
that the day and night periods are equal - with an adjustment for orbital speed.
Therefore, one day is as a thousand years!"
The pronouncement was clean and logical - and also unbelievable. If the Bole
had been capable of self satisfaction, it would have been well pleased with itself for a
masterly piece of deductive reasoning. Thankfully, it was not capable of selfsatisfaction.
It waited for further input. Kane had enough to think about, he
deactivated it and wished he hadn't been so inquisitive.
He would have been happier without the information, it raised all sorts of
unpalatable conclusions. His escort had spoken in terms of days. The one who had
been killed at the ocean boundary was described as being 'only two'. According to the
Bole, that meant either two or four thousand Old Earth years, depending if the nights
were included. Urartu had said that Kane had been with them two days earlier. The
same arithmetic applied. He had last visited them either two or four thousand years
earlier!
He needed another interview with Urartu. He needed clarification of what they
considered to be a day. He need an explanation of the length of time these people
lived. They looked human but the comparison would end if their life span was
measured in thousands of Earth years.
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
He placed the Bole in a surveillance mode. It was to remain silent and
immobile unless it was attacked or moved. It would observe and report all activity.
These were elementary precautions. It could only be a matter of time before someone
took a good look at the Pentacle and identified its image. When that happened, he
would need to be on his guard.
He stretched out on his bedding and stared at the rock ceiling. Urartu intrigued
him. Zayez had been the All Wise. Urartu was the Master of Dreams. What dreams, he
wondered? What visions could the old man see? What implications would they hold
for Kane Ashford and the dormant man he carried within him. On Lynxe, he had been
Taxila. On Jubal, he apparently went under the name of Lord Quetzal and for the
moment, he had chosen to remain quiescent. Lord Quetzal and his Flock. A flock of
what, Kane wondered? Surely not the ridiculous Picun! There was a surge of inner
amusement. Lord Quetzal was not as inactive as he pretended!
Kane fingered the Pentacle at his neck. One of his tasks was obvious. It was to
seek out and befriend the man whose image it carried. Something told him it would
not be easy. Before he left the planet, this man would have to be won over and
agreeable to leaving with him - for what purpose? Danyk had left Lynxe with him -
and he was lost somewhere in the Psi channel they had both entered. Kane had a
sudden longing for his Companion of the Image. He felt an urgent need for support on
a hostile world, whose people appeared to be so totally different to those of Lynxe.
He glanced at the Bole. He had access to time again. He only needed to
activate it and ask. He did so, estimation was an inexact art and impossible in a cavern
hundreds of metres below the surface. Even on the surface, the transit of the sun of
Jubal hadn't helped him to estimate time during his journey. The 0.00049 of a degree,
the Bole had talked about, was imperceptible. To all intents and purposes, the red
giant was motionless. In the normal human lifetime, it would change position only a
little over one and a quarter degrees. The Bole politely provided the information that it
was about four in the afternoon of an average Old Earth day cycle.
Kane's stomach was growling. The diet of hard tack upon which he had
survived whilst crossing the desert, could hardly be described as a gourmet meal. He
hoped it wasn't going to prove to be the staple diet. He remembered the loaded table
in the Thanehold of Lyot and the last evening he had shared a meal with them - and
Maia's small hand creeping into his in an attempt at consolation. He wondered how
many hundreds of years separated him from her. It was possible that those times were
remote history. Perhaps the coming of Taxila at that time was now a legend in which
Maia had the role of the woman he had taken and left, pregnant with his child. The
opposite could also apply and Maia was yet to be born.
He forced the thoughts out of his mind, there was nothing to be gained by self
torture, or false hopes that he might be able to return to her. He was interrupted. Nijah
almost crawled into the room.
"I crave my Lord's forgiveness."
It had a familiar ring to it. Kane sighed in exasperation. It seemed to go with
the territory that he was never going to be treated as a normal human being. People
had the habit of feeling cheated when it was discovered that he had feet of clay. He
had an unpleasant memory of Jabez and his attempt at amateur surgery.
"What's the problem, Nijah?"
"My Lord will surely chastise me!"
"Please explain."
"I failed to provide clean clothing, Lord Quetzal!"
"Is that all?"
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"My Lord Quetzal is most kind."
He dumped an armful of smocks on the table and backed away.
"I trust these are suitable, my Lord."
He waited for Kane to make an inspection.
"These are most suitable, Nijah."
The old man almost straightened up.
"A great feast is being prepared in your honour, Lord Quetzal. In due course, I
will return to escort you."
He bowed and scraped himself out of the room, leaving Kane to turn over the
selection of tunics. He said to no one in particular.
"I'm going to pick one of the fancy ones - especially if there's going to be a
party."
One in particular, took his eye. It was heavily ornamented with precious stones
- and it had the shape of a pentacle embroidered on the chest. Kane had the feeling
that Urartu had ordered its inclusion, knowing very well that it would prove
irresistible for the occasion. The Bole was made to double as a barber, removing his
beard and trimming his hair. Eventually, resplendent in the selected tunic, he awaited
the arrival of Nijah. There was some delay and his stomach developed a resentful
growl.
Eventually, Nijah appeared at the entrance. His eyes widened appreciatively.
"My Lord looks magnificent!"
He followed the old man through the warren of passages, stairs and chambers.
He knew he would be hopelessly lost if he didn't have a guide. There was a distant
clamour of noise, it wasn't hostile, just a lot of people talking together. Nijah stepped
aside at the entrance to a huge cavern. Its origin was obviously volcanic and probably
the result of a great gaseous bubble blown in the molten rock during a long-distant
eruption. Contorted shapes of rock bulged from the roof and the walls. The floor was
level and was now occupied by a great crowd of people. Light from dozens of flares
cast flickering shadows across their hushed faces. Young, old, adults and children had
suddenly become silent when they saw him.
Kane paused in the entrance, the effect was subconsciously theatrical. The
Pentacle at his neck had persistently refused to remain hidden under the neckline of
his tunic. It gleamed in the ruddy light of the flares. There was a roar, an acclamation.
It made him shrink back momentarily, but it touched an emotion in him which was
hard to describe. They knew him, they honoured him - they loved him - but he only
saw strangers.
Nijah escorted him to a raised section of the floor. They walked through
smiling excited faces. Kane could see anticipation, eagerness. Something was
expected of him. He groped around within his mind for the other man, who had been
content to remain dormant until that time. He whispered to him in his mind.
"Do something for these people, I have nothing!"
On the outside, he lived the part, smiling, acknowledging the acclaim -
inwardly, he was faced with a stubborn silence.
Whatever was to be demanded from him was not immediate. Great platters of
food gave out a rich, inviting aroma. His stomach went into raptures of delight. As
soon as he was seated and without further ceremony, those who had gathered fell
upon the food like vultures. It was probably an unfortunate comparison, seeing that
they bore the stamp of the hawk in their high cheekbones and long, thin noses.
There could be no doubt that these were the Aquiline strain mentioned by
Hauptmeier so many hundreds of years earlier, on a planet orbiting a yellow sun
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called Sol. In some way, the old archaeologist had known of their existence. It was
either that, or he had possessed one of the most amazing deductive minds of all time.
He had mentioned four strains which he asserted, made up the physiology of Homo
Sapiens. The Aquiline was the second and the Feline the first, whom Kane had found
on Danyk's home world.
He ate quickly, his instincts told him that the opportunity would soon pass.
Nijah watched and waited for the honoured guest to falter in his intake.
"If our Lord Quetzal would honour us by telling of his adventures during the
long days of his absence."
Kane rose to his feet and stared into the eager faces. He murmured inwardly
and urgently.
"Taxila - Quetzal, whatever you call yourself. If you want to retain credibility
with these people, you'd better take over!"
The response was a lazy, weary, bored movement. There was an exchange
inwardly and Kane receded into the depths of his psyche. Quetzal surveyed his people
and smiled in benevolence.
CHAPTER 4
"I am Quetzal, who serves those who have been and are, whose name may not
be mentioned. I am one with them and they with me and our purpose is beyond your
capacity to understand. I have been absent from you for two days and have wandered
the scattered worlds. I am Quetzal, who serves the Unmentionable. I have seen
beyond the edge of the worlds and know the utter blackness of nothingness. I have
touched the hearts of suns and warmed my fingers in their fires. I have breathed the
emptiness between the stars and have lived. I have known many men and have walked
as a god on many worlds. I have been enslaved and suffered the lash of many tyrants.
I have been exalted and debased.
I am the Lord of the Flock and I have returned to them for one last time. I will
send you forth from Jubal, before the time of the Dwarf is fulfilled. So it has been
willed by those who are your Masters."
He stopped talking and stared into the intent, silent faces. Kane began to
struggle back into ascendancy and his dinner felt as if it too, wanted to see the outside
world again. His heart started to thump but there lingered within him still, the surging
power which had accompanied the presence of Quetzal, the hidden man.
The profound silence was suddenly broken by a great shout of sound. It wasn't
the start of a riot, people clutched each other, some wept, others danced. Then,
abruptly, they stopped again and with one voice they roared repeatedly: Quetzal!
Quetzal! Quetzal!
Kane started to shake - only the god he carried within him knew what he had
got himself into. He had the desire to crawl under the nearest rock. He tried to
maintain a sober expression in the face of all the excitement. The commotion
continued for quite a while. Further comment would not only have been superfluous,
it would have been inaudible. Gradually, the noise decreased. Kane walked down into
the crowd. No one tried to touch him as he passed, there was no reaching out. He
19

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looked into radiant faces gazing into his. They were reverent with awe and he felt sick
at heart at the deception. Something had been unleashed and he wasn't sure what. He
had a feeling that the inner man was highly amused.
When he got back to his quarters, he sagged into one of the chairs and placed
his shaking hands, face down on the table. Nijah was gone, backing out almost on his
face. Kane's body started to shake violently and his teeth chattered as if he was in a
fever. He was on his own, no Danyk or Zayez to enter into his mind to quieten him.
He took to his bed and eventually managed a fitful sleep.
When he woke, it took a moment for him to remember where he was.
Instinctively, he had reached out for Maia - and then the memory flooded back and
with it, the promises he had made to an adoring people. As soon as he stirred, Nijah
had appeared and with him, breakfast. Kane wondered how far away he lurked and
how much he had seen and wondered about the trauma Kane had experienced before
sleeping. The old man was desperately eager to please. He must have lived on a razor
edge of uncertainty, never sure when his life might be snuffed out by the god-creature
he served. Kane refused to speculate on how old he might be in earth years. He
finished eating. Nijah emerged from the shadows.
"If my Lord Quetzal pleases - The Lord Quetzal's son wishes to speak with my
Lord!"
Nijah was eyeing him intently and with a certain degree of speculation. Kane
felt like a clown who had been caught climbing out of a bedroom window. Ever since
he had turned fifteen, he had been anticipating some presenting himself on the
doorstep and calling him 'Daddy'.
"You may show the young man in."
Kane wondered if he was one of many bastards he had left littered across the
planet on his - previous - visit. Nijah returned, obscuring the young man who
followed. The old man turned and left and Kane stared into the face of Hammadi.
There was an awkward silence. Hammadi dropped to his one knee and bowed his
head.
"I greet you, my father, Lord Quetzal. My father has not yet given me his
blessing."
In the more normal light of the flares, it was possible to see that his hair was
brown, not black. It was Kane's colour brown. Hammadi looked up again, his eyes
were Kane's characteristic dark blue. In the surface light, they had appeared to be
black. He waited and the pause became uncomfortable.
"Perhaps, my father does not wish to bless me?"
"I am happy to - bless you - "
A picture from an ancient book his mother had once treasured, flashed across
Kane's mind. She had been a sucker for any propagandist and religious fanatic who
thrived in the atmosphere of oppression, dirt and boredom, which was Mars. The
picture had shown a scrawny man with a flowing white beard, who turned his eyes up
to the sky. One hand was placed on the head of some youngster who ought to have
known better. Kane swallowed and imitated the gesture, hoping that it coincided with
what went for a local custom. He said nothing - the picture had not had a caption.
It seemed to satisfy his - son. Hammadi got to his feet and loomed over him.
Kane made room on the seat.
"Hammadi - You do realise that I have returned to Jubal with no memory of -
er - my previous visit?"
"The Master of Dreams has told me, Lord Quetzal. He sent me to meet you
and especially asked my uncle that I might be released from the herder's tasks. After
20

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
you spoke to the people, he called me to the Cave of the Wraiths and explained that
you have no memory of the earlier time."
So - Urartu was behind the present visit.
"How old are you, Hammadi?"
Kane's pulse quickened.
"I was born before the start of the night, two days ago. It is now near to the
end of my second day."
Kane asked carefully.
"Do you count a day as being that which lies between two nights. Or does
your day start from the end of one night to the end of the next night?"
His eyes widened a little.
"The first, Lord Quetzal."
It seemed that his son was about four thousand years old - unless the Bole had
taken leave of its circuits! Kane fought down a rising tide of hysteria mingled with a
surge of uproarious humour.
"And your mother, Hammadi - is she well?"
"The Tene Ajanta is beautiful and very well and eagerly awaits your coming,
my father!"
It was nice to see a young man who thought so well of his mother. Kane wasn't
quite sure if he could cope with meeting an eight thousand year old woman, whom he
took to bed when she was four thousand years old.
"She has waited for my Lord's return faithfully."
Hammadi was stoutly intent on declaring his mother's honour.
"She has never taken another and has waited the long days for your return. My
Uncle Obeid also awaits you eagerly, Lord Quetzal!"
"Your Uncle Obeid?"
Hammadi glowed with enthusiasm.
"He who loves you, Lord Quetzal. He too, will long to embrace you."
Kane swallowed the thought that he might have hedged his bets four thousand
years ago.
"Dagh and Motya - who are my Body Companions - and I, are now your Body
Companions. We will guard you from all harm!"
"I didn't realise that I was in any danger."
It looked as if he was about to have three young men underfoot, who might
impede his independent activities.
"You are always in danger from that Sharta, Eridos!"
The name was spat out with considerable venom.
"Eridos?"
"The Tepe Eridos, Lord of the Black Cloaks!"
Kane was getting out of his depth, he changed the subject.
"Were you born, when I - er - left?"
"I was conceived but not born, Lord Quetzal. You were summoned by those
who many not be mentioned. My mother and uncle, together with the Master of
Dreams and all of the Wraith Brothers, stood with you at the place of the Great Arch -
that is the place where we met you, Lord. If it had not been for Pjarl straying into the
ocean and being snatched by the Krain, we would have seen you return, as you
promised when you walked into the Great Arch."
Kane rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He had left yet another misguided female
literally holding his baby. It was becoming a habit, he wondered how many more
21

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
bastards would come home to roost before he completed his tour around the star
systems. He looked down to Hammadi, his glance was returned with filial devotion.
"Hammadi, I can't begin to explain the complexity of our relationship."
He interjected enthusiastically.
"It is simple, my father. I am your son!"
Kane tried again.
"Even if I tried, I doubt if you would understand. We look the same age but I
wouldn't like to try to explain just how different our ages are - "
He interjected again.
"That isn't difficult to understand, my father. We look alike, but that often
happens amongst us. Fathers and sons can look like brothers."
"I would feel more comfortable if you called me Kane."
"You do not like me to call you father?"
"I am - honoured - that you call me father, but my name is Kane. I would like
you to call me that."
"My mother once told me your name, it was what she called you! If it is your
wish, I will try to call you by it, my father!"
He jumped to his feet.
"May I tell my Body Companions that they are to be yours also?"
Kane nodded and his son made an abrupt exit. He nearly knocked over Nijah
as he left. Kane eyed his hand wringing servant severely.
"You understand - any words you might have overheard will be held as a
secret trust? It will go badly with you if you betray me or the Masters of Psi!"
The old man's eyes widened in fright. He must have been scared out of a
thousand years or two. He babbled on, declaring his complete loyalty, trustworthiness
and dedication to Kane's person. He practically crawled out of the room, obstructing
the passage of an impatient Hammadi. There was no doubt that Kane's son had
inherited his father's impetuous nature.
Dagh and Motya followed close behind. They looked a little overawed to find
themselves enrolled as his Body Companions - whatever that was supposed to imply.
They looked him over with candid curiosity. Clearly, his relationship with Hammadi
had been discussed.
"Dagh and Motya are your men!"
Hammadi's declaration was enthusiastic. Kane wondered how one could keep
the idealism of youth on the boil for two thousand years - his had evaporated after
five. He nodded his approval and welcome. He knew he was going to need all the
recruits he could muster before his time on Jubal came to an end. They stood and
stared at him and he realised that they were waiting for orders. He wondered what the
hell he could give them to do.
"Where have you been billeted?"
"Two levels down, Lord Quetzal - it is not a good thing for Body Companions
to be so distant from their Lord!"
"You have a point. Go and find Nijah."
The old man returned to the chamber with every indication of acute terror.
"It is my wish that my Body Companions are accommodated close to me and
given every comfort."
Nijah scraped out of the room, trailed by the three. It kept them occupied for
the better part of three hours and gave Kane much needed breathing space to absorb
his past history. The unknown Ajanta had apparently been carrying the torch for him
for about four thousand years. It promised to be a pretty hot flame by that time - an
22

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
aberrant thought suggested he ought to drill his Body Companions in fire fighting.
There was a surge of humour from the inner man who was obviously enjoying the
situation.
His self contemplation was interrupted by the return of Nijah.
"If my Lord, pleases. The Master of Dreams would be glad of your
attendance."
It wasn't an unexpected summons. A great deal was happening in a very short
space of time. Urartu had sent Hammadi, he hadn't waited for a natural unfolding of
the relationship, the old man was forcing the issue. Once more, Kane followed Nijah
to the entrance of the great cavern. The Cave of the Wraiths was even more shrouded
in vapour than on the previous occasion. It reached above his head and the ground
shook under him, as if the pressure was building up.
The open brazier drove back the mist. Urartu was seated on his pile of hides,
staring into the flame.
"I welcome he who represents those who have been and are and will always
be."
They were much the same words used by the inner man when he had
addressed the crowd on the previous evening.
"I greet Urartu, the Master of Dreams."
The old man made a slow gesture to a pile of hides on the opposite side of the
brazier. Kane sat and waited for the old one to speak again. He waited a long time and
while he waited, a subtle odour permeated the hot air coming from the brazier. It was
pungent but not unpleasant. Kane started to relax, the tension ebbed from him. He
stared into the flame and the fire held a picture.
He was a spectator. Men and women populated the cavern, but the sky above
was not the roof. It was a sky red with the light of the bulging star which hung on the
horizon. The scene was an encampment, a great area of tents made from Picun hides.
Most were quite small but there were those which were larger. The people moved
about among them. It was like a mobile city. He could see artisans working stripped to
the waist, their bodies dripping with sweat. They were forging metal or working
wood. Others, cantered on Picun through the encampment and out to a vast herd of
animals, milling about, browsing on the Schwarm on the nearby plains.
Kane could almost feel the heat, but it might have been the brazier. He
watched from some high place, as if he was in a dream. The activity was ordered and
he saw the one who controlled it. He sat on a stool in the doorway of one of the tents.
He looked to be about thirty years of age. A fine, solid man. He was clearly in
command but his face carried a hint of humour. Kane felt an surge of emotion - this
was someone he could love as a brother. The man turned as someone else joined him
from inside the tent. Kane caught his breath. She was tall and graceful and the Kous
couldn't hide the fine lines of her body. It was her face that captured him. Serene but
wistful. One who had waited and longed for something or someone. It wasn't a pretty
face, that would have been a cheap description, nor was she particularly beautiful.
Kane saw Hammadi in her and knew this was Ajanta. The man was her brother,
Obeid.
The picture faded from the flames. Kane found himself staring into the
impersonal eyes of Urartu.
"I thank you, Master of Dreams. An ancient wise man of my people once said
that a picture speaks a thousand words. You have shown me great riches."
He nodded acknowledgement. Kane wondered if the interview was at an end,
but there was more.
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"You have many thoughts which trouble you, Lord Quetzal. I will show you
more."
Kane was learning not to hurry things. A certain pace applied when dealing
with the Master of Dreams. Urartu always deliberated before he spoke and then
spaced his words as if he had a lifetime to express one sentence. Kane wondered how
old he actually was, he restrained the thought, it might have been improper to ask. The
old man chuckled.
"There were those who say that the Wraith Master is ten days old, but then
they think that it might be an extravagance. They say that it is impossible for one to be
that old! As always with the young, they exaggerate. I will not achieve that age - I will
fall short. I am born of one who came to Jubal from that which was the home of the
People of the Ship. You have realised that we are not of this world. Those who gave
me life, travelled to this planet in a ship of the sky.
They were great travellers, who fulfilled the will of the Masters of Psi. It was
their plan for us to journey between the stars and to seed races on the worlds we
visited. So you see, Kane Ashford, it is possible that my ancestors are your ancestors!
The Commander of the vessel which carried my parents and their
contemporaries to this planet, was attracted by the possibility of observing something
which is rarely seen. Two stars drawing close to each other. In their mutual attraction
they nearly tore the bowels out of the other. They staggered in their course but there
was not a mutual destruction. Eventually, they drew apart, as if repelled, and
continued their circling of each other at a great distance.
The red star had a planet and those who guided the vessel decided to attempt a
landing. The ship was disabled in the execution of that manoeuvre. Much strife
occurred between the inhabitants of the ship and prevented the enabling of the Ship.
All this happened nine days ago. I am not ten days old, but nearly so. I will not
see ten days, for the Dwarf draws near. This time, Jubal will not survive!"
In the ensuing silence, Kane assembled the facts. The giant red was one half of
a spectroscopic binary system with a white dwarf. It was a fairly common
combination. The unusual factor was the inclusion of a planet in a system where two
stars came so close to each other that they almost tore each other apart. It was a highly
dangerous - and temporary situation. The planet would be highly unstable, susceptible
to staggering forces. The white dwarf composition of collapsed and impacted matter,
would eventually tear the planet apart.
If Urartu was correct, it would not survive another brush with the white dwarf.
The critical point in the cycle was approximately twenty thousand earth years. The
respective stellar orbits would be exaggerated ellipses and the orbital speeds so
irregular, that only once in twenty thousand years, would the proximity of the two
stars pose a threat one to the other and to the luckless planet which would be in the
wrong place at the wrong time.
Another incredible fact was that the planet still retained an atmosphere. By all
the laws of stellar physics, it should have been stripped off aeons earlier, together with
the oceans. Urartu spoke again.
"This world turns very slowly. On one side, the temperature is so hot, that it is
not possible to survive in the lands directly under the red star. The other side is
unspeakably cold, so much so, that the very air is frozen into a wasteland. The slow
movement unlocks what is frozen and great winds scour the surface where the night
meets the day. Every time the Dwarf visits, the atmosphere is depleted."
Kane waited an appropriate length of time before asking:
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"Tell me, Master of Knowledge. What is it that I am supposed to do? Last
evening I made a promise to save the people. I'm not able to change the course of
stars. This planet will surely be destroyed - and possibly, the red star as well. I can't do
anything to stop it happening."
Urartu answered rather more quickly than usual.
"You are Quetzal. You will lead your Flock and they will find another world!
The will of the Masters will be satisfied!"
He lapsed into silence once again and this time, Kane sensed that the interview
was at an end. Once again, he left the Cave of the Wraiths with more questions than
answers. A lot had been made clear but the means by which he was going to do the
impossible, had not been explained.
Hammadi and his two companions were sitting waiting for him. They jumped
to their feet and to attention. He waved them down.
"You aren't on parade! Now, I want a few answers. I want you to talk until
your jaws ache! I want to know everything there is to know about the people of Jubal.
Everything, you understand? I want to know all there is, even the things you think I
ought to remember. I want to know what you eat and drink and when you sleep. What
happens when the night comes? When do you sow your crops, how long is the
growing cycle? I want to know about birth and death, how long you are carried in the
womb? How long you are infants? I want to know what happens when you die. I want
to know about your religious life - your priests, if you have any. I want to know how
you are ruled. That will do for starters! I'll think of plenty more!"
They were so eager to please, it was almost pathetic. He had to get them to
take turns, otherwise, they would have all talked together. As it was, one would
contradict the other, or butt in to expand a point if he thought the subject hadn't been
done justice. The telling took a long time and Nijah appeared with food before they
were finished.
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CHAPTER 5
Hammadi took control of the proceedings. It befitted his status as the son of
Quetzal.
"Our fathers have taught us the story of the long journey between the stars and
how the Tepe Tursac crash-landed the ancestral ship."
He waited to see if Kane would contradict him. Kane nodded and said nothing.
Urartu hadn't mentioned the Tepe Tursac.
"We were not the first to land on Jubal. In the ancient records of our people,
there is the story of another people who came here."
Dagh interjected.
"It is not certain if they were our people."
Hammadi looked irritated.
"It doesn't matter if they were or were not! Jubal has been visited before, the
Legend of the Sentinels tells us so. We knew of the landing before we came to Jubal!"
It looked as if a stand up argument was about to develop. Kane intervened
gently.
"Perhaps, we could skip that detail."
Hammadi glared at Dagh and returned to the story.
"Our ancestors journeyed between the stars, we do not know for how long.
They had a special task, but we do not know what it was. Our people still understand
the theories of interstellar flight. Our fathers have kept the knowledge alive, even as
their fathers kept it alive in them."
Kane nodded encouragement. This was no race of agriculturists. Their
longevity must have helped them to retain the knowledge. He had to keep reminding
himself that they might look like twenty year olds but their grandfathers had travelled
the star lanes twenty thousand years earlier. Hammadi went on.
26

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"We know about the binary star system and how the Dwarf returns in its orbit
to threaten the Giant. We have seen the stars. When our sons come of age, their
fathers take them to the fringe of the ice-lands on the back of the planet. There, we see
the stars and the blackness between them."
Kane felt gut wrenching homesickness. He remembered journeys he had
thought tedious at the time. Casual journeys between the asteroids of New Earth, or
Mars and the Moon.
Hammadi stared him straight in the eye and gave him a graphic lesson in
biology and assured him that the sex act was performed in a way which did not
warrant a medal for bravery. The period of gestation was similar to that of Homo
Sapiens. Birth was as difficult and painful.
Kane nodded once more.
"Tell me something. In comparison to my people, you live a long time. Do
your infants stay as babies for many of my years?"
There was a moment of wide-eyed shock and then they exploded into laughter.
When it had died down, Hammadi managed to control himself enough to explain.
"If that happened I don't think we could sweet talk our women into agreeing to
have a child. What woman would want to change diapers for the equivalent of a
hundred of your years?"
There was another hoot of laughter.
"Infancy is over quickly but after that, the life curve begins to flatten. We are
children for about five hundred of your years and then, when we become sexually
active, the levelling off of the life curve really takes effect. From that time on, you can
hardly see a person age until they reach a high number of days. Urartu is a rare
example of one who has reached almost ten days!"
There was a murmur of awe from Dagh and Motya.
"What about disease and death?"
Hammadi toyed with the fringe of his tunic.
"If one becomes senile or terminally ill, we have the option to take the Breath
of Death. Urartu is the master of this too. He provided the means for the gentle
extinguishing of a life which has become a burden."
His face darkened.
"There are always the casualties which come from the Enmity and the Battle."
Kane side stepped the subject, not wanting to get bogged down in their local
politics.
"Tell me about sleep."
Hammadi leaned forward.
"First, you must tell us what you call sleep."
It was an exercise in semantics but eventually there was common ground.
Hammadi nodded briskly.
"Now, I understand. Sleep is the closing down of the bodily functions and
happens at night."
That wasn't quite what Kane had said, but he didn't want another long
argument.
"For us, sleep also happens at the end of our day. There comes a time in the
cycle of the days, when the night creeps over the Places of Encampment. At this time,
we hurry before the great storms of the nightline and move our herds and
Encampments into the deep caverns. In comparison to them, the Wraith Caves are
shallow. The Enmity and the Battle are suspended. We never mingle with the Black
Cloaks and we are always on our guard against treachery. We seal the entrances to the
27

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
caverns and the Master of Dreams gives us the means to make our bodies become
cold.
From within ourselves we are able to suspend our bodily functions and slow
down our heartbeats. We need no food and little air. This is the way in which we sleep
through the countless heartbeats of the long night."
Kane felt the alienness of these normal looking men impact on him. The
literally had the ability to switch themselves off! He cleared a suddenly dry throat to
ask another question.
"When I sleep. What do you do?"
"This is when we look within ourselves. We shut out the heat of the plain, or
the sound of the herd and move within ourselves. This, we call rest and its purpose is
to restore the inner balance."
It was time to move on to the subject of agriculture.
"When our fathers came to Jubal, they carried seeds with them. These they
brought from the Home World."
"Where is the Home World?"
"The knowledge is lost. The Home World is where the journey began."
"What was the name of that world?"
"That is also lost from our memories."
"Where did the Picun come from?
"They came with the ship."
Kane looked incredulous. It sounded as if their ancestors were gluttons for
punishment. No self respecting space traveller would take livestock around with him.
The poor bloody beasts would be floating around weightless and so would their
wastes. Then, there was the logistics of feeding them. Kane brought back his
wandering thoughts abruptly. Hammadi had switched subjects.
"The Herd quickly adapted to eating the Schwarm. The only others to use it
for food are the Sentinels and there was more than enough for the Picun. We have
never found another life form on the land The Sentinels command the sky. The Krain
is master of the ocean. Perhaps there are others which live beneath the ocean - we
have never seen them, but the Krain has to live on something. They both have
survived the many times when the Dwarf has come close. It would not be possible for
anything on the land to do so."
"Tell me about the Sentinels."
All three suddenly became wary.
"What do they look like close at hand?"
Dagh and Motya were suddenly silent, which put Hammadi in the hot seat.
Kane's son hedged.
"Nobody knows."
Kane leaned back and stared at him.
"You must find corpses - do you hunt them?"
Hammadi looked horrified and breathed.
"That would be a sacrilege!"
"What about hatching colonies?"
Dagh interjected.
"There are no hatching colonies, Lord Quetzal."
He subsided quickly, Kane turned to Hammadi.
"What's the mystery?"
"There is no mystery, my father. The Sentinel is like us, it lives our years. The
Legend tells us that a Sentinel never meets with its own kind - not even for the
28

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purpose of mating! When the Dwarf comes close, it is the signal to the Sentinels to
start the Migration. The whole race, the Flock, wings away from where the Dwarf will
meet the Giant. They stay aloft and watch the ocean rise and wash over the land. They
ride the fierce winds until the Dwarf departs. During that long flight, something
happens within them and a new life is generated. When the land is dry again, they
land and eat and await the hatching of a new life."
He fell silent and Kane debated how much was fairy tale and how much was
scientific fact. He sensed there was more. Hammadi couldn't meet his eye and looked
as if he was fiddling with a non-existent piece of string. He looked up
"It is said that they Know and Move with one mind. It is said that they know
all things, for their knowledge never dies. It is born again into the being of the new
life when it is hatched."
There was another long silence and more twisting of invisible string.
"It is said also, that when our people die, they are caught up into the Mind of
the Flock and that the Sentinels increase, not only by the means of birth from the eggwombs,
but that our people become one of them - a new one!"
Moyta had been silent for a long time, he interjected eagerly.
"Didn't you see it, Lord Quetzal? At the ocean, when Pjarl was eaten by the
Krain. Soon after, almost at the moment when he died, a Sentinel rose against the sky,
far out over the ocean. We watched it rise. A Sentinel never flies over the ocean -
unless it is the time of the Migration - but then, everything is ocean!"
They subsided into an embarrassed silence and looked at him. It was time to
call it a day. Kane was tired and the story of the Sentinels had stirred the inner man
into restlessness. He thanked them and sent them off to their own quarters. It was the
signal for Nijah to appear with food, for once, he was a welcome sight.
The dream returned that night for the first time since he had arrived on Jubal.
The scenery was now familiar. It was no longer strange to walk naked on a purplesanded
seashore, upon which lapped a black and sullen ocean. He knew the Arch, it
was the means by which he had arrived on Jubal. Danyk walked with him, his was the
only face he recognised. There were many others, but they were onlookers,
anonymous witnesses. Kane looked into their ranks as if searching for someone, but
he couldn't find him.
He turned to the Arch and stood before it. He was waiting for something or
someone. This time, the strong element of fear was missing. He was in complete
command and he had an incredible power. It began to surge to the surface until every
pulse throbbed. The Pentacle on his chest began to glow, this was also a new
experience. It wasn't hot to his flesh and the unknown material from which it was
made, remained cool. The glow was something not physical, something which was
attuned to a force which radiated from the Arch and into him.
He began to speak in a tongue he did not recognise. He didn't understand his
own words, but those around him fell to the ground under their impact. Only Danyk
remained standing and close to him. Then from beyond the fallen figures three others
walked towards them. The one in the front was unmistakable - sneering, arrogant,
hostile - the man of the Pentacle image. Kane couldn't see the features of the two
which followed, but they were physically different types to the men of Jubal.
The scene shivered into unreality and he awoke abruptly, staring at the rock
walls and roof and the flickering lights of the torches. Even the awakening was
different, he was calm and relaxed, with not a hint of the trauma he had experienced
on previous occasions. He thought over the image he had been shown. The message
29

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had been unclear but he knew that he would soon be required to move on and
complete the task he had been given.
In this dream, he had been shown as the controlling figure, one who possessed
great power. For the first time, he had caught a glimpse of all four who made up the
Companions of the Image. It had to mean something, an acceleration perhaps. The
Masters of Psi were restless, perhaps, even impatient with the slowness of his
progress.
He slept again and this time, it was untroubled. When he woke once more, he
could hear someone wallowing around in the communal bath chamber. There was a
low, mournful bellow - a kind of chant. After a while, he couldn't stand it anymore, so
he went to investigate.
"Who died?"
Hammadi stopped abruptly.
"Died?"
"You were wailing for the dead?"
He splashed slowly to one side to allow Kane to enter the pool.
"My father does not enjoy music?"
"On the contrary - I enjoy music!"
The mournful dirge recommenced. Kane pushed his son's head under the
water, which had the desired effect of terminating the noise abruptly. He rose to the
surface spitting. Kane grinned at him and waited for retaliation. It was forthcoming. It
had the twin effect of stopping the noise and breaking down the barrier of awe-struck
restraint.
"My uncle said you were a wild man!"
Kane eased back and trod water warily.
"Your uncle?"
"Obeid - Lord of the Grey Cloaks - your brother of the Cloak!"
He lunged in attack and nearly caught Kane off guard. It provoked another
round of sparring and retaliation. They didn't realise they had an audience. Dagh and
Motya stood beside the pool and surveyed the proceedings gravely. It looked as if
they weren't quite sure whether the Lord Quetzal and his son were having a serious
fight, or whether they ought to get involved. Kane yelled.
"Come on in, the water's fine!"
They exchanged glances and didn't wait for a second invitation. They dropped
their tunics by the water's edge and plunged in. Hammadi was in a strange mood, the
dirge gave way to a lament which didn't quite fit the words. It had something to do
with the delights of sharing the cloak with a willing partner. Dagh and Motya joined
in the chorus and their combined noise nearly brought down the roof. There was
nothing original in the lyric, except for one verse which told of a god which came to
their world and fertilised all and sundry and nearly lost his balls in the process.
Hammadi eventually ran out of verses and Kane decided to provide a little
light relief. He got through about ten verses of the Whorehouse on Mars, before the
rendition was brought to an abrupt close by the scandalised appearance of Nijah. He
hovered by the side of the pool, wringing his hands, knowing that he was risking
instant annihilation.
"My Lords are creating a disturbance. The other visitors find it hard to
concentrate on their meditative devotions. They also wish to share the water - but my
Lords are so boisterous - "
Kane waved his hand for silence.
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"Quetzal does not often visit the Caverns of the Crag with his son and his
companions. Tell those who complain, that the Lord of the Flock extends his welcome
to them. They may use the pool if they so wish."
Kane heaved himself out of the water and stood dripping in front of the old
man. His Body Companions followed suit. He draped an arm around his son's
shoulders. Hammadi had his body, he looked hard and fit. Nijah retreated and they
trooped into Kane's chamber. Hammadi wanted to know.
"Do you wish to ask more questions?"
He didn't sound too enthusiastic. Kane decided to give the exercise a break. He
felt restless. Hammadi and his companions brightened up perceptibly when he
suggested.
"Let's take a ride!"
The thought of another session clinging to the back of the Picun, tended to
make him wonder whatever had induced him to make the suggestion. An answering
thought suggested that it would be good to be out in the open air again, under a sky
and not a cavern roof.
He wanted to get away from the instability. The ground trembled all the time
and there were frequent severe shocks, which raised his nervous tension more than a
few notches. Hammadi and the other two seemed to take it in their stride, unless it
was particularly sharp, when they would make some flippant remark. The place was
unnerving, even on Mars, he had disliked it when his search for minerals took him
underground.
He began to have second thoughts, when they emerged into the fierce glare of
the red star. It had been very cool in the caverns, except for the Cave of the Wraiths.
The heat had a bludgeoning effect, even the Kous couldn't keep it out. He pulled his
hood up and over his face, to avoid to ruddy glare. The Picun had been led to the front
of the rock. He pitied those who spent their lives as grooms - perhaps they took turns.
They melted away into whatever shade they could find, as soon as they had finished
their duties.
The quartet were left in charge of the animals. Kane's eyed him with
indifference and he hoped it was docile. He asked himself yet again, what had induced
him to suggest the discomfort he was enduring. He watched the ease with which
Hammadi mounted. He seemed to fling himself on the animal's back and then swing
his leg over to sit astride. It was harder than it looked and Kane managed to get
himself into an unfortunate position. He heard a distinct snigger. He glared at his son,
who was trying to keep a straight face.
"It is not considered the best example of filial devotion to laugh at your
father!"
Hammadi assumed an expression of contrition. It was spoiled by a twitching at
the corners of the mouth. Kane started to swear and this was mistaken for a command
by his far from docile mount. He spent the next few seconds flying through the air,
before landing on his backside in the dust. He glared at his three companions, who
met his glance with wooden expressions. He climbed to his feet and dusted off the
Kous. He then grabbed the Picun by the hair around its throat. It squealed at the
unexpected belligerence but he still managed to fling himself astride before it took off
at a half gallop and led the way out of the courtyard of natural rock.
It slowed down to a complaining trot and he was able to admire the scenery.
There wasn't much to see, although the crops to each side were of paramount
importance to those who depended on them for their survival. He judged that the area
31

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
under cultivation was far greater than would be required for the limited population of
the Crag Caverns.
There were irrigation channels, fed by the same underground supply which fed
the pools in the caverns. The water glinted black under the fiery light of the star. He
glanced up at it. It was an ugly, red monster - old, decrepit, its bloated surface,
varicosed with blackish purple veins. There was something new, Hammadi reined in
his Picun beside him and looked up. Out to one side, like a gaseous blister, was a what
looked like a gathering boil on the star's equator. It stood out against the magenta sky.
"It is the sign of the Dwarf. Few have seen it."
"And none have lived who have!"
The comment came from within. They looked at him and said nothing. A great
Sentinel soared in the sky above them. It swept back and forth without any apparent
motion of its great wings. Far across the plain, he could see another speck in the sky.
Perhaps, this was the nearest they came to each other. He felt the inner man stir. What
sort of creature could spend such a solitary existence? Never to congregate with its
own kind, not even for the purpose of mating.
Kane had found that part of Hammadi's story hard to swallow. He knew that
lower forms of life had once existed on Old Earth, which had been hermaphroditic.
None had been a creature as biologically developed as these birds. He reminded
himself that this was not Old Earth. On this world, the rules were not the same as for
those which had developed around yellow suns.
Jubal would soon be torn apart. The inner man knew that. It was part of the
plan of the Masters. The planet would not survive another brush with the Dwarf. This
time, the turbulent planet would burst open and spew its magma heart into space.
Nothing could survive, not the descendants of those who had come in the Ship, not
the Sentinels.
He had fallen into a deep reverie. It was a combination of the heat and the
dusty stillness of the plain. The Picun had found its own way deeper into the Schwarm
crop. He was a few hundred meters from his companions, quite close to the rim of the
old crater which housed the Crag Caverns. Before he realised what was happening, a
half dozen riders emerged from beyond the ridge. They wore jet black Kous, hooded
against the pounding heat.
Kane had no sense of danger, the meeting was inevitable. The riders slowed to
a halt in a semicircle around him. They inspected him like a quarry which had been
finally run to earth. He stared back, mildly interested. A grey cloak in a half circle of
black cloaks.
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QUETZAL'S FLOCK
CHAPTER 6
It was only later, when he had had time to recover from a fit of the shakes
which the encounter brought on, that he realised that the inner man had assumed
control in the crisis. His three Body Companions were too far away to be of any help
to him. He slide down from the back of the Picun, which moved off to browse, and
faced the semicircle of riders. They copied him, sliding down expertly but holding on
to the reins of their mounts with one hand.
So far, there had been no sign of hostility but then, they crouched in a kind of
battle stance. Kane Ashford might have felt fear, the inner man was coming forward
and he faced the potential threat with exaggerated calm.
He knew that this was not his time to die. It was not his destiny to be
slaughtered in yet another incident in an ancient blood feud. It did not matter that the
six had drawn short swords and were moving forward slowly. Their intention was
unmistakable. Kane stood shrouded in his grey Kous, with his arms folded across his
chest and watched them. They hesitated, suddenly suspicious of the nonchalant
attitude and his apparent disregard for self preservation. They looked around, Kane's
Body Companions were nowhere to be seen, they were hidden by a low rise.
They came within a half dozen paces, crouched ready for the kill. Kane slowly
loosened the tie of the Kous and they stopped again. He flung the Kous off his
shoulders and let it drop to the ground. The heat hit his naked flesh and the Pentacle
gleamed above the target area for their swords. The shining artefact seemed to
mesmerise them. They stopped dead and the swords wavered. They fell to their knees,
naked fear replacing the ferocious killer lust in their eyes.
33

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Power surged up within him. He extended his arms from the shoulder and
pointed to them. They flattened themselves to the ground, their faces in the purple
dust. He heard a shout from the distance. It sounded like Motya raising the alarm.
Kane took no notice.
"Stand up! Quetzal does not talk to backsides!"
They got to their feet and exchanged glances.
"Give my greetings to Eridos, Tepe of the Black Cloaks. Tell him, that the one
he has awaited through the long days, has come. I am Quetzal, who is one with those
who are to be obeyed. Tell Eridos that he is to lead the Gens of the Black Cloaks by
the way of the ocean shore, to the place of the Great Arch. Tell him, that I, Quetzal
command of him - peace! The time of the Enmity and the Battle is to end. Tell him, to
disobey will be to earn my wrath and the wrath of those who are to be obeyed!"
He could hear the desperate pounding of the Picun hooves as they were urged
on by his frantic Body Companions.
The power within began to subside, Kane began to feel desperately tired.
Hammadi, his face set in fury and anxiety, was storming towards them, closely
followed by Dagh and Motya. The six Black Cloaks were at a disadvantage and would
have been slaughtered. Kane roared out a command.
"Stop!"
Enough of the inner power remained to make it effective.
"Put up your swords! All of you - obey me!"
There was a moment's hesitation and then they obeyed.
"These men are to leave in safety - there will be no pursuit - is that clearly
understood, Hammadi?"
Pressing home the point was more than necessary. Hammadi was his father's
son and his father was not noted for obeying orders. The three Body Companions
glared fire and hatred as the black cloaked band retrieved their mounts and slowly
manoeuvred them out of the clearing. Their leader gave Kane a final salute. They rode
off slowly, in a studied expression of disdain for Kane's champing warriors.
He had no doubt that his message would be carried to Eridos. It would be
interesting to see how much he would comply. The Black Cloaks receded across the
plain in the opposite direction to the pinnacles which marked the Crag Caverns. Kane
picked up his discarded Kous and swung it across his shoulders. He felt as if he had
received a terminal dose of sunburn. His exhaustion increased, the inner man always
sapped his energy. Hammadi enquired anxiously.
"Are you unharmed, my father?"
Kane nodded, too tired to speak.
"Sons of Sharta! They might have killed you, my father. I deserve to be beaten
to allow you to come into such danger."
"Frankly, Hammadi, I wouldn't have the energy to beat you - even if I had the
inclination. Take me back to the caverns - and on the way, explain the Enmity."
Hammadi was almost incoherent.
"Sons of Sharta! Filthy followers of the upstart Eridos! Lord of the Black
Cloaks - I spit on him!"
He did so, noisily and with expert precision, on to the topmost leaves of a
neighbouring Schwarm bush. Kane expected the foliage to sizzle and die from the
venom. He was mildly surprised that it didn't. Dagh took up the explanation.
"The Black Cloaks always attack the Grey Cloaks. When they saw my Lord
alone, they thought they had a perfect victim. Why didn't my Lord cry out? They
could have killed you Lord Quetzal!"
34

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Kane shook his head.
"I am not destined to die on Jubal, Dagh. It was necessary for them to find me
alone. I gave them a message for Eridos. It was the will of those who must be
obeyed."
They fell silent and then caught up with his wandering Picun. They made their
way back to the caverns at a slow pace. Kane had had enough of the great outdoors.
He looked up at the red star and its increasing prominence. He had the feeling that
there was a lot of hard riding to be done in its heat, before he was much older.
It was good to be back in the coolness of the flare-lit caverns. He was almost
willing to ignore the constant tremors and trickles of dust which shook down from the
walls and roof. He was shaking from reaction but he didn't let Hammadi see it. Soon
after, Nijah brought them food. For once, Kane didn't have much of an appetite. He
picked at it and listened to Hammadi's casual question.
"Are the other visitors still here, Nijah?
"No, Lord Hammadi. They left in great haste, when they realised that you had
also left."
"They followed us?"
"It is possible, Lord."
Kane interjected.
"Were they wearing Black Kous?"
There was an awkward silence. Hammadi said softly.
"In the Community of the Wraiths, one is not measured by the colour of the
cloak, my father. This is neutral ground, all men of Jubal may come here without fear
of the Enmity. This is one of the few Places of Sanctuary."
Nijah looked pathetically relieved that he had not been called upon to provide
the information. Kane answered abruptly.
"You must remember that I have no memory of your customs."
There was another silence. His lack of memory was another embarrassment. It
wouldn't get better, he would meet people who would know him from four thousand
years in the past. He would have formed relationships with them, perhaps intimate
ones - and he would not remember. The meeting he dreaded most was with Ajanta. He
asked the inevitable question.
"When will I meet the Tepe Obeid - and the Tene Ajanta?"
Hammadi brightened up.
"As soon as my father wishes to make the journey. It will take two of your
alert periods to reach the Encampment."
The ball was in his court. All he had to do was to give the word and the next
links in the chain would be forged. He had no reason to delay - except for his dread of
meeting the woman who had mothered his son and whom he had deserted four
thousand years earlier.
"We will start after the next rest period."
The three young men brightened up considerably. It was good to please
somebody. Kane had hoped for an early night, it was not to be. Urartu wished to
receive him once again. No doubt, word had been carried to him that the Lord of the
Flock was about to depart from the Crag Caverns.
The Master of Dreams greeted him with deference and gestured to the pile of
hides across the brazier. As always, it took time for him to express the reason for the
interview.
"My Lord of the Flock is destined to seek out his Brother of the Cloak and his
sister, the fair Ajanta."
35

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"That is so, Master of Dreams. It is the desire of the man within."
"It is not solely his desire, although he has been active in this period you call a
day. You, Kane Ashford also wish to seek out Ajanta and Obeid and in so doing, you
will be burnt with desire and the consequences.
Eridos will receive your message and he will obey, not because he fears you or
respects you or the Masters of Psi - but because he is curious and thinks he can take
his revenge at the appointed time.
Before you start on your long journey, it is proper that you are Awakened into
an understanding of the Legend of the Sentinels. From that understanding, it may be
that Quetzal will preserve his Flock!"
The old man fell silent and stared into the flames of the brazier. They flared
higher and Kane began to see visions and hear voices.
In the heart of the brazier, a young man was braced against a bulkhead which
leaned at a crazy angle. His face was tense with fatigue and hopelessness. Kane heard
the words he was dictating into a voice log.
"Recording these words is a fruitless exercise, I don't expect anyone will ever
have the chance to hear them, I suppose I'm doing it to push the reality away. We have
been told the worst but it wasn't unexpected. We shall never escape from this place
and unless we are found by a rescue mission, we will die on this planet. As for the
rescue mission, that would depend on whether our message reached some distant
satellite in the tenuous network that was supposed to link us to base. My own
pessimism and sense of foreboding tells me that this is unlikely.
We are here for two reasons. First, like the commission of the mythical
Enterprise, we were to go where no man had gone before. Secondly, a component that
would cost a penny in an electronics store failed at a critical moment. It isn't supposed
to happen. It can't happen - but it has.
When we came out of whatever exists between the stars, travelling as we did,
we found ourselves close to a binary system. We were saved from plunging into the
primary by a sheer astronomical fluke - the primary had a planet and everyone knows
that is impossible. If we could tell them, they would have to rewrite the textbooks -
but I guess, we wont be telling them.
Our orbit decayed rapidly and our landing was heavy, so heavy that we were
lucky not to breech the outer skin. I said lucky - I wonder, perhaps it would have been
better - quicker - to have burnt up. The ship stands tilted at an angle. We live on a
constant slope. Everything slides. Maybe that is why the scientists elect to continue
with their field studies on this atrocity of a world. Any excuse to get away from the
constant gradient. Two are away now, crawling around in 4G gravity, suited up against
the methane and wading through a fine purple dust and trying to avoid the razor sharp
branches of what goes for growth on this hellhole - good luck to them.
It's hard to be objective about this place. Everything shakes and trembles,
There are no greens or blues, that part of the spectrum seems to have gone missing.
The ground is fine dust - purple dust, a great deal of it is always in suspension, stirred
up by constant hurricane force gales. Scattered around the landing site are huge
growths of leathery leafed purple-grey shrubs, standing twenty or thirty feet tall and
here and there are forests of crystalline skeletons - I suppose they could be called
trees. Most of them are over a hundred feet high. It's hard to see beyond them, even
from the top of the ship."
.....
36

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
The brazier flared up and the scene changed and so did Kane's perception. He
was attuned to something which was beyond his capability to grasp. It was like a
pulse which surged with the renewal of knowledge and ebbed out to the furthest point
where it became the possession of - something.
He saw all that was around him from a high place. He looked up and became
aware of the great red giant star hovered protectively above its magenta planet. The
planet trembled as gravitational tides surged in its core. A gentle wind fanned swaying
tresses of Schwarm, cracking seed pods and cascading the next cycle's harvest to the
super-heated soil. In clusters across the vast plain, silicate skeletons of dead Myrc
forests shattered themselves against each other, in a sparkling shimmer of refracted
light. He was almost motionless in the buoyant thermals of the superheated
atmosphere - then he knew what he was!
A Sentinel floating watchfully!
A dust eddy skirled lazily far below, stirring the Schwarm bed close to an eggwomb.
The Sentinel dipped in flight and descended protectively, but the disturbance
passed. Far across the plain, other Sentinels kept the same vigil. The egg-womb lay
apparently dormant, grey pink in the skeletal remains of its ancestor, but within,
cramped and quiescent, the Hatchling waited to emerge. His eyes were now open, the
curved inner surface of the shell glowed pearly pink. The Sentinel gently probed into
the Hatchling's mind, as he had done so often during the patient wait - warmth,
encouragement, comfort - all flowed from the collective mind of the Flock, into and
through the Sentinel. They called to the new life, awakening the instinctive desire to
emerge.
The Hatchling pierced the membrane of the air sac and drew his first breath,
and then in a reflex action, stabbed the smooth inner surface of the shell, and then
again and again, as the tough silicate structure resisted his efforts and his only breath
grew stale. In a final blind despairing thrust, he broke through and sagged exhausted
against the small opening he had created.
The watching Sentinel hovered easily, a minimum of effort holding his great
body high in the atmosphere. From this elevation, he saw the alien creatures
approaching through the Myrc forests. This was a regular pattern which had been
repeated over and over during the long day of Hatching. They would approach and
then after a period of inactivity close to the egg-womb, they would return back the
way they had come. He watched their clumsy movements, and the Flock watched
through him, probing tentatively into their minds. As always, they met thick darkness
and incomprehensible thought patterns - there was no contact, mind with mind.
These aliens had come at the beginning of the Hatching cyclic period, when
the great red star had reasserted its dominance over its planet and it was time for the
emergence of new life. The Flock had learned little from the contact, except for the
presence of an utter mind barrier. These creatures preferred to crawl in the dust of the
plain, even though their coming had seared the atmosphere and shattered thousands of
crystalline Myrc trees.
Their structure was a further oddity. It was outside of the combined knowledge
of the Flock. They were wingless, unless you could call wings, the puny appendages
sprouting from the grotesque area of their upper torso - and yet, they were biped,
which made them different again from the Krain. On the whole, the newcomers had
proved themselves to be harmless and early clumsy efforts to capture members of the
Flock, had been easily evaded and contemptuously ignored.
The Sentinel wheeled lower and idly circled the slowly moving creatures - the
Flock urged caution. There were two of them, stumbling unsteadily over the uneven
37

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
ground, clumsy and shapeless, with a great crystal bubble for a head. They moved
close together and this was yet another example of their distasteful habits. Objectivity
demanded that his natural repugnance be quietened. They were approaching the eggwomb
but stopped short, half hidden in the Schwarm. The Sentinel again experienced
distaste - even the intimacy of the Hatch aroused no sensitivity in them. They were
watching intently but appeared to intend no harm.
The Flock, through the Sentinel, poured encouragement and protectiveness
upon the occupant of the egg-womb, washing over and ignoring the alien darkness
pouring out from the minds of the two watchers. The Hatchling gathered his strength
rapidly, as the sweet Schwarm-scented air seeped through the ruptured shell. As yet,
only the small initial opening communicated physically with the outside world, but
the urging and prompting from the great composite mind of the Flock, encouraged
him to widen the tiny slit and soon a larger piece of the shell dropped outward.
The alien watchers grew excited at this - strange mental waves battered against
the susceptible mind of the Sentinel. He swooped lower, now in uncomfortable
proximity to the watching bipeds and the egg-womb. One of the bipeds pointed
upward to him, actually touching the other. The Sentinel felt the revulsion of the
Flock, who saw through his eyes. The second biped levelled one of his tiny wings in
the direction of the great avian and a moment later, a blast of heat and energy seared
into the junction of one of his great wings and his body. The Sentinel fought his death
agony and lost control of his helpless wings, but after a moment of disbelief, the
Flock-mind controlled his, guiding his shattered body into a death swoop, which tore
one of the fleeing bipeds apart and crippled the other. The dead Sentinel crashed into
the red dust of the plain.
.....
Kane gasped and drew back from the brazier flame. He had felt the impact of
the laser like a physical blow - but something had taken over - it wasn't the inner man.
It was something which still persisted in the heart of the brazier flame.
.....
The Hatchling saw nothing of what had happened, but knew it all and shared
in the appalled anguish. The Flock had now to reappraise the strange visitors. The
invitation pouring into him was now an imploring. He flexed his cramped body
against the retaining shell. It cracked open suddenly, falling into two jagged halves
and he staggered on unsteady legs out on to the red dust within the silica skeleton of
his ancestor being. This he viewed with no sentiment, instead he braced himself to the
drying breeze which circulated under his wing folds, freeing them from the sticky
residue of the embryonic fluid.
He began to gorge on the succulent schwarm foliage and when his immediate
hunger was satisfied, he paid heed to the urging of the Flock and stretched open the
great wings and tried them, feeling the life and power and Knowing from inherited
knowledge. He leapt and soared upward effortlessly over the hot plain, testing his
wings, hovering and plummeting, developing that control that would fit him to be a
Sentinel for the remainder of the Hatching Cycle.
Already the bloated red star was low on the horizon, its monstrous shape
distorted almost to an ellipse and its colour darkening. The atmosphere of the great
planet was growing cooler and the number of remaining Hatches would be few and
his time as a Sentinel would be short.
38

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
The Flock-mind was not clear on the subject of the aliens, for each individual
contributed to the total consensus. The stark fact of the alien's belligerence was a new
and ominous factor and the eddies of opinion swirled across the Flock-mind, some
placating and others angry - revengeful. The newly-hatched received the urging to
examine closely the remains of the bipeds and although he shrank from such intimacy,
he obeyed the injunction to land close to the creatures. The Flock shared his disquiet
but they had to know more of the strange newcomers.
The small cloud of dust he raised filtered slowly down again. He waited
patiently for the pink haze to clear and then, avoiding the scorched and crushed
remains of his own kind, he carefully drew close to one of the shattered bodies. The
strange creature was a crumpled wreck, for the dead Sentinel's talons had scored great
gouges deep through the outer skin. A dark liquid had flowed and the transparent head
dome had splintered. He observed, without emotion, that this shell contained an inner
head, now broken - but it had been much smaller.
A black mental wave assaulted his own perception - the other creature still
lived! He turned to it. It too, was crumpled and had limbs broken but the outer skin
and the head shell were not damaged. The creature was watching him and the shock
waves of blackness intensified. He examined it more closely and quite gently stirred
the distorted lower limb with his beak tip. He jerked back, startled by the intensity of
the mental wave and the writhing of the inner head. Where the beak should have been,
was a great open hole, which seemed to have vestiges of an inner beak. With a shock,
he realised that the creature was making noises! His revulsion almost overcame him
and the Flock-mind stirred in sympathetic nausea.
He recovered himself and moved forward again to tap the hard head shell
gently with his beak, as one does to help the unhatched to break out of their eggwomb
on those rare occasions when this became necessary. It held firm and the
creature stared back at him though the transparency, its stupid gaping hole vibrating
from the noises it was emitting.
There was a welling up on compassion within the Flock-mind - a coalescence
of opinion - pity it - end it! The Sentinel obeyed, he drew one taloned claw down the
belly skin of the creature - it was the quickest way. He jumped back as a gush of alien
gas seeped out and the creature shrank visibly. The alien twisted and convulsed, the
black wave of its mind reached a shrieking peak and then abruptly ceased. The avian
stared at it but it no longer moved and so, he spread his great wings to front the
thermals and soared back high above into the purpling sky. The incident was closed;
The Flock had gained in knowledge and had witnessed the vulnerability of the aliens.
39

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
CHAPTER 7
His way led high over the thin carcass of the strange, mute avian, which had
rent open the sky when it had brought the outsiders. For all of its noise and
disturbance, it had landed badly and leaned at a crazy angle on one damaged leg. The
aliens had hatched from its belly and had spent much of their time apparently trying to
heal the damaged limb. Originally it had been the intention of the Flock to encourage
the shining bird to repair itself but like those who returned into the aperture from
which they had hatched, it had proved unreceptive to the mind probes of the Flock. A
strange aura emanated from it, repelling any attempt to soar close.
The newly hatched Sentinel hovered far above the silver bird. The aliens were
engaged in a new pastime, for now they were fanning out in a widening arc from the
base of it, in a thin line which would eventually bring them to the broken bodies of
their own kind. In the mind of the Sentinel, there was no connection between the
earlier circumstances and this. In the understanding of the Flock, they noted only
another strange activity, which was set amongst many others.
.....
The brazier flame ebbed again and Kane leaned back, he was sweating
profusely - but it wasn't from the heat of the fire. The image of the young man
reformed.
.....
40

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"They have just brought in the bodies of the field party - two of them. They
didn't die pleasantly. What a stupid thing to say - who does? We all want to live but
we won't for much longer if this hellhole of a planet has its way. The medics tell us
that Foster died after Jensen. Jensen must have caught the full force of one of the
birds, he was quite a mess. Foster was executed - that is the only description for it -
executed! The birds hadn't worried us after we had got used to them. Apart from being
curious about us, they seemed harmless. Now we will have to re-evaluate. Field
studies have been suspended for the time being.
The scientists have got a little more to add to their mine of useless
information. The birds stand about thirty feet high and the beak is about six feet in
length. The talons are each two feet long and there are three on each foot. One of the
talons ripped open Jensen's suit - The egg has hatched - They didn't meet the chick on
the way back to the ship, which was just as well. It must have been a nervous trip for
all concerned."
.....
The Flock mind reasserted itself and Kane was caught up into it. The Sentinel
soared higher and the detail of Myrc and Schwarm melted into indistinctness. With
slow measured beats he rode the air currents, scanning the vastness below. It was
unlikely that he would ever again visit the scene of his own Hatch. It would be as
circumstances and the Flock determined.
A low escarpment, which had somehow survived the titanic forces which had
all but levelled the remainder of the land during the Migration cycle, rose jagged and
red black, far below. The Sentinel was in an empty sky and nothing moved on the
plain. Tentatively, gently, he probed with his mind and found a solitary egg-womb.
The response of the unhatched one was shy.
The Hatching proved to be inordinately slow but the Sentinel hovered
patiently in the deepening purple sky. From time to time, he poured encouragement
and confidence upon the motionless egg-womb but he knew that a Hatching ought not
to be hurried, even though the air was cooling and it was becoming increasingly
difficult to find the thermals upon which he rode. The protracted period of the
Hatching Cycle was drawing to a close. The great world hardly turned upon its axis,
presenting one hemisphere to the red star. Its orbit was elliptical and complex,
governed by conflicting forces.
Soon the Migration would start. The Flock became restless as always, urging
preparation. Much time was spent gorging Schwarm. Siliceous Myrc was consumed
in far greater quantities than was usually required for digestive purposes. Instinctively,
the Flock accumulated against the time of starvation.
There was some danger to the slowly hatching egg-womb, for parts of the
escarpment were collapsing as the planet trembled increasingly. The Sentinel knew, as
the Flock knew, that this heralded the coming of the period where none could come to
rest on the quaking world. The Hatchling was encouraged more urgently and he
became more responsive.
.....
The image of the young man returned into the flames.
"Now I am sure we are going to die on this world, a rescue ship couldn't get
here in time. The seismologists tell us the obvious. Seismic activity is on the increase.
41

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
We don't need the experts to tell us this, the ship is swaying like a skyscraper in a
hurricane. The old man is worried, the ship's tilted at such an angle that it won't take
much for it to topple. When that happens, we're done for. How long can we be
expected to survive in suits? If the ship falls and ruptures, our life support can be
measured in hours. It might not be ground movement which causes the damage. The
winds are increasing. No one can go outside, even on a lifeline. We sit inside and look
at each other and try to pretend everything is going to be all right."
.....
The Sentinel braced against the freezing atmosphere. The great star, now
elongated and distorted, lay low on the distant horizon. The planet was at the farthest
point of its erratic orbit and from the night side the frozen atmosphere thawed into
great clouds of almost liquid gas, to explode in violent storms on the side nearest the
star.
The Flock was already moving, those in the higher latitudes passing far
overhead, slowly beating out the distance to the equator. It was fortunate for the
Unhatched that the egg-womb did not lay in those higher latitudes, even so, it was
almost too late when the Hatching began.
The red giant's companion heralded its approach by a vast tidal wave of
activity on the bloated sun's surface. A great solar flare belched in an incredible arch
of incandescence from the equator of the red giant, but to one side, as if reaching out
to encompass a hidden something. A sombre red light flickered and flared, creating
grotesque writhing shadows across the plain. Even the smallest outcrop was
highlighted. The Sentinel hurried the Hatchling, persisting in an urgent mind pressure.
The Flock was in full flight, streaming towards the equator and yet laterally as
well, away from the solar prominence, trying to get the curvature of the planet
between them and it. They crossed from the land out over the vast shallow ocean that
encircled it. Magnetic and electrical storms crackled in the higher latitudes, producing
the huge towering thunderheads which would sweep down across the path of the
Flock.
The Sentinel moved his great wings more rapidly to offset the increasing
storm winds. The Hatchling emerged uncertainly but then, as the Sentinel poured and
focused the mind of the Flock into it, it began to browse on the scattering Schwarm
foliage which was being torn away from its shallow roots and tumbled over and over
in a wild tumult of dust and bracts.
It was time to go! Never in all of his recycles had the Sentinel migrated so
late. The red giant was almost ruptured by its increasing prominence but now, beyond
this flare of gas, was a brilliance, intensifying, contrasting the tenuous gas of the flare
so that it stood out starkly; and then, as the intensity grew, revealing other and
previously hidden flares. A thin, incredibly white limb of incandescence appeared on
the shoulder of the red giant.
The ground began to ripple and pulse with core surges and the planet
shuddered in its orbit. The shallow ocean responded to the dense gravity of the white
dwarf, a great tidal surge reached out and then dropped back to surge over the land. It
was the end of the strange silver alien and the bipeds it carried.
Only once in their life cycle did the Flock ever see the coming of the Dwarf.
The planet's orbit and the counter balance of forces were nearly matched - except for
the one period of perturbation, when the white dwarf sat on the shoulder of its red
binary - and this was the period of Migration.
42

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
The Sentinel and the new Hatchling were already battling the shrieking air
currents, trying to climb higher to get over the storm. The Dwarf stood clear of the
Giant and vast waves lashed across the plain below, now all was ocean. The planet
rocked and its core tides surged, cracking open the thin outer crust and pouring white
hot magma to boil the ocean.
The Flock was bathed in a ghastly brilliance. They were suspended in it, their
wings battling the turbulence. All concept of movement and relative speed had
ceased. They could have been hovering almost motionless. The horizon between sky
and ocean had ceased to be.
The Sentinel knew that his companion was weakening. The Hatch had been
too late and the limited feeding coupled with the energy sapping chill of the
atmosphere, was having the inevitable effect. The Flock knew and poured out
encouragement upon the stragglers. The Hatchling began to lose height, descending in
a shallow glide towards the turbulent ocean. The Sentinel projected an urgent
warning, willing his companion to battle upward again.
Slowly, the Flock crossed the face of the planet, away from the direct glare of
the white dwarf. Within them the dwarf's intense radiation cut like laser surgery into
their reproductive organs. Genetic patterns for the next generation were established.
Slowly, the orbital forces changed and the red giant began to impose its bulk
between its planet and its companion star, but it took a long time to subdue the forces
that had been unleashed. The Flock suffered casualties. Some of those who hatched
late, faltered and eventually dropped exhausted into the black waters of the ocean.
Others drifted too close and a long thin tentacle whipped up accurately and drew them
down. The Flock met the enemy once more, through their drowning eyes. The
casualties grew and the Sentinel's companion was one of them.
Those who survived, battled the screaming turbulence of the storm. The heat
was sapped from their bodies in the ice and methane blizzard and more fell into the
seething waters. The Flock-mind supported them all, encouraging, warning, urging -
they had to survive - they had to regenerate - the storm would pass - the land would
reappear - the waters would become quiet. They had to struggle a little longer; fight
the cold; cheat the Krain. Live!
The great cycle turned and the red giant gradually took control once again. A
quarter of the lifespan of the avians passed and slowly the Dwarf continued outward
and away from its companion star. A redness tinged the pearl white opaqueness of the
sky - like a dawn.
Still, their great wings held them aloft. Their strength ebbed, their flesh was
almost gone and they had the appearance of great skeletal birds of prey. The reservoirs
of fat stored for the time of starvation, were spent - and they truly did starve.
The waters receded gradually from the scoured land and the planet drew
nearer to its red parent. Warmth stirred the skin and bone of the avians. The wind
grew gentle and the air heated. Bursting with a fecund urge, tenacious seeds of
Schwarm and Myrc began the renewal, almost visibly growing in the steamy marsh of
sodden land. Still, the discipline of the Flock held. They starved but none could
browse on the erupting shoots of succulence, for if they landed, they would never
again win free of the sucking mud.
The Flock-mind was a scream of hunger, weakness, dying, failing. Caution!
Caution! Wait! A little longer - Some fell now but not into the ocean. They struggled
fitfully with their last strength in the red morass. Gradually but certainly, the wind
dried out the land and the red sun pumped out heat. At last came the moment! Eat -
Nourish! Live! Live!
43

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Wearily and slowly, the great birds wheeled on the gentle breezes and dropped
down to settle on the moist ground. Like grey ghosts they were swallowed into the
pink tinged mist shrouding the new rich Schwarm and silver Myrc. They feasted and
gorged and the great red star warmed them.
The miracle of regeneration began, for invisible changes started deep within
them, as they once more fleshed out their depleted bodies. The oldest of the previous
Hatching were the first and then in the subsequent order of the hatching. The
irradiation from the white dwarf responded to fresh radiation from the red giant - and
thus it was that the mechanism of regeneration began. A follicle burst and an ovum
was issued which spontaneously divided, being already fertile and into its genetic
patterns was laid the image of the Flock, with all its inherited knowledge. In some
cases, more than one ovum generated and thus, the casualties they had suffered would
be replaced by twin hatchings.
Those who were to regenerate later, assumed the task of Sentinels, watching
over those in gestation. As the egg-womb grew in size within the breeders, they rose
into the air less frequently. A fundamental change took place in their thoughts. They
now focused their minds and being into the new life maturing within them and while
they continued to consume vast quantities of Schwarm and Myrc, it was not for their
old being but for the new.
The old being was no longer groomed and became increasingly unkempt.
There came the time when the egg-womb they carried had increased to such a size
that they no longer chose to move. They basked, bloated with fat, their bodies
distorted by the huge egg-womb, in the lurid light of the red star.
The Sentinels watched over the Breeders, soaring high and free over the plain
- in the future it would be their turn, for a new life stirred within them also. The eggwombs
grew monstrous. The Breeders could no longer move to browse - however,
they suffered no starvation pangs, for their being was no longer the carcass
surrounding the egg-womb. Within the hardening shell of silica was where their
regenerated life stirred. The outer carcass died and decayed until only the skeleton
remained.
The silver avian and the strange bipeds were an interlude that had intruded
upon one cycle and now were no more than a memory held within the composite
mind of the Sentinels.
The Flock soared high above the plain in the heat of the great red sun, waiting
and calling and encouraging the Unhatched.
.....
The vision faded and Kane returned to reality. He stared across the flames into
the eyes of the old man. He read compassion but there was something much deeper.
"The telling of the vision was enhanced by the presence of the Lord Quetzal."
Kane nodded absently, reality still hadn't returned.
"Who were the men in the alien ship?"
Urartu eyed him steadily.
"An incident recorded in the Mind of the Flock."
Kane swallowed.
"They looked like - my kind."
"Are you sure, Kane Ashford?"
"Right at the beginning the crewman mentioned an ancient legend of my
people - the Enterprise Legend - It can only mean that they are my kind."
44

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Urartu continued to stare relentlessly.
"Does that trouble you, Kane Ashford?"
"Sure as hell it troubles me! How long ago did this happen?"
Urartu shrugged slightly.
"That is not known, the Dreams are not subject to chronological time."
"There is something else - "
"Yes?"
"The people on that ship - they were oxygen breathers!"
"That is so, Kane Ashford."
"He mentioned - a methane atmosphere!"
Urartu nodded. Kane's throat was dry.
"I am an oxygen breather! I would die within seconds in an atmosphere of
methane!"
Urartu nodded.
"That became obvious when the Sentinel ripped the surface suit of the one
who encroached upon the egg-womb."
Unreality was threatening to swamp him. Kane managed to stammer.
"How can I be alive?"
"With the Masters of Psi, all things are possible!"
Kane stared into the flames.
"The crewman said the Schwarm stood thirty feet high and that the Myrc
forests were a hundred feet high and the Sentinels stood thirty feet high also. When I
rode on the plain, I didn't see that."
"What is your question?"
"Why does everything seem smaller?"
"There are two possibilities. The first is that those whom we have seen in the
Dream were much smaller in stature and therefore, everything appeared enlarged to
them - or, the second may apply. I will ask you a question to answer a question. On
what do you base your measurements? Is it possible that you have changed in physical
size to suit the conditions of this world? If you can breath methane, is it not possible
that you have been adapted for the extreme conditions you are experiencing and the
persistent 4G gravity, which does not trouble you? - Remember, with the Masters of
Psi, all things are possible!"
The inner man was very quiet. Kane sensed him watching intently, for once,
there was no hint of amused tolerance.
"I will show you another Dream."
Kane stared into the flame. This time, he walked from a bed chamber on
Lynxe into the great Temple of Taxila. He laid himself into the centre of his magnified
Pentacle image imbedded in the floor and aligned himself to the outstretched limbs
and the placement of the head. He looked puny, insignificant against it. At first, there
was no apparent change, everything was quiet in the darkness, but then, his physical
self extended slowly to fit the great image. He became its size and then arose. The
vision faded and was gone.
"With the Masters of Psi, all things are possible!"
It was beginning to sound like an incantation.
"You are learning slowly, how impossible it is for Kane Ashford to rebel
against those who must be obeyed. The Lord Quetzal, with great tolerance, is
allowing you to be schooled slowly. Do not try his patience, my friend!"
"That sounds like a threat, Urartu!"
45

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"An observation, my friend. The Masters of Psi are those who must be
obeyed!"
He had heard that expression too often! He changed the subject.
"After I have slept, it is my intention to go to the Encampment of Obeid."
"For this reason, I have shown you the Legend of the Sentinels - so that you
may begin to understand that the Lord Quetzal has a special relationship to his Flock."
Kane looked into his eyes, they seemed to pierce through him. Urartu smiled.
"Did you imagine that Lord Quetzal's Flock referred to the Picun?"
The smile widened.
"No! But, I thought it might mean your people!"
"A poetical concept, but inaccurate."
The audience was at an end. Urartu seemed to recede within himself and the
mists of the Wraith Chamber boiled closer to enshroud him as Kane walked from the
cavern.
Before he slept, he thought over the visions he had been shown. The hopeless
face of the young crewman haunted him. He knew he had come to the end of the line
but still, he persisted in making his futile record. He could never have imagined that it
would survive the coming of the Dwarf in the way that it had. It was an uncanny
coincidence that the ship carrying the present occupants of the planet, had been
stranded by a similar clumsy landing. He wondered suddenly, if the wreckage of that
ship still existed. Perhaps, the passage of twenty thousand years had obliterated all
traces of it.
He slept at last and he had no disturbing dreams until he was awakened by
Nijah. His three Body Companions arrived from their quarters. He sensed that they
were eager to make a quick start. He deactivated the Bole and ignored the curiosity of
Dagh, when he declined the offer to carry it to the outside and load it on to a spare
pack animal. So far, he hadn't elected to introduce the men of Jubal to the Bole. Some
inherent caution made him keep its capabilities under wraps.
He took his time to be especially courteous to Nijah. The old man was,
without a doubt, one of the greatest crawlers of all time, but he had served him
without apparent treachery. It was better to leave a potential friend than an enemy. He
positively glowed under the appreciative words and nearly dusted the path of the
Picun as they left.
A little way along the path which led through the crops and when they were
well out of earshot of the farewelling party, Hammadi collapsed into a roar of
laughter. Kane eyed him cautiously, there was always a possibility that he was
showing a portion of his anatomy which was normally kept hidden. Hammadi wiped
his eyes.
"My mother told me of your sly way with words. She said you could charm a
Sentinel from the sky and he would settle on your wrist. That was how you seduced
her!"
46

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
CHAPTER 8
Dagh exploded into a hoot of laughter which he quickly smothered. Kane
glared at him. He turned to Hammadi.
"I have no recollection of seducing your mother - either with sly words - or by
getting her to settle on my wrist! My methods of seduction involve other practices!"
"My Lord Quetzal is reputed to be versatile."
Kane felt like clouting his son round the ear.
"Hadn't you better watch where we're supposed to be going!"
The humour evaporated as Hammadi became businesslike. He detailed Dagh
and Motya to ride flank along the ridges of the dunes. It was a different pattern from
their inward journey. Hammadi explained.
"With those sons of Sharta, the Black Cloaks around, you can't be too careful."
"They are well on their way back to Eridos."
"And how far away is Eridos? he could be just over the next rise, waiting in
ambush."
"Eridos is a long way away. My message was, that he was to go to the Great
Arch by the way of the ocean shore."
Hammadi looked at him with sharp interest.
"My father has set the trap for us! Obeid will be interested to know where we
can hit the bastard!"
"You won't be hitting any bastard! I told Eridos that the Enmity and the Battle
are at an end. That goes for Obeid as well. What in the name of Sharta goes on
between you? Isn't it hard enough to survive on this godforsaken planet, without
carrying on a petty war between yourselves?"
47

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Hammadi's face was set like a rock. Kane knew the mulish expression, he'd
seen it enough times on his own face in the mirror. He softened his next question to be
conversational.
"I suppose it all started as some sort of minor disagreement which got blown
up out of all proportion?"
Hammadi's response was explosive and poetical.
"If you call black hearted treachery, minor! I find it impossible to believe that
you know nothing about the Enmity and the Battle!"
"Hammadi, I swear on oath! I remember nothing!"
"You remember nothing about the accursed, Tepe Siyulk?"
Kane shook his head. Hammadi's anger was still at boiling point.
"You killed him! I find it hard to imagine that you can't remember a man you
killed with your own hands! I always remember them afterwards, when the heat of
battle is over and I realise that I've snuffed out another life!"
"I'm getting confused - Urartu mentioned that Siyulk was killed by a boulder -
and now you say I killed him. You'd better start at the beginning."
"Where is the beginning? You alone, know the beginning. When you came to
us at the time of my conception, you had already met the Tepe Siyulk - you were
already enemies. It was for this reason that Obeid first welcomed you into the
Encampment. If you were an enemy of the Tepe Siyulk, you had to be our friend. In
this way, you became a brother to Obeid and the lover of my mother, Ajanta."
He continued after a little pause.
"The Tepe Siyulk has always been your enemy. He was one of the original
ones, they who landed the ship and who found that they couldn't rise again. You knew
Siyulk when he was a young man - perhaps when he was my age. You knew him on
the Ship which travelled between the stars in the service of the Masters of Psi!"
"How old was he when we met on Jubal?"
"He was already eight days."
Sixteen thousand years old! When he had been the same age as Hammadi,
Kane had met him on the ship which was travelling between the star systems -
perhaps, seeding planets with intelligence. That would have been at least twenty
thousand years earlier!
"Go on."
"The Tepe Siyulk was a renegade - a traitor who seized control of the ship
after it had landed on Jubal. The true commander of the ship was the father of Obeid,
he was named Tursac. He directed that all resources of the ship were to be used to
effect repairs. He knew the danger posed by the Dwarf and the unstable nature of
Jubal. Siyulk argued with him, he wanted it differently. He wouldn't accept the
decision.
He seized control and plundered the ship of vital components. The Picun had
been released from their cold-sleep and were browsing around the vessel. He took
most of them and with a band of followers, struck out over the plain towards the Place
of Heat. The remainder of the crew nearly died and had to suffer voluntary starvation,
so that they did not eat the seed which had to be sown for their first crop. It was a time
of great hardship, but they did survive. From that time, there has been the Enmity and
the Battle.
When the loyal ones had restored their strength, they set out to punish the
traitors. That was the first battle, it was fought on the plain in great heat. They were
close to the Place were none can live. Siyulk had thought himself to be safe there. The
Tepe Tursac led half of his force through the fringe of the Place of Heat and surprised
48

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
Siyulk. They killed a great number of the traitors and recaptured many of the Picun,
together with the critical components from the ship. Siyulk escaped with the remnant
of his band into the depths of the Place of Heat."
Kane stopped him.
"This Place of Heat - What is it and where is it?"
"The Place of Heat is where the our sun is right above our heads, my father.
The Place of Heat moves slowly across the plain and we must always move ahead of
it. We must be careful to remain between it and the Place of Cold and Night, that too,
moves slowly. It is a region of great storms of wind. I have been there with Dagh and
Motya. The flocks must move between the two. The Encampment of Obeid moves ten
times in a day, sometimes more, if we are threatened by the Black Cloaks."
"What happened to Siyulk?"
Hammadi's answer was grudging.
"The Sharta escaped! He was a great leader - this can't be denied. He led the
remnant of his force into the Place of Heat and though the Grey Cloaks watched for
many heartbeats, they managed to elude them."
Kane was silent for a while.
"And you say, I killed this Tepe Siyulk?"
"He was your enemy, my father. He tried to take your life - and you heaved a
boulder on to his head."
Kane sighed, he had killed a sixteen thousand year old man. It was quite an
achievement for a puny oxygen breather. He pushed the thought of atmosphere from
his mind. Hammadi went on.
"It was then that Eridos took over as leader of the Black Cloaks. Eridos was
Siyulk's son. Tursac, my mother's father died in a skirmish soon after and Obeid took
command of the Grey Cloaks."
It added a new dimension to his relationship with Eridos. His Brother of the
Image was the son of a man he had killed! Kane cursed the convolutions in
chronology which created the situation that he had not only visited Jubal four
thousand years previously, but that he had been a traveller on the ship which had force
landed four or five thousand years before that - and it was all still to happen!
"Why do you wear different coloured cloaks?"
"It was the colours used on the ship. The Tepe Tursac was the commander, he
wore a cloak of grey. The Tepe Siyulk was the Navigator, he wore a black cloak."
It was that simple! As simple as falling off a log.
"Have there never been any attempts at reconciliation?"
Hammadi paused and answered carefully.
"There have been attempts. The last time, was when the Lord Quetzal was
here at the time of my conception. It ended when the Tepe Siyulk was killed!
We had made an encampment at a place where great rocks were piled. Each
side came with their arms - but they brought their women and children as well. It was
a way of showing that they did not intend warfare. At first, all went well, there were
negotiations, everyone was on their best behaviour. Then, some of the young Black
Cloaks started to molest our women. You grew angry and tried to call them to order.
Eridos laughed in your face and you slapped him! Then, Siyulk chased you into the
rocks, swearing that he would cut off your - er - balls! It was soon after, when he had
you cornered, that you picked up a large rock, there was a violent earth tremor and
threw it down on him. It crushed his head and he fell down the rock wall. He was
dead when they reached him.
49

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
His death took the fight out of his men, they retreated with his body. Eridos
swore to finish what his father had begun. He returned and there was much blood
letting. The dead were buried and the men of both sides took their women and
children and retreated to their own Encampments. That was how it happened, my
father. Not long after, you walked through the Great Arch and were gone. Obeid, my
uncle told me the story. My mother refuses to speak of that time."
"Why did I become so angry - why did I spoil the chance of reconciliation?"
"I do not know."
Kane knew that he did. Hammadi had told of that battle as if it had occurred
yesterday. He kept reminding himself that it had happened four thousand years into
their past. He wondered how a man could hate for that long. How could maintain the
rage during the long centuries? Eridos had sworn to finish what his father had begun.
They had kept their Enmity and Battle raging for nearly twenty thousand years. It
took a great deal of determination to remain that angry. He had no doubt that he had
an implacable enemy in Eridos, his Brother of the Image!
Kane lapsed into a peculiar state of trance induced by the monotonous
landscape of low ridges and pinkish Schwarm against the deeper red of the soil. The
only relief was an occasional clump of Myrc, which was carefully avoided. Hammadi
kept glancing skyward, ensuring that they didn't stray under the patrol area of one of
the great birds. Kane appreciated the respect he showed to them, having heard their
legend. If they could rip a man open with one talon, they would be formidable
creatures with which to tangle. It was necessary to make one or two detours during the
day's journey, to avoid an egg-womb.
He knew when it was time to stop. His thighs were aching from the
requirement to sit straddled on the Picun's back. The animals had a coarse ridge of
bristle along the spine, which had played a great part in his discomfort. His shoulders
were aching from the effort of keeping the riding stance.
Hammadi chose a place to camp which was well protected from sudden attack.
It was in the middle of one of the clumps of boulders, scattered around the plain. They
looked as if they had been deposited by some gigantic stone bird. Dagh and Motya
rejoined them, they had been out of sight for the better part of a hour. They reported
no sign of the Black Cloaks. Dagh added with a shy smile.
"We spoke with the Old Ones. They see far, there is no sign of others on the
plain."
Kane assumed that they meant the Sentinels, it made his scalp prickle and the
inner man stirred in awakened interest. He whispered to Hammadi.
"Are they really able to talk to them?"
Hammadi was defensive.
"Some think they can listen to the Mind of the Flock. There have been some
strange reports, which could not be explained in any other way."
He paused again, looking more uncomfortable.
"Before and during a Battle, we consult those who say they can listen to the
Flock-Mind. They tell us where to deploy our forces - and where we can find the
enemy."
"Do you win every Battle?"
"Not all, my father."
So much for tapping in to the Mind of the Flock!
"I suppose there's no good reason for the Sentinels to favour one side over the
other."
Hammadi looked at him sharply.
50

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"The Lord Quetzal is brother to Obeid - and the Sentinels are the Flock of the
Lord Quetzal!"
Kane didn't have an answer, he was more concerned trying to get his legs shut
back together. The muscles had locked into an ugly straddle.
"Why the hell haven't your people invented the saddle?"
He had to explain what it was.
"We tried, but the Picun didn't like it, it made them sore! My father should use
this on the sore places."
He produced a container of dubious looking ointment. It smelt like Picun
excrement. Hammadi grinned.
"When we use that, we do not come near to each other!"
"I have no intention of coming near to anyone!"
Motya asked with studied innocence.
"My Lord does not intend to share the cloak with his son?"
Kane returned the stare, the last time he had heard a similar expression, it had
been from the lips of a randy Martian miner. Hammadi's face was wooden.
"No, Motya, we will not share the cloak. My father and I are just good
friends!"
Dagh and Motya resumed their flank positions during the next session of
activity. It wasn't long before the sore spots opened again. Kane began to hate the
sight of the Picun. There was only one incident which varied the monotony of the
hours which followed, it came in the form of an excursion. Dagh came cantering in
from his station, which caused Motya to wheel in from the other direction, supposing
that they were being attacked from that flank. Hammadi drew his sword and swore
lurid oaths. Kane started to feel nervous.
The cause of Dagh's reckless approach, was not a call to arms. He had spotted
something rare and interesting. Hammadi would have liked to have pushed on but he
clearly didn't want to dampen the enthusiasm of his friend. They turned aside and
followed Dagh, who maintained an air of mystery. He led them over a ridge and then
down into another section of the plain.
There was a Myrc forest ahead, which Kane eyed with some trepidation. The
Picun were skittish and likely to bolt at the drop of a hat. He didn't fancy being cut to
shreds by shards of silica. They stopped short of the Myrc, turning off into a shallow
decline. Even before they emerged from the high Schwarm, he could see something
different.
At first, he thought it was Myrc, growing uncharacteristically amidst the
Schwarm. Then, they emerged into an area which was almost bald, as if it had been
cropped down to the red soil. Hammadi glanced up at the sky nervously. He had every
reason to do so, but there wasn't a Sentinel in sight.
The skeleton was monstrous and obviously that of a bird. It had died
crouching, with its legs doubled up under it. From the tip of a vicious curved beak, to
the end of the arch of spinal bones, it was fully ten metres. The barrel shape of its ribs
towered above their heads. The wings were spread out, as if it had tried to fly whilst it
was still grounded. Their span, wing-tip to wing-tip, would have been all of twenty
metres.
In the cavity where its guts would have been, were the remnants of a shattered
pearl-pink carapace. The curved segments gleamed in the ruddy light of the star. Kane
tried to assess the size of the egg. It would have filled the abdominal cavity of the
bird, pushing the lights, heart and lungs up into its crop. Conservatively, the egg
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would have been three and a half metres through one axis and three metres through
the other.
It was like a visit to a tomb. They stood in a reverent silence. It was a majestic
sight which represented an equally majestic concept. The parent was destined to die,
so that the next generation could continue the race. The rib arches which remained
reminded Kane of pictures of ancient temples. The flesh had mouldered into the
purple dust to fertilise the forest of Schwarm needed for the Hatchling. In the normal
course of events, the silicate skeleton would await the next coming of the Dwarf and
would be ground down, back into the soil, or washed away when the ocean swept
over the land. The plain would be swept clean for the next life cycle. It was
impressive in its simplicity.
On the next occasions of the Dwarf's visit, it would all end, for it was destined
to end differently. The Dwarf would not simply create the genetic changes necessary
for regeneration. The Dwarf would bring annihilation. The inner man stirred
restlessly. He was seeking a way to preserve his Flock.
Kane thanked Dagh for showing him the wonder. His Body Companion
flushed with pleasure. Kane wondered how a four thousand year old man could still
blush. His gratitude had been sincere, for only two or three times during the thousands
of years of a lifespan, would such an opportunity present itself.
The group moved back on to their original route, stopping on the rise, to catch
the last glimpse of the abandoned corpse. Dagh and Moyta returned to their stations
and Hammadi increased the pace. Kane groaned mentally, it appeared that they were
in for some hard riding to make up for the time lost on the detour. The Picun was an
object of torture which pounded up and down between his legs. He found it incredible
to believe that on Old Earth, they had actually done this sort of thing for pleasure. He
was thankful that he had been born into an age where it was considered to be more
civilised to career around in Skimmers, if on-planet, and Planet Hoppers, if off. At
least, in the normal method of usage, they didn't inflict grievous bodily harm to the
more tender parts of the anatomy.
It was a strange thing, when travelling across a plain as vast as that which
sprawled across Jubal. There was an impression of travelling for hours but coupled
with that was the impression of not really moving. There was nothing to use as a
target. No distant mountain range or any other point of reference. The plain was
simply a succession of ridges, dune after dune of coarse sand and rock, stretching to
the horizon. The Schwarm and the Myrc broke the monotony a little, but after a while,
the drab red tone of everything except the silver Myrc, made Kane want to scream out
for something green, blue or yellow - anything but the perpetual red, even if it did
range from pink to nearly black - it was still red!
Hammadi was still maintaining the faster pace. It was a fair assumption that he
was anxious to get home again. He probably had a mate or two - maybe children. The
thought made Kane kick his heels into the Picun's flank and galvanise it into a faster
gallop. When he had it under control again, he considered the sobering fact that he
might be a grandfather! Hammadi was hardly likely to be celibate, he was after all, his
father's son. A number of women with Hammadi's offspring, threatened to make
Kane the youngest grandfather on record.
It added to his growing apprehension about the meetings which were soon to
take place. Absently, he reached for where the Pentacle usually hung under his Kous
and then he remembered, in view of the outright hatred which existed between Obeid
and Eridos, he had stowed the Pentacle in his bundle of tunics.
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Motya let out a yell which carried across the torrid air of the plain. He waved
an arm which did not have a sword at the end of it. It was a good sign. Hammadi
altered course so as to converge with him. Dagh, on the other flank, turned his Picun
and urged it to greater speed. Motya had stopped and was looking down into the broad
expanse of the valley beyond. Kane pursed his dry lips into a noiseless whistle. The
surface was moving, it rippled. There was a dull roar and the surface shuddered more
than usual. A vast herd was on the move but not at a slow pace. Hammadi looked
critical.
"Something must have spooked them!"
Around the front of the herd, riders were urging their Picun to cut across,
trying to turn the mob. It was like a scene out of hell, a purple dust pall hung over
them all. The riders were shrouded in their voluminous grey Kous, which made them
look like ghouls herding souls into torment. Kane half expected the devil to appear
and then remembered, he bore another name on Jubal. He felt a surge of humour from
the inner man. He was left to wonder whether he would meet the Shaita of Lynxe in
another form, to continue the perpetual battle. If he did, no doubt he would bear the
name, Sharta.
Hammadi and his two companions looked as if they were itching to get mixed
up in the melee. It seemed opportune to remind them of their priorities.
"Where's the Encampment?"
They turned away from the spectacle reluctantly. Dagh answered proudly.
"Always upwind of the dust."
"How far?"
Motya's answer was beyond Kane's conversion abilities.
"One hundred thousand heartbeats!"
"Perhaps, we'd better press on - before my heartbeats silt up with all the dust!"
CHAPTER 9
They skirted round the perimeter of the herd. There was a good deal of waving
between them and the herders. The dust was appalling, it was hard to breath until they
got upwind. They moved on to the area which the herd had grazed. The little
Schwarm which had survived the chomping jaws, had been flattened into the dust.
They increased their pace, the Picun, urged to greater efforts. It added to Kane's acute
discomfort.
Hammadi seemed to have a speciality about arriving at a breakneck gallop.
Kane was reminded of earlier days when he had owned a souped up Skimmer, with
which he drove the tolerant authorities at Mars/4 to distraction. He would shriek into
the vacuum tunnels system, which kept the city air in and the dust laden atmosphere
out, wrecking the carefully controlled seals. One day, they declared war and
complained to his mother. He had been fifteen, or thereabouts and considered himself
an adult. He had, by that stage, tumbled a couple of girls and discovered it to be a way
of life he enjoyed. It hadn't saved him from getting his arse well and truly whipped.
Mother had had a strong hand.
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These things crossed his mind as they hurtled into the Encampment. Dust and
people scattered in every direction. Someone needed to talk to Hammadi about his
manners and remind him that it didn't look very good, having his father clinging to the
short hairs of an excited Picun, with his sore arse waving in the air like a multicoloured
flag.
The three boys repeated their party piece of standing on the backs of their
mounts, whilst reining in their own and one other. Hammadi's muscles stood out like
inflexible ripples. His Kous had blown open and streamed out behind him. He was
laughing, jubilant with four thousand year old youth, uncaring about his nakedness.
Notions of parental correction faded from Kane's thoughts.
The Picun came to a halt and Kane tried to gather his breath, dignity and
Kous, as befitted a man of his standing. The flap of the nearest tent was thrust open
and he was grabbed by one leg, by the man who emerged. The newcomer was as vital
and laughing as Hammadi. There was no mistaking the man who had been shown to
Kane in the flames of the brazier in the Cave of the Wraiths.
Obeid yanked him by the leg. Kane gave a wild yell, lost his grip and his
balance and fell off the back of the Picun. He landed with a bone shattering thud at the
feet of the laughing man. He was hauled to his feet without ceremony, clamped in a
rib crunching bear hug and treated to a vigorous kiss full on the lips. Visions of
brother Ivan flooded back. His sort were littered all around the universe! Hammadi
and his two companions were in convulsions of laughter. Obeid held Kane out at
arm's length and looked him over critically.
"You haven't changed! Still the same old Kane - could be a bit younger
perhaps!"
He must have possessed one hell of a memory. It was Kane's turn. He had a
flash of inspiration.
"You haven't changed a lot either - since the last time I saw you."
It was true enough, the image in the brazier had been accurate. Obeid grinned
and didn't take his eyes away.
"What do you think of Hammadi? Not a bad pup - show's that you and Ajanta
have good genes. I'll never make head or tail of that woman! She refused point blank
to meet you. Said she preferred privacy."
"Hammadi's a wonderful - boy. He's a credit to you, Obeid. I can understand
Ajanta - a few more heartbeats after all this time won't matter."
Obeid grunted and changed the subject.
"I see you're no better a rider. You seem to spend most of your time hanging
on or falling off! Now, Hammadi's a damn good rider - must get it from his mother's
side. A man ought to know how to handle a mount."
A small crowd had gathered and were drawing closer. Obeid changed his
manner.
"So, Lord Quetzal, we welcome your return and trust you will abide in our
tents for many heartbeats."
His tone was sonorous. He gave Kane a prodigious wink and whispered.
"That's for domestic consumption - play it up, man!"
Kane rose to the occasion.
"I thank the Tepe Obeid. May peace and prosperity dwell in his tents and may
his fecundity never decrease!"
Obeid's mouth twitched slightly but they continued to eye each other with
utter seriousness.
"Will my Lord enter my tent?"
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He held open the tent flap and Kane bowed. He preceded his host into the
darkened interior. It was cool and pleasant inside - they had certainly mastered the art
of thermal control. It was surprisingly roomy, with low couches of Picun hide,
grouped around the central space. Obeid joined them, having murmured something to
one of the hovering audience. He loosened the tie of his Kous and flung it in one
corner. He was as naked as a jay.
"You're a bastard, Kane Ashford! Every time we go through that charade, you
best me! Come on men, get rid of the cloaks! You're not outside now!"
Hammadi, Dagh and Motya complied nonchalantly.
"I don't have a tunic."
Obeid eyed him with raised brows.
"What the hell do you want a tunic for? This is a man's session isn't it?"
In the face of that logic, Kane complied. They took to the couches - at least,
they were an improvement to the back of a Picun. Obeid stared at him for a moment.
"What in Sharta's name have you done with the scar?"
Kane tensed.
"Scar?"
"Yes, the bloody scar! From the wound you took in the side. Hell - you were
sick enough! Ajanta just pulled you through. A man keeps a scar like that for life!"
Kane thought wildly.
"Ah! That scar! You've got to remember, I've been to a few places since we
last met. I found someone clever enough to fix it."
It was lame but adequate, Kane could see that his host wasn't satisfied. He was
saved from another inquisition by the entry of two men. They carried a large, gurgling
sack between them and staggered under its weight. They heaved it thankfully, into a
rack suspended from the top of the central pole. Five large pots were produced which
were filled with due ceremony. Each was presented with one.
Obeid raised his.
"To equality."
They all took a swig. It tasted fairly bland and Kane relaxed. Obeid continued.
"Do you remember our old toast, Kane? The reason why men always shed the
cloak in each other's company; equality! No fine clothing - no badges - no rank!"
They settled down for a convivial evening. Great steaming platters of food
arrived in due course. These were washed down with a massive volume of liquid from
the suspended sack. It was a marvellous sack, it didn't seem to deplete, no matter how
much was subtracted from it. They got decidedly merry and Kane was persuaded to
sing. Hammadi wanted to hear the interrupted stanzas he'd started in the bath chamber
at the Crag Caverns. There were twenty five. He remembered them all, which was
total confirmation of the fact that he was pissed!
Kane wasn't aware that the fire water ran out. Perhaps, it didn't. Perhaps, they
ran out of steam. Something happened between the end of the Whorehouse on Mars
and the first, dreadful moments of wakefulness. It took time to assess. He wasn't the
first one to awake. He could hear subdued whimpers and groans. Gentle complaints
wafted on the air. It wasn't all that wafted on the air, the tent smelt like a Picun's
corral.
Kane dragged his Kous round his shoulders and headed for the tent flap. It was
as hot as hell outside but the fresh air cleared his head. It did nothing for the taste in
his mouth - that was another problem. After a while, he went back inside. Hammadi
gave him an accusing look, as if he was to blame for his condition. The other two sat
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huddled in a duet of misery. They didn't look up. Only Obeid seemed to be in a fairly
normal state. Kane had to admire his stamina. Obeid looked at his guest coldly.
"Who are you? You're not Kane Ashford! No scar, no knowledge of our
customs. You swallowed my cock and bull story about shedding the cloak and
equality. That's never been our custom - So! Who the hell are you?"
Kane sighed, life was about to become complicated.
"I am Kane Ashford. I am also Quetzal. This is the first time I have ever been
to your planet."
"Wrong! You're wrong, whoever you are! Two days ago, Kane Ashford visited
us. I loved Kane Ashford like a brother. Do you think I imagined it? If you weren't
here two days ago, you're not Kane Ashford!"
"You've changed your mind since yesterday, Obeid."
"Yesterday! Yesterday! What the hell is yesterday?"
"Yesterday, was before that drunken stupidity which still seems to have
lingered in your fat head!"
It probably wasn't the wisest thing to have lost his temper. His head was trying
to split open and he was having trouble getting his eyes focused.
"Stupid am I? I'll have you screaming another tune, when you're hanging by
the balls! Then, you will start begging me to let you tell the truth!"
"For a so-called leader of a supposedly scientific race, who were reputed to
travel between the stars - and could, by a stretch of the imagination, be termed
intelligent - you must be one of the crassest morons to be conceived. Think carefully
before you answer, Obeid. Do you want to tangle with the Masters of Psi? I warn you,
touch me and you will feel more than a touch of their tongue!"
Obeid was white to the lips with fury. They locked stares and Kane knew that
neither of them could afford to look down. He felt as if his eyeballs were about to
peel. Kane felt naked, suddenly conscious of the absence of the pentacle around his
neck. If the Masters of Psi were going to help him, he hoped they didn't need the
catalyst of the artefact. Kane invoked the inner man, he could feel him watching with
languid amusement. It was his turn to open a channel, so far, the inner man had
dictated the terms, now Kane felt it was his turn to open the channel in the other
direction.
He threw off the Kous and Obeid stared coldly. Kane felt a growing lightheadedness,
it was hard to tell whether it was significant or a residue of the drunken
stupor from which he had awakened. Quetzal emerged and took control, he folded his
arms across his chest and his glare intensified.
"I am Quetzal and you will obey me."
Obeid's lips tightened into slits.
"Do I have to show you the power of Those who Are? Do you dare to try their
patience?"
The digit finger on his right hand began to feel hot, yet it was as cold as ice,
like the rest of him. The temperature outside would have to have been in excess of 50
degrees and inside, about 30, but Kane felt cold. Obeid clutched his left ear. Kane
continued to glare at him relentlessly. Obeid's ear began to get very uncomfortable.
Hammadi and his companions decided to take a hand. They rose with short swords in
hand. The power emitting from Kane's left hand threw them back on to the hides. He
didn't look at them. Obeid began to sweat - he groaned.
"Stop it! You son of Sharta! Stop it!"
Kane slowly lowered his right hand.
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"Does that convince you that my Masters are to be obeyed? Be glad I didn't
focus on your left testicle!"
He was still spitting fury.
"It proves nothing except you have a trick power. It doesn't make you Kane
Ashford and the man I loved more than a brother!"
Kane found his mouth shaping the words of a tongue he didn't know. Quetzal's
voice softened. The angry glare in Obeid's eyes faded. He looked bewildered and then
answered in the same language. Kane didn't understand but Quetzal did. He moved to
Obeid's side and touched the wounded ear and then embraced him.
Quetzal started to recede, back into his role of the watchful lodger. Kane
started to shake like a leaf in the wind. His teeth chattered and Obeid eyed him with
growing concern.
"By the gods, Kane Ashford, you're a strange individual!"
He gave a sharp order to Hammadi.
"Don't sit there, boy! Get your father's Kous!"
Hammadi moved gingerly. His look was a combination of awe and caution.
The jolt of power he had taken must have been quite something. He draped the Kous
around his father's shoulders. Obeid waved to the door.
"Take your comrades and leave us."
Hammadi looked doubtful but obeyed. Obeid turned to Kane who was
beginning to emerge from the fit of the shakes.
"You had no idea of what happened, do you?"
Kane shook his head. He didn't much care what happened next.
"I thought so. You spoke the language of the Home World. There are few who
know it. It was the secret tongue of my father and all the commanders of the Fleet. We
have always had our Siyulks, the whole operation of seeding the worlds seemed to
create rebels and malcontents. The Commanders of each ship, and they alone, were
taught the old language by those you call the Masters of Psi - the Unmentionable.
They spoke to me through you and I answered them, through you. It does not concern
you what they said to me, or I to them. Sufficient to say, I accept you as my brother,
Kane Ashford!"
Kane nodded, he was exhausted. Obeid pushed him back on the couch of hides
and left him to sleep.
He dreamed of Maia. He was home again, in the broad rolling lands of Lyot.
He walked in the fields under their yellow sun and smelled the rich odour of the damp
soil. He watched the Scarn labouring in the broad paths which ran between the rows
of the oil-crop. Hairy brutes bent to their task. It was as it had been before.
He walked through the door of a rambling house. A child ran to him and held
out his arms to be lifted. He swung him up and he laughed with delight. Maia came,
she was laughing and teasing him over something. He kissed her a little too
passionately for the time of day and she ducked away laughing.
The dream changed and they were laying on their bed and she was stroking his
hair. He wanted her and murmured her name. Her hand seemed to hesitate for a
moment and then it continued its gentle stroking. He was between waking and
sleeping; between the familiar room and something different. He whispered.
"Maia."
The hand stopped and lifted from him as he opened his eyes. The inside of the
tent was almost dark. The light of the red sun hardly penetrated the hide walls. The
woman stood a little way from the couch. She was shrouded in a Kous and her face
was in the shadow of its hood. Kane swung his feet around and sat on the side of the
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bed. She pushed back the hood slowly. His heart started to thump, there could be no
mistake, it was Ajanta.
"Obeid warned me. He said it was not you!"
Kane jerked back in surprise, she had spoken in Solari. It was the first time he
had heard his tongue in the weeks and months since he had been snatched away from
Mars. She continued doubtfully.
"Is it really you, Kane?"
He found his voice.
"Yes, I am Kane."
It sounded inadequate - it was inadequate! She eyed him critically and he
could feel the tension building.
"You told me, during our last night together, when we both knew that you
would go through the Arch on the following day, that you would not remember when
you came again. I could not believe you, Kane. I have remembered, my love - even
your funny expressions about night and day. I have remembered - everything -
through two long days - my days!"
Kane tried to recover ground.
"Ajanta, I - "
His voice faded away and she interrupted.
"I wonder how it is possible not to remember our love."
Her voice was wistful.
"I never went to another man, Kane. I kept myself for those two long days. I
had many offers, many fine men who wanted me. You were my first love and my last.
Tell me, what do you think of our son? I gave him life in loneliness and grief, because
you were gone and I had lost you. He would never know his father - or so I thought.
What do you think of him?"
"Ajanta - He is a wonderful man. I could think of no one finer."
"You are kind, my lord. For his character, you must thank Obeid. He took your
place as a father. It was what he promised you when you embraced in farewell at the
Arch."
"I wish I could remember!"
He toyed with the idea of trying to explain to her that he had never met her
and that one day, he would meet her and that they would then conceive a child who
was now a man. It was in his future and he would be able to tell her of the present
time. What he couldn't do, was tell her of the passion she had experienced with him -
it had yet to happen. They stared at each other, helplessly entangled in a time knot
fashioned by the Masters of Psi.
Her face softened a little and she reached out her hand and took his. He tingled
under her touch. He knew himself too well. It would be very easy to fall for this
beautiful, eight thousand year old woman! She murmured.
"Poor, Kane. We know all about amnesia, it happens to us too. Someone gets a
knock on the head and they lose their memory."
He seized on it as a rational explanation and felt a mean bastard for doing so.
"Perhaps, you can help me to remember."
She nodded and continued to hold his hand. They stared at each other in
silence. She had a mane of black hair but he couldn't see how long it was, it was
hidden inside the Kous. She wasn't like Maia. Maia was golden, tanned and feline.
Ajanta was typical of her race, high cheekbones, thin nose, deep, black eyes, a full
mouth. In the half-light of the tent, her skin was dark. She broke the silence and asked
softly,
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"Who is Maia?"
He fumbled for an answer.
"Maia is a very special person."
She searched his face.
"She must be very beautiful - she is a very special person to you."
Kane swallowed and desperately fumbled for a way of escape. He
remembered a solemn injunction in an ancient book which had stated: 'The truth shall
make you free'.
"Maia was my - wife - on Lynxe."
"Was? Still is, surely! How many children did you give her, Kane?"
"I left her - pregnant."
"Ah! You left her as you left me! Poor Maia - "
Kane started to feel one hell of a bastard. It was not a comfortable feeling and
when he wasn't comfortable, he got angry and started to bluster.
"It wasn't my idea to run out on her - or you!"
"You can't go back. Your heart is there, but you have no way to return. Poor
Maia, poor Kane. You told me once of the hardness of your Masters - your Masters of
Psi. I couldn't understand then - not until you went away and I knew the loneliness
and the interminable heartbeats of two days. There were times when I longed for
death to release me from the death in my heart, which came when I could no longer
hear your voice or touch your hand. I would hold Hammadi to me, pretending that he
was you - until he grew old enough to understand. I longed for the hours of love you
gave me and I forced my body to wither into dryness, because you were not there.
But, my darling, now you have come again and I am more dead than I was
before. I had hope, I thought I would feel your arms around me again - just as it was
once. I thought our bodies would reach out for each other, as if nothing had happened
during the separation. I see now, that it cannot be. I was wrong to think I could hold
you. You were never mine to possess - even in thought. You are not your own master,
others command you. Another woman has claimed you and you have given her a
child.
Perhaps, this is the way it will always be. On whatever world you are placed,
you will leave your seed. I can understand that, it is something my race has always
done. It was the task of those who rode the star ways in their ships. It was our way
also, before we were trapped on this world."
He stared at her speechless and embarrassed. She smiled gently.
"So, my darling, I let you go! You are no longer bound to me. I release you."
She was gone quickly, moving so fast out of the tent, that he didn't have a hope
of stopping her. He wasn't sure that he wanted to. He sat on the couch of hides and felt
very sick. Every woman he touched had reason to regret the day.
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CHAPTER 10
It was time for a little honest reflection. He was not proud of his history with
women. Back on Mars, there had been Candice. He had treated her as a receptacle for
his lust, a convenient place to call when he wanted to satisfy his appetite. In hindsight,
he realised that she had loved him, but he had been too selfish to recognise it. Things
might have been different if he had regulated their relationship and had established
Permanency with her, despite the objections of his mother. He wondered what had
happened to Candice during the upheaval of the civil strife. Perhaps, she had
eliminated by the Cartels. He had never taken the trouble to find out.
On Lynxe, there had been Hara - poor, rustic little Hara. She had had a body
like a goddess and had thought that he fitted the local concept of a god well enough
for her to sacrifice her virginity on his altar. He hadn't told Ajanta about Hara - and the
child she also had conceived.
Maia had loved him and had allowed him to conceive a child. He had walked
into the sky from Taxila's Leap - and that was the end of Maia. Ajanta preceded them
all by four thousand years. In the recent few moments, he had crushed four thousand
years of memories and hopes and had smothered her love. He took a good, hard look
at himself and could make no promises that he would be a better man in the future.
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Maia had once said that he would have to be a eunuch before he could ever fulfil a
promise never to lay another woman in lust. As usual, she was right. He knew that at
some time in the future, he would return to Jubal and would meet Ajanta again. He
would give her a child who would be Hammadi. What a mad, bloody business it all
was!
He felt his chin, he had three day's growth of beard. It was time to submit to
the attentions of the Bole, but he was reluctant to do so. No one had shown any great
curiosity about the metal cube he insisted in lumping around Jubal. He decided to
forego the shave until he had greater privacy.
Obeid returned to the tent soon after. He gave no indication that he knew what
had happened between Ajanta and Kane. He was friendly enough but there was a
reserve which had not been there previously. The situation had the feeling of what
happens when two people meet after a long time and there is the expectation that
things will continue as they were left off. It is never the same. Four thousand years
was an immense time span and one of the parties had no knowledge of previous
events. All in all, the reunion with Obeid and his sister, was developing into a disaster.
Tensions were building. It was Obeid who suggested a solution.
"Hammadi tells me you're interested in the Ship. I can't think why the hell you
want to see it again. Your loss of memory must be total!"
So, he had been talking to Ajanta!
"I don't remember a thing about the last time we met. I'd like to see the Ship.
Is it far?"
"Of course the bloody Ship isn't far! Do you take me for an idiot? We always
keep ourselves between Eridos and the Ship!"
"Why?"
"I thought that would be obvious - even to an amnesiac! To prevent the bastard
from gaining control of it, of course! Hammadi can take you. You can start after your
pathetic rest period."
They ate a quiet meal in Obeid's tent before Kane settled down to sleep. Ajanta
didn't put in an appearance. The frivolity of the previous occasion wasn't repeated.
Fire water was provided for the purpose of washing down the food, but that was all.
There was little conversation and Kane found himself isolated in the general
discussion about neutral things; how much flesh the herd was putting on; the quality
of the Schwarm. Contentious matters were avoided. Kane caught Obeid eyeing him
critically once or twice, but he chose to ignore it.
Kane was left in sole possession of the tent. Obeid made himself scarce
without a word of explanation. Kane wondered if he knew something and had decided
to give him privacy. He kept himself awake, expecting a visitor but eventually, he fell
asleep. He was undisturbed and he wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not.
Hammadi arrived whilst his father was trying to gather his wits and his
possessions. He was very patient during the exhibition of senility. He was already
dressed in his travelling Kous. He watched as Kane strapped the Bole on to a spare
mount but made no comment. He must have wondered why Kane was lugging a
useless looking metal box across the face of the planet. Kane sensed he was going to
have need of the Bole. In all the manipulations of securing it on the Picun's back, he
forget his personal bundle.
There was no great send off. Kane felt a little piqued, he didn't even qualify as
a nine day wonder. They left the Encampment and were soon swallowed up in the
dust and the pink foliage of the Schwarm desert. He was beginning to develop a lovehate
relationship with the terrain. It was a fearfully inhospitable place to wander.
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Totally unforgiving for the unwary but it had the ability to capture the mind. It was so
timeless, so worn down that one had the impression of moving through the decaying
tissue of the planet, as if the cells of its inorganic self, were sloughing off the surface
as every breath of wind sucked up the dust, or sent cascades of seed flying in the
wind. It was terrible and beautiful, in the fullest sense of the words.
They travelled fast and without conversation, as if Hammadi didn't have the
time, or didn't trust himself to speak. Kane wondered if he had spoken with his mother
and hoped they wouldn't become alienated, if he had. He kept quiet, knowing that it
wouldn't be wise to raise the subject. He would have to wait until the ulcer burst of its
own accord.
Once more, the sense of remoteness and isolation enveloped him. Kane was a
cocoon within the Kous and the outer heat. Hammadi rode a few paces to one side,
but it was as if he wasn't there half of the time. It was a kind of self-hypnosis, a trance
state. The kilometres passed steadily under the sure feet of the Picun. Kane's was well
behaved and he suffered less discomfort than on the previous journey. Eventually and
abruptly, Hammadi reined in. It was the first time he had spoken in hours.
"We will camp."
He had chosen a familiar configuration of boulders on a slight rise in the
ground. He had shown no sign of caution during the ride. They were alone, with no
riders patrolling the flanks. The herd and the Encampment of Obeid were between
them and Eridos. They shared some hard tack.
"How many rides will we have before we come to the Ship?"
"About ten!"
Kane's eyes widened. Obeid had suggested that the Ship was quite close.
Hammadi continued.
"We go by way of the night line - my father expressed interest in it."
The night line! If Kane's memory served him correctly, that was an area where
boulders were hurled around by the forces unleashed by thawing air rushing from the
night side of the planet! It was on his lips to protest that he hadn't expressed THAT
much interest, but he shut his mouth. It would be an experience - something to tell his
grandchildren - if he survived! The thought of grandchildren made him look sharply
at Hammadi. It was a question he hadn't asked of his son. Kane turned his thoughts
back to the prolonged journey, perhaps Obeid had suggested the wisdom of a long
absence from the Encampment.
Hammadi had lapsed into silence again, thoughtfully chewing on the end of a
stick of hard tack. They were shrouded in their Kous and squatting amidst the
boulders. Their Picun grazed, hobbled, a little distance away. Above them, a few
Sentinels wheeled, far distant from each other. Others were on the move, soaring high,
as if restless at the show of solar flares from the red giant. The inner man stirred,
perhaps, he too was being stirred by the precursor of the coming of the companion
star. Kane broke the silence.
"This is a strange and hard world, Hammadi. You would know nothing else,
nor would any of your generation. Do you have any records to tell you about the
Home World?"
Kane thought he wasn't going to get an answer, but it turned out to be a
deliberate pacing of the conversation.
"The Master of Dreams has shown us the Home World. It is very different to
this and very strange to us. There were so many things we couldn't understand and he
couldn't tell us what they meant. Sometimes it was like a fantasy - "
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His face had become briefly animated. Then the excitement died away again.
Kane groped for the right thing to say.
"Between those who are supposed to love each other, there should always be
openness."
Hammadi stared into the dust.
"Was there openness between my mother and you, even though you once
shared a great love? Did you think of the long days she has waited for you? You threw
her love back in her face! Is that openness?"
He sounded angry, bitter, idealistic - and definitely not four thousand years
old.
"What do you know of love, Hammadi? I suppose you've had many women. I
would be surprised if you hadn't - perhaps you've had more than me. Does that
surprise you? If I could only explain the real circumstances - you wouldn't be
surprised!"
"Try me!"
Kane hesitated and then, very carefully, spelled out the circumstances which
surrounded his visits to Jubal. Hammadi listened without interruption. His eyes
opened wide, when it came to the subject of their relative ages and the paradox of the
time knot. When Kane finished, Hammadi was quiet for an even longer period than
usual before answering.
"How can it possibly be that I am older than you, my father?"
The bitterness was gone and a great deal of the hostility.
"We measure time in a different way. Journeys through the Psi do not have to
be in chronological order - that's the paradox. I meet you now for the first time, on my
first visit to Jubal. We both know that is a paradox, because I was here before,
otherwise you wouldn't have been conceived. On the other hand, I know I will come
back one day - in your past - so that I can meet your mother, fall in love and create a
child called Hammadi!"
In all probability, he was more bewildered than when they had started. The
important thing was that there had been a thaw between them.
"I'm going to sleep - have a good rest."
Kane rolled himself in the Kous and did a little thinking before he dropped off
to sleep. He couldn't get Ajanta out of his mind. Her deep, dark eyes haunted him. She
was a beautiful woman and in other circumstances, there was no doubt that he could
have loved her. The other circumstances would arise - but not on this visit to Jubal.
Kane looked at their son, squatting hunched up in his Kous. He looked like one of the
Sentinels, crouched on the ground with its wings draped around it.
Kane was shaken awake, when it seemed that he had hardly rested at all.
Hammadi seemed in a better humour. Kane eyed the hard tack resentfully.
"This stuff is as tough as leather!"
"It travels well - that's why we use it on our rides. It gives us a lot of energy."
"It's jaw breaking!"
"Are your teeth loose, my father?"
Kane glared, it looked as if the concept of their relative ages had gone over his
head.
"I am not approaching senility!"
"Then, act your age, my father!"
The next stage of their journey was a repeat of the first. The broad expanse of
redness, dust, Schwarm and occasional clusters of Myrc, never varied. The red star
was on their rear quarter. They were moving diagonally, across the plain. On Solar
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planets, it would have been called a north-easterly direction. Kane had already
assumed that the Arch, Obeid's Encampment and the Crag Caverns, were in the higher
latitudes of the planet, away from the torrid Place of Heat where nothing could
survive. It was a simple deduction, the red star hovered on the horizon, which
indicated the higher latitudes.
They were going even higher, towards the pole. He could appreciate the
reasoning behind Tursac's decision to land the ship where he had. His monitors would
have told him of the surface temperature ranges. He had chosen the optimum landing
place for a quick survey and had clearly intended lift-off again to continue their
journey between the stars. Kane wondered what had happened. What factor had
prevented the lift-off?
It had been enough to trigger Siyulk into rebellion. He had used the Place of
Heat as a convenient refuge when things had gone against him. In the intervening ten
thousand years, the relative positions of the opposing forces had been maintained.
Obeid had said that his side had stayed close to the Ship. It was a stand-off, Obeid
was dedicated to preventing Eridos from gaining control of a vessel which neither of
them could repair - and if they could, neither of them had the skills to use. He put the
question to Hammadi when they camped again.
"Why does Obeid guard the Ship so jealously?"
"Because you told him to do so! When you were here before."
Kane stopped chewing momentarily.
"Why did I do that?"
"You told Obeid that you would be back before the time of the Dwarf! You
told him that you would be able to repair the Ship!"
Kane nearly choked on a partially masticated chunk of hard tack.
"I said what?"
"You said you would repair the Ship."
Kane felt like weeping.
"Why the hell would I say a thing like that?"
Hammadi shrugged.
"If you don't know - we don't know."
Kane's mind performed gymnastics.
"Did I have the Bole with me?"
"The Bole?"
"The metal box - that thing!"
He pointed at the unloaded luggage and hoped the Bole wouldn't take offence
at being described as a thing.
"Obeid didn't mention it. What is it anyway?"
"I'll show you when we get to the Ship."
It was enough to send his mind racing through the options. The inner man had
said that he would lead his Flock through the Arch. Four thousand years earlier, Kane
Ashford had promised to repair the Ship when he returned. It looked like a conflict of
methods - the Arch versus the Ship. It was of little consequence when evaluated to the
promise. Kane Ashford was to be instrumental in saving the population before the
next visit of the Dwarf! The paradox returned, Kane Ashford, four thousand years
earlier, on his second visit, had made the promise - and he ought to have known what
he was talking about.
The nagging question persisted. If the Tepe Tursac had been unable to repair
the Ship because of that which had been removed by Siyulk, then how was Kane
Ashford going to manage the task? The presence of the Bole was hardly confidence
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building. The Ship would have a computer a million or more times more powerful
than the Bole and would be a product of a technology far advanced to that of New
Earth. If that computer hadn't been able to repair the ship, the Bole wasn't going to
make that much difference.
There was yet another factor. The size of the population who had to be
evacuated. Twenty thousand years was adequate time for a lot of loving and even
allowing for some deaths, the life span of these people was so immense, they ought to
have multiplied to plague proportions. The Ship would never have been designed to
accommodate such a number - repaired or not.
There was no doubt that Kane Ashford had a big mouth! He had, in all
probability, been as pissed as a newt when he had made the repair promise. It was
reasonable to assume that something would be forgotten after four thousand years. It
was just his luck that the people of Jubal had total recall.
He finally slept but it was fitful. Hammadi eyed him thoughtfully.
"My father did not sleep well?
"You can say that again."
"My father did not sleep well?"
Kane looked at him sharply but he was quite serious.
"I feel foul! I smell! Every time I open the Kous, I feel sick. I need a shave -
How do you people keep clean on this obscenity of a world?"
"We wash."
"What do you do, take a dust bath?"
He had a momentary vision of a Sentinel doing just that.
"There's plenty of water. We always camp at the rocks and there, is water."
He pointed to one side. Kane risked a severe case of sunburn but it was worth
it. Hammadi produced an evil looking blade from his bundle and proceeded to give
him a shave. Kane presumed that he couldn't trust his ageing father not to cut his
throat if he was left to his own devices.
They pressed on across the plain. It would take another two days to reach the
region where the night began. Hammadi was filled with energy, which didn't seem
natural at his age - his actual age. After the disturbed night and despite the refreshing
clean up, Kane felt fit for nothing. Hammadi kept up the regulation pace. Kane
became more and more aware of the painful truth that though the people of Jubal
might look human, it was completely external. A different clock controlled their
existence.
It might have been his imagination, but it seemed that the atmosphere was
getting a little cooler. He squinted over his shoulder at the red star. It looked lower on
the horizon and darker. Hammadi had emerged from his hood.
"It grows cold. See how the sun is hidden behind the rising dust?"
Not by the wildest stretch of the imagination could it be described as cold.
Kane kept his peace and nodded. The cooler air was a relief, as the hours passed it
cooled even more. The sky ahead went through colour changes, from the fiery red
through to a deepening purple. The wind became stronger and they had to brace
themselves against the fine pall of purple dust that scudded up with each gust. Their
pace dropped and by the time they camped, Kane was thankful for the thermal layer
of the Kous. Its insulation worked in both directions, it kept the heat out - and in.
They deviated from the direct line towards a great tumble of boulders. This
was a place of echoes, but it provided relief from the persistent wind. Hammadi
pointedly showed him a pool. It was steaming and smelt mineral. Kane tested it
carefully and looked around, it was a comfortable temperature and sheltered. He
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stripped off the Kous and waded in. Hammadi followed suit. It was impossible to
sink. It was invigorating and the soreness in the muscles melted away. Hammadi
grinned.
"I always come here when I go to the Ship."
Kane jerked into alertness.
"I thought there wasn't any interest in the Ship."
"Obeid has brought me here many times - to teach me."
"Is there anything to teach?"
"Obeid has passed on the Knowledge."
"What knowledge?"
"The Knowledge of how to work the Ship."
He looked as if he was confiding a great secret.
"You know how to work the Ship? Do you mean, that you know how to pilot
her?"
"Her?"
"On my world, we always call a ship, her."
"Why?"
"Damn it! I don't know! You can really pilot the Ship?"
"Theoretically, my father. The Ship is non-functional. That is the word Obeid
used."
"Just what is wrong with the Ship. Was something damaged beyond repair
when it landed, or what?"
"The Ship is dead! You have to see it to understand."
"I can't wait!"
Kane was bursting with curiosity. What had he meant by dead? It sounded like
a mixture of half forgotten space terminology, correlated with the shattered hulk of a
Picun.
The question was probably academic. It came back to numbers. The Ship
would have accommodated the original crew, with a certain factor allowed for a
carefully controlled breeding of the crew members. The people of Jubal would now be
numbered in their millions and probably, scattered across the viable areas of the
planet. Kane wallowed around thoughtfully, whilst Hammadi waded to the side and
stationed himself on a rock shelf. Kane joined him.
CHAPTER 11
"How many people live on Jubal, Hammadi?"
"How many?"
"You must be hundreds, maybe thousands of millions."
"I don't understand the word millions."
Kane leaned back. It wasn't possible that they didn't have a numbering system!
Hammadi had been taught the Knowledge. You couldn't pilot a ship without
calculations.
"You are one - and I am one - that makes two."
"You mean - the Enumeration!"
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"I've heard it described more simply! So - What is the Enumeration of the
people of Jubal?"
"We are not many - perhaps ten to the fourth power."
Kane was not all that good at mental arithmetic, he left that sort of thing to the
Bole. It took three attempts and he still came up with ten thousand.
"That's impossible! You must have a population greater than that. You've lived
on Jubal for nearly ten days. You told me that your gestation period is very short and
so is your childhood. You're adult long enough to produce thousands of children in a
lifetime. You must number more than ten to the fourth power!"
"Not so, my father. It's true as you say, we do have a long adulthood, but we
don't have that many children born. Our women have the power to wither. It is a
capability built into them by the Masters, so that the Ships of the Fleet did not become
over-populated during the long journeys between the stars. They do not conceive
unless they desire to do so. The discipline of the Ship still applies, the numbers are
strictly limited, so that only those are born which we can feed. We love our children.
We love and merge our bodies with each other, but we do not breed!"
Kane let out his breath slowly.
"I admire your self discipline. Was it like that before the Ship, on your Home
World?"
"The Master of Dreams did not know. We have wandered between the stars for
so long, that our memories of the Home World are only legends."
It was awe-inspiring, almost frightening. These people were still governed by
the discipline of a ship which made an unplanned completion of its journey twenty
thousand years earlier. They had been one ship of many. A fleet which had a purpose.
Perhaps one of the others had touched on a blue-green planet orbiting a small, yellow
sun and had left their seed there, before continuing on their endless journey.
Had Hauptmeier been right after all? Had there been four strains of
intelligence which had resulted in Homo Sapiens? Kane had found the Feline on
Lynxe and Danyk was the classic representative. Now, on Jubal, he had found the
Aquiline, the hawk-like - and soon he would seek out Eridos and face his hatred,
because he was to be the representative of these people.
Kane looked at Hammadi and had the intense wish that it did not have to be
Eridos. Hammadi bore the racial characteristics of his mother's people. The high
cheekbones; the long, thin nose; lips which were firm and even a little thin; a high
brow beneath short, straight hair; small ears, close to the head; his eyes, a little deep
set and certainly dark, even though they were as blue as his father's. Kane sighed,
there had to be a little of him in this grown man who was his son.
Hammadi looked up and found Kane staring at him. Kane didn't look away.
Was it wrong to admire his own flesh and blood?"
"Tell me, Hammadi. Do you have a woman - and children - and even your
children's children?"
Hammadi slowly grinned and looked away.
"Does my father wish to be old so soon? You may sleep quietly. I have not
made you a grandfather - yet! I have a woman, we have loved for over one day, but
she has not given me a child. We had intended to wait until after the long sleep, but
perhaps we will not be given the time. The Dwarf comes soon and we know we will
die with the planet!"
"Not if I have anything to say!"
Hammadi stared at him calmly and said nothing. Not long after, they rolled
into their Kous and Kane stared into the darkened sky. He had no idea how his
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promises would be fulfilled, but he kept making them. The Masters of Psi might have
other plans. Perhaps his purpose on Jubal was not to save its people. The inner man
stirred and Kane wondered what other purpose there could be. Quetzal was going to
save his Flock - somehow.
Towards the end of the next stage in their journey, they came to a place where
they could see the stars. The wind had risen to a howling gale which sucked the dust
into blinding clouds. The red giant was a subdued image through the haze of sand. It
was bitterly cold and it felt as if ice pellets were splintering against their faces. Kane
squinted into the sky and his eyes flooded in protest.
They were on the top of a small rise, looking forward into a purple-black sky.
They braced into the wind. The Picun were unhappy, spooking at every tuft of
Schwarm torn loose from its anchorage. Kane was doing surprisingly well, keeping
his mount in check. Hammadi led the way forward again, towards the blackness. The
nightline was creeping across the plain. Kane could actually its movement. It made
little difference that the red star seemed motionless, bloated and almost obscured on
the horizon behind them, the planet was slowly turning on its two thousand year axial
rotation.
The wind increased in ferocity, they could hardly make progress against it.
Kane wondered when Hammadi intended to stop. He didn't have to prove anything by
going deeper into the night side. Thoughts of flying boulders, tossed around by the
wind, made him nervous. The air was an ache in the lungs and moisture started to
freeze on his lips. Kane shrank within his Kous and tugged the hood closer, it was
ineffectual. Even the thermal capabilities of the Kous started to succumb to the
tugging wind. His body was beginning to freeze and his feet were forgotten
appendages, sticking out on either flank of the steaming Picun.
The animals were terrified, they were out of their element, being more at home
amidst the grazing of the torrid Schwarm beds. It was harder to manage them - and
then it began to snow. It wasn't soft, fluffy flocculent snow, it was a bitter, dry hoar
frost - ice pellets which stung the exposed skin and even penetrated the Kous to
absorb the remaining body heat. The Picun shrieked and sighed and Kane cursed
loudly as his bucked and balked. He could see the tail of Hammadi's mount one
second and then it would disappear.
He had a moment of panic, kicking his Picun savagely, but failed to sight his
companion. His mount shied violently and nearly unseated him. The kick in the ribs
had been the last straw. Hammadi turned back and found him. He loomed out of the
hoar haze and grabbed the bridle. He tugged the Picun around and swore at it above
the wind. He uttered a long, high pitched wail which had the effect of quietening it to
a tremble. Kane hoped it wasn't another variation of the mating call.
They moved a few paces forward and suddenly were in the shelter of what
appeared to be a cave. Further progress showed that it wasn't a true cave, rather, it was
a blowhole in the rock, which led upward to another entrance. The Picun became
quieter as soon as they were out of the shrieking wind. Inside, it was comparatively
still, although it shrieked a tune across the upper opening.
Hammadi dismounted easily and Kane virtually fell to the ground. He couldn't
feel his feet when they touched the floor and his legs sagged like rubber. He hung on
to the short hair of the Picun and began to suffer the agony of returning circulation.
He watched his companion through a haze of pain, not quite believing what he was
doing. He had taken off his Kous and stood naked in the freezing air. He shook out the
cloak and then replaced it.
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Kane didn't have the energy to protest when Hammadi calmly did the same for
him. When he got his breath back again, he had to admit it was more comfortable
without the accumulation of ice crystals.
They had no heat, the hard tack was even harder than usual. It was, no doubt,
frozen. Kane began to have a sneaking suspicion that Hammadi had decided to punish
him for the sins he had committed upon his mother. If that was the case, he could take
full marks. He was being punished!
When they had finished gnawing on the hard tack, Hammadi took him directly
under the upper entrance and pointed. The sky was black and the stars were sharp,
diamond points, piercing the blackness. Kane felt unaccountably emotional, it had
only been a matter of days since he had last seen the night sky over Lynxe. He
remembered the evening when he had looked at them for the last time from the
Thanehold of Lyot - on that occasion, he had shared them with Maia.
Just as it had been on Lynxe, he couldn't recognise any constellations. One
thing was sure, here, the star density was greater. Jubal was much deeper into the
spiral arm of the galaxy. Much nearer to the galactic lens, but he guessed, not actually
part of the central core.
He stared for a long time, submerged in thoughts of Maia and not really seeing
the stars anymore. Hammadi touched him on the shoulder and gestured back into the
cave. The howling sound of the wind was muted. The idea was to try to sleep. Kane
felt it was going to be a fruitless exercise, there could be no sleep, with the numbing
cold penetrating the Kous. Hammadi asked politely.
"Do we share the cloak, my father?"
Kane stared at him in the darkness, his form was a silhouette and his face a
black anonymity. He went on quietly.
"It is a custom among us - especially when we come into these regions. Some
have been known to die of the cold. It shall be as my father wishes."
Kane hesitated for a moment and said carefully.
"It sounds common sense."
The cold was seeping in and he began to doubt whether he would survive the
night. They swathed themselves in the combined thickness of their Kous and settled
down on the floor of the tunnel. At least, it was night, it was dark and the stars were
shining. It was cold and the heat of the red star was vanquished for once. They thawed
in their mutual heat and talked for a while. Kane slept soundly and deeply. Hammadi
went into the meditative state he called rest.
It was strange to awaken into the darkness and the cold air. It took time to
identify the dull scream of the wind and the closer stirring of the Picun. It was a false
illusion of the dawn. If anything, the nightline had crept further from them and
effectively, they were deeper into the cold side of the planet. Kane wondered how far
it was possible to go before the wind rose to an impossible ferocity and started to toss
the rocks around.
He was certain that Hammadi would know when enough was enough. The
mechanics of the air flow and weather system were intriguing. It was hard to
visualise. The night side was a frozen wasteland of utter coldness. The atmosphere
was congealed into an icy slush, yet, even in the space of two days travel, they had
come from a torrid heat into icy coldness. He guessed that the super heated air of the
day-side rose over the ice cold air of the night-side. There would be an immense down
draught, which produced the fierce winds. They had only experienced the fringe of the
turbulence. Beyond this point, the ferocity would be unimaginable.
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Hammadi stirred and they faced the unpleasant prospect of braving the bitter
cold. He had more moral fibre than his father, he made the first move. Possibly, it had
something to do with the four thousand year edge in age. They blundered about in the
darkness and got the Picun organised. They bleated dismally, their bellies empty and
their coats encrusted with ice crystals. Kane was led from the tunnel on the end of a
halter. He didn't feel particularly humiliated, the experience of being lost when they
had arrived, had been a salutary lesson.
Clear of the tunnel mouth, they again faced the full icy blast of the wind, but it
had stopped snowing. He looked upward and saw the full density of the star field. He
had been right, Jubal was almost in the lens of the galaxy. Over the night side, the sky
was a blaze of stars. It was incredibly beautiful and Kane had a sick longing to be up
there once more, piloting a Hopper. His place in the scheme of things was not on the
frozen backside of a warm fronted planet.
The Picun stumbled and moved clumsily, no doubt muscle stiff from the
numbing cold. Great gusts of steam rose from their nostrils and they groaned
piteously. Kane could hear his son crooning to them above the wind, it was the way
the herdsmen kept them from spooking when they drove the vast herds across the
heat-baked plains.
If the people of the Ship hadn't multiplied a great deal during their time on
Jubal, the same couldn't be said of the Picun. The mob he had seen when they had
approached Obeid's Encampment, had filled the plain as far as the eye could see.
Their number had been impossible to estimate. If the herd controlled by Eridos was
about the same size, it presented a problem. Whatever the way the people of the Ship
were intended to leave the planet, they would be unable to take the major part of the
Picun herds with them.
During the following hours, they rode out of the region of night. The Picun
became more manageable and they made good progress, with the wind behind them.
The animals were eager to be free of the bitter cold and didn't need any urging. They
rode towards the red star, whose upper and major part still showed above the horizon.
They didn't retrace the way they had come. Hammadi set a course, in earth
terms, which led to the north-west. It led them out of the region of cold, but when the
time came for them to call another halt it was still freezing. There was no welcome
shelter of rocks on this occasion, although it had stopped snowing. The Picun were
hobbled and turned loose to graze to their heart's content. Kane and Hammadi
huddled in their Kous and chewed their hard tack. It was a miserable place and the
super heated plain seemed almost preferable.
"I'll be glad to get out of this place."
Hammadi slowed down his chewing.
"I thought my father didn't like the heat."
"I don't like the heat and I don't like the cold. I won't be sorry to leave this
world."
Hammadi said nothing.
"Why do you call this place, Jubal?"
He answered slowly.
"It has always been Jubal. Obeid calls it Jubal and so did my grandfather,
Tursac. We are the people of Jubal."
"There must have been a time when it was called something else and before
the people of the Ship came here, they must have been called something else."
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"The Unmentionable Ones must have called us something else, but now we do
not know - it has been lost. Obeid told me that we have always called this world
Jubal, for that was the way it was recorded."
Kane felt a surge of excitement.
"It must mean that your people knew of this planet when they were on the
Home World. On my Home World, we named many of the nearer stars - and even
those which were far distant. Perhaps, those on the Ship knew about this place and
that was why Tursac wanted to investigate and so, he landed the Ship."
"Perhaps - "
Kane fell silent again. Jubal had been known to Hammadi's ancestors, it could
mean that they had come from a nearby star system - but then, there had been the
references to the long journeys between the stars.
"Do you wish to share the cloak, my father?"
The question was put in the same deferential tone as before. Kane could see
his face this time, it wore the same sort of expression one might expect of someone
who was offering a spare blanket. It was still uncomfortably cold and they were more
in the open than on the previous night. They were still in the twilight area of the night
line. It was their social custom and he had no objections. Kane nodded agreement.
The whole effort was an exercise in masochism. Their two bodies were sent
into an abject cringe, whilst trying to wrestle with two Kous in the gusting, icy wind.
The objective was to make their cloaks a double thermal layer. Into this, thankfully,
they retreated. Kane muttered through chattering teeth.
"There must be a better way of doing this!"
Hammadi didn't answer. Kane was glad to see that he also lacked Spartan
qualities. He could feel his back shaking against his. After a while, the shuddering
subsided.
"How much further to the Ship?"
"Another two stages."
There was a long silence again.
"You are very quiet."
"I thought my father wanted to sleep."
"Not particularly. Why do you persist in calling me 'my father'? You know I
would rather you called me, Kane."
"Because you are my father. After not knowing you for two days, why do you
wish to deny me the opportunity to call you by the title of affection?"
"To call you Hammadi is my way of showing affection - I respect your
reasons, but you can also express your affection by calling me by my name.
Physically, we could be brothers, rather than father and son - or even friends of the
same age."
He turned to lay on his back and Kane followed suit. It made talking easier.
"On Jubal, we find no problem looking the same age as our father. In your
terms, our lifespan is long. A father and a son often look the same age. I don't find it
strange to call you my father. I think it is you that finds it hard to be called - father!"
His four thousand year old wisdom was showing. He was right, Kane wasn't
used to the connotations implied by fatherhood. It meant responsibility and that was
something he lacked, if the trail of pregnant women he had left behind in his travels
was any indication. They lay shoulder to shoulder in silence, Kane had suddenly lost
the desire for conversation.
During the following day, they started to feel warm again. The Picun were
more docile. They gorged to their fill and Hammadi allowed them to do so. The pace
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was slower because they were not inclined to race along with their bellies filled. It
gave Kane time to admire the scenery. The wind was still blustery but had subsided
from the howling gale. The high pressure generated by the thawing atmosphere had
had a chance to disperse.
It was a landscape which shimmered, as the Myrc structures shattered against
each other. The light of myriads of crystals sparkled amidst the red, juicy Schwarm. It
was a harsh beauty. It was hostile and savage. It reminded him of Mars and the barren
deserts of ochre ore which had provided him with samples to make the Cartels rich.
He grinned to himself at the thought of the light of greed which a planet like Jubal
would have created in their eyes.
He hadn't attempted to assay the rocks, they might have had an iron base, or it
might have been a mineral totally outside of the experience of man. He tried to
explain his thoughts to Hammadi, as they lay in the comfort of the combined cloaks
for the next rest period. Strictly speaking, it was no longer necessary to huddle
together for mutual warmth. They had organised it without discussion.
Kane told his son about Mars and the Earth. He talked about the insane
sequence of events which had started his travels through the channels of the Psi and
which had brought him to Jubal. He lay quietly and waited for the reaction.
"Now, I understand why so many things are as they are. I understand that you
can't stay with us, my father. I am very glad for this time we can spend with each
other. It will be a time to remember."
Long before they reached their destination on the following day, they could
see something. At first, it was hard to define. It was something insubstantial, almost
like a mirage distorted through the heat haze. Hammadi had corrected the course
slightly as soon as he had sighted it. It was a lighter patch on the purple red of the
horizon. It became more like a steady beacon that was sending out a constant beam in
all directions. That was how it remained for the better part of that day's ride. When
they stopped, in what Kane stubbornly called the evening, he was still no clearer
about what it was. Hammadi smiled and said nothing.
"What the hell is it?"
"The Ship."
Kane drew breath and steadied himself, he felt like kicking his son's backside.
"I am aware that it has something to do with the Ship! What is the glow?"
"My father should really not get excited at his great age! Watch your blood
pressure!"
Kane glowered into his smiling face in impotent fury and rolled over in his
Kous. It was warm enough to sleep solo. He raved to himself about the juvenile
characteristic of baiting their elders and refusing to give a straight answer to a straight
question. It lacked respect and he was surprised that a son of his would act in such an
irresponsible manner. Hammadi murmured.
"My father, you did ask me to treat you as my brother. You will see the Ship
tomorrow."
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CHAPTER 12
He woke in a better temper and made what he thought was a handsome
apology. Hammadi smiled slightly and inclined his head. They didn't discuss the Ship
during the hard ride which followed. After four hours it was unnecessary to ask
questions. Kane's heart started to hammer in anticipation. Even from a distance of
eighty kilometres, it was an incredible vision. It wasn't possible to see the lower parts
because of the rolling terrain. The upper area had the appearance of a flattened sphere.
It was almost the shape of the red giant. The glow was reflected light, bouncing off
the gleaming upper surface, giving it a kind of halo.
The Picun couldn't be hurried, and so it was another five hours before they
finished threading through the Schwarm and occasional Myrc forest. All the while, the
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apparition grew until it filled the skyline in front of them. After some time it ceased to
be a smooth shape, slight projections on the surface became visible. The Picun had
started to tremble when their riders finally reined in.
Kane judged that they were no more than five kilometres from the base of the
Ship. It appeared to be imbedded in the plain. It loomed above them, immense,
overpowering. It was almost impossible to estimate the height, there was nothing with
which to equate. It might have been five hundred metres or five kilometres. It
reminded Kane of the asteroids orbiting the Earth or Mars. But, he judged this to be
much bigger.
Hammadi had a slight smile on his face. He was enjoying the multiple changes
of expression. He grinned in a mixture of pride and humour. Kane breathed.
"It's incredible! Why in hell's name didn't your people stay on her? Surely, you
could have lived inside, instead of wandering over the surface of this godforsaken
hell-hole of a planet!"
"You will understand when we go inside."
He nudged the Picun towards the base of the Ship. As they drew near, the
evidence of the rough landing became more obvious. Even after twenty thousand
years, the terrain was scored with great fissures, with the strata broken and raised
above them. They must have come down with one hell of a thump!
About two hundred metres from her, with the Picun coming to the point of
being unmanageable, they stopped again. Kane followed Hammadi's example and slid
to the ground. Hammadi managed to hobble them. Kane off-loaded the Bole.
Hammadi eyed the metal box with open curiosity.
"What the hell is that thing? You drag it half way across the planet and it
doesn't do anything."
Kane adopted an air of mystery and didn't answer him. He looked at the
remaining distance to the Ship. The ground was reasonably smooth, it was as hot as
hell, and he didn't see why he should expend the energy to haul it when it had what
went for legs. He made a decision.
"Activate."
Hammadi retreated slightly.
"Status."
"Integrity."
Kane flicked a glance at his son. He held his ground but looked as if he was
about to fight for his life.
"I suppose you know what a computer is?"
Hammadi shook his head and didn't take his eyes away from the talking box.
"Nothing works on the Ship
"But, you understand that a computer has something to do with the Ship?"
"Obeid used the word, but he couldn't explain it."
Kane sighed mentally, explaining the mysteries of the Ship were going to be
more traumatic for Hammadi than he had thought.
"Provide a sensory scan of the object ahead of us."
"The object in question has the appearance of an oblate spheroid. It has an
equatorial circumference of ten kilometres and a polar circumference of eight
kilometres. It has an outer skin composed of an alloy not known to the component list
of this Master Computer. The surface temperature is raised to approximately 70
degrees C, by reason of radiant heat from the giant red star, which is at an inclination
of - "
"That's enough!"
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Hammadi had a slightly wild look in his eye. Kane could sympathise, the Bole
had that effect on him most of the time.
"It speaks."
"It's a machine which is programmed to reason."
Hammadi swallowed.
"Does it do anything else?"
"You might well ask - Watch."
Kane turned to the Bole.
"Extend your perambulatory mandibles."
From bitter experience, he had learned to be extremely precise in his
instructions.
Six, thin, tubular and flexible legs grew from the base surface. They had the
effect of raising the cube about two metres off the ground.
"Do you think you could contrive to manoeuvre across the remaining distance
between us and the target destination, without falling arse over head?"
"Affirmative."
The Bole started to tiptoe delicately through small boulders. Hammadi,
showing admirable prudence, placed Kane between himself and the Bole. His father
nodded approvingly, he was a chip off the old block. They followed at a discrete
distance. Kane had to admit to doing more tripping on the rough ground than the
Bole. He reminded himself that he wasn't endowing with millions of credit's worth of
delicate electronic components.
"Is it aiming for the entrance to the ship?"
Hammadi stared at the monster approaching the hull.
"It doesn't matter, we can enter at any point."
Kane raised his eyebrows and said nothing. The great curvature of the lower
hull was looming above their heads. It was like walking on the outside of one of the
asteroids in orbit. It was a long time since he had made a space walk, it was, in any
case, an exercise he tried to avoid.
The Bole advanced on the Ship with the grace of a stiff legged ballet dancer.
Kane sympathised with Hammadi, it looked like something which had escaped from a
nightmare. It had no head, six legs and no arms. The body was a half metre cube. Any
self respecting defence system on the Ship should have blasted all hell out of it long
before it could have approached so near. Kane drew confidence from the fact that the
Bole would have detected the readying of any defence systems. It showed no sign of
hesitation and he hoped it wasn't getting rash in its old age.
He wasn't quite prepared for the Bole's upper parts disappearing into the
surface of the Ship. The legs followed, two by two. The metal skin looked intact. The
Bole had melted into the surface and vanished. Kane stopped dead. Hammadi collided
with him.
"What happened to it?"
He had a love-hate relationship with the Bole, but that didn't mean that he
would like anything nasty to happen to it.
"Nothing - It's there, waiting for us on the other side of the Barrier."
Kane stared at the Ship's unbroken hull. Hammadi elaborated.
"The Entry Barrier,"
He stepped in front and followed the path the Bole had taken. His head
shimmered and lost definition and then his neck and shoulders, his body followed. He
was gone. The last thing to disappear were his feet, which walked forward. Kane
swallowed, hoped it wouldn't hurt, and wondered if he would ever be the same again.
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There was no sensation, except that when he placed his head through what was
supposed to be the outer skin of the Ship, he looked down and found that he had no
body. He was glad to see that other essential parts began to build as he walked
forward on invisible legs. Finally, all of him was present and he hoped, correct -
provided one didn't count his mental status.
The Bole and Hammadi stood waiting for him. The Bole was non-committal
about the whole process, but Hammadi was crying with laughter. Kane addressed his
son in some heat.
"It might have been fair to warn me!"
"And miss all the fun, my father?"
"Have some consideration for my hardened arteries!"
Kane looked around. They were in the Ship and they were standing on
something tangible. He wondered if the term had real meaning in that environment.
They had passed through what had appeared to be tangible. It had been some sort of
force field, which doubled as the outer skin of the Ship. The floor upon which they
were standing, could have been a continuation of that force field, it appeared solid,
but clearly, matter and energy were transmutable. He was reminded of Lynxe and the
thought energy they used to change energy into matter and vice versa - it was a
variation of the same principle.
The light of the star penetrated the Barrier, but the heat didn't. There was no
sign of lighting from a source within the Ship. Hammadi had said that the Ship was
dead, yet the force field was still maintained. Somewhere in the Ship, was a power
source which supplied that force field. The Ship wasn't completely dead!
"Where's the Control Room?"
"It can't be reached. There's no way of penetrating the Ship beyond the Entry
Barrier. That Sharta, Siyulk sealed the Ship before he rebelled and from that time, it
has been impossible to get to the Control Room."
"How did Obeid teach you about the Ship?"
Hammadi gestured along the curved corridor. Kane followed him.
"Come on, twinkle toes."
The Bole silently added yet another synonym to its list of alternative names,
and complied with the order.
The corridor was high and curved and looked as if it ran round the ship like a
girdle. The inner wall was bland, giving no sign of entry into the vessel. Kane touched
it, it remained solid. They came to a point where there was a variation. A square room
opened out on the inward side. It was lit by the light from the outside, enough to see
that it was sealed off at the far end, by a blank wall. Hammadi led the way to it and
disappeared through the solid surface. Kane followed and emerged into a well lit
chamber. The Bole's front mandibles appeared, followed by the rest of the unlovely
creature.
It was a control room of sorts but obviously, not the one which commanded
the Ship. There was the usual array of dials and control pads. The dials were
motionless and gave every indication that the Ship was as dead as Hammadi had
suggested.
"Is this where Obeid showed you how to work the Ship?"
"This is where he tried to explain how it worked, my father. He could only talk
in theory - nothing can be made to work."
Kane muttered.
"The controls must be locked. Siyulk must have done something to them
before he took off across the desert!"
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Hammadi stared at him and then burst out.
"Obeid showed you this place when you were here last time, but you wouldn't
unlock the controls for us - even though you said you knew how!"
Kane looked at the array of dead dials. It was the first clue. If he had known
how, four thousand years earlier and wouldn't tell them, it could only mean that he
had found out on this occasion. The old problem of not altering the future had reared
its ugly head. The eternal paradox which confronted those who travelled in time - he
could do nothing then, which would alter now. He addressed the Bole.
"I want you to make a preliminary investigation."
The Bole extended a flexible connecting cable from a front aperture - it looked
a little obscene.
"Please effect a connection."
Hammadi's eyes had widened to saucer size. Kane murmured.
"It has nothing to do with the sex urge."
He looked at the control board and hesitated. There were a number of likely
looking entry points; too many - that was the trouble. He glanced at Hammadi, his son
shrugged. Kane worked it out with a little Irish logic, which went something like: He
had survived this episode, otherwise, he wouldn't have lived to return to Jubal to beget
Hammadi. It followed that he must have made the right connection. If he hadn't made
the right connection, he wouldn't have been able to say to them four thousand years
earlier, that he wasn't going to tell them how to get into the ship or unlock the
controls.
He was sure his Irish ancestors would have been proud of him. He took the
Bole's connector and pushed it into the nearest entry port - it was a totally random
choice. With a calm born of the fatalistic thought that what had to be would be, he
waited for the consequences.
The Bole stood stock still. Kane wasn't quite sure if its guts had melted into a
blob of superheated plastic or not. A couple of the control panel dials started to move
and some lights on a panel flickered. Hammadi looked suitably impressed and Kane
tried to look as if he knew what he was doing. The Bole spoke.
"Preliminary report, as requested."
Kane looked nonchalant.
"Proceed."
"Voiceprint control on all access points. Voiceprint control on all ship's
controls."
That was it. Hammadi enquired in a hushed voice.
"What is a voiceprint?"
"What's more to the point - who's voiceprint?"
"Siyulk!"
Kane swore. It figured! Now, the bastard was dead and he had killed him four
thousand years earlier! Small wonder, that he had balked at telling them how to get
into the ship.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that we have to find ways and means of persuading the Command
Computer of this ship, that it is no longer bound by the instructions of a gentleman
who is no longer amongst the living! That is on a par with trying to persuade a
computer that one and one makes three!"
"You can do it, my father."
Kane groaned mentally at his display of filial confidence. It was going to take
a great deal of planning and a lot more information. First, he needed a night's sleep.
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They settled down on the floor of the control room - there was little point in
returning outside into the heat. There were even adjacent toilet facilities, which
seemed the height of luxury, after the Spartan conditions he had endured since
arriving on Jubal. It was an exercise in ingenuity to master the plumbing, but having
done so, he felt a new man and ready to face even the challenge of pitting his wits
with a suspicious computer.
He slept well enough, leaving the Bole to probe the mind of the Command
Computer. He hoped he could trust its discretion. Thus far, the Command Computer
had been polite and benign, even allowing them the luxury of a shower - but it had not
provided food. It gave the impression of tolerating visitors but discouraging
permanent guests.
"One thing puzzles me, Hammadi. This control room - if Siyulk hadn't needed
it for himself, he wouldn't have left it available for others. I presume that this is the
only room open to the outside?"
Hammadi nodded.
"Am I right in assuming that there isn't any other entry into the Ship? No
doors or hatches?"
"We don't know of them. We haven't crawled all over the outside. The heat of
the hull wouldn't allow it. We've always been able to get into the Ship in the way we
entered. This room has always been open. My grandfather, Tursac, he knew the Ship -
as did many others of his generation. Now, they are all dead and the knowledge has
died with them."
"I wonder why Siyulk needed this control room?"
The Bole interjected loudly.
"Investigation report."
Perhaps, it only sounded extra loud in the stillness of the control room. Kane
looked at it suspiciously.
"Lower your audio control - you're shouting."
The Bole made no response, it waited. Kane sighed.
"Proceed."
"This report concerns the nature of the command given by the Tepe Siyulk. It
is contained in the Flight Log and it is the last entry. I will attempt to provide the time
co-ordinates, but they are meaningless."
The Bole had resumed a more normal volume.
"Negative - Give a verbatim report of the Flight Log entry."
A somewhat mechanical voice started to emit from the audio speaker on the
Bole. Kane assumed it to be synthesising the material of the Flight Log, which would
have been in inter-spatial binary, into a simulation of the human voice. Despite the
wonders of modern science, it managed to sound like a cheap Sci-Fi movie.
"I am the Tepe Siyulk, the First Officer of this Interstellar Transit Vessel. I
have relieved the Tepe Tursac of his responsibilities as Commander of this vessel, on
the grounds of incompetence and dereliction of duty. The Ship is grounded. Tursac
ordered a landing, whilst the planet Jubal was still in a post-flood condition. We have
made a heavy landing and we are submerged in mud and must remain so, until the
ground is firm once more.
By amplification of the force field beneath the Ship, I am sure that it will be
possible for us to lift off again. Tursac wishes to try now, thereby risking the lives of
us all. I have ordered him to be confined to his quarters, but he has escaped together
with half of the crew who are loyal to him. It is my intention to seal the functions of
the Ship and disallow any attempt to gain access. We will pursue and apprehend
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Tursac and his party. I have ordered evacuation of the Ship - including the remaining
herds. My voiceprint command is as follows - "
The Bole ended abruptly.
"Well, go on!"
"I am not able to simulate the voiceprint command. The Command Computer
has a security lock on its transmission."
Kane swore luridly, Hammadi grinned appreciatively.
"Are you able to listen in to it them?"
"Affirmative."
"Then do so! Ask your big friend to be so kind as to allow you to put your ear
to the keyhole - or whatever other arrangements you have."
There was a protracted silence and he wondered if the Bole had heard
something unrepeatable.
"Go on!"
"The Tepe Siyulk gave the Command Computer instructions for all
eventualities. He gave specific instruction, that in the event of his death, the entire
Ship was to be placed in self-destruct mode!"
Kane breathed softly.
"The bastard! How fortunate for us, that the illustrious Tepe Siyulk is alive and
well!"
He glared at Hammadi, who had gone pale. He nodded slowly as the
understanding dawned.
"Continue."
"The controls can only be unlocked by the use of a single word, which will be
spoken by a man other than the Tepe Siyulk. He has fed the voiceprint of that man
into the reserved core of the Command Computer. It is in the form of the word to be
spoken."
"Are we allowed to hear the voice of the man? What is his name?"
"That is restricted information."
They had come a full circle. They had uncovered a great deal and they had
also discovered that the Tepe Siyulk had not been a man who did things by half
measures. Kane turned again to the Bole.
"The voice of this man - is it a living voice - or was it recorded?"
There was another silence. It spoke volumes in itself. The Command
Computer was exercising extreme electronic caution. The Bole was finding it difficult
to wade through a tangle of blocking circuits and defence loops. However, it appeared
that the little genius was getting some results.
"It will be a living voice."
Kane looked at Hammadi hopelessly.
"That stuffs it! The living voice will need to be as alive and healthy as the
Tepe Siyulk, himself!"
Hammadi nodded slowly, Kane was thankful that he was quick on the uptake.
Kane instructed the Bole.
"Continue to investigate - with extreme caution - understood?"
"Affirmative."
Hammadi said softly.
"We had better find something else to talk about - some subjects could be
dangerous."
Kane shrugged, there was nothing to lose. It would take time for the Bole to
wade through interminable circuit paths, looking for a loophole in the armour which
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Siyulk had erected. One flaw was already obvious. If Siyulk had built a simple
mathematical algorithm into his structure, the Command Computer could have
calculated that Siyulk could not possibly be still alive after such an elapsed time. If
Siyulk had taken that elementary precaution, the Ship would have destroyed itself
centuries earlier.
CHAPTER 13
The small control cabin had not been furnished for comfort. Perhaps, the Tepe
Siyulk had decided that Spartan measures might discourage a determined attempt to
break through the computer controls blocking access to other parts of the Ship. Kane
and Hammadi were forced to squat on the floor and gnaw on sticks of hardtack. For
some reason, the floor seemed harder than the rock strewn plain upon which they had
camped earlier. It was all in the mind and born out of the frustration of waiting for the
Bole to penetrate the impenetrable. It sounded like the Old Earth paradox of what
happened when an immovable object was acted upon by an irresistible force - the
accepted answer was - annihilation. If the Bole made any mistakes, the result would
be the same.
After moodily chewing for some time, Hammadi broke the silence.
"My father, tell me more about the other worlds you have visited."
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Kane stirred and tried to ease the cramp in his left buttock.
"I've only visited one other world, Hammadi. I don't count my birth world as
one I've visited, but that was where my journey began. I told you that I found a
chamber which had been fashioned by someone who was alien to Mars. In that
chamber was a Pentacle which had the image of a man imbedded in it. I was trapped
in that chamber, until it changed shape and I found myself propelled on to a strange
planet."
"And the people of that planet - they looked like the image in the Pentacle."
"Precisely - they had Feline characteristics."
"I don't understand the word - feline."
"I can't describe them to you - on Jubal, you have no one who looks like that."
"You don't look like us."
"I'm not of the feline strain, if that's what you mean."
"What is a strain?"
"It was a term used by one of Old Earth's anthropologists. He suggested that
our planet had been colonised by four strains of humanity and that the Feline was one.
Our race is supposed to be a result of interbreeding between the four strains."
Hammadi was quiet for a while.
"He must have been a very clever man, to come up with that suggestion. How
could he have known?"
"I don't think he was particularly clever. Perhaps, he knew something the rest
of us didn't."
"What were the other three strains?"
Kane paused.
"One was the Bovine and another was the Simian - and the third was the
Aquiline."
Hammadi stared at the distant wall.
"And, which one are we, my father?"
"The Aquiline - the people of Jubal represent the Aquiline strain!"
Hammadi let out his breath slowly.
"So, there may be some truth in the old stories that we were a people who
travelled between the worlds and seeded them with our intelligence?"
"It would seem so - "
"Have you found the other two - the Bovine and the Simian?"
"Not yet."
"But you will do so, my father - when you leave us again!"
"You're very sure that I intend to leave you, Hammadi."
"You will leave us, because you must leave us - just as you were compelled to
leave the woman, Maia."
Kane sat quietly and watched the Bole. Hammadi stirred again.
"What was the purpose of finding the feline people?"
"I had to find the man whose image was on the Pentacle."
"Did you succeed?"
"Yes, he was the brother of Maia - his name is Danyk."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know - we - er - left Lynxe together. He didn't arrive with me on
Jubal."
"When we were in the Crag Caverns, you wore a Pentacle around your neck.
Was this the one which had the feline image?"
Kane hesitated, the ground was becoming dangerous.
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"No - it carries another image."
"The image of a man of Jubal?"
"Yes."
"Is it the image of Obeid - he is your brother?"
"No - it isn't his image - nor, is it yours, Hammadi."
"Do you have the Pentacle with you? Perhaps, I know him - or perhaps, you
have met him already."
"The Pentacle is back in the Encampment. I haven't met the man yet - not on
this journey."
"Perhaps, you met him on the other journey?"
"You forget, Hammadi. I know nothing of the other journey."
It seemed to satisfy him. The Bole made a timely report.
"All paths are blocked by the voiceprint which is composed of ten letters."
"What are the ten letters?"
"Restricted information."
Kane swore again.
"Identify the voice."
"Restricted information."
Hammadi breathed.
"The Sharta, Siyulk was clever!"
Kane wracked his brains. He had the feeling that the answer was staring him
in the face but he couldn't see it.
"Perhaps, if you sleep, my father - the answer might come to you."
Kane doubted whether he would be visited by divine inspiration in his dreams
- unless the inner man took a hand - or the Masters of Psi who controlled him. The
thought did nothing to stir Quetzal from his mocking contemplation of their dilemma.
Kane conceded that he was tired and rolled himself in the Kous. Hammadi shrouded
himself and pulled up his hood. He had one more question before he sought the
meditative state.
"Tell me, my father. What was the name of the man who predicted the
existence of the four strains?"
"Hans-Jurgen - something. Damned if I can remember - "
He was half asleep. The surname wouldn't register.
"His name was Hans-Jurgen?"
"No! That was his first name - his name was - Hauptmeier! Hans-Jurgen
Hauptmeier!"
The impact of the revelation was quite startling. There was a sudden whisper
of life, a surge in the air, an increase in the activity of the dials and meters on the
control panel. Kane and Hammadi scrambled to their feet and looked at each other.
Kane felt real fear, perhaps the Bole had overstepped the mark and the Ship was about
to erupt into a hell of incandescent heat. This could have been their last coherent
moment. The Bole suddenly chanted.
"The Command Computer indicates that control of the Ship has been returned
to manual."
"What the hell is happening?"
"The Command Computer indicates that the voiceprint code has been
resolved."
The Bole's audio increased in pitch, it sounded as if someone had grabbed its
knackers.
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"It's what! All right, don't repeat that! What was the nature of the voiceprint
and the code?"
"The voiceprint required was that of Kane Ashford. The code required was
HAUPTMEIER."
The Bole's voice had developed the characteristics of a simpering schoolgirl.
Kane pulled the connecting cord in a hurry. He asked himself. How in hell's
name had his voiceprint got into the hands of Siyulk and especially, how did the
name, Hauptmeier, get into the act?
Hammadi looked around him at the mounting signs of activity. He sounded
awe-struck.
"Siyulk said that he had met you on the Ship, long before it landed on Jubal."
Kane wondered what was happening in other parts of the Ship. Long dormant
functions were being activated. The whole structure was humming with life.
Hammadi suddenly seized him in a bear hug and danced him around. It added to the
general confusion.
"You said you would do it, my father!"
Kane grinned and thumped him on the back and then pulled apart. He turned
to the Bole. It had been silent since its enforced divorce from the Ship's computer. He
hoped it wasn't permanently damaged - or worse - sulking!
"Status."
"Integrity."
Kane sighed with relief, the audio tone was normal.
"You are sure? You were making abnormal audio responses."
"I was suffering power surges. The Command Computer initiated strong
counter currents as I attempted to probe."
"Spare me the disgusting details! I get the picture. I've been through similar
circumstances."
He turned to a grinning Hammadi, who looked as if all his birthdays had come
at once - inconsequentially, he wondered what they did about birthdays on Jubal.
"Well, Hammadi. You now have a Ship. What do you intend to do with her?"
He looked blank. Kane turned back to the Bole.
"If I reconnect you, can you get responses from the Command Computer,
without you getting a cheap thrill?"
"Affirmative."
Kane pushed home the lead.
"This is what I want to know in general terms. First, enquire about the
integrity of the Ship - nothing detailed - just a general summation of whether it's fit to
fly outside of the atmosphere? Secondly, what's the fuel level? Thirdly, what's the
condition of the life support systems and supplies. Got it?"
"Affirmative."
The Bole made its silent enquiry. It was a little startling to hear the response
over the Ship's audio system. It appeared that the Bole and the Command Computer
had come to some sort of cosy, intimate relationship and they were sharing each
other's facilities.
"The hull force field is fully operational. Damage control will be completed in
ten earth hours. The Ship will then be viable for interplanetary flight. Fuel is infinite.
Life-support is fully functional. Supplies are depleted and are at fifty percent capacity.
Message ends."
"What is the total passenger and crew capacity of the Ship?"
"Infinite."
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"Say again!"
"Infinite."
"Explain."
"In theory, the Ship's design permits it to achieve an infinite dimension. At the
moment, it has a dimension which will allow it to accommodate two thousand
personnel in comfort. It will adjust, under computer control, to accommodate an
infinite increase or decrease. Unless over ridden, computer control will initiate, within
ten earth seconds, a decrease to accommodate two passengers.
"Override!"
He hoped the unqualified response would be correctly interpreted. If
computer's could sigh, deep within their super-cooled cores - and he suspected they
could - this one would be resigning itself to a lot of clumsy handling.
"Maintain present dimensions until authorised to change. Explain the concept
of the Ship's structure - in simple terms."
The amplified voice of the Bole responded.
The Ship is insubstantial. The Ship is structured upon the concept of the interchangeability
of mass and energy. If additional dimension is required, whether by
Computer Control or by manual intervention, energy is converted into matter and an
expansion occurs. If a lesser dimension is required, matter is converted into energy
and dissipated."
"Where, in hells name, does all the energy come from?"
"From that which is found everywhere."
The answer wasn't an answer. Perhaps, it was too complicated to express in
layman's terms. The concept was almost beyond comprehension.
"I need to view schematic diagrams of the Ship."
"Computer Command will provide all diagrams to the Ship upon specific
request and will provide paths to your required destination within the vessel. The
miniature peripheral may now be disconnected. Computer Control has assimilated all
data available in its storage, including the Solari language. Computer Control IS the
Ship and is responsive to all requests at every location within the vessel."
Without a word, Kane disconnected the miniature peripheral and suspected
that it was wounded to the core. How the mighty had fallen. One minute, it had
described itself as a 'master computer', the next, it was demoted to a 'miniature
peripheral'. Oh! The ignominy of it all! Kane enquired solicitously.
"Are you capable of walking?"
"Affirmative."
He tried to detect a broken heart in the response.
"I think we'll shelve the idea of sleep and explore the Ship."
Hammadi nodded and gathered their possessions. They walked through the
wall into the outer chamber. The blank wall which had earlier restricted their passage,
was now wide open. It looked like a major thoroughfare through the heart of the Ship.
It was brilliantly lit, the walls radiated light. Kane was reminded of the Temple of
Taxila on Lynxe - and the chamber into which he had entered on Mars. The Ship was
pulsing with life.
The prospect of a ten kilometre walk through the Ship along the illuminated
corridor, was not appealing. Kane decided to test out the Computer Control.
"I want to access the Main Control Cabin."
A voice responded from thin air.
"Proceed to the elevator indicated."
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He could see that Hammadi was glad that he had someone to hold his hand.
His son had a tendency to rise three feet in the air every time something happened. A
flow of lights led them to an illuminated panel, which opened at their approach. They
entered, Kane tried to explain what was happening as they soared upward at a gut
disturbing pace.
"These things always make me queasy."
They came to an abrupt halt and Hammadi looked decidedly green. It was the
first time Kane had seen that colour since coming to Jubal. He hurriedly asked
Computer Control.
"The nearest washroom - quickly!"
A panel illuminated close to the elevator entrance. Kane had a moment to
reflect that they always seemed to site toilets near elevator shafts - it had to be
something to do with the plumbing. They made the washroom just in time.
"Wait till I get you home to your mother! Can't take the kids anywhere! You
stuff your face with hardtack, get over excited and then want to spew all over the
floor!"
Hammadi glowered, the other 'kid' hadn't said a word since it had received the
brush off from Computer Control. They emerged from the washroom and headed for
the next illuminated panel. Hammadi looked decidedly the worse for wear. The Bole
was silent, Kane issued a challenge.
"And what have you to say for yourself?"
"I am conducting full sensory scans and assimilating data."
Kane felt marvellous! For the first time in many earth months, he was back in
his own environment. There was no doubt that he was best fitted to do what he had
always done and that included living on spaceships and making journeys between
planets and asteroids. He wondered if he dared take the opportunity to do it again. To
take this wonderful Ship up for the first time in twenty thousand years! Prudence
screamed at him that it would be a reckless action, but the inner man was stirring, his
interest was finally aroused and Kane knew that the risks would be ignored and if the
Ship proved to be viable for such a trip, it would happen!
They walked through a final lighted panel and found themselves in the vast
area of the main control cabin. The roof was unsupported and towered in a great
concave dome over their heads. The walls were bland and smooth, with no banks of
consoles with their attendant dials. There was nothing, a great, magnificent, empty
room, whose main feature was nothingness. Right in the centre of the floor space,
were two chairs - nothing else. It was the throne room of the king who was the
commander of the Ship. Kane glanced at Hammadi. His colour had returned and his
eyes were darting everywhere.
"Hammadi - this is where Tursac, your grandfather sat when he directed the
Ship between the stars. It was from here that he gave the instruction to land on Jubal.
This is what Obeid was prevented from showing you!"
He breathed.
"It is beyond my wildest imagination! How did he make it work?"
"Obeid told you."
"He told me many things, but he could never show me how it worked."
The inner man was coming to the surface at last, Kane knew the futility of
fighting him.
"I have in mind to make a flight with the Ship! You will see how it works."
Kane Ashford squeaked a final protest which was ignored by Quetzal. Kane
Ashford didn't know how the Ship functioned, but Quetzal had been there before. He
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had been there when the Ship had left the Home World and he had known Tursac -
and Siyulk when they were young men.
"You know best, my father."
Quetzal was not his father, he didn't correct him. Kane Ashford was the
physical being, but Hammadi would not have understood the distinction.
"Computer Control. This is Hammadi, he is the descendant of Tursac, the last
commander of the Ship. He is now the commander, you will recognise him."
There was a slight pause.
"Commander Hammadi has the genetic profile of Gens Tursac. He is
Commander of the Ship."
Hammadi breathed urgently.
"What about Obeid, my father? He is the son of Tursac."
Quetzal knew and answered.
"Obeid will not take the Ship away from Jubal. My Masters have decreed
otherwise! Obey them without question, Hammadi!"
He looked as if he would have liked to argue, but the look in the Quetzal's
eyes quenched the rebellion.
"Very well, my father."
The computer interjected.
"Your instructions, Commander."
Hammadi looked at him wide eyed and helpless. Quetzal smiled slightly, he
was being cruel to be kind. There was little time, Hammadi would have to pilot the
Ship in due course. Now, he had to learn, whilst he still had a teacher.
"Take the Ship into orbit, just beyond the atmosphere. Then, slowly orbit the
planet so that we are able to view the land mass on the light side and the dark side."
"Is that the instruction of the Commander?"
Kane relaxed, it was what he wanted. Hammadi was to have sole control until
he stipulated otherwise. He nodded to his son, who had lost his facial colour again. He
swallowed and croaked.
"That is what I wish."
Kane hoped he wasn't going to throw up again.
There was no sensation of movement as the Ship lifted off. No noise, not even
a hiss. The opaque concave of the ceiling appeared to melt away and so did the walls.
They rode up from the planet's surface, as if they were seated on two chairs on the
outside skin of the Ship. In reality, they were protected by a force field, matter had
been converted into energy and they were given a breathtaking vision of space and the
stars.
The great egg of the Ship rose above the plain, from the nest in the mud into
which it had settled twenty thousand years earlier. It rose higher, so that those in the
Encampment of Obeid gaped in wonder and fell to their knees in fear at the sight. The
great herds of Picun moved restlessly and broke the spell on the herdsmen, who were
brought back to their senses by the imminent threat of a stampede.
Afar off, in the Encampment of Eridos, his excited followers called him from
his tent and he watched the phenomenon without emotion. It told him something. His
enemy had returned, for there was no way in which the Shartas in the Encampment of
Obeid could have made the Ship to rise without external assistance. Kane Ashford, the
upstart who called himself Quetzal, had returned. Eridos absently fingered the hilt of
his short sword. Soon it would be buried in the alien's body and the blood feud would
finally be at an end. The death of Siyulk, his father, would be avenged.
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CHAPTER 14
The Ship rose three hundred kilometres, to the fringe of the atmosphere.
Below them was the vast expanse of undulating red plain which stretched down to the
featureless black ocean. Only a quadrant of the planet was revealed. Kane realised for
the first time, just how huge Jubal was. The Ship changed course and slowly gathered
speed to meet the night line and then to cross over on to the dark side. Two days
earlier, the two men had probed tentatively into the outermost edge of that bleakness.
Kane had hoped to see more detail, but they were to be disappointed for, as soon as
Jubal started to eclipse its great red sun, it was hard to distinguish any detail on the
surface.
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Kane knew that the conditions below were the equivalent of what existed
outside of the protective bubble of their force field. Around them, it was utterly dark
and the stars were sharp clear in the icy vacuum of space. The Ship was gathering
speed and soon the lurid blast of a red dawn was upon them and dead ahead, the
varicosed surface of the Giant.
The land was still below them and their orbit had been confined to the higher
latitudes in which Tursac had originally landed the Ship. There was another variation
in the orbital path and they began to move directly under the red star. They were
bathed in a ruby red light, but there was no heat - just an intensity of redness, so much
so, that they felt pressed down in their seats. Kane almost expected to fry in its
ferocity, but they didn't. Hammadi looked at him with a certain apprehension. He was
excited now, caught up in the marvel of having commanded the Ship to leave the
planet and ride over its surface.
The night line was approaching again, it was decision time. Kane grinned at
him.
"Had enough?"
"Is there more?"
"Much more - If you can stand the pace!"
"I can stand any pace you set!"
"I'm not trying to test your manhood! All of this is quite a culture shock for
someone who's spent most of his life herding Picun!"
"I want to see more!"
Kane leaned back.
"We have limitless options, but we haven't got unlimited time. How about
taking a look at Jubal from a long way out? We can get some idea of your solar
system. If the Command Computer thinks it's safe, we can even take a closer look at
the Dwarf!"
He nodded his head in vigorous agreement.
"You're the Commander, Hammadi. Just give the order."
"I want to do what he's just suggested."
Kane sighed.
"You're going to have to learn to do what you want - not what I think is a good
idea. I won't be here to hold your hand!"
The Ship started to gain altitude in its orbit. It soon became obvious that they
had reached escape velocity. Their speed increased and the Giant was only a number
of stars which became visible. Most of them were distant, although in Solar System
terms, they were much closer than the Centauri group. The Giant and the Dwarf were
not the only two to exert their influence upon Jubal.
The planet fell away beneath them, at first, it seemed immense, but as the sky
darkened beyond the purple into that of the blackness which signifies true space, Jubal
became small, miniaturised by its relationship to the vastness of the galaxy. Even the
red star was cut down to size, although it was still big and menacing, with its sombre,
dying fires. Hammadi pointed in another direction. Cruel and hard in its white
intensity, was the Dwarf.
They made a transit across the face of the red sun and suddenly, it emerged
again - the companion star - or perhaps, one of a number of companions to the Giant,
in a complex relationship of counter-balancing forces. The Dwarf was relatively tiny,
an almost insignificant speck compared with the bloated expanse of the Giant.
Hammadi whispered, fascinated.
"They are so different in size!"
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"Now - but once, the Dwarf was as big, or bigger than the Giant. Then it
collapsed and its substance compressed to an unimaginable density. That density is the
greatest danger to the Giant and particularly, to Jubal. When the Dwarf comes again, it
will strip away a vast amount of the Giant and suck it into itself and Jubal will be torn
apart!"
"It doesn't look very dangerous. It's so small, perhaps its only the size of Jubal
- "
"Or even less! Take my word for it, it will suck Jubal into itself and before
that, every living thing left on the planet will die. It's imperative that we shift your
people - and we'd better make it fast!"
"I wonder how long before the Migration starts?"
"The Migration?"
"You remember the Legend of the Sentinels. They always know when the
Dwarf is to appear. They take to the air and don't touch the ground again, until it's
hard enough to take their weight."
Quetzal stirred within him.
"The Flock will not survive unless Quetzal leads them to safety!"
Hammadi stared at him. Kane battled back to the surface.
"One thing is for certain, this bird - this Ship, has to fly before the Dwarf
makes its appearance and this time, it won't try a landing when the ground is too soft.
Jubal will not be a healthy place to be near. It will tear apart and its guts will spew out
into space. What isn't absorbed by the Dwarf, will become highly lethal meteorites.
Chunks of planet will hurtle around and eventually, plunge into the Dwarf or the
Giant. Perhaps, the Command Computer can tell us when."
It appeared that the provision of this sort of information didn't require the
sanction of the Officer Commanding.
"The following is a summary of orbital patterns for the binary system under
observation. The planet is approaching the aphelion point in relation to the red giant
star. The complex orbital paths of the red giant and the white dwarf, are describing
arcs which will result in perihelion point occurring in ten Ship hours."
Kane very nearly died of fright. Ten hours! It was a disaster! There was no
possible way to effect a rescue of the race living on Jubal. Hammadi got caught up in
the panic.
"What does that mean, my father?"
"It means we're stuffed, my son! For the record, the planet is nearly at the
point which is the farthest it can go from the red giant. The red giant and the white
dwarf are approaching the closest they ever reach. Unfortunately for you and your
people, its going to happen within ten hours, which is about three quarters of the time
we usually take on one of our rides."
The kindly computer interposed.
"Correction. The reference to ten hours, is a reference to ten Ship hours. A
correlation of time scales indicates this to be the equivalent of one hundred and seven
earth days!"
Kane exploded.
"Why the bloody hell didn't you say so in the first place?"
"It is the assumption of Computer Control, that personnel are conversant with
standard Ship's time."
"Smart arse computers! I can see the Bole has a soul mate."
There was no reply, but Kane got the impression that his response had been
recorded somewhere and that it would be produced as evidence for the prosecution at
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some future time when computers ruled the galaxy and man would be called to
account.
The Ship described an enormous orbit of the binary system. It gave Kane time
to think. It was beyond comprehension, how many trillions of kilometres they
covered, or the speed they attained. Computer Control was silent on both accounts
and was probably sulking over the incompetents it was supposed to serve. They were
left to look and marvel, as the red giant decreased in size and the white pinpoint of
light resolved into an intense disk of indefinable incandescence. Kane knew that they
were looking at a heavily filtered image. It was as much as their human vision could
accommodate. Without the filter, they would have been blinded. The same filters,
were also shielding out the blast of tissue destroying radiation, which would have
given them terminal cancer within seconds.
"We have one hundred and seven of my days to get the entire population of
Jubal on to this Ship."
Hammadi's eyes widened a fraction. They were already popping in wonder, so
it was quite an achievement.
"The entire population? Surely, you don't mean to rescue those on the other
side of the Division, the traitors who follow that Sharta, Eridos?"
"The entire population, Hammadi! Not one is to be left behind. This Ship will
accommodate you all and somehow in the next one hundred and seven days, you are
going to have to find a way of ending the Division and Enmity. It has been going on
for far too long. Damn it! It started as a disagreement in policy about how long the
Ship would stay on Jubal and it's developed into a blood feud over the generations. It's
become a way of life! Can't you realise that you're squabbling about a petty dispute
which has been blown out of all proportion? The whole lot of you are facing
annihilation at the end of one hundred and seven days. Probably, the planet will
become unlivable well within that limit. That isn't all that many heartbeats, my son!"
"I wouldn't advise you to let Obeid hear you speaking like that. He would very
likely shackle you and order you to be flogged!"
"I'd like to see the bastard try!"
Hammadi was stiffly silent and Kane was left to reflect on the crass stupidity
of mankind - no matter what planet they inhabited. He wasn't in a very good mood as
they approached the red giant again. They eased into orbit around the planet and then
began the gentle descent which placed them neatly in the depression left by the first
rough landing. It was like settling into a nest. The whole process was effortless,
almost casual. Kane wondered about the genius race who had designed her and the
systems which still functioned effortlessly after more than twenty thousand years.
Their technology would have been phenomenal. The thought came to him, that it was
still phenomenal. Those people might still exist somewhere.
"Computer Control indicates that the scheduled flight is completed. Computer
Control awaits your further instructions."
Kane looked at the silent Bole.
"Why can't you have nice manners like that?"
His faithful companion didn't deign to answer.
Kane addressed the emptiness of the Control Cabin.
"Before the conjunction of the red giant star with the white dwarf, it will be
necessary to expand the Ship to accommodate in excess of ten thousand personnel.
Additionally, there will be a requirement to accommodate about one million Picun.
Confirm your capability to provide as requested."
Computer Control was silent for all of thirty seconds.
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"The expansion program has been initiated in relation to the requested number
of personnel. Data records indicate that one million Picun is excessive complement.
Computer Control will accept one thousand for breeding stock."
Kane gaped. Computer Control will accept! It only went to prove what he had
always maintained, if you gave a machine too much rope, it would start taking
liberties! He didn't feel like arguing. Hammadi did, he was looking decidedly
mutinous for a Commanding Officer.
"You'll never persuade the people of Jubal to leave even one of their herds
behind. Obeid's herd alone, has more prize animals than a thousand. I am right, that is
ten to the third power?"
"Your arithmetic is impeccable."
Hammadi shook his head and muttered to himself. Kane propelled him out of
the Control Cabin. He turned to the Bole.
"Come on, repulsive."
The roof and the walls had resumed their opaque features. The conducted tour
of near space was at an end. Kane knew that his headaches were just about to begin.
He wondered what miracle would enable him to persuade a mob of semi-literate
herders that there was an urgent necessity to leave a planet they had occupied for
twenty thousand years, because of a stellar menace they could not see - and one they
had never seen but only knew about from the Legend of the Sentinels.
Furthermore, they would be expected to trust their lives to a Ship which
everyone knew was dead, on top of leaving their prized Picun which were a source of
their wealth, their pride and their prestige. The Masters of Psi must have had supreme
confidence in his persuasive abilities. The inner man stirred, Kane felt a surge of
mocking humour.
Hammadi contrived not to be sick as they hurtled down to the lower levels of
the Ship. He had more on his mind than the condition of his stomach. The Bole
clicked along behind them, like a woman with six legs, shod in metal tipped shoes.
Kane was dog-tired, it was long past his bedtime. It had been a long day. He
addressed the Computer, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"If it is not too much trouble. We would like comfortable accommodation,
food, something nice to drink, flush toilets - and a bath - definitely a nice, hot bath."
Whatever the computer's definition of 'comfortable' might be, it had to be
better than being rolled up in a Kous on a hot, rock strewn desert and the inevitable
hardtack. Computer Control excelled itself. In fact, Kane hadn't received such good
response since his last visit to a good class whorehouse on Mars. One essential thing
was missing in the comparison, but then, he couldn't expect everything.
The inevitable panel was illuminated, through which they walked with
confidence. The quarters within were almost decadent. Kane opened his mouth and
closed it abruptly. He had once been summoned to one of the luxury Planet Hoppers
of a Cartel magnate. It had been appointed with the maximum luxury. This series of
rooms made it look like a second class doss- house. Hammadi had the wide eyed look
of a country boy who had met a flush toilet for the first time. On reflection, it was a
fair comparison.
Kane tried one of the beds, it was exquisitely soft after nights on hard ground.
He spotted a food dispenser. He hadn't met one since his last meal on the Hopper he
had left at the base of the escarpment, which had contained the chamber that had been
the starting place of his journey through the galaxy. He looked it over with a certain
degree of suspicion. Usually, they had a number of buttons, which when pushed,
provided something. Equally usually, it was not what one ordered. It spoke.
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"What may I serve you?"
Kane stepped back hastily and trod on Hammadi's foot. When the hopping
around subsided, Kane drew breath and rattled off a menu which would have set him
back three month's pay in the best restaurant the Asteroids could have offered. It didn't
blink an eye, or anything else for that matter. The interchange of data from the Bole to
the Command Computer, must have contained a surprising amount of culinary
information. If Kane had suspected it, he would have made it do the cooking.
A neat little orifice opened at the base of the dispenser. The required goodies
appeared. Kane's eyes widened - he had been engaging in a flight of fancy and now it
was an actuality. He half expected it to disappear like an illusion, but it remained - it
was a tangible expression of the genius of computer technology. It was an
improvement on the usual output of cold, hard facts, accompanied by frequent
headaches. Hammadi was salivating, Kane duplicated the order and hoped he would
share the same refinement of palate.
Later, they bathed, shaved and risked one of the Bole's haircuts. Kane reclined
on his bed and reflected on the pleasures of life. He stretched and grinned at
Hammadi, who occupied the other couch.
"This is only the crew's quarters. Just wait until you see the Commander's suite
- then you'll know what luxury really is!"
Hammadi answered quietly, as if he was trying to persuade himself.
"Obeid will be the Commander, it is his right. He is the Leader of the People
of Jubal."
Kane didn't respond. He didn't have the answer, the inner man did. Of one
thing he was certain, Obeid would not command the Ship when it lifted off for the last
time from the planet Jubal.
They woke into the luxury of the quarters they had been assigned. It had not
been a dream, it was a reality, in so far as anything to do with a Ship which was
composed of an interchange of energy and matter, could be a reality. It was very
tempting to hold on to the ease and comfort, knowing that the hot plain and hard ride
was before them. At the end of that ride awaited the hard sell of persuading reluctant
and suspicious tribesmen, to abandon their way of life and their wealth in the form of
their herds. Beyond that, he couldn't predict what he was going to do about Eridos and
his followers. To stay in the luxury of the Ship was a temptation. He decided to
sacrifice a day or two, justifying his decision by the thought that Hammadi ought to
know a little more about what he was supposed to command.
He called up Computer Control.
"The Commander wishes to inspect the Ship."
"The Ship is subject to the expansion program and is not fully accessible."
"Then show us that part which is accessible!"
They wandered around for several hours, peering into cabins and larger
control rooms, filled with equipment which defied Kane's ability to explain. Some of
the utilitarian areas were more easily described, especially how they accommodated
the Picun. Hammadi's interest was sparked, he was after all, a herdsman at heart.
"They keep the Picun in stalls during the journey between one star system and
the next. I suspect that they turn them loose when they touch down on a suitable
planet. Perhaps, that was what Tursac had in mind when he landed on Jubal."
Hammadi looked doubtful.
"Surely, my father, the journey between the stars takes a very long time. You
can't keep a Picun in a stall for that long!"
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"Each of the stalls is what is called a cryogenic chamber. The computer very
carefully controls the conditions. The Picun is placed in a state of suspended
animation. The atmosphere is very cold and the bodily processes are slowed down so
that they almost die. When they come to a suitable planet, the process is reversed and
they are brought back to life again."
Hammadi contemplated one of the stalls and wondered about inside. He
looked at Kane.
"It is very like that when my people go into the long night and we sleep. Our
bodies slow down until we are barely alive, only when the night has passed, do we
come back to life."
Kane nodded. Their sleep lasted a thousand years of night. Perhaps, it was yet
another legacy of what they had once done in their journeys between the star system
and perhaps, it was the secret of their longevity. They returned to the comfort of their
quarters. The inner man was stirring and it made him restless, something wasn't as it
should be but Kane couldn't put his finger on the problem.
The intensity of the feeling of restlessness grew, eventually, Hammadi noticed
it.
"Is something troubling you, my father?"
Kane nodded, his lips were set grimly.
"I can't explain it, I have a feeling of unrest. We have to go back to the
Encampment immediately!"
Hammadi's eyes widened in shock.
"We start now!"
He didn't argue, instead, he gathered their belongings and stowed them in the
travel sack. By this time, Kane was chaffing at the bit. He set off down the passage
which led to the outside of the Ship. Hammadi and the Bole followed, eventually,
Hammadi protested.
"What's the panic, my father."
Kane didn't slacken his rapid pace. Hammadi sounded winded, perhaps the
one night of luxury had put him well and truly out of condition.
"There's trouble at the Encampment - I feel it!"
Hammadi broke into a trot.
"Perhaps, that Sharta, Eridos has made a surprise attack."
"Does he do that often?"
"It has never been attempted since the early days - but then, perhaps he knows
that you have returned, my father!"
CHAPTER 15
The possibility of an attack by Eridos, was motive enough for Hammadi not to
waste his breath on further questions. Kane glanced at the Bole, it was clattering along
like a castenet in a frenzy. Kane concentrated on rattling out a series of instructions to
Computer Command, concerning a future rendezvous and the integrity of the Ship for
the next one hundred and seven days.
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The way to the outer circuit of the Ship seemed considerably longer than their
inward progress. The reason became obvious, the Ship was growing as per his
instructions to prepare for a complement of ten thousand crew and passengers.
Eventually, they reached the outer girdle of corridor and erupted though the force field
without taking particular note of the visual effects.
The outer heat hit them like the blast from an old fashioned furnace. Even
Hammadi shuddered under its impact as if from a physical blow. Nothing seemed to
have changed, it was hard to believe that the Ship had risen from its resting place and
had soared off into the red-purple sky, and that they had seen the wonders of the
binary system before landing once more.
Hammadi howled his love song for the Picun, who were happily chewing their
way through a forest of Schwarm. They came at a gallop, pathetically eager to satisfy
another appetite and then moaned morosely when they discovered that they had fallen
for the old trick.
When they had ridden some way, Kane looked back at the Ship. It was
growing, but it wasn't the sort of growth you would expect when blowing up a
balloon. It was more gradual, only visible after a period of hours. Energy was being
assimilated and converted into matter. It would continue to do so, until the desired
capacity was reached. He didn't try to imagine how it was happening, he had more
serious things to think about.
He had lashed the Bole to the Picun in such a way, that it could become
operable at a moment's notice - hopefully, without blasting the ears off the long
suffering beast. If Hammadi noticed, he didn't comment. Kane had a gnawing gut
feeling that they were heading into danger, it wasn't a comfortable sensation.
"In my terms, how long will it take to get to the Encampment?"
"Two riding sessions. Can you tell me what is wrong?"
"I don't know Hammadi. I have a feeling of unrest. I sense danger - "
"From Eridos?"
Kane hesitated, it didn't go unnoticed.
"You can trust me, my father."
"If your loyalties were put to the test, with me on one side and Obeid on the
other, who would you choose?"
He was silent for a while, then:
"May it never come to that, my father. If it does - I am your Body Companion
and we have shared the cloak!"
Kane felt like hugging him - and would have done so if they hadn't been
galloping across the open plain.
"We'll ride through and make the Encampment in one ride, no matter how long
it takes!"
Hammadi didn't argue, Kane had the feeling that he was pleased. He wanted to
get back and become involved in what he surmised was an attack from Eridos. Kane
settled down for a hard and tedious journey. Once the rhythm of the ride was
established, it was a matter of staying on the back of the Picun and trying to shield the
more tender parts from permanent damage. The usual unreality of riding over the red,
endless terrain, was replaced by a sense of urgency.
Long before they could have covered the distance, Kane found himself staring
ahead, straining his eyes for some sign of the tents of Obeid. The Picun seemed
tireless, the enforced rest and gorging on the Schwarm around the Ship, had turning
out to be an advantage. They seemed almost as eager to get home as their riders.
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Perhaps, they scented the herd, or they remembered the trickery of Hammadi's signal
and were determined to find their mates.
Kane sensed that he was at the beginning of the final phase of his stay on
Jubal. It might be a long drawn out phase of a hundred earth days but a great deal
would be resolved during that period. The culmination would be that he would leave
Jubal, together with his sworn enemy Eridos. Quetzal moved restlessly within. Kane
knew the signs, his inner lodger would gradually assume supremacy. The personality
of Kane Ashford would be submerged under something much stronger, more cynical
and less inclined to bend to the niceties of subtle relationships. Kane already started to
grieve for the parting with Hammadi - knowing it was sure to come.
Quetzal was lurking just below the level of consciousness, waiting to jump out
and assume command and to thrust down the weakling Kane. Quetzal would dictate
future events and he would dictate a path which Kane Ashford would not wish to
follow. There would be no choice, Quetzal would prevail. Kane Ashford might have
pipe dreams about flying the Ship with his son, but Quetzal would put a stop to that,
he had other plans to further the interests of the Masters of Psi.
Obeid had not moved the Encampment during the time of their absence. There
was a plentiful supply of Schwarm for the massive herd and this was always the
criteria for a movement. Kane was glad that their journey hadn't been lengthened. He
ought to have been utterly weary and stiff from the protracted ride, curiously, he was
very alert. He put it down to anticipation of what they would find and what instinct
had prompted the forced ride of over sixteen hours. There was always the possibility
that it was the inner man taking command and making himself ready to handle any
emergency.
As they rode into the outer fringe of the tents, it seemed that there were fewer
people about than was usual. The more they penetrated into the centre of the
Encampment and towards the tent of Obeid, the more his wariness increased. Kane
could see that Hammadi was equally puzzled. The relief in finding the Encampment at
peace, rather than under attack from Eridos, had given way to tenseness. As they came
to a stop in the shade of Obeid's tent, the flap was thrust aside and he stepped out to
meet them. His face was set hard, his greeting was far from cordial.
"So! Quetzal has returned!"
Kane tried to read a meaning into the remark and the tone of voice. He was
spared further effort, Quetzal came to the fore.
"Quetzal has returned and finds an unfriendly welcome!"
He saw Hammadi jerk his head back and stare at him.
"The man who was once my brother, is always welcome in my tents, but the
man who has come in his place, must earn his welcome!"
"Speak your mind, Obeid."
He changed tactics.
"You have pointed out my grave breech of our laws of hospitality. The Lord
Quetzal is weary and dirty from travel. I insist that he has the opportunity to rest,
clean himself and eat. After that, we will come to the question of the way he has been
welcomed."
Quetzal stared into the eyes of his host. His gaze was returned relentlessly.
Obeid was not afraid of him. Quetzal nodded slowly.
"I will respect your desire to fulfil the laws of hospitality, Obeid - then we will
come to the question of your attitude!"
Obeid gestured to one of his guards.
"Show the Lord Quetzal to his tent."
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Quetzal nudged his Picun and followed the guide, who pointed to a another
tent. Hammadi didn't follow, he had dismounted and had followed Obeid inside. Kane
surfaced momentarily, feeling a surge of warmth for his son who was prepared to risk
the anger of his uncle to find out what the hell was going on. The only thing he could
assume was, that Obeid had taken exception to seeing the Ship rise from the ground
after twenty thousand years without the permission of her nominal commander. That
was his thought, until he entered the allocated tent and when his eyes adjusted, he saw
what was suspended from the central pole.
The Pentacle with the image of Eridos imbedded in its centre, gleamed a dull
red in the filtered light. Kane let out a ragged sigh and gladly allowed himself to
submerge as Quetzal once more took control.
So, Obeid had been unable to resist the temptation to snoop through his bundle
and in so doing, had found the Pentacle. Quetzal smiled grimly, he was reminded of
an old saying which went something like: 'Those who listen at keyholes, never hear
anything good about themselves.' In this case, Obeid's curiosity had not only cost him
his peace of mind, but it had made him an enemy. Now, he was dangling his find in
front of Quetzal and was, no doubt waiting for the response. Kane Ashford would
have made a knee jerk reaction, which would have instantly produced retribution.
Quetzal was much more deliberate. He took his time and decided on a course of
action.
He stripped off the soiled Kous and slowly washed away the accumulation of
purple red dust. His bundle had been thoughtfully unpacked, so he selected the tunic
with the Pentacle emblem embroidered on the chest. With the unpacking of his
bundle, they had discovered the Pentacle. He took it from where it was hanging and
draped it around his neck on the outside of the tunic and then he sat and waited for
whatever the wily Obeid had planned for his reception.
After a while, the tent flap was raised and Hammadi stood in the opening.
Quetzal met his gaze without blinking.
"Obeid invites you to eat with him."
Quetzal smiled a little.
"I didn't think he was in the partying mood."
"He isn't! Hospitality demands that our guests are fed."
"Ah! Hospitality drives him! What happens when the obligations of looking
after a guest are exhausted?"
"That will be up to Obeid!"
"You sound very uncompromising, my son. Could it be that you are already
confronted with the choice we talked about earlier? The choice between Obeid and
Me!"
His gaze didn't waver.
"I gave you my answer then and I you haven't given me any reason to change
my mind."
"Perhaps, it will come to that before then end of our feasting."
He changed the subject.
"I've told the men not to mess with the Bole. It's still tied to the back of the
Picun. I'd like to return the animal to the herd."
Quetzal nodded and followed his son from the tent. He was conscious of the
gathering of men around them as he worked to untie the hide strips holding the Bole.
There was a mounting murmur of unrest. The Pentacle gleamed red in the reflected
light. He had no doubt that they knew whose image it contained, word would have
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circulated through the Encampment. He lowered the Bole to the ground and had time
to think ruefully, that it hadn't got any lighter. Hammadi was on the other side of the
Picun. Some of the herdsmen tried their hand at heroics.
About a half dozen suddenly stepped towards him, their intent was obvious.
They stopped abruptly, when the Bole took interest in the development and suddenly
reared up on it six legs. The pause was momentary, they continued a threatening
advance. Quetzal wondered momentarily, if the manoeuvre had the tacit approval of
Obeid, he found it hard to believe that they would have acted on their own initiative,
especially with Hammadi standing just a few paces away.
The Bole decided that they posed a threat to the person of its lord and master.
It took appropriate action. The last time it had done so had been on Lynxe and the
result was about the same. A blast of energy emitted from the side nearest to the
threatening sextet. When the short burst of activity ceased, two men were laying
moaning in the purple dust. They were very badly scorched across the chest. A third
was completely motionless, he was smouldering and had taken the full force of the
blast. The other three had changed their minds and had retreated into the body of the
silent crowd.
Quetzal looked around. Obeid was standing motionless in the entrance of his
tent, his arms folded across his chest. His face was the Jubal equivalent of white. He
stared at Quetzal, who inclined his head in greeting.
"I thank my brother Obeid, for your invitation to eat with you. I think some of
your men misunderstood your intentions. I'm afraid that my protector reacted
violently."
He looked across the back of the Picun at Hammadi. His face was drawn and
horrified and he stared at his father as if he was looking at a stranger. Quetzal smiled
slightly, the boy was right, he was a stranger. He looked back to Obeid. He was
directing his men to clear up the mess the Bole had made. The two moaning men were
being carried away. The motionless one was covered, it was mute testimony that no
one could mess with the Bole and expect to get away with it. Quetzal had the feeling
that Obeid was making a very rapid reassessment of his options.
He led the way into his tent and Quetzal followed. The Bole remained outside.
It wasn't an act of bravado on Kane's part, the hide walls were no obstacle and Obeid
knew it. Some of the elders of the Gens Obeid were gathered to feast with their Lord,
perhaps, that was not the only reason why they had gathered. They looked like the
participants in a Jubal version of a court martial. They were also making a
reassessment of the situation and were returning to their seats after the excitement.
Quetzal smiled cordially.
"To invite so many of the respected elders of your Gens for this occasion, is a
high honour indeed Obeid. I thank you!"
"Perhaps, you will not be so thankful by the time we come to the end of our
meeting, Kane Ashford!"
The belligerence had returned. Perhaps, it was a case of the Bole being out of
sight and out of mind.
"Kane Ashford isn't with you this evening, Obeid. Quetzal is!"
"I don't fear you, Quetzal - Kane Ashford, whatever or whoever you imagine
yourself to be. You have proved yourself to be no longer our friend and brother."
Quetzal's voice was deceptively mild.
"In what way have I proved myself unworthy of your friendship, Obeid? Was
it because I dared to unlock the Ship and let Hammadi fly her amongst the stars? Is it
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because I've given you the means to be rescued from this planet before the Dwarf
comes again? - Because, when it does, you and your entire Gens will surely die!"
There was a rustle of movement from the assembled elders. Obeid glared at
them until they were still. He turned to Quetzal.
"You show where you give your loyalty, Quetzal. You haven't unlocked the
Ship for our benefit. You intend to hand her over to the man whose image you so
proudly flaunt in our faces! You were careful to hide that thing away in your bundle
when you came to us and when you insinuated your fake friendship into Hammadi's
heart. You kept it hidden when he claimed you as his father and you took advantage of
his vulnerability. Now, it and your duplicity are out in the open. Don't imagine that
your trick box will save you from our punishment!"
Quetzal stared calmly into the furious face and sighed.
"It would seem that I was mistaken. I thought I was to be offered the courtesy
of a meal. Instead, I hear nothing but hostility and accusations. It is not the way
Quetzal, who serves the interests of the Masters of Psi, should be treated. Take care
that they don't react in the way you deserve!"
It was deliberately provocative. Kane Ashford squealed inwardly. Quetzal
ignored him. He watched Obeid and saw the small gesture which told him that the
moment of truth had arrived. Obeid was so angry that he had decided to risk
retribution from the Bole. Quetzal was at a disadvantage. The Bole's sensors couldn't
detect the covert instruction to seize him. Some of the elders responded to Obeid's
gesture and rose to their feet. Quetzal was in the centre of them, without even the
advantage of being able to back into a corner.
The power surged up in him. Once, on Lynxe, the Bole had told him that he
could generate his own force field. This was something much greater, it was the
channelling of something the human form of Kane Ashford had never before
experienced. More of the elders were rising. Quetzal looked around the menacing
circle and smiled gently. They moved forward in a concerted rush and suddenly, they
were thrown to the ground. Most looked as if they had had the wind knocked out of
them.
Quetzal turned back to Obeid, just in time. The furious Lord of the Gens, was
looming over him. Quetzal didn't give ground. He stared into his attacker's eyes and
Obeid faltered. Quetzal looked down and focused his eyes on his groin. Obeid let out
a bellow of agony and clutched himself before falling to writhe on the floor.
"I won't stay for your feast, Obeid. Thank you for your hospitality."
He walked through the debris of the high council and reflected that he would
have liked to have had the capability of doing something similar to the Grand Council
of New Earth Confederation. The sudden thought of them was incongruous in the
setting of the baleful red light of Jubal's star. Quetzal was ebbing away and a weary
Kane Ashford was emerging. He felt physically battered, as if he had been engaged in
mortal combat and had only just survived. It was the way he always felt when Quetzal
had used the facilities of his human form, and had drawn upon reserves of strength he
never knew existed.
He made it back to the tent he had been allocated and was fairly sure that he
wouldn't be disturbed for a while. To be on the safe side, he ordered the Bole to take
up station inside the tent. He desperately need to sleep without the concern of finding
himself trussed up and imprisoned when he woke. Hammadi didn't pay a further visit.
It was understandable from a number of angles. He had an urgent need to re-evaluate
their relationship - quite apart from the fact that the ruling lights of the Gens Obeid
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were in urgent need of immediate repairs. Kane grinned in the red tinted darkness.
Obeid had received quite a hammer blow in the balls!
He was too tired to debate his next move. Much would depend on what Obeid
elected to do. The question of Eridos had also to be resolved, but before he could give
it any thought, he was asleep. It seemed only moments later when the Bole woke him
with the alarm signal. Kane could see a shadow silhouetted against the hide wall.
There was only one.
"It is me, my father, I am alone."
It was a promising introduction, perhaps, all was forgiven.
"Come in, Hammadi - the Bole will behave itself."
He entered and stood awkwardly just inside the flap. He carried some food.
"I thought you might be hungry."
"I'm starving! You're a good friend!"
"I hope so, my father. I don't understand what is happening, but I still want to
be your friend."
"That's good to hear, Hammadi. Tell me, how is Obeid?"
"He is hurting - and he has a temper to go with the hurt! What did you do to
him?"
"I thought that was obvious - I gave him a mental punch in the balls! He'll
recover. The silly bastard asked for what he got!"
"Does anyone ask to be hurt, my father?"
"Hammadi, I didn't want to hurt you - or your mother. I would like to talk to
her - alone. There is so much I have to explain. Obeid has closed his ears to me,
perhaps, Ajanta can talk some sense into him."
Hammadi gave eyed him critically.
"I will ask her, my father - but, if she refuses, don't be surprised. You have
brought her much pain."
He left the tent and Kane contemplated the food on the platter - at least, it
wasn't hard tack. He ate quickly and then launched into a flurry of anticipation for the
meeting with Ajanta. A bath was out of the question, but a shave wasn't. The Bole was
pressed into service as a tonsorial artist. The result was satisfactory and proved that
the conversion from a weapon of mass destruction to that of valet had been made
without a gliche in the programming. There was no mirror, so he wasn't able to judge
the visual effect, perhaps, it didn't matter. The interview was going to be difficult.
Hammadi reappeared within the hour, he was wooden faced and for a moment,
Kane thought that Ajanta might have refused to see him.
"My mother will see you in four thousand, five hundred heartbeats."
He didn't sound enthusiastic and the response posed some rapid mathematical
calculation. Kane surmised that his son didn't approve of his father paying court to his
mother and that four thousand, five hundred heartbeats was the equivalent of one hour
- depending on one's state of excitement.
Hammadi returned and led the way in silence, he pointed to a tent which stood
apart from the others. He then turned on his heel without a word and stalked off in the
direction of his own quarters. Kane shrugged, hostility bristled from the stiff, square
shoulders and the uncompromising set of his head. There was nothing he could do
about it - and he was over twenty one - and so was Hammadi's mother. Without
wishing to be ungallant, she was considerably over the age of twenty one!
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CHAPTER 16
Kane was spared the mental debate about how one knocks on the cloth of a
tent flap. As he approached, Ajanta moved it aside and stood framed in the entrance.
She had discarded her Kous and wore a tunic. He caught his breath, she was very
beautiful. Her black hair was released from the pins which usually kept it hidden
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underneath the hood of the Kous. It fell loose to her waist, she looked like a young
girl. It was impossible to accept that she was eight thousand years old.
He brushed against her, as she held the tent flap open for him to enter. It hadn't
been deliberate on his part. There was a fragrance, it might have been a perfume,
although he couldn't imagine what could be used as ingredients. He was aware that
she had also made herself ready for him.
"What is it you want to say, Kane Ashford."
She spoke in Solari, it was the only sign of unbending, she hadn't invited him
to make himself comfortable. It looked as if he was expected do his negotiations
standing, draped in the heavy Kous. It wasn't the way he wanted it.
"I want to talk to you about us and the things which have happened since - er -
before."
She was stiff faced and silent. He exploded.
"Damn it, Ajanta! I can't talk to you dressed up in this thing - I feel like a
messenger boy!"
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, it didn't reach her eyes, she was still wary.
"Still the same old Kane. If you feel in the wrong, you start to bluster!"
"I don't feel in the wrong! If you listen to what I have to say, you might agree
that there isn't any right or wrong about the situation."
She contemplated him silently.
"I know your tricks, Kane Ashford. If I tell you take off your Kous, it's as good
as inviting you to go to bed!"
He raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment.
"If that's all that's worrying you. I promise to act like a perfect gentleman -
boring though that might be - and only suggest going to bed, if you suggest it first!"
He grinned and slowly, she thawed and smiled back. He undid the tie of the
Kous and allowed it to drop to the ground. She indicated a place on a pile of hides,
waited until he was seated and then sat herself, some distance away. She folded her
hands and calmly waited for him to begin.
He went through the entire story from beginning to end. He started with his
own birth, childhood and adulthood on Mars and then progressed to the method of his
arrival on Lynxe. He glossed over the episodes of Hara and Maia and then explained
how he had left Lynxe and his arrival on Jubal. He paused and saw the puzzlement in
her eyes, he continued.
"Ajanta, I'm a traveller in time. It's very hard to explain in simple words, but
travelling in the Psi isn't necessarily in chronological order. I can go from one world
to another and then come back to the first, earlier than my first visit. I want to make
you understand, I haven't met you yet! We haven't loved and conceived a child! It's
not that I can't remember, it's simply that it hasn't happened yet for me - but it will!"
He paused again and floundered on, trying to make her understand and all the
time, she continued to stare at him, making the recitation seem all the more
unbelievable, even to himself. In the end he faltered into silence and stared at her
helplessly.
"Well, say something!"
She gave him a severe look, but her mouth seemed a little softer.
"That's the best story I've heard in a few thousand of your years! There would
be some of our young bucks who would give their eye teeth to get their mouths
around it. It's too improbable not to be true! I believe you, Kane. Thousands wouldn't!
I'm like a wife who's husband comes home and says: 'Sorry I'm late, dear, but actually,
we've never met before. How's the children!'. Kane Ashford, I have the feeling that
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you will use that story again - perhaps when you meet your Hara and Maia - and the
children you undoubtedly begat!"
Kane's mouth opened slightly and then closed. She smiled.
"So, I am right. You have left these other women with children. You seem to
take the purpose of your Masters very seriously. Are you trying to fertilise the entire
galaxy all by yourself? Even for Kane Ashford, that would be quite an undertaking!"
He could see the mockery in her eyes. She was certainly trying to make things
as hard as she could.
"It's not my fault, you know. I can't control my movements. I go where I'm
sent, when I'm sent!"
"It's never been your fault, Kane. Nothing was ever your fault. Even when it
comes to impregnating luckless females of whatever species you might be visiting!"
His anger was rising, he glared at her.
"It takes two to make love - unless you have a different method on Jubal!"
She smiled.
"So, we have never loved? If we had, you would remember."
Kane rose abruptly and made ready to make an exit whilst he still possessed
some dignity.
"Thank you for your gracious reception. I won't bother you with my presence
any further."
"Still behaving like a spoilt child, Kane?"
He glared down at her.
"Just what do you want from me, lady? I came here to try to explain and to tell
you that I have no fight with Obeid - or with Eridos. I hoped you would talk some
sense into your brother - it seems I was wrong."
She stood up and walked behind him. He swung around, not knowing what
she intended to do. She stood a metre away from him and was smiling like a mother
does to a fractious child. He did the only thing possible to wipe the provocative smile
from her face. He grabbed her and kissed her - hard. He let go and glared at her. She
hadn't responded, but somehow, she still managed to smile.
"Did that make you feel better?"
He didn't release her.
"No! But this might!"
He dragged her into his arms and felt her softness against him. He knew it was
total madness and Obeid would surely take his revenge for the violation of his sister.
It didn't matter. The tunic slipped from her shoulders and dropped to the ground. He
threw her on the pile of hides, she didn't try to escape, instead she watched him pull
off his own tunic. She didn't resist - but then, she didn't respond either - not at first. He
took her and then, the hunger of four thousand years overcame her. It was wild and
violent and afterwards, it was he who felt he had been used. He thought of Maia and
her prediction, he would have had to have been a eunuch not to respond to Ajanta's
invitation.
He lay on his back and stared at the dark red light through the hide walls of the
tent. His body was gleaming with sweat. Ajanta lay quietly beside him, he realised
that she had been reasserting her rights of possession. He had been hers first. The
sensual side of his nature asserted itself and they loved again and again. He had a
feeling of inevitability, in this as well, he was being used by his Masters. It was part of
the pattern which had to be played out.
There was no doubting that she was beautiful, her body was perfection. The
sensual, dominant part of him appreciated that and ignored the clamour of protest
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which told him that there was something obscene in coupling with a woman who had
an over seven and a half thousand year old edge in experience. How many, he
wondered, was he being compared to?
When the time came that he had to leave her, she protested lazily. After so
long, did he have to leave so quickly? Wasn't he able to sustain his potency? Couldn't
he manage to satisfy a woman anymore? It had been different before Hammadi had
been born - then, he had been more of a man. She impugned his virility and manliness
with sly mockery. The sensual man was goaded into proving otherwise and his
departure was delayed longer.
Eventually, she let him go and watched as he pulled his tunic over his head
and swung the Kous across his shoulders. She didn't attempt to dress, laying on the
couch as he had left her. He didn't say anything, as he lifted the tent flap and left.
He stood for a moment and breathed the hot, dusty air. He felt unclean - used.
It had never felt like that before when he had left a woman - even when he had left a
whore. On those occasions, it had been functional, a business proposition, a
satisfaction of the appetite. This had been different, he felt punished. Ajanta had set
out to punish him for the long millennia of neglect, for Hara and Maia and the others.
He walked back to his tent.
He ignored the pointed stares of the three young men who waited for him. He
tossed his tunic to one side and remained shrouded in the Kous. Dagh and Motya had
joined Hammadi. They knew what had happened, either that, or they were still wet
behind the ears. He said brusquely.
"I'm glad to see that you're still with me."
They said nothing but eyed him uncomfortably.
"It would not have been an easy decision - to remain loyal to me, despite all
I've done."
Hammadi's face was wooden, Kane stared at him, mentally urging him to say
what was on his mind.
"Obeid is recovering from his - injury. The others injured by the Bole, are also
making progress. We have just buried the one who was killed. He was two and a half
days old."
There was a wealth of suppressed accusation and hostility in his voice. The
inner man surged to the surface, Quetzal's response was harsh.
"When you are a leader, you have to expect casualties. You are to be the leader
of your people very soon, Hammadi. Not only those within this Encampment, but also
those within the Encampment of Eridos. You had better start thinking and acting like a
leader and not a child! For a man of two days, it is surprising that you haven't learned
some of the hard facts of life. When a man is attacked, he will defend himself with
whatever means are available. The Bole defends me, because it is a machine which is
designed to defend its master. It would kill you all if you were unwise enough to
attack me. The fact that you are my son would not save you!
What happened to Obeid is another matter. His injuries are due to his audacity
in trying to stand against the will of those who are the Masters. They will be obeyed,
Obeid is not permitted to defy them. In the complexity of their plan they have
designated Eridos to be one of my Companions of the Image. They take no notice of
your private wars on Jubal. Their purpose is far superior to your petty squabbles!"
Hammadi had gone pale, whilst Dagh and Motya had that gaping look, which
meant that their ears were open to matters usually reserved for their betters. Kane
surfaced and sighed mentally, he had, without a doubt, lowered Hammadi's prestige in
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their eyes. For once, he didn't much care. Quetzal had spoken and had made his
mission clear. Quetzal asserted himself again and went on.
"I talk to you now as Quetzal. I am to be obeyed also - even as the Masters of
Psi are to be obeyed. You will strike the tents of the Encampment and move your
people towards the place of the Great Arch. Obeid is not longer the leader here! You
are to assume command! You will do this immediately, without reference to Obeid. I
will attend to his objections. You will now lead me to his tent!"
Kane gestured to Dagh and Motya to remain and then moved to the tent flap.
He stared at Hammadi pointedly. Kane was not looking at his son. Quetzal was
looking to a man who was required to obey his commands. He thought for a few
moments that Hammadi would rebel, but there must have been something he read in
the look, which persuaded him otherwise. He preceded his father out of the tent into
the throbbing heat.
They walked across the open ground towards the tent of Obeid. Kane had
often wondered how the news of some impending event gets around so quickly. Men
began to gather from all directions, perhaps they had been waiting for such a
visitation since Obeid had been injured. Hammadi had to shoulder his way through
them, followed by a silent Kane.
The two guards at the entrance to the tent hesitated and then they stepped aside
when they saw Hammadi. The visitors entered without ceremony. Obeid was reclining
on a pile of hides. He was naked and in obvious pain. He was also in a foul temper.
He ground out.
"And to what do I owe this visit from the illustrious Quetzal? Come to gloat
over your handiwork? Feel free to take a look."
Obeid's genitals were an interesting shade of dark purple. Quetzal smiled
slightly.
"Your women should find the new colour interesting."
Obeid glowered and mouthed an obscenity.
"What do you want?"
"I've given Hammadi instructions to break camp and to assume command of
the Gens!"
Obeid's eyes narrowed to a slit. He breathed.
"The hell you have! Well, go on, Great One. What other interesting surprises
have you got in store?"
"You saw the result of my visit to the Ship?"
Obeid made no gesture of agreement, but Quetzal could see the subject
interested him.
"Hammadi can tell you what he saw. Your people are within one hundred of
my days from being destroyed. That is when the Dwarf will return. It is the
assessment of the computer on the Ship. If you have any residue in you of the man
your father was, you will still have some sort of scientific mind. You will know that
the Ship's Command Computer doesn't make a mistake."
Obeid grunted, it could have meant anything.
"This is my direction to you, as it has been to Eridos. The Division and the
Enmity must come to an end. He has been instructed to bring his Gens to the place of
the Great Arch. Hammadi will do the same. That is my command!"
It was an interesting sight to see the steam begin to rise. Kane waited for it to
issue from his ears. It didn't quite come to that.
"So, you have commanded! Well, I give my instruction. Get to hell out of my
sight! I give the orders here, not Hammadi. If I say we stay, we stay! If I say that we
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will take over the Ship you have so conveniently opened for us, we will take it over!
As for Eridos and his band of traitors, they can meet the Dwarf face to face. I say to
you, get to hell out of my camp and throw yourself on the mercy of your friend
Eridos. I say, get out of my tent before I get to my feet - otherwise, I'll kill you, my
dear brother Quetzal!"
There was no mistaking his intentions, he half rose. He had spoken softly.
Quetzal held his ground.
"Hammadi commands here. If you try to stand in his way, I will kill you! I can
do so from far away, make no mistake! I will do to the rest of your body, what I did to
you balls! You will die in agony!"
They stared into each other's eyes, their wills locked in a ferocious battle. It
was an uneven struggle, Quetzal had to keep his power on the leash, otherwise Obeid
would have been a dead man. He felt real regret, they would become bosom
companions when he returned into the past of this man. A real companionship
between Obeid, Ajanta and himself, would develop. He wondered how he would be
able to become the man they remembered, after all the hatred and strife which had
been generated.
Obeid tried to struggle to his feet. His body was lean and in the peak of
condition. His muscles stood out like knots, as he tried to smother the pain of putting
weight on his lower limbs. He slumped back, sweating, exhausted and defeated. If he
could have killed his adversary with a look, Quetzal would have been dead twice.
Kane rose to the surface briefly.
"It's a pity we can't part friends, as we once were. Ask Ajanta to tell you the
story, I haven't time. She tells me that we were once like brothers. I would have like
that relationship to have continued."
Kane thought he sounded genuine, he felt genuine. Obeid seemed to hesitated
and for a moment, Kane thought he might have penetrated the stiff pride and
animosity.
"Yes - I have no doubt Ajanta could tell a story or two. I've heard about the
cosy session you spent with her. You can always trust a woman to let her emotions get
the better of her logic. No doubt, you stirred the old fires. Hammadi, you've wrapped
around your little finger and you've fooled Ajanta - or so you might think. You won't
soft talk me, Quetzal. We were like brothers, but you're not the man with whom I
shared the cloak two days ago. You're someone different. Him, I could trust. You I
can't.
Well, it so happens that you're not the only one who can fool and delude. It's
time I told you a few things which you either don't know, or which you've chosen not
to remember. It seems that Eridos is a great friend of yours these days. I suppose you
claim not to remember the incident which caused the blood feud between you? I'll
remind you.
It was the night before you took Ajanta as your woman. You were intent on
killing Eridos then, nothing would cool your blood lust! It was you who started the
fight which nearly got us all killed. Take a good look at Hammadi and then take
another look at that obscenity you seem to like flashing around. Is Hammadi really
your son, great Quetzal?"
Kane stared at him, Quetzal had retreated and was acting the onlooker. He
hoped he didn't look as stricken as he felt. It was a return blow for the one Obeid had
received. There was a half-smile on his face, he was enjoying the victory. Kane started
to shake with cold fury. The hatred of the man was hard to believe. He was prepared
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to destroy his sister and her son, just so that he could settle his score. Kane's voice
came from a distance.
"I too, have no remembrance of the man Obeid used to be. I suppose he must
have been a honourable man at that time, otherwise I would not have given him my
trust - nor would I have shared the cloak. Today, it seems, Obeid has no honour!"
He turned on his heel before he could answer and let the tent flap drop to shut
him out of his sight. If he had stayed longer, he would have killed him! Kane heard
Hammadi follow him - he had said nothing in answer to Obeid's disclosure. Kane
opened his stride and thrust through the silent crowd towards his tent. He couldn't
bear to look at him, or see the questioning blue eyes. He had no answers.
Just short of the tent, Kane turned abruptly.
"Let's go for a ride - alone!"
Dagh and Motya, who had come to the tent entrance at their approach, took
the hint and melted into the crowd. Kane and Hammadi walked in silence to the corral
and selected two Picun. Kane vaulted on without thinking, he was almost an expert by
this time. They rode out of the camp maintaining the silence, conscious of the stares
of those who worked around the tents. The crowd who had gathered for the
confrontation had dispersed.
It was obvious that Hammadi had already put his instructions into effect. Tents
were coming down, packing was under way. They cleared the Encampment and
headed into the open country, soon, they were swallowed in a dense tangle of
Schwarm. Hammadi burst out suddenly.
"Does my father believe Obeid?
Kane's response was bitter.
"Why not? Does he have a reason good enough to lie about the virtue of his
sister and call his nephew a bastard?"
Kane knew it hurt him, but he was hurting too. He had been proud of his son.
He had been honoured when he had been called 'my father'. It had been a unique
relationship and now it was destroyed. Hammadi said doggedly.
"You are my father. Nothing can alter that. I am not Eridos' bastard. I will not
be his bastard!"
They rode on, letting the Picun pick the way.
"I wish I could give you a straight answer, Hammadi. I don't know if Obeid's
lying or not - I haven't lived through it yet. Only three people know the truth and I
wouldn't trust any of them to tell it. I'm sorry, Hammadi, but not even your mother can
be trusted to tell the truth. She's kept it hidden for so long and that's they way it would
have stayed, if Obeid hadn't wanted to retaliate."
Hammadi suddenly defended his uncle.
"You have to understand him. You've suddenly reappeared out of nowhere.
You say you can't remember anything which he remembers. You carry a hidden image
of our sworn enemy. You injure Obeid in front of his followers, you strike him where
it will provide the most humour. You bring him down to the dust. You give him orders
and strip the remaining authority from him. You make impossible demands - like
insisting that we come to a reconciliation with Eridos. You have demanded a great
deal, my father!"
"I thought you understood, Hammadi."
"I know and understand - but I've seen what is to happen and they haven't. I'll
carry out your wishes - but don't expect Obeid to yield."
"If he gets in the way, he will be stopped! You still might be called on to
choose - Obeid or me!"
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CHAPTER 17
The Picun had turned back towards the Encampment. There seemed no
purpose in riding around aimlessly. They were silent on the return ride. Obeid couldn't
have realised how he would have alienated the boy to whom he had been a father, by
speaking of his mother and Eridos as he had. Kane felt almost sorry for him - at least,
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he still had Hammadi on his side. For the time being, it was easier to pretend that
Obeid hadn't spoken and that things were as they had been earlier.
Kane debated his next move and decided that it was time to leave the
Encampment where he was now an enemy. The temptation would be too great for
someone to have a misguided intention of avenging Obeid's injuries. On the other
hand, it was time for him to meet his Companion of the Image, Eridos. What
reception he could expect was another question. The sooner he was away the better -
for another reason. He had no desire for further contact with Ajanta.
Hammadi escorted him to the entrance to his tent. Dagh and Motya appeared
at the same moment.
"I suggest that you remain within your tent, my father. Your Body companions
will remain with you."
Kane growled.
"I don't need anyone to protect my honour!"
He was sorry as soon as he said it, Hammadi's lips tightened.
"It is a question of security, my father. You have many enemies among our
Gens!"
Kane nodded slowly.
"I'd already made up my mind to leave, Hammadi. I'll make it as soon as
possible - but now, I need some rest."
He slept solidly, which was surprising. He had four guards, three young
looking multi centenarians and the Bole. They were undisturbed until it was time for
him to wake. Hammadi was absent, Dagh and Motya eyed him with reserve. He
wondered where their loyalties really lay, perhaps it came down to who Hammadi
trusted, they trusted. Hammadi returned, he looked more wooden faced than usual.
"My mother wishes to talk with you, she expects you in five thousand heart
beats."
Kane wasted a half hour feeling savage and mutinous. In the end, he hurried to
make himself presentable and marched out of the tent. There was a ghost of a smile on
the faces of Dagh and Motya. Hammadi escorted him through groups of herdsmen
striking the nearer tents. They gave him no recognition. Kane hardly noticed, his mind
was seething with anticipation. This time, he was determined that there wasn't going
to be a seduction scene.
She had said that she wanted to talk - so did he! Talk it would be and nothing
else. He wasn't a prize stallion to be used to gratify her appetite, or to vent her spite -
or whatever other motive she might have.
She didn't meet him at the tent entrance and Hammadi had already stalked
away. He hovered outside - indecisive. He knew she could see his silhouette through
the thin walls of hide. He couldn't stay where he was without announcing his
apprehension. He suddenly felt like a schoolboy on his first visit to a brothel, not sure
whether he wanted to go through with it, but not wanting to miss the experience
either. He pulled the flap aside and entered.
The air inside was sweet-smelling. She had prepared the ground. He knew the
signs only too well. He tried to steel his determination but he knew it was a lost cause
before he started. He let the flap drop behind him. The light was subdued and it took
his eyes a few moments to adjust. She was half-reclining on a soft pile of skins. It was
as if she had been waiting in that position since the last time he had left her. She said
softly.
"Let's talk."
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The time to talk came later. The people of the Encampment probably didn't
much care what was happening within the hide walls of the tent. He had never met
moralists among the people of Jubal. If such a breed existed, they would probably
have concluded that the Lord Quetzal had the intestinal fortitude of a rabbit
confronted by a snake. The only one making any accusations was Kane himself. The
similarity between himself and Ajanta and the rabbit and the snake, was crossing only
that minute portion of his mind which was still active enough to protest.
The time for talking came when they had spent themselves - even she had to
call a halt. He had a fleeting thought that she was getting old and it was very hot.
They laid in the languid after calm of satisfaction. She stirred after a while. He said
abruptly, before she could get any other ideas.
"Obeid has been talking."
She said nothing and he knew she was waiting.
"He had something to say about Hammadi."
"What about Hammadi?"
"Obeid seems to think that he isn't my son!"
He heard her gasp and she said something he didn't quite understand in the old
language.
"He said that Eridos is Hammadi's father. Obeid is highly delighted to think
that I'm a cuckold."
"I don't know that word."
"A cuckold is the husband of an unfaithful wife. More to the point, he is
someone who has been fooled into thinking that a child is his, when in fact, some
other bastard has done the deed!"
"And, you believe this?"
"Why not? You treat me like some sort of possession! No, don't deny it. I've
committed the unforgivable sin of loving other women and giving them children. Your
revenge has been to make me perform for you like a stud Picun!"
She answered coldly.
"I didn't hear you complaining. Now, perhaps, you'd better go! There's nothing
more to be said between us."
"Oh! A lot more I think. For instance. Is Hammadi my son or not? Did you lay
with Eridos before you came to me? What was the reason for the anger I had four
thousand of my years ago, which, quote: 'nearly got us all killed', unquote? I'd like a
few answers, Ajanta!"
"I have no answers for you or for anybody else. Now get out! Go, before I
scream for help. Can you imagine the scene. The great Lord Quetzal raping Ajanta!"
They glared at each other. He could have killed her easily, she deserved it.
"I think you given me all the answers I need. Once a whore, always a whore!"
She gave him a swipe across the mouth which drew blood. It was worth it. He
got to his feet and swung the Kous across his shoulders. He didn't bother about the
tunic. He managed some sort of smile, no doubt it was bleak.
"Thank you for your - hospitality - you are very generous. God knows how I'll
be able to love you when I come back to Jubal again - Perhaps I'll be lucky and have
amnesia."
"Get out!"
He obeyed, he was glad to get out of her sight. He had ended love affairs on a
better note. He felt desperately weary and it was nothing to do with a surfeit of sexual
exercise. The emotional impact of the past few hours threatened to overwhelm him.
He wandered back to his tent and found that his three Body Companions were off on
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their own devices. No doubt, they had assumed his session with Ajanta would be
much more prolonged. He rolled up in his Kous and pretended to sleep.
He was over-tired, emotionally drained. He couldn't escape his thoughts. All
he could hear was Obeid's bitter sneers or Ajanta's dismissal. Eventually, he drifted
into sleep. The old familiar scene emerged and this time, the details were sharp. No
longer was the surrounding landscape something alien and obscured. Now, Kane
knew it. He saw the great arch of natural rock, through which he had arrived on Jubal.
In this dream, unlike the others, he was alone. Even the Companions of the Image
were absent.
The great expanse of purple beach stretched empty on each side of the arch, as
far as the eye could see. The ocean rolled, black and oily, lapping on to the sand. Far
above, spaced out in mutual avoidance, the Sentinels wheeled high in the thermal
upthrust created by the junction of super heated land and the cooler ocean.
The power of Quetzal surged within him and he was no longer Kane Ashford,
who was relegated to the subconscious, like a puling infant. He waited for what he
was sure was to come. The great red star was bloated and distorted, touching the
horizon of the black sea. It appeared to float on the water and out to one side a great,
bright belch of stellar gas, haemorrhaged into a fantastic solar flare. The time frame
was being accelerated, he could actually see the pulsing growth of the spume of gas
growing, reaching out for the hidden attraction of the advancing Dwarf.
Above him, the Flock was coalescing, drawing nearer to each other, so that the
sky was darkened by their passage. They were streaming across the face of the land
and the ocean, it was as if the Migration had started - but he knew it was a vision of
things yet to happen.
From within the arch, there grew an intense brilliance, so that he thought he
might be wrong and that the Dwarf had actually come. It was a light so bright that his
eyes were unable to bear it. The ground shook beneath his feet. He wasn't frightened,
he waited. A voice sighed in the wind.
"Why is our brother so tardy in fulfilling his purpose?"
Another answered.
"He draws close to the completion of the second phase."
"Will he succeed?"
"He will succeed."
"The human form hinders him."
"It will obey, it is unable to resist. We are those who must be obeyed. If it
rebels, it will be destroyed."
"It has a purpose in the plan, it will be subjected to the will of Quetzal."
Quetzal listened in silence, this was not the time for him to join the
conversation of his peers. The light within the arch faded and with it, the scene on the
shore of the black ocean. He woke without fear and alert. Zayez, Harma and Hella had
come close to him, reassuring and warning him that they were watching the pace of
events. One had been absent - they whom they called Sharta on this planet.
They had reminded him that they were all powerful and didn't deal in kindness
and compassion. The message to the submerged Kane Ashford had been clear enough
- obey or be destroyed. Eridos had to be sought out and made to comply with their
plan. It didn't matter that the human form of Kane Ashford already hated him as a
result of events which had not yet happened, but with whose consequences he was
living. Eridos was his sworn enemy. Quetzal stared up into the diffused light of the
tent roof. Sharta had not been present in his meeting with the Masters of Psi. Perhaps,
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Sharta was already on Jubal - waiting for the next episode in the perpetual battle -
What if Sharta was Eridos?
Quetzal receded into his dormancy and Kane was left with the memories of
what they had experienced. He had been warned - obey or else. He knew he didn't
have an option. He got up from the bed and assembled his belongings and tied them in
the travel bundle. There seemed no valid reason to hang around the Encampment of
Obeid. He seemed to leave a trail of destruction behind him wherever he went. On
Lynxe, his passing had managed to shatter a society which had held peacefully
together for ten thousand years. On Jubal, so far, he had managed to alienate a man
who had considered him a brother and to depose him from his position of authority.
Hammadi was torn between two loyalties and couldn't really be blamed if he decided
to support his uncle. Eridos was his sworn enemy and now, he intended to confront
him. It was an undertaking which was almost sure to end in disaster. As an emissary
of the Masters of Psi, he wasn't doing so well.
The future was bleak and he didn't overestimate his chances of persuading a
reluctant people to change their minds and evacuate a planet which was about to be
destroyed by forces he was unable to control. Hammadi chose that moment to make
himself available. He eyed the preparations for imminent departure.
"I'm moving on, Hammadi."
"I'll organise Dagh and Motya."
"Alone."
"That is suicidal - you won't last a thousand heartbeats!"
"I can look after myself."
"With half the Gens Obeid sworn to eliminate his enemy?"
"No one will try anything - remember what the Bole can do - even from the
back of a Picun."
"You will get lost - unless you know your way around the plain, you'll end up
going in circles."
"One of the Bole's better features is being able to navigate in a straight line."
"You might be attacked by black cloaks, they're always patrolling and probing
our defences. You'll probably end up being chased into a Myrc forest! Then, there's
the Sentinels, you could easily blunder onto an egg-womb!"
"I'm going alone, Hammadi! It's something I have to do! You are needed here.
You are responsible for moving the Gens to the arch. You need Dagh and Motya -
don't argue with me!"
He fell silent and shook his head. Kane turned away and took a long time to tie
his bundle. This was the inevitable, painful moment of parting from the man who
claimed to be his son - even that was in doubt. Kane pushed the thought from his
mind and stalked out of the tent without another word. He walked towards the corral
where the Picun were tethered. Most of the nearer tents were being dismantled. He
passed one where the walls were already down. He paused, within, they had been
manufacturing Kous. On the ground, were stacks of half finished garments. He turned
to Hammadi.
"These are white."
He nodded in the face of the obvious.
"They're all white before they're dyed."
Kane looked at the stacks.
"You dye them!"
"We dye them with the juice of a plant. It's one hell of a messy job - most of us
try to avoid it."
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Kane walked between the piles.
"I'll save you the trouble with this lot. I want all new Kous to remain white! I
want a complete reissue of all Kous to every man, woman and child in the
Encampment - there are to be no exceptions! Understood?"
"No! I don't understand! The grey cloak is our badge of identity. It's something
of which we're proud. I'll soon have a revolt on my hands if I try to enforce your
order!"
"That's precisely why it must be changed. It's a badge of identity. There have
been grey cloaks and black cloaks for far too long. Now, there will be all white
cloaks. It is part of the new beginning, the end of the Division and the Enmity!"
"That sounds all very fine and wonderful, but you can't alter the habits of
millions of heartbeats by changing the colour of a cloak! All I can promise to do is to
have enough ready for use. That won't be hard, we have a complete reissue from time
to time - and with moving the Encampment, we won't have time to dye them anyway.
I'll leave the persuading to the great Quetzal!"
Kane smiled, he was showing more and more of his characteristics. The smile
faded, perhaps he was just showing the independence of authority. Hammadi wasn't
his son. Kane suddenly felt the urgency to get away into the solitude of the open plain.
His three Body Companions fulfilled their final duties and escorted him out of
the camp. They pointed him in the right direction and Kane relied on the Bole to
figure out what that was. His leaving the Encampment passed without apparent notice,
but he knew his going was noted. Of Ajanta and Obeid, there was no sign, he wasn't
surprised. If ever a relationship had gone sour in double quick time, it was that which
was supposed to have existed between the three of them.
Kane admitted to feeling a certain degree of guilt about Ajanta. He had gone
about the matter of Obeid's insinuations in a totally wrong way. He hadn't given her
the chance to manoeuvre, nor had he given her the benefit of the doubt. He had lashed
out in anger and hurt, and more than probably, in guilt at having allowed himself to
have had sexual relations with her. The memory of Maia was still too fresh, and that
memory had made Ajanta a whore.
He was aware that his escort was hoping that he would change his mind. They
had come equipped with their travel bundles. They were ready for a long journey,
even though they had tried unsuccessfully to keep them hidden. He knew he couldn't
weaken. Eventually, he would contact Eridos' men and when that happened, it was
more than likely that they would be killed, simply because they wore a grey cloak.
He stopped and turned to them.
"Here we must part. I want to thank you for your loyalty - Dagh and Motya, I
want you to become even closer companions to Hammadi. He is going to need you to
guard his back in the times of trouble which are going to come. I can care for myself.
I have the Bole - and above all, I am not destined to die on Jubal! The Lord Quetzal
has already shown the extent of his powers and these will be used again if I come into
any danger. Now, I thank you again - you must return!"
Hammadi dismounted and Kane followed. They clasped each other in a silent,
last hug of farewell. Hammadi steadied his voice.
"The red star is to be on your right quarter for the entire journey. You will see
the pinnacles of the Crag Caverns after two of your days. If you wish to visit there,
you must change direction. Avoid all contact with the Sentinels, make a detour if you
see one soaring above, it might mean that there is an egg-womb close by. Remember
the Legend, my father! If you see any black cloaks, go to ground in the Schwarm and
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stay there until they move on. If you are captured, then, you are on your own and may
the Masters of Psi help you! Go in peace, my father!"
Kane hugged him again and took the hands of Dagh and Motya.
"I don't expect any tricks from you - like trying to track me."
Their faces fell, they nodded and nudged their Picun and headed towards the
Encampment. He watched them dwindle from sight and suddenly realised that this
was the first time since coming to Jubal, that he had not had at least one of them with
him. He was on his own
He activated the Bole - he wasn't quite on his own. It was perched on the back
of the second Picun.
"Status."
"Integrity."
"Did you take note of the directions I received?"
"Affirmative."
"OK, you're the navigator - don't get us lost."
"My navigational capabilities are at full capacity."
"I'm very reassured."
Kane nudged the Picun into a leisurely walk, the animal moaned with
pleasure. If there was one thing a Picun liked better than a leisurely walk, it was to
stop altogether and browse on the lush Schwarm growth. Kane now had the advantage
of the Bole as a timekeeper, but long before the mandatory twelve hours had elapsed,
which was the usual length of a day's ride, he called a halt. He had spotted a
conglomerate of huge boulders, which had usually been the signal for Hammadi to
establish a camp. He was even more self congratulatory, when he discovered that it
boasted a pool of fresh water which had seeped to the surface. It was big enough to
serve as a bath.
Kane didn't take too long over his ablutions, there was always the possibility
of visitors, who might be heading towards Jubal's apology for an oasis. The Bole was
set on sentry duty with strict instructions to issue a warning at the slightest sign of
movement on the plain.
The end of the next ride, brought him in sight of the pinnacles. They could just
be seen, shimmering through the heat haze like a mirage. The course set by the Bole
had been dead accurate. He didn't swell its head with undue praise, there were few
thing worse in creation, than a swollen headed computer. He didn't make a dash for
the Crag Caverns, something urged caution. He decided to camp again and meet the
trials of another day fresh from a good night's sleep. This time, there was no
convenient cluster of boulders, nor any water welling up from the ground. He relied
on what was left in his water skin and sipped it sparingly. The hard tack was as
leathery as ever. He had never asked what it was made from, perhaps it was as well,
the answer might have been unattractive.
He held off his feeling of exhaustion for a while, before curling up in the
Kous. The heat and the hovering star they called a sun, created a feeling of unreality,
like the mirages which came and went and sometimes obscured the pinnacles of his
destination. This wasn't reality, neither was the race who inhabited Jubal, he still
found it hard to come to grips with a race who reputedly lived for twenty thousand
years. Yet, it was so and he had to get used to the idea that the universe wasn't
necessarily populated by sentient beings who looked like Homo sapiens or who had
his life span. So far, he had been lucky, he had found races who bore some of the
characteristics of man - it wasn't necessarily going to continue when he left Jubal.
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He confronted the thought that his mind was already moving on away from
Jubal, to the planet the Masters of Psi had designated as his next destination.
CHAPTER 18
Sleep eluded him, the thought of the alienness of the people amongst whom he
had lived, was crowding his mind. Perhaps, it was being apart from them for the first
time, he finally allowed mental images to come forward and be considered. If he had
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been with Hammadi, instead of alone on the vast plain, they would have been engaged
in separate functions. Kane would have been trying to go to sleep, whilst Hammadi
would have been seeking 'rest'. He thought about 'rest'. It was nothing like sleep, when
they rested, their brains hardly slowed down, perhaps, certain centres became
dormant, as if they were in a trance. Doctors on New Earth would be fascinated. He
visualised Hammadi wired up to all sorts of sensors as they probed for answers. He
grinned at the potential reaction.
Their so-called rest was enough for their bodies to be repaired and stabilised
for another burst of activity. He wondered if they had always been like that on their
home world. If so, what sort of home world was it, that could produce a race who only
needed to sleep once in a thousand years - and then, be awake for another thousand?
In human terms, it could be described as a form of hibernation - a kind of natural
deep-freeze, self induced. Their bodies would hardly be alive for a thousand years.
Man had meddled with it -the cryogenic processes which were supposed to allow men
to move between the stars and awaken barely older in physical years. Cryogenics was
not an exact art, there had been reports and lurid stories of accidents and the obscene
results.
His thoughts were unsettling. Could two people with such wildly differing
life-cycles - such as Ajanta and himself - produce a child who carried the
characteristics of only one parent? Geneticists would say it was impossible and point
to the difficulty in crossing two of earth's species. The higher in the evolutionary
order, the greater the difficulty. Where did that leave Hauptmeier and his hypothesis?
His four colonising strains of Old Earth, might have been incompatible when it came
to interbreeding. If so, the journey of one, Kane Ashford through space and time, to
search out the representatives of the four strains, was totally pointless.
He gave up trying to sleep and resumed his journey towards the mirage shapes
of the Crag Caverns, feeling deflated and purposeless. What business had he in trying
to force people to cooperate, when they were convinced they had good reason to war
against each other? He wondered what Urartu would have to say on the subject. He
hoped the Master of Dreams would hold the key to the next piece of the puzzle.
There was less activity in the fields around the volcanic plug than he expected.
No one bothered to raise their heads to great him as he made his way over the shallow
lip of the crater. Near the base of the pinnacles, a few workers raised their hands halfheartedly,
but that was the extent of the welcome. He dismounted and immediately
unlashed the Bole. The Picun were led away by undemonstrative handlers. Of Nijah,
there was no sign.
He was led down the passages and rock stairs to the chambers he had occupied
on the last occasion, by an uncommunicative stranger. Once again, Nijah failed to
make an appearance. At least, despite his predisposition to appear with wringing
hands and overdone reverence, it would have been a familiar face.
Kane looked around appreciatively, it was good to be in the cool of the
caverns. He dropped his Kous to the floor without hesitation and stood naked in the
cool air, it was wonderful to feel the damp freshness on his body. He directed the Bole
to take up a strategic position against one wall. The next stop, was the bath chamber
and a general restoration of his sartorial elegance. On his return, food had been placed
on the table by an anonymous visitor. There was still no sign of Nijah. He murmured
to the Bole.
"If I don't see a friendly face soon, I'll start to feel unwelcome."
He wandered over to the entrance, there was no one in sight in the outer
passage. The place seemed deserted, he began to get an uneasy feeling, something
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wasn't as it ought to have been. He couldn't put a finger on it, but he was beginning to
get the sensation of having walked into a trap. If that was the case, there was only one
setter of traps he could think of, and that was Eridos.
He was ignored for the remainder of the day. He placed the Bole on maximum
alert before settling down to try to sleep. If anyone tried anything dramatic, like
putting a sword to his throat, the Bole would unleash devastating retaliation. It was
hard to tell how long he slept, before the Bole trilled his alarm signal. Kane hit the
floor in a reflex action and awaited events. Nothing happened.
"Explain!"
"Sensory indication of an intruder at the entrance."
Kane hesitated and looked at the Bole. If you have a dog, why wag your own
tail?
"Investigate."
The Bole drew itself up to its full height - which was menacing enough to give
the unsuspecting visitor a coronary - and advanced to the entrance like a metallic
spider. There was a wail of fear from beyond the entrance; it was the desired effect,
Kane relaxed a little.
"Cause no injury."
It was fortunate that the Bole didn't have that intention, the injunction would
have been too late.
A very white-faced individual preceded the Bole into the room. In reality, he
didn't have much choice, the Bole was clasping him very tightly around the left wrist
with one of its mandibles. The newcomer was wearing a black cloak. He looked very
young, which didn't count for much on Jubal. He was trying to look brave, which was
commendable under the circumstances.
"Let him go. Stand ready to blast him to hell if he makes the wrong move!"
The young man looked suitably impressed.
"Who are you - and why are you creeping around outside my quarters?"
He drew himself upright, his colour was starting to return.
"I am Nuraghe - I didn't know the quarters were occupied."
"Nuraghe I believe - the other I don't!"
He fingered the Pentacle suspended from his throat. Nuraghe's eyes widened.
"I am Quetzal. You have been sent by Eridos and now you have found me.
How many did he send, Nuraghe? What did he have in mind - to kill me, perhaps?
No! He would want to do that himself! You will not need for an army to escort
Quetzal to Eridos! I seek him. Why should it be otherwise?"
He dropped to one knee, which was a considerable improvement on his
previous manners.
"We are six, Lord Quetzal. The Tepe Eridos was concerned for your safety and
sent us as an escort!"
Kane smiled slightly, he didn't believe him and Nuraghe knew it. He let the
matter rest, there was no point in bullying the messenger. Eridos was the one with
whom he had to deal. He felt a pulse of excitement, he was getting closer to his
elusive Companion of the Image.
"Look closely at the likeness in the Pentacle, Nuraghe. Now, tell me why I
should want to avoid my brother Eridos?"
Nuraghe lost his colour again and swallowed.
"Did you see the Ship rise? I caused that to happen. I unlocked the secret
which Siyulk placed on the Ship."
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Kane hammered home the point of his invincibility. Nuraghe looked suitably
cowed.
"Get up, Nuraghe - you have nothing to fear. Have you eaten?"
"No, Lord."
"Where are your men - waiting outside?"
"No, Lord. I sent them out to - escort you."
Kane smiled.
"I must have slipped by them - now eat."
Kane pulled on a tunic and eyed him critically as he munched the remainder of
the meal.
"Tell me, where is Nijah?"
He stopped chewing.
"Why does my Lord want Nijah?"
Kane fingered the pendant before he answered. Nuraghe looked as if he
wished he hadn't asked the question.
"Nijah served me well on my last visit. I want to see him again."
"That isn't possible - He's dead!"
Kane drew a deep breath and asked gently.
"How did he die?"
"He resisted - One of the others ran him through with a sword!"
Kane glared in fury, he felt the anger of Quetzal rising within him and
desperately tried to keep command. Nuraghe would be of no use to him dead.
"Is that the way of Eridos? If a man stands in your way - an old greybeard -
you thrust a sword through him? An old man, who dared to protest and tried to protect
this place of sanctuary from a bunch of young hoodlums!"
The young black cloak flushed and dropped his hand to his sword. He
hesitated and didn't draw. Kane glared until he took his hand away.
"That's better! Very sensible! Be sure of one thing, Nuraghe. I do not need my
machine to kill you. I can think of your death - and you will die!"
It was news to both of them, it seemed that Quetzal had powers in reserve.
"Take me to Urartu. I warn you! If you've harmed him, I will fry your brains
until they burst out of your ears and eyes!"
Nuraghe swallowed, he was scared enough. One more threat and he would
need clean underwear. He led the way through the complexity of passages to the
lower levels. Kane was forced to leave the Bole behind, it was unavoidable, the
passages were too convoluted for it to handle with ease. He didn't feel insecure,
Nuraghe was suitably cowed.
The Cave of the Wraiths was even more shrouded in vapour than on the
previous visits. Nuraghe hesitated at the entrance. There was something close to fear
on his face. If it wasn't fear, it was certainly awe. Kane prodded him to enter, which
he did with obvious reluctance. He was persistent, he had no intention of leaving the
young black cloak to his own devices. Urartu's voice drifted through the steam.
"Enter, Quetzal."
He pushed Nuraghe in the direction of the voice and emerged into the heated
area around the brazier. Urartu was reclining on his usual pile of hides. Kane
wondered if he ever left the chamber. He supposed it was necessary, if only to satisfy
the call of nature. Urartu cackled to himself -Kane's thoughts amused him.
"So - you have brought to me the young man who watched the killing of
Nijah."
Nuraghe sank to him knees, he looked resigned to his execution.
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"Get up, boy! Will the taking of your life restore the life of Nijah? I see that
you are not yet two days old. Would I take your life in exchange for one who had
lived nearly seven days?"
They were questions which did not require an answer. Urartu turned to Kane.
"Welcome again, Tepe Quetzal."
Kane waited the pause which etiquette demanded.
"I greet you, Master of Dreams."
They sat on the indicated mound of hides. Kane waited for Urartu to continue.
"You have accomplished much, Tepe Quetzal. I saw the great Ship rise. To
answer your thought, I rarely leave the Cave of the Wraiths. I saw the Ship rise as the
vapours parted. I saw you visit the Night and the Coldness. I saw what few others
have seen. I saw the approaching Dwarf. I saw the Blackness and the Emptiness. I
saw what my father saw. You gave me much pleasure - for this, I thank you."
Kane cleared his throat and answered a little too soon.
"Urartu will see it all again, when the Ship rises from Jubal for the last time,
with all the people of the Gens."
He shook his head.
"Urartu is not destined to see that, Tepe Quetzal. I will remain in the Cave of
the Wraiths, until the ground bursts under my feet and the consuming fire from below
pours the melting rocks over me. I am not destined to leave the Cave of the Wraiths!
Now, Lord Quetzal, it is time for you to express your desire."
He waited for Kane to come to grips with his declaration. Kane pulled himself
together. What was his reason for coming to the Cave of the Wraiths? He was torn
between two desires. He desperately wanted to know the next steps in his quest for
Eridos - but he wanted something else - something to resolve the unrest which the
aberration with Ajanta had roused. He longed for Maia, he longed to know how it was
with her. Ajanta had been an expression of his self-willed sensuality. He started to say
something to Urartu, but the scene within the heart of the brazier started to change.
Its dull glow flared into brightness. The mist around it swirled into shapes,
indistinct at first and then, they sharpened into trees and rolling land. He heard
Nuraghe gasp, he was sharing in something he couldn't imagine. The Thanehold of
Lyot shimmered into reality. Kane was moving along a path which led from the fields
of oil crop towards the elevated terrace which surrounded the main building. He took
the path which led to the window entrance to the quarters he had shared with Maia.
His heart began to thump as he stepped into the cool of the stone walls.
A child ran towards him and stopped when he was confronted by the stranger.
He was about five or six and very dark. Kane turned, he heard her voice call the
child's name; she had called him - Krin. She was coming, he could hear her footsteps
on the stone flags. She stopped abruptly when she saw him and her hand went to her
mouth. She ran forward and into his arms. She was no intangible wraith conjured up
by Urartu. She was real and warm in his arms. They kissed hungrily and long. She
cried against his shoulder and he clung to her. He looked over her shoulder at his son,
he was a dark junior image of himself. The picture began to shimmer, like a badly
controlled holocast. Kane tried desperately to hold on to it, but it shivered into
nothingness and he was left to stare into the dull embers of the brazier. He knew there
were tears on his cheeks, but he didn't care who saw them.
"That is all, my Lord Quetzal."
Kane looked at the old man and saw compassion in his eyes.
"Have you nothing to tell me about my future, Urartu?"
He shook his head.
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"Your future is governed by your Masters. It is from them that you will learn
your destiny. For me, it is not permitted that I should know. We will not meet again,
Kane Ashford, who is Quetzal of his Flock. Our ways now lie apart - go in peace, my
friend."
Kane pleaded with him.
"Urartu - you must leave Jubal on the Ship. If you stay, it will be impossible
for you to survive - you must know that. Your people need you!"
Urartu smiled and shook his head.
"Can you alter your destiny, Master of the Images? How then can I alter
mine?"
"If I could only be sure about my destiny."
His eyes widened.
"You are still in ignorance after all this time? Quetzal knows, it is Kane
Ashford who seeks to turn aside. You are the Focus of the Images. You will draw to
yourself four who are your Companions of the Image. When your number is
complete, you will be used to fulfil the purposes of the Masters of Psi!"
The mist drifted between them, it was time to leave. Kane stuttered an
inadequate farewell, and stumbled through the mist shrouded floor to the entrance. As
always, there were so many things he could have asked - he nearly turned back but he
realised the futility. Urartu would not answer and they were not destined to meet
again. Nuraghe followed him in dazed silence, his ears had been opened to
unimaginable things and he was suddenly frightened of the man he had been told to
find.
There was nothing more to keep them at the Crag Caverns. Kane was faced
with the task of breaking in his new companion and those who were out on patrol. On
the way back from the Cave of the Wraiths and with the alternative purpose of getting
Nuraghe's mind off of what he had heard, he explained his need to - rest. The use of
'rest' was easier than trying to explain the differences in their concept of 'sleep'. His
explanation was broken off as they entered his quarters. They were confronted with
five groaning bodies, they were heavily singed and very much the worse for wear. The
Bole stood militantly in the middle of the room, which looked as if it had been
through a cyclone.
"Five intruders have been subdued."
If the Bole had learned anything from its association with Kane, it was that it
paid to get its version of the story in first, before anyone else muddied the waters with
a variation.
"I have got eyes! My God! You really let fly when you get going. A simple
warning would have been sufficient."
"Your instructions were to safeguard your integrity."
"You know as well as I do that I never give concise instructions. Learn to use
your discretion."
"I did."
"Then, God help us!"
He set about trying to pick up the walking wounded and got roundly worn at
for his pains. Nuraghe stood immobile in the face of threatened annihilation. Kane
told the Bole to retreat to the wall, it complied. It looked like a delinquent schoolboy
with the sulks.
"Give a hand, Nuraghe - it won't bite."
They propped the five men against one of the walls and eyed the scorch
marks.
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"Do you have some of that ointment you use for sore spots? Hammadi gave
me some when I chaffed my crotch sore on the Picun."
One of the five warriors still had a little steam left in him. He reared up when
he heard the name of his hated enemy. Kane thrust him down roughly and he swore
like a trooper - which wasn't surprising, since he probably was one.
"Watch it my friend. If you think the Bole can do you damage, you haven't
seen me in action!"
Nuraghe made a hasty introduction.
"This is the Lord Quetzal. He wishes to meet the Tepe Eridos. He carries the
image of the Tepe Eridos."
His explanation was intended to explain everything, it didn't, but they reserved
judgement. Kane and Nuraghe spent a sticky half hour anointing wounds with a
supply of the ointment. The place smelt like a Picun corral by the time they had
finished. The five wounded still glowered suspiciously, particularly in the direction of
the Bole. Kane took a chance and left them together with Nuraghe. It wasn't much of
a chance, the Bole would record the conversation and take appropriate action if it
became a conspiracy.
He wandered to the upper level and stepped out into the bare area of rock
surrounding the pinnacles. He looked out across the expanse of crops to the distant,
low profile of the crater lip. The red star had a great flare out to one side. It was still
gaseous and tenuous but it was much greater than before. The harbinger of the Dwarf.
He was rather pleased with the poetic thought. He wondered if he ought to leave the
six men alone for too long, he was reassured by the thought of his super spy.
He worked his way around the base of the pinnacles to the far side where they
kept the Picun. A few of the locals moved slowly in the torrid heat. They ignored him,
enveloped in their flowing Kous, with their hood drawn down over their faces. The air
was like a blast furnace and heavy with the stench of the Picun. It wasn't a pleasant
place to be, but at least, it was out of the direct light of the red sun. He stood in the
shadows, conscious of the sweat trickling down his body under the Kous. He retreated
from the heat and found the entrance down into the coolness.
The flares flickered on the smooth stone surfaces of the passages and stairs.
Everything was still, except for the slap of his sandals on the cool floor. He stopped
abruptly. That was it! That was what had impressed on his subconscious since he had
arrived. Everything was still! Not only the caverns, but the whole planet. The
shuddering and quaking had subsided. It was as if Jubal was storing itself up for some
titanic outburst. It was gathering itself for the last, final, gut-tearing convulsion. When
that happened, it would burst open like a gathered boil and spew its guts over tens of
millions of cubic kilometres of space!
He re-entered his chamber cautiously. The Bole didn't clamour an alarm. He
looked into the faces of his six visitors. They were reclining on whatever they could
find and the place smelt worse than before. They returned his gaze solemnly, the
hostility had subsided.
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CHAPTER 19
Kane removed his Kous carefully and folded it neatly, it was in sharp contrast
to the black cloaks which were strewn around the room. It looked like the dormitory
of a untidy barracks. Kane sat on the corner of the table and smiled encouragingly. It
didn't have the desired effect, they looked a little unnerved.
"So, gentlemen! I hope you're comfortable and your wounds aren't giving too
much trouble."
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One of them was obviously worried. He gestured to the Bole.
"That bloody thing nearly scorched my balls off!"
"You'll survive. She'll still love you. I advise as much exercise as possible!"
There was a ripple of laughter. The wary look began to subside.
"I'm going to take a rest. After which, I am going to allow you to escort me to
the Tepe Eridos - subject to your wounds being healed. I want to meet him as soon as
possible, but if you have to rest up, I won't tell him you found me when you did,
which will give us a few extra days."
Kane made it sound like a conspiracy. They eyed him carefully, like all good
soldiers everywhere, they weren't about to take a superior officer on face value. Kane
tried to look innocent and concentrated on the ceiling. There was a soft laugh from
one, who must have been the Jubal equivalent of a barrack room lawyer.
"Done, my Lord!"
It was a mutual agreement. One of the least impaired went off to purloin some
food. He brought back enough to feed a small army. Kane didn't enquire about the
methods he might have used to get it. The atmosphere thawed between them over the
next three waking periods. None of the local population put in an appearance. Kane's
one concern that Hammadi, Dagh and Motya might have disobeyed his orders and had
followed him at a distance and that might have blundered into a trap, failed to
eventuate. Urartu remained in the depths of the caverns - there was no further
communication from him. Kane hadn't expected any, the old man had closed the door
firmly and it would have been unlikely that he would have reopened it.
After the three sleep periods, the troopers pronounced themselves ready to
travel. Before they left the caverns, the question of grey versus black had to be
resolved. Nuraghe broached the subject with a show of nervousness.
"My Lord Quetzal will understand that the nearer we come to the
Encampment of Eridos, the more dangerous it is to wear a grey cloak."
"How many of my rest periods is it to your Encampment?"
"About ten, Lord Quetzal."
"If I agree to wear a black cloak, what will happen if we meet some of Obeid's
men?"
"They will try to kill us, Lord."
"That's a comforting thought!"
"If you continue to wear grey, then some of Eridos' men might try to kill you."
"Even with you as an escort?"
"Our brothers of the black cloak are very hasty sometimes."
"As Nijah could bear witness if he was still alive!"
Despite his misgivings, when they left the Crag Caverns, Kane consented to
wearing the black cloak he was offered. It was somehow symbolic, it marked the
ultimate break from Obeid and Ajanta - and from Hammadi.
They left the pinnacles behind them and set a course practically into the face
of the flaring red star. Its prominences were becoming more pronounced. It was a
spectacular display and it was in front of their eyes all the time, a constant reminder
that time was running out.
Kane wore the Pentacle outside of the Kous. It was another sort of reminder,
this time, to his escort, that he was Quetzal and possessed a power which could
shrivel their eyes in their sockets. The Bole had been loaded to the back of a docile
Picun. It was still activated - again it was a reminder that any funny business would be
met with retaliation. They were soldiers enough to respect his precautions and to
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acknowledge that a commander always had his resources available, no matter what
the circumstances might appear on the surface.
Nuraghe was the most friendly of the bunch. He hadn't suffered any injuries at
the hands of the Bole - other than hurt pride. The others kept their distance, soldiers
remaining aloof from the officer class into which they had placed him.
They made ten sleeps before they came in sight of the ocean. The coast was
elevated at that point and they could look out over its sullen blackness. Kane scanned
the shoreline for the Arch, but it wasn't visible.
Nuraghe pointed and shaded his eyes against the direct glare of the red star.
Kane followed his finger. In the far distance was a disturbance close to the shoreline.
It was like a great duststorm, similar to that which he had seen gather so often on
Mars. He knew it was something different, he had seen it before when he had neared
the Encampment of Obeid. It was the Picun of Eridos' herd. They were being driven
in front of the moving Encampment of his brother of the Image. He had obeyed, he
was working his way along the way of the ocean towards the Great Arch.
They increased the pace, it was already time for another sleep, but Kane knew
it would not be on the open desert. His escort moved into a tighter formation. It was a
visible sign that he was considered a prisoner, no matter how much he might insist
that he wanted to meet with Eridos. At least, he wasn't being brought into camp,
trussed up like a slaughtered Picun. He let them have their way, they had been sent out
to capture him and it wouldn't do their image much good if they appeared to be too
casual. They skirted the herd so as to avoid their dust and stink. Singly, the Picun
smelled bad enough, but collectively, they were as bad as a sewer. They were being
driven some way in front of the camp. There were fewer herdsmen in control,
although Kane didn't claim to be an expert.
Eridos had established his camp where a river entered the ocean. He kept the
herd moving almost constantly and then, he moved the camp when the distance
between got to be a little more than was prudent. The Picun were the wealth of the
tribe and were the difference between survival and a slow death from starvation. You
didn't allow your only asset to get too far out of your sight, not unless you had a death
wish.
There was little to distinguish the two encampments, apart from the
predominance of the black cloak. Kane acknowledged the wisdom of changing from
the grey. He would have been as conspicuous as a spare bride at a wedding. Nuraghe
led the way to Eridos' tent, he said nothing. The tent was as big as Obeid's and
occupied the central position. Kane wasn't treated to the same greeting. No crowd, no
boisterous dragging to the ground - nothing!
He dismounted slowly - casually. He left the Bole strapped to the Picun, after
ensuring that the animal couldn't stray more than a few paces. It complained
plaintively, probably, it could smell its mate. He didn't have time to feel sorry for it.
It was clear that Eridos had no intention of coming out of his tent. It defied all
the laws of hospitality, but the visitor was required to enter without invitation or
escort. Nuraghe looked uncomfortable. The circumstances were not going to improve
by broiling in the heat. Kane lifted the tent flap and waited for a reaction - there was
none. He stooped and entered and allowed the flap to fall behind him.
He was confronted by a tall, cloaked man, who stood and watched him enter.
Eridos faced him in silence, Kane stared back, determined that he was not going to be
the first to speak. He held down the anger of the inner man, he could feel it rising, but
nothing was going to be resolved by an outburst of rage. The stand-off could have
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continued indefinitely, but Eridos elected to break the silence. Surprisingly, his tone
was pleasant enough, almost mild.
"Greetings, my Lord Quetzal. We parted in anger, I hope we meet in peace!"
Kane was wary, the gesture of conciliation was atypical. He forced himself to
relax.
"I have no memory of our parting, Eridos. If it is your desire that we should
meet in peace, it is also mine."
Eridos eyed him without smiling.
"So - it true. I had heard that you do not remember."
"It's a long story."
"We have plenty of time."
"Less than you might think."
"I have heard your dire predictions caused great turmoil in the Encampment of
Obeid."
"News travels fast."
"Faster than you, it would seem, Lord Quetzal."
Eridos' face cracked into a thin, humourless smile. Kane shrugged.
"My need for rest periods is well known."
"It was always a source of amusement for us when you graced us with your
presence two days ago."
"I am always glad to create enjoyment."
The smile broadened.
"I have heard that Obeid suffered some discomfort from your last session of -
entertainment. I understand that the pain has gone, but he has a very anti-social itch."
The vision of Obeid desperately trying not to scratch himself, brought a
responsive smile to Kane's mouth. Eridos watched him silently.
"What could have provoked Obeid to such a rage that he would try to put his
brother of the cloak into chains? Was he annoyed that you dared to fly the Ship?
Perhaps, he didn't like your growing familiarity with Hammadi - or with Ajanta?"
Kane stared back at him, the smiles were gone.
"Neither Hammadi nor Ajanta need the protection of Obeid. As for the Ship, it
was not Tursac who barred the people of the Ship from entry. Siyulk, your father was
extremely clever, but he didn't reckon with the Masters of Psi and our collective
wisdom and power! Obeid was enraged for another reason."
As a guest, he should have been offered hospitality, but that had not been
forthcoming. He should have been invited to drop the Kous and replace it with a tunic
provided by the host - this practice had not been followed. The interview with Eridos
had been conducted standing, like two warriors sizing up each other before combat. It
was time to take the initiative. Kane undid the tie of the Kous and allowed it to drop
to the floor. He stood naked before Eridos, clad only in the Pentacle which gleamed in
the red filtered light. Eridos didn't move a muscle.
"You asked the reason for Obeid's rage. Look into the mirror, Eridos!"
He held up the Pentacle so that the light could shine through its transparency.
Eridos slowly reached out his hand and took it. He stared at the image glowing in the
red light. The muscles of his jaw tightened and then relaxed.
"So, this was the cause of my cousin's rage?"
"Isn't it enough?"
Eridos turned away and picked up a tunic from a side table, he tossed it to
Kane, who slipped it over his head. Eridos watched him silently. Kane returned his
gaze calmly.
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"As always, full of little surprises, Kane Ashford. Tell me, where did you find
an artisan who could fashion such a perfect likeness - don't answer! The Masters of
Psi are all powerful and have unlimited resources. Isn't that the answer?"
"So, you agree that it is your image?"
He turned away, gestured to a pile of hides and then sat himself.
"It would be pointless to deny it."
"Would you believe me if I told you the story of where it was found?"
"Probably not! You and your fellow masters are devious bastards! Who, in
their right mind, would believe anything you had to say?"
Kane relaxed back on the hides and smiled.
"Perhaps, it is better if you believe what we're able to do - like unlocking the
Ship your father sealed and then taking a ride through space to visit the Dwarf. Or
perhaps, listening to the Ship's computer which told us that this planet will be blown
apart when the Dwarf comes again. Or then again, scorching Obeid in the balls, so
that he now has an uncontrollable itch!"
Eridos nodded without smiling.
"An impressive litany of victories - You mentioned 'us', when the computer
predicted our annihilation. Who was with you?"
"I would have thought your bearer of tiding - he who travels faster than
Quetzal - would have told you. My son, Hammadi showed me the Ship - and flew it!"
The eyes gave away nothing but Kane sensed the information had hit home -
Particularly, the reference to his son.
"And when is this dire prediction to be fulfilled?"
"In about ninety of my active periods."
"And Quetzal has come to rescue his flock."
"I have instructed the Ship's computer to enlarge the Ship to take ten to the
fourth power passengers and crew."
"Half that number is all that is necessary."
"For your side of the Division perhaps. The Ship will take all who live on
Jubal - together with one thousand of your best breeding stock. The time of Division
and Enmity must end. I thought I made myself clear, Eridos!"
He nodded slowly.
"And what does my dear cousin, Obeid, think of your - instruction?"
"You will either do it and live - or you will die!"
Eridos laughed softly.
"Not great options, my Lord of Psi! The Enmity of four days cannot be ended
in a heartbeat. The Division goes deep and will take generations to resolve. It will not
be a question of living or dying. It will be a fact that we will either die here on Jubal,
or we will die in space. The Division will ensure that, for one side or the other will
seek to control the Ship and the other will resist to the death!"
They stared at each other in silence. Eridos was dressed in a plain black tunic.
It suited his dark looks. He was by no means handsome, but he was a striking man.
Physically, he looked very strong and he had already proved his mental strength.
Kane's looked into his deep blue eyes, it was a feature the image of the Pentacle
couldn't depict. It was like looking into his own eyes in the mirror and did nothing to
negate Obeid's claim that Hammadi was Eridos' son. The gaze was returned, perhaps,
he sensed the turmoil and the questions.
He must have given a signal, the tent flap was thrust open and those who had
been waiting outside, entered with refreshments. There was none of the fire water
provided by Obeid - perhaps that had also been reported by the spy or spies. Neither
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was there an assembly of the elders of the tribe. It was a feast for two - but not two
friends, that would have been too much to expect.
To Kane's surprise, he found himself beginning to mellow towards him. He
should have hated him but he was finding it hard. There was no conscious history
upon which to base a hatred - at least, not on his part.
"I moved my Encampment towards the Arch - "
Eridos shrugged.
"I don't know why, but I chose to humour you. My men told me about the
Pentacle - let us say, I was intrigued and it was time to move the herd anyway, we
were running out of Schwarm."
"Hammadi moves his Encampment there too."
He looked up and stared.
"My spies tell me that you have deposed Obeid and put Hammadi in charge -
is that true?"
"Yes."
He laughed softly.
"It would have been a scene to enjoy! Tell me, how did my dear cousin react?"
"Predictably."
"He roared like a wounded bull Picun and swore that he was still in command
and that Hammadi would obey him."
"You know your cousin very well, Eridos."
He turned and the smile was gone.
"I would have done the same - nothing less - and will do so, if someone tries
the same tactics here."
"The only one to try the same tactics here, is me! But then, you have shown
yourself much more amenable than Obeid."
"Perhaps I have a greater understanding of the powers of the Masters of Psi,
Kane Ashford. Did you realise that the Great Arch is the boundary of the Division,
and has been so for a day?"
"I told you, I remember nothing of former times, Eridos."
He met his host's penetrating stare.
"Tell me, Quetzal - how is the lovely Tene Ajanta?"
Kane stared restlessly.
"When we parted, quite well. She didn't send her love!"
Eridos lounged back on his bed of hides.
"It would have been most improper if she had. You say you don't remember,
but I remember how close you were, four thousand of your years ago. You see, I can
still remember your peculiar numbering system!"
Kane allowed a grudging admiration, he could see why Obeid detested him.
He was beginning to sound more devious than a snake. He changed tactics, perhaps he
was getting tired of the game of cat and mouse."
"You have had a long journey - and I also remember your strange habit of
resting frequently. I have arranged accommodation for you. You must handle your
strange box yourself, for some reason my men are reluctant to do so. You must show
me its tricks sometime."
One of the attendants lifted the tent flap on cue. Kane rose, bowed slightly and
followed him. The Picun with the Bole stood grunting a complaint. Kane unloaded the
animal, with the attendant standing with folded arms at what he considered to be a
safe distance - little did he know that the Bole could focus on a speck of dust at a
hundred paces. Once settled in the tent, Kane gave instructions for strict surveillance.
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His legs were sagging with weariness, he collapsed on to his bedding and
succumbed to exhaustion. He was confident that he wouldn't be disturbed. The Bole
was the ultimate deterrent and its reputation had preceded it. Kane discovered on the
next day, that Nuraghe was the only one who had the courage to approach him. He
appeared with breakfast, at the precise moment when Kane thought he had been
forgotten.
"Intruder approaching, prepared for action."
"Be quiet, you bloody fool! Unless you want me to starve to death!"
Nuraghe poked a wary head into the tent and eyed the Bole speculatively.
Kane beckoned him in.
"My Lord Eridos has instructed me to care for you."
"Thank my Lord Eridos for his generosity."
It sounded a contradiction in terms. In all likelihood, Eridos wanted to keep a
close eye on him. Nuraghe was informative.
"In one more of your sleeps, we must break camp. The herd is already far
ahead of us and it is time to move closer. One can never tell if Obeid's Shartas will
attack the try to steal them! The Lord Eridos is going to give a great feast - in
celebration of the high honour of your visit! He has said that it has the purpose of
recognising the coming of such a distinguished visitor from the High Lords of Psi!
Kane could almost hear the lacing of sarcasm Eridos would have infused into
his comment.
"He is most generous when he honours Quetzal and the Masters of Psi."
Nuraghe's eyes were wide with interest.
"We know so little of the Masters. We never speak of them! Will you show
them to us?"
"It isn't possible, Nuraghe. They are unknowable except when it is their will to
manifest themselves - in the way that I now manifest myself!"
His eyes dropped.
"Of course, Lord Quetzal - I should not have asked."
"You are always permitted to ask, Nuraghe - but you will not always be
answered. I will tell you this. The Masters of Psi do not have a physical form, that is
why it is not possible for me to show them to you. Under normal circumstances, they
have no need to reveal themselves in a finite shape, but occasionally, when it fits their
purpose, they take the body of a man and merge together with him. This they have
done in my person. I am Kane Ashford, I was born on the planet Mars and have lived
the life of a man. I am also Quetzal, who is one with the Masters and who has entered
into the physical form of Kane Ashford. Sometimes I am a weak human being, at
other times I manifest the power and authority of those who must be obeyed. Tell this
to Eridos and let him know that he has need to be cautious!"
Nuraghe's eyes were like saucers. He licked his lips nervously. He nodded and
made a hasty exit from the tent. Quetzal smiled and subsided back into his inner
resting place. Eridos would be cautious, or he would suffer the consequences.
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CHAPTER 20
Nuraghe enthused about what was to come.
"It's going to be a great feast. The cooking has already started. There'll be
music and dancing and some of the boys will be showing off their tricks."
Kane was left to imagine what that might imply, it added to the anticipation.
Nuraghe took to his new commission as unpaid lackey with enthusiasm. He bustled
around the tent with unnerving vivacity. He put everything in military style order and
Kane became nervous about getting anything from his travel bundle. It went without
saying that Nuraghe avoided contact with the Bole, especially after he accidentally
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brushed against the charged casing and received a jolt which threw him on to his
backside.
He swore luridly and it took Kane some time to pacify him. Thereafter, the
only time his face darkened was when he glared at the Bole. Fortunately, the Bole was
not equipped to reciprocate. Curiosity overcame Nuraghe's resentment when Kane
decided to denigrate its status from war machine to that of a valet, so that he might
look his best for the forthcoming event.
The music started. Nuraghe moved impatiently, it was a clear invitation. They
emerged from the tent and found the central area had been transformed into an arena.
Most of the tents had had their walls rolled up to the roof line, exposing the insides.
Awnings had been extended outward to shade part of the arena. The glare from the red
star was unrelenting. Kane glanced at it, the prominence of gas, out to one side,
seemed greater than before. He felt an intense gaze and turned to find Eridos staring at
him critically.
Groups of men and women reclined on piles of skins. Low tables had been set
up, forming a rough circle around the cleared area. On these, food had been piled in
great mounds. Nuraghe led the way across the centre of the arena towards Eridos. He
was already established in the centre of what Kane took to be his household. He had
favoured the black tunic rather than the Kous. The rest of his household were
shrouded in their black mantles. It made them look like roosting birds of prey. They
watched his coming silently, adding to the general impression of morbidly waiting for
him to drop dead.
"Greetings, Quetzal, Master of Psi. Welcome to our festivity."
There wasn't any great enthusiasm. Eridos' face cracked into a brief, guarded
smile, which didn't reach the eyes. The careful politeness suggested that there was an
iron fist in the soft glove. Kane bowed acknowledgement and took the offered seat.
He wasn't introduced to the silent ring of onlookers.
Four men were erecting a canopy, draped over rough poles which had been
scavenged from the Schwarm desert. When it was in place, four other cloaked figures
took their places on stools. Each carried something carefully. They started to pluck or
blow, according to its structure. It was hardly music which would hit the popularity
list on Mars or the Asteroids. It was plaintive, somehow reflecting the monotonous
desert landscape and the harshness of their existence.
Even the feasting was restrained, it was leisurely, almost elegant, even if it was
necessary to use the fingers and tear the flesh from the carcasses by brute force. Kane
was thankful that it didn't drip blood. He had been reared on the biological wonders
produced from algae tanks. It had been a major adjustment to get used to eating food
which had once roamed the plains of Lynxe and Jubal.
With it was a kind of sour bread, coarse and unrefined. He imagined that they
would have to snatch the seeds from wild growth before they moved the
Encampment. They were nomads and apart from those who farmed the crater around
the Crag Caverns, they didn't appear to have static communities.
Another group of figures moved into the cleared space. They were shrouded in
their Kous and it was impossible to tell whether they were male or female. They
began a slow, rhythmic movement. It was hypnotic after a while, unhurried but
precise. The red glare beat down on them, they must have been excessively hot, even
within the Kous. They moved in intricate patterns, weaving back and forth as if they
were stitching invisible tapestry. Little puffs of purple dust rose from their sandalled
feet. It was alien, barbaric and beautiful.
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There was a change in the light over the dancers, as they continued their
rhythmic shuffle. Kane looked up, his concentration broken. From the vast, bloated
star, an orange-red prominence guttered out, breaking the compact surface tension of
the star gas. The star quake must have been of titanic proportions, throwing out its
matter towards its hidden binary. The flare seemed to falter, the gravity of the red
giant drew it back into itself. It hesitated, the attraction of the white dwarf was almost
too much. Perhaps, even the red giant wouldn't survive the next encounter.
His attention was drawn back to the arena, the music had intensified. The
dancers had increased their pace, the pattern was becoming wilder, their Kous
billowed and whirled, giving glimpses of flashing limbs. The music pulsed to a
monotonous drone, it was no longer melodic - now it was a basic pulse of sound. The
onlookers responded, leaning forward as if to identify with the dancers. The climax
came suddenly, it was a sudden collapse to the ground. The music stopped in mid
pulse. There was utter silence.
Eridos stood and slowly walked out into the clearing. The dancers looked up at
him as he approached. He pulled them to their feet, one after the other and awarded
them with something he carried in the pouch of his tunic. Each saluted deeply, one
hand to the forehead, followed by an elaborate bow, before sauntering off though the
encircling crowd. Eridos returned to his place and sat down. He continued to look into
the arena as he said:
"The Dance of the Ancients is always rewarded by the Tepe. It has been so
since we left the Home World and will continue to be, long after we have left Jubal."
"I'm happy to hear you agree that you must leave Jubal, Eridos."
"How could it be otherwise? Haven't you and your fellow Masters ordered us
to do so?"
The mockery was not quite hidden under the implication of smooth
acceptance.
"Make no mistake, Eridos. If your people leave Jubal before the coming of the
Dwarf, or whether they refuse, will be their choice. I have given you the means - the
choice will be there's."
"You surprise me, Lord Quetzal. The Masters of Psi rarely leave anything to
choice."
"They have done so on this occasion - their prime interest is not the evacuation
of your people. I am here for another purpose - as I think you well know."
"Perhaps - How could I know your purpose? You are being very secretive."
"My purpose is as visible as the Pentacle I wear at my neck."
"Your words are as enigmatical as the image it contains."
"There is no mistaking whose image it is."
Eridos was silent for a moment.
"I only see a man of Jubal - who do you see?"
"You!"
"So, you see me! What is the implication?"
"You will understand when you accept that it is your image, Eridos!"
"Then, perhaps I do not choose to understand!"
They fell into silence, the central area was being cleared for the next item of
entertainment.
"Tell me about the Home World."
"We know nothing of the Home World, the Dance of the Ancients is a halfremembered
folk memory. Once there was a story associated with it, now, even that is
forgotten. All we remember is that before Jubal, there was the Ship."
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"The Ship must have started from somewhere."
"The Ship always was, as far as we can remember. First, when we started the
journey, we were with the Fleet, then the Fleet was scattered and we journeyed alone -
and then we came to Jubal."
"And the purpose of the journey was to seed the stars."
"A romantic notion, Quetzal. I am more pragmatic. We were either trying to
migrate from our world, or we were driven out to become space wanderers. The
original purpose is lost to us. Perhaps, you can tell us - after all, you are Quetzal, one
of the Masters of Psi. You are all knowing, you do not need me to teach you ancient
history!"
"Yes, I am Quetzal but I am also Kane Ashford - and Kane Ashford knows
nothing of your ancient history."
The musicians started once again. This time, the music was more lively. One
of them started to sing, then others around the circle of onlookers started to join in. As
far as he could tell, it was a ditty about the vicissitudes of a Picun herder's life. It was
more to the taste of the crowd, who had seemed subdued in the face of the ancient
dance. The pace of the party picked up and the fire water flowed more freely.
The scene was unreal, it was the sort of activity normally associated with a
campfire and the blackness of the night. It took place in the full glare of the fiery star.
It made Kane realise how much he appreciated the darkness. Man needed the night as
well as the day. The party was in full swing, when Eridos touched his arm.
"We must talk."
Kane followed him into the privacy of the tent. He had consumed a prudent
amount of fire water. He had learned his lesson from the evening he had spent with
Obeid. He wondered if Eridos had mellowed under its influence, it was a forlorn
hope. He adopted Kane's time scale.
"Tomorrow we move. We are five days from the Arch and my herd is still on
the move and can be no more than two days from it. My scouts report no sign of
Obeid and his herd. It would seem that your orders have been disobeyed. Hammadi is
no longer in control."
"Hammadi will keep control and he will move his herd."
He wished he felt as sure as he sounded. Obeid might have risen in fire and
flame from his sick bed and countermanded Hammadi's orders. On the other hand,
Hammadi himself might have had second thoughts.
"What do you intend, when we reach the Arch? I give you fair warning, you
are creating a scenario for disaster. One false move and I cannot be answerable for the
consequences. My men have hated the band of grey cloaks for longer than you can
imagine. I have told you already, there is no hope of healing the Division and the
Enmity.
We consider ourselves to be the ones unjustly treated. Tursac was a senile fool,
who placed the Ship in jeopardy when he landed against the advice of his officers -
and that included Siyulk, his own brother. Bringing the two herds together and the two
Encampments, will result in a blood bath. I will not be able to prevent it, neither will
Obeid, nor Hammadi - nor you, O great, omnipotent Lord Quetzal! I wonder - is that
your plan? Is it your intention to prune the people of the Ship, so that there is room for
those who are left?"
Kane stared at him and shook his head slowly.
"You still don't understand, do you Eridos? The Ship is capable of carrying
you all. You must know that. Siyulk would have told you as much as he could about
the Ship and its capabilities. Just as Tursac told Obeid and Obeid told Hammadi."
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Eridos' face twisted into a snarl, the mask dropped for a brief moment and
Kane was able to measure the degree of hatred it hid.
"You gave him no time to tell me anything! What I might have learned was
crushed out of him when you threw a boulder down on his head!"
Kane breathed slowly.
"From all accounts, he wasn't trying to have a friendly chat with me. I'm told
on good authority, that he wanted to separate a certain vital portion of my anatomy
from the rest!"
For a moment, Kane thought he was in for a fight. The studied calm had
evaporated.
"You stole Ajanta from me! She was mine - it was all arranged. The Division
and the Enmity was about to be healed in a bond of peace through the uniting of the
son of Siyulk with the daughter of Tursac - but then, you came! You, with your eye for
the women. How many, I wonder did you serve like a prize Picun before you set eyes
on Ajanta and decided to add her to your trophies?"
He was learning something new about a four thousand year old reputation. His
retort was feeble.
"It didn't give Siyulk the right to castrate me!"
Eridos regained his composure, he continued quietly.
"I had the last laugh though, didn't I, great Lord Quetzal? It was you who
wanted to cut of my balls when you found out! By then it was too late. Do you want
me to tell you what happened and jog that so conveniently absent memory? I give you
the details, I'm sure you'll enjoy the joke!
With your reputation, it was easy. Ajanta half-expected you to try to seduce
her before the formal ceremony. I came to her tent and she thought it was you. She
was ready for you, waiting - I said nothing as I lay beside her in the darkness. I
claimed what was rightfully mine before you had the chance to deflower her!"
Kane felt the anger rise like a sickness. He almost hit him in the sneering
mouth. If he had been totally Kane Ashford and not half Quetzal, he might have done
so. Eridos was half-smiling, waiting for the assault, waiting for the opportunity to
continue the battle which Siyulk had started four thousand years earlier. Kane forced a
smile.
"So - It is true. Hammadi is your son!"
The shock registered on his face. He must surely have wondered over those
long years. Kane's casual acceptance was unexpected. He said nothing, Kane kept the
initiative.
"Obeid mentioned something of the story before we parted. I congratulate you,
Eridos! Hammadi is a fine man. Ajanta is a great lady - I'm surprised you didn't try to
claim what was yours."
Eridos couldn't have known what it cost Kane to say what he did. It was
essential that he didn't know, or that Kane wanted to kill him for stealing his son.
Quetzal insisted on a peaceful solution and Kane Ashford obeyed. Eridos sat down
slowly and looked as if he had had the stuffing knocked out of him. After a while he
said softly:
"I curse you, Kane Ashford. I curse you for robbing me of my revenge. I have
waited for the day when you would come to Jubal once more. I knew you would come
- you told us all, before you disappeared into the Arch. I waited two long days and
nights, to throw this into your face. You've robbed me again, just as you robbed me of
Ajanta. You've won again. Tell me, if it doesn't matter to you, why were you so angry
four thousand years ago? Tell me that. Tell me why I had to flee for my life because of
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your threats? Why did we nearly end the Division then, in one last great battle? Why
did you kill my father?"
"I can't tell you, Eridos - I remember nothing. You must find the answers - and
acknowledge my reason for coming to Jubal now!"
Kane turned and walked back to his seat at the edge of the circle, Eridos didn't
follow immediately. There were many more questions which had to be answered, but
Kane wasn't ready for them. He was on full view to the assembled Gens, he schooled
himself to look relaxed and enjoying the entertainment. The festivity continued
interminably, it was supposed to be in his honour. Protocol demanded that he stayed to
the bitter end. In reality, he was longing to crawl into the privacy of his tent and
confront what Eridos had thrown in his face.
He didn't look round when Eridos rejoined the group. He didn't take his
original place. Kane could feel his eyes on his back, shrewd, bitter, calculating eyes
which made his skin prickle. There came the moment when the host clapped his
hands, it was the signal for the proceeding to come to a close. People melted away,
acknowledging that they had hard riding ahead of them. Kane looked round
eventually, he supposed he ought to thank Eridos for the entertainment, whilst there
was someone still there to witness it. Eridos was gone and the walls of his tent were
slowly dropping into place. Kane took the hint, the party was over, he walked slowly
to his own quarters.
He wasn't alone. Nuraghe had moved in and established himself in one corner,
as far removed from the Bole as possible. Kane had to exercise the previous restraint.
He would have liked to rave and curse and perhaps it would have made him feel better
if he had done so. He maintained the mask, nothing could be allowed to get carried
back to Eridos. It was now even more important that he kept him off balance and
maintain the edge.
He pretended he wanted to sleep, which put an end to Nuraghe's excited
chatter and enthusiasm about the entertainment. He closed his eyes and heard
Nuraghe eventually leave the tent. He was able to relax at last, but he refused to allow
his thoughts to dwell on Hammadi and Ajanta. The Pentacle was still suspended
around his neck. He examined it closely again, especially the image. Eridos leapt out
at him. The artist had captured him with astounding accuracy, not only the physical,
but the man himself. The eyes carried the same worldly-weary cynicism and
arrogance. They looked out with jaundiced eyes at what was around him. They saw
none of the better qualities but all of the worst.
The mouth and lips were drawn into a half-suppressed sneer. The posture was
defiant, almost provocative. He was a man spoiling for a fight. Kane relaxed back and
closed his eyes. He was no nearer to the answers the Pentacles posed. There could be
no doubt that he had found the second man, just as he had found the first on Lynxe.
That was another subject he didn't want to think about. Lynxe also meant Maia.
He had found the second of the four men, he who represented the second
strain mentioned by the Hauptmeier Hypothesis. The Aquiline man. First, the Feline
man - Danyk son of Lyot, now, the Aquiline man - Eridos son of Siyulk. Siyulk who
had died at the hands of Kane Ashford! Two remained - the Bovine and the Simian. If
he thought life was complicated now, it promised to be more so in the future.
The whole business had assumed galactic proportions. It came back to the
Masters of Psi. Eridos had described Quetzal, not as one of their servants, but as being
equal to them. The inner man stirred, he was listening - enjoying the mental turmoil.
Kane was beginning not to resent his presence. He had helped him out of a few
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situations which otherwise would have gone badly. He felt a surge of mocking
acknowledgement.
He fell asleep still clutching the Pentacle. He could have expected that it was
the appropriate time for him to go visiting. He found himself floating in the utter
vastness of intergalactic space. This was not simply the space between the stars. This
was something outside of his experience. He was far remote from the familiar orbital
paths and transits he had known in the Solar System.
Far distant from him were many tiny spiral galaxies. He knew that one of them
had to be his own - and yet, he was totally separated from it - utterly alone. He didn't
know how he knew which one, but he did. It might have been the nearest, he couldn't
judge - it wasn't important. He looked around him, trying to determine the purpose for
him being there. Everything was emptiness, excepting for one star which stood remote
from any other, isolated in the vastness. It was immense, powerful, pumping out a
blue-white incandescence. He should have been blinded but he wasn't. It was majestic
and defiant. An aberration which had resulted when the nearer galaxies had been
created. Somehow it had been isolated.
The scene changed and he was in utter darkness. Every pinpoint of light had
been extinguished. There was no sound, everything was at rest - no movement.
Nothing to excite the senses; stillness. A voice said mildly.
"Kane Ashford - this will be your punishment if you resist our will and
disobey!"
It was almost a whisper, but after the total stillness, it sounded like a thunder
clap. The voice continued.
"You are beyond the expanding edge of the universe. You are far more distant
than the star you saw earlier. Light from the galaxies has not reached this place yet,
nor will it do so, until the universe is a thousand million of your years older. Can you
doubt the power of the Masters of Psi? Can you doubt the power of Quetzal, who is
our brother? We have brought you here - can you defy us? Would you like to remain
with your thoughts for a thousand million years? With only your thoughts, longing
and waiting for the moment when you will see the first pinpoint of light to break your
darkness? Not knowing if we might not move you further away, because it is our will
to do so?"
The voice stopped and he was left for an eternity to consider the questions. At
the end of the eternity, the voice thundered again.
"That was a period of ten of your minutes. Consider the subject of obedience,
my servant."
The voice faded and they turned the screws by leaving him in the state of nonstimulation
of the senses, until he thought he would go mad. Abruptly, the great
fireball of the blue-white sun, seared his eyes. He wept with relief. He thanked them
abjectly. They gave no sign of hearing - but he was sure that they did.
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CHAPTER 21
He didn't awaken immediately, there was still more to come. He was turned
around to face the remoteness. The blue-white star faded from view. From the
direction of the distant spirals, a figure was moving towards him. He recognised him
as he drew near and Kane Ashford felt the panic rising as he saw that it was - himself!
Quetzal cocked his head to one side in a familiar gesture. His smile was
almost sympathetic.
"So, we meet face to face at last, Kane Ashford. The last time I saw you as a
separate entity, was when you hovered on the edge of my trap on Mars and decided to
enter to make the great discovery which was going to alter the concepts of the human
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race. I think you will agree, I couldn't allow you to do anything so drastic, now could
I?"
"I don't see why not, you seem to do what you like with whoever you like."
The smile lost some of its geniality.
"I suppose that is a protest about the way I'm using and abusing your priceless
body?"
"It's valueless to you - but you're right, its priceless to me."
"That could be construed as vanity! Not a very pleasant characteristic with
which to live!"
"You could always put me back where I belong and leave me in peace!"
"You belong with me, Kane Ashford! That is a situation which will never be
changed!"
Kane stared at him.
"Do you mean that I'll never be free of you?"
"Why the horror, my dear boy? We will learn to get on together. I'm learning
to enjoy your physical pleasures. You might say that I'm reliving something I had
almost forgotten."
"There's a name for that - it's called voyeurism!"
Quetzal threw back his head and laughed and then he grew serious.
"Much as I am enjoying this little chat, I am here for a more serious purpose.
Much is going to be demanded of you as my physical expression. My fellow Masters
have seen fit to show you the consequences of disobedience - an exercise with which I
fully concur, for you are a rebellious bastard! Nevertheless, you were chosen precisely
because you have a degree of stubbornness and tenacity which is useful to me.
We will soon return to Jubal. In five marches from your awakening, the Gens
Eridos will reach the Great Arch. You will regulate the people of the Ship according to
my inspiration - this will be a time of extreme danger. You will then attend to the
needs of Quetzal's Flock and in a further five days, you and my Companion of the
Image will lead them from Jubal. You will take your machine with you. Is that
understood?"
Kane didn't awaken immediately. He was allowed to sleep until Nuraghe
shook him awake.
"You'd better get dressed - unless you want to do it in the middle of the parade
ground. They're waiting to take down the tent."
Nuraghe hovered around impatiently, as Kane crawled out of his bed and tried
to dress and eat at the same time. The tent started to come apart around his ears. It was
a scene of utter confusion which somehow ended up with everything being packed in
good order and with nobody getting seared by the Bole, who had started to feel
menaced as soon as the guy ropes were released.
Kane stepped outside of what was left of his private quarters and eyed the
scene. The rest of the Encampment was tumbling down as if an earthquake had hit it.
Eridos was already on the move, his long line of personal household riding out with
him at the head. He made no acknowledgement to his guest. It was as well, Kane was
still not sure how he was going to handle a future conversation.
The pack animals were sent ahead to stumble about in their own dust. Nuraghe
showed commendable foresight and led the way to one side of the stream of late
starters and upwind of them. It kept the greater part of the dust cloud out of their eyes
and mouths. The wind was beginning to rise, it wasn't hot.
"Is it always cooler near the ocean?"
Nuraghe shook his head.
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"It's the coming of the Dwarf, the old ones tell us that the wind always rises
when the Companion draws close. Can't you feel how cold it is? We are the greatest
distance from our sun. This is the time when it's almost comfortable to pass through
the Place of Heat."
Kane felt an inner surge of apprehension. He was running out of time. He
remembered the encounter with Quetzal - he had five days before he reached the Arch
- and then five more, before he left Jubal. He had thought he still had eighty days - but
that was the prediction of the Ship's computer about when Jubal would be finally
destroyed. Within those eighty days, the planet would become untenable, it's
atmosphere and oceans would be sucked off long before the tidal surges within its
core, fractured the surface and tore it apart.
Even within five days, the ocean could rise and swamp the Arch. From a
logical point of view, it would have been better to seek the high ground. He looked
around for an answer to the obvious question. What higher ground? The Arch was the
designated venue for both of the Gens. It was also the venue to which he had directed
the Ship. He felt another stab of alarm. He had told the Ship's computer to rendezvous
in another eighty days! He had also instructed it to prepare to embark the people
before the planet was destroyed. He hoped it had enough sense to resolve the paradox
and an efficient Prime Directive, to ensure that it saved its human cargo before it was
too late.
There was something else. On Mars, he had found the first Pentacle which had
been instrumental in bringing him to Lynxe to find Danyk. On Lynxe, he had found
the second Pentacle, which had been instrumental in bringing him to Jubal to find
Eridos. So far, there had not been a hint that he might find the third Pentacle which
would take him somewhere else, to another world yet to be defined, where he would
seek out the third Companion of the Image.
The great column of the Gens and their animals moved slowly. He was
reminded of the ancient history of Old Earth. There were many parallels from which
to draw. Tribal movements of nomadic peoples, wandering from place to place.
Wandering was the operative word. It was as if they had all the time in eternity to get
to their destination. He felt like urging them to greater efforts, but he knew it wouldn't
be prudent. At best, he was accepted under sufferance. They took their lead from
Eridos and there wouldn't be a man, woman or child, who didn't know of his hatred
for Quetzal.
He fretted and stewed for the remainder of the day. In deference to his needs,
they made a wayside camp, so that he could have a sleeping period. They settled
down in the gathering wind and tried to chew gritty hard tack. Kane growled to
Nuraghe.
"I wish they would move faster."
"I know, that's all I've been hearing all day. When patience was bestowed by
the gods, you must have been in the toilet!"
Kane closed his mouth tight and glared at the ocean. It was developing an oily
roll. Tidal surges were beginning to build. Far out, close to the equator, the water was
gathering like a great blister, reaching out towards the approaching, but hidden Dwarf.
Surprisingly, the seismic activity had died down. The strange calm he had experienced
in the Crag Caverns, had persisted. It wasn't to stay that way for much longer. Almost
as soon as he had settled down to sleep, there was an enormous shudder, which sent
the Picun scattering in all directions, with the herders after them. The land continued
to heave and shiver long after the first shock. A great cloud of dust rose and
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smothered everything as the ground shivered into new fissures on the ancient surface.
Kane growled.
"I'll be glad to get off this heap of dust!"
Nuraghe looked interested.
"You may tell Eridos that I have received - new orders. The people of the Ship
will leave within four more of my days - and he and I will leave after that!"
Nuraghe said nothing. After a while, he got up without a word and wandered
off. Kane watched him go, knowing that Eridos would receive his message. They
continued their journey and reached the Arch a little earlier than expected. Eridos had
already established his camp a short distance from it. His scouts reported that Obeid
or Hammadi, whoever was in control, was a similar distance on the other side. It was
the closest the two gens had come in four thousand years. Kane knew that he had a
few hours to talk some sense into their heads. From the expression on Eridos' face,
when he rode into his camp, he knew he was going to have a hard time.
He left the Picun and the Bole in the Encampment and together with Nuraghe,
continued on through the camp and out again on the side nearest the Great Arch. It
had the appearance of the head of a needle which was buried in the purple dust of the
seashore. The eye of the needle was the Arch, which cut the shoreline into two. The
ocean lapped against the outer rock edge, the shaft of the needle continued back into
the land mass, buried in the gradual slope which led to the fringe of Schwarm.
Kane couldn't remember the number of days which had elapsed since he had
first come to Jubal. The numbering of days didn't count for much on a planet where it
had a different meaning. He knew he was weary, as he walked towards it with
Nuraghe. They passed the place where he had first met Hammadi, Dagh and Motya
and where he had witnessed the contest with the Krain. They topped the slight rise
and there it was in front of them. Kane had a sudden longing to return back the way
he had come - back to Maia. Perhaps, the Paths of Psi wouldn't lead him back,
perhaps, they were constantly variable and they were controlled by the Masters.
He had the hollow feeling of complete conviction that Lynxe and Maia were
utterly lost. Even if he could return to Lynxe, it might not be at the right time -
perhaps, he would once more be Taxila, pursuing Shaita and then finding the ten
maidens and fathering the Lynxe race. He wouldn't find Maia.
"Tell me, Nuraghe, Have there ever been others who came to you through the
Arch?"
"You came once before, Lord Quetzal - I don't know of anyone else."
They walked up to it and stopped. For some reason, Kane didn't want to go
through it. It wasn't superstitious fear, more a sense of caution that he might be
snatched away before it was time. There was still a great deal to complete before he
left Jubal in less than three days.
It wasn't a very impressive structure, just a frame of harder rock around
something which had worn away. It was about five metres high and about three deep.
Nuraghe stepped through confidently. He was either very brave or didn't believe that
he was going to be struck by lightning. He waited for Kane to join him. Kane
wondered about a mechanism which could move a man in space and time - but only
sometimes. He walked through and joined him.
A group of grey cloaks came whooping over the brow of the shoreline. They
were either idiots with a death wish, or believed they were under divine protection.
Eridos was camped three hundred metres distant, they couldn't hope to capture them
or kill them, without dying in the attempt. Nuraghe had already drawn his short
sword. Kane gave an abrupt order.
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"Get through the Arch, you bloody young food - and stay there!"
He accompanied the order with a ferocious glare. The young black cloak
complied unhappily. Kane stripped off his Kous and stood in the frame of the Arch.
Nuraghe hovered expectantly behind him. Kane stood and waited for a group of six
grey cloaks to pull up before him. They eyed him warily and then glanced down at the
black cloak. One made a move, the sight of the hated enemy garment was enough to
dispel caution. Kane lifted his hand and pointed his finger. The rider stopped,
memories of what had happened to Obeid were still recent.
"What do you want with Quetzal?"
He stared back at him, not sure what to do next. His troop moved restlessly,
Kane gave them the benefit of a direct look, it was enough to make them still.
"Tell Obeid and Hammadi to come here in five thousand heartbeats. Tell them
to come without weapons. Now, go!"
For a moment, he wondered if they were going to call his bluff. The results
might have been unpredictable if they had. The pointing finger made them think better
of it. The first one raised his hand in a kind of salute and the troop followed him back
along the sand in the direction from which they had come. Kane breathed a slow sigh
of relief.
Nuraghe started to babble congratulations. Kane cut him short.
"Go back to Eridos and tell him the same thing. Then, lead the Picun carrying
the Bole very carefully. I'm sure you will be very careful, won't you?"
He nodded glumly, Kane could see that he wasn't enthused about either part of
his errand.
"Tell Eridos that I will not camp with him whilst he has thoughts of the
Division and the Enmity. Tell him that Quetzal is for all of the People of the Ship, not
for one side or the other. Tell him that Quetzal camps in the Arch. It belongs to the
Masters of Psi."
Quetzal had come to the surface. He watched Nuraghe trudging back the short
distance to Eridos' camp. He felt no sorrow for him. Eridos had used him as his spy
and a spy had to take the consequences of his actions. He hoped Eridos wouldn't be
unwise enough to try to hold the Bole as a hostage. The Bole would react predictably.
He replaced his cloak, the heat was getting to him, even though he was in the
limited shade of the Arch. Nuraghe took his time to return, Kane began to think that
Eridos had succumbed to rashness. He saw the young man approaching over the rise,
leading a Picun on a very long halter. No one followed him.
"Eridos will be here. He told me to tell you that he will be delighted to meet
his cousin and his cousin's nephew. He will not be armed."
Kane relaxed slightly, Eridos' response had not been provocative. He turned to
the Picun and off loaded the Bole.
"You'd better go back to the camp, Nuraghe."
The youngster's face dropped.
"I'm thinking of your future. You have to live with your people. Very soon, I'll
be gone and so will Eridos! I'm trying to make it easier for you."
His eyes widened at the reference to Eridos. He breathed.
"Eridos goes with you?"
Kane nodded.
"It's your decision - You can stay if you wish."
It wasn't the most gracious invitation but it was accepted. Kane addressed the
Bole.
"Status."
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"Integrity."
Nuraghe went pale. He hadn't been present when the Bole had scorched his
five companions at the Crag Cavern.
"Full alert."
"In full retaliatory mode."
Nuraghe retreated to the furthest point he could find. It wasn't easy, there
wasn't a great deal of room in the Arch. He kept Kane between himself and the metal
cube. He was happy when he was given another task.
"I want you to take the Picun back to the camp and escort Eridos."
"He doesn't need escorting!"
"Do as I say! You'll even up the numbers. Obeid will come with Hammadi, it
will be a sign of equality if Eridos had a companion as well. And Nuraghe - make sure
you leave your sword with the Picun!"
He looked even more unhappy but he nodded agreement. Kane watched him
disappear over the ridge. He began to feel the heat, despite the Kous and realised it
was the building tension. The better part of another hour passed and then the Bole
sounded a warning.
"Two figures approaching from the direction of the Hammadi Encampment."
Kane wondered if the Bole knew something he didn't about the status of the
leadership of the Gens Obeid. Two men emerged from the heat shimmer, at first, they
were like insubstantial phantoms. Two were visible, but they could well have had an
army hidden beyond the dunes.
"Two figures are approaching from the Eridos Encampment."
They too, seemed to be alone. They too might have arranged a little backup.
Kane sighed, it was going to be a difficult interview. It was either perfect timing, or
sheer coincidence, but all four men reached the Arch at precisely the same moment.
Hammadi looked equally unhappy. Kane stared into Obeid's face, his return stare was
icy. His voice was as cold.
"I see you choose to show your true allegiance, Quetzal. The dress of the
enemy suits you!"
"Would you prefer I go naked?"
"In preference to that - yes!"
Kane untied the throat knot and allowed the black cloak to drop. Eridos
purred.
"Is that the extent of my cousin's intelligence? He measures a man by the
cloak he wears? I commiserate with you, Quetzal. You appear to have a bad choice of
friends."
Obeid responded bitterly.
"I never knew that the Predator had a voice! I thought it was all arms and
tentacles and slime. I wasn't told about the voice!"
It was not a good start. Eridos ignored Obeid, he turned to Hammadi.
"And how is my cousin's nephew?"
Kane looked at him sharply, just for an instant there was a hint of human
emotion on his face. It might have been the flickering light of the flaring star - in a
second, it was gone.
"I am well, my uncle's cousin!"
Kane felt a surge of emotion. He hadn't called him 'father'! It was time to
interpose.
"If the greetings and insults are at an end, it is time for decisions."
Obeid growled.
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"How can one parley with Sharta?"
Kane drew breath.
"You can parley with anyone - if you face destruction from a stronger enemy.
Greater men than you have had to swallow their pride and their bitterness for the
common good. If you have the interests of your respective Gens at heart - you will
find a way to talk!"
Hammadi interjected. Obeid didn't seem to like having his thunder stolen, but
he let him have his head.
"Talk is not what is needed - action is!"
Eridos smiled slightly.
"You seem to be endowed with sense, Hammadi. I can see why Quetzal
relieved Obeid of his command and gave it to you!"
It was the one comment Eridos could have made to inflame the situation. Kane
swore within his thoughts - the slimy, devious bastard. Obeid's face was already
darkening. He moved forward threateningly into the Arch. Kane stood his ground with
folded arms.
"No one relieved me from my command! Let alone this traitor, who calls
himself Quetzal! He is only good for stealing, cousin. Did you know that he stole your
son from you? The son you gave to Ajanta! Look at your son, cousin! Doesn't he have
your looks? I raised him well to hate you!"
Hammadi sat like a rock, his face was without expression. Eridos looked quite
relaxed - if you could call a coiled spring, relaxed. He turned to Hammadi.
"I greet you, my son. I had hoped our meeting would have been different - and
not entrusted into the hands of an uncouth oaf whose bitterness is so blind, it strikes
even at those who love him! I trust your mother is well?"
Hammadi stared for a moment at the man who had been declared as his father.
Obeid sensed his defeat, it was more than he could stand. He flung himself into the
Arch and caught Kane off balance. He was cannoned into the Bole, who was unable to
take preventative measures. Eridos stepped back smartly to avoid the charging man
and found himself in the ocean. Obeid followed and as Kane picked himself up, flung
himself on his enemy.
Both Hammadi and Nuraghe would have followed their respective leaders into
the water, but Kane grabbed their wrists and got severely sworn at for his pains.
Eridos and Obeid rolled over and over in the shallows. They scrambled and tore at
each other, whilst Kane and the two younger men watched helplessly. The Bole
teetered out of the Arch, up to its first joints in the purple sand. Kane ground out.
"You were a fat lot of use!"
"You obstructed the angle of fire."
"Render assistance!"
"To whom?"
Kane's plans for a truce were in ruins. The parties to the negotiations were
trying to drown each other - or worse. The problem was, they were quite easily
matched. The skirmish continued for quite a long time, with no sign of either tiring.
The pent up fury of four thousand years of hatred was sufficiently potent to keep the
adrenaline flowing. Kane wondered when it was going to end. He knew how, for
Eridos was destined to leave Jubal with him, therefore the loser would have to be
Obeid. He didn't take into consideration the interruption.
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CHAPTER 22
Nuraghe spotted it first and pointed. Hammadi tried to tear himself out of
Kane's grip but he tightened his hold on both of them. They watched in horror, as the
waters surged and parted and tentacles began to twine around the combatants. The
hideous shape of the Krain reared above the surface.
Kane could see that it killed by crushing. Coiling round and round the body of
its victim, squeezing out the breath, strangling until the struggles ceased. Its mouth
was a nightmare, a serrated, pulsating tube, which oozed with digestive juices - no
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doubt, in anticipation of the feast. Obeid and Eridos forgot their combat and started to
scream. They still had breath to do it. More tentacles came into play and started to
draw them beneath the surface. Kane screamed.
"Kill it!"
A jet of pure light lanced out from the front of the Bole. It hit the creature
high, above the wide open gullet. The monstrosity shuddered but it kept going,
concentrating its efforts on subduing the two men in the quickest possible time. The
Bole struck again. This time, with precision. Kane wondered if it was too late. Obeid
was limp. His limbs twitching and his face black - Eridos was little better. The Krain
tried to drag them into the security of deeper water.
"Finish it! Slice it to pieces! Constant fire! Destroy it!"
It might have sounded as if he was enjoying himself. Afterwards, he supposed
it was not every day that you would find a stark naked man on a purple seashore,
yelling orders to a square box on six legs, instructing it to dissect a multi-tentacled
abortion of creation. The Bole complied with his instructions. It was calmly
methodical. It neatly sliced off the tentacles holding the limp bodies. Eventually, there
was only the torso left, writhing in its death throes. It stained the water with a fluid
which went for its blood.
Kane released his grip on the wrists of the two young men and they darted into
the water to recover the victims. The Masters of Psi played one of their anomalous
games. Nuraghe brought in Obeid, whilst Hammadi collected his father. The Krain, or
what was left of it, sank beneath the surface. There was a brief turmoil, a seething of
tentacles, as others of its kind finished it off. It was the classic example of waste not -
want not!
They worked on the limp figures of the princes of the people of the Ship. Kane
moved between the two sweating youngsters, who were trying to pump the water out
of them. They wrenched off their sodden Kous. Eridos' ribs would be sore for a long
time, if he lived. They were black and blue, with abrasions where the bony scales on
the inside of the tentacles had clawed into the flesh. Obeid was no better, his blood
trickled, he was still alive.
The young men got them breathing and they started to moan curses after a
while - it was a good sign! Kane looked at Hammadi cradling his father's head. He
could feel no jealousy, it seemed right and natural. He looked across at Obeid, he was
taking a little longer and Nuraghe was swearing at him like a trooper. He had an
impressive vocabulary. Eventually, they were able to sit and face each other. There
was no doubt that Obeid was the worse for wear, although Eridos wasn't much better.
Kane delivered a lecture whilst they had no breath with which to argue.
"Well, you bloody fools! Not only did your pig-headed stupidity nearly get
you killed, but you nearly included your two rescuers. Your blind hatred makes you
unsuitable to be leaders. I suggest you go back to your Encampments and think about
this. If the man you despise - Quetzal - hadn't been here with his wonder machine,
you would have been swimming in the digestive juices of that - thing - and these two
with you!
If the time should come that you're ready to talk sense, call for me - but don't
make it too long - you have about ten thousand heart beats in which to make up your
mind whether you want to continue the feud until Jubal's guts are spilled into space,
or whether you want your people to live! For the time being, I won't visit either of
your camps. If you want me, you come here!"
When they were capable of walking, Eridos and Obeid stumbled back towards
their respective camps, leaning heavily on their escorts. Kane had avoided looking at
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Hammadi, there was nothing to be gained by holding on to a relationship which had
been shattered. The two leaders had parted without saying anything further to each
other. Kane had the feeling that the blame for their condition would be attributed to
him when they reached their supporters. For the want of another companions, he said
to the Bole.
"That's what I call a busy half-hour."
The Bole was unresponsive. Kane persevered.
"I hope the tide doesn't come in whilst I'm sleeping. I wouldn't want to dream
about that thing - let alone meet it in bed!"
The red star chose that moment to blast out another flare. It was quite
spectacular, much greater than earlier. He watched, fascinated, as it gradually curled
back, as if reluctant to collapse into the body of the star. More followed, a surge of
gaseous eruptions, one after the other. The red giant looked about to fall apart at the
seams. The varicosed pattern on its surface was more prominent, like the legs of a
tired, old woman. Kane watched it for a long time, knowing that he was seeing
something few others of any race had ever seen. He murmured to the Bole.
"It won't survive this time. The Dwarf will, it's so compact it must survive.
When Jubal explodes into a fireball, its star will be thrown out of balance and the
Dwarf will suck its substance into itself and grow - just a little."
The Bole spoke up, displaying its superior knowledge.
"The White dwarf will continue to attract stellar material, which it will
condense within seconds. The condition of the matter within it is beyond description.
The time will come when its balance of forces will not continue to support its
structure and even light will not be able to escape its gravitational pull. Then, it will
become invisible - a black hole!"
"A masterly summation!"
"I can expand on the theories concerning the birth, life and death of all stellar
types."
"Don't bother - just keep watch!"
Kane lay down on the fine powder of sand beneath the Arch and shrouded
himself in the Kous. It was no worse than spending his sleeping period on the open
plain. This time, however, he had no companions, unless you could count two hostile
camps hidden beyond the sloping ground on either side of the Arch. The third enemy
waited in the ocean. All in all, it didn't promise to be a restful sleep.
Nuraghe returned within the hour, Kane was still awake and prevented the
Bole from becoming aggressive. He sat up and contemplated the winded young man.
"I thought I told you to stay with Eridos."
"I chose to come here - Eridos dismissed me."
Kane nodded.
"What's the mood at the Encampment?"
"Tense - When Eridos stumbled into camp, he was very quickly surrounded by
a crowd. There had been talk of a war party to attack the treacherous enemy who had
done this to their leader. Eridos snapped a command that there was to be no war party
and then retired into his tent. The elders took me aside and asked a lot of questions. I
told them about the Krain and how - that thing - killed it!"
Kane nodded, duplicate that story and the same would have happened at the
camp of Obeid. The basic ingredients for a classic slaughter were being accumulated.
"You'd better stay here."
He didn't need a second invitation, promptly squatting down a maximum
distance from the Bole. Kane dismissed thoughts of sleep.
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"Tell me about the night, Nuraghe."
"What is there to tell, Lord Quetzal?"
"Well - The night line is coming closer. If the Dwarf wasn't coming, you
would be preparing for your sleep, I suppose?"
"Usually, we make preparation to move the herd to the Place of Caves."
"And where is that?"
"Very close to the Place of Heat. When the night is coming, we can cross the
Place of Heat, otherwise it isn't possible. The Place of Caves is a strange place. None
of us like it very much. It was the place to which Siyulk led the People of the Ship -
those who followed him. It was when he retreated from the forces of that Sharta
Tursac! He thought Siyulk had taken his followers to their death in the Place of Heat,
but Siyulk fooled him and hid the people and the herd in the Place of Caves."
"What is the Place of Caves like?"
Nuraghe swallowed and looked embarrassed.
"It is cold and dark - and full of wraiths, Lord Quetzal. I don't like it. I have
only been there twice and I am not looking forward to the third time!"
"There will not be a third time, Nuraghe. So, you take the herd into the
caverns and go in yourselves - What happens then?"
Nuraghe looked even more embarrassed.
"The Picun are driven into the lowest part of the caverns, through the Wraith
cave."
"This Wraith cave - is it like the cavern where Urartu lives?"
"Much greater, Lord Quetzal! Hugh, monstrous, it's full of clouds which smell
of death. Hugh growths sprout from the rocks and the walls. If you touch them, you
fall down as dead. There are some who do die! I've seen it. You have to be very
careful in the Wraith cave."
"What happens to the Picun?"
"They go to sleep."
"That's all - they go to sleep?"
"They find a place to settle down, then they sleep for the night."
Kane thought about it - they fall asleep for a thousand years!
"What about the people?"
"The people do the same. The only difference is that the wise ones of the tribe
give us something to drink, and we become very tired. Soon, it becomes very cold and
we all share the cloak with someone we like and often we make love for the last time.
It is then that we drink the potion and wait for sleep. When it comes, it is as if we no
longer breath. We sleep for the whole night and then, slowly, we awaken."
He stopped, Kane sensed there was more to come.
"Last time, I shared the cloak with someone I really liked. We loved before we
slept - for a long time. When I woke, she had died during the night. She was only just
over a day old. We had decided to have children together, after we had awakened."
Kane waited for a while then asked gently.
"Are there many who die during the sleep?
He nodded.
"Many die. Usually, it is the old, it is to be expected with them. Tara was so
young. The elders said that she had touched a growth in the Wraith cave and after that,
the potion was too strong for her. I was with her all the time. She was usually so
careful, I didn't see her touch the growth."
"You can't blame yourself, Nuraghe. It was an unfortunate accident. In the day
which has passed since the last sleep, did you find happiness with someone else?"
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Surely, during the thousand years, he hadn't lived like a monk. Nuraghe
flushed and nodded.
"I have found a mate. We have had children."
Kane nodded and clapped him on the shoulder.
"A man should have children. You should be with your family now."
He shook his head.
"I have been made responsible for you by the Tepe Eridos."
Kane stared at him.
"He must hold you in very high regard."
"I hope so, Lord Quetzal. The Tepe Eridos is my father!"
Kane's eyes widened. Nuraghe continued with some bitterness.
"It isn't a great asset to be Eridos' bastard! I'm one of many - it's the way of our
people."
The conversation lapsed for the want of anything constructive to say. There
was one of those long drawn out embarrassed silences. Nuraghe broke it.
"The Tepe Eridos has told me to tell you that he will rest and then come here
again."
Kane nodded and hoped his Companion of the Image would come in a more
conciliatory frame of mind. He was still no closer to bringing about a status of
peaceful coexistence between the two arms of the people of the Ship. The river of
hatred ran very deep in the leaders of both sides. They were like old war horses,
scenting the smell of battle. Four thousand years of hatred was a formidable barrier.
Nuraghe jumped to his feet, his hand already reaching for his sword. A rider
was approaching from the direction of the other camp. Kane knew the figure too well,
there was no mistaking Hammadi.
"Relax, Nuraghe. Your brother comes in peace!"
The inner man was beginning to assert himself, a germ of an idea was forming
which might solve their problems. Nuraghe glared from Hammadi to Kane.
"Is it really so? Could this grey cloak really be my brother?"
"Eridos has acknowledged him as his son."
"I heard him! I didn't believe it! If you say that it is true - then I have to
believe it."
"It is true!"
Hammadi dismounted, apparently not as nervous as his half brother. He
looked casually unconcerned and nodded a greeting to Nuraghe. Kane felt quite
detached - an onlooker watching the scene. It was as if he was watching a play and he
wasn't part of the action. Quetzal was coming to the surface, smothering the tension
and the stress brought about by the denial that Hammadi was his son. It had been nice
whilst it had lasted, but now it was over.
"I greet you, my father!"
"I am not your father, Hammadi! Your father has acknowledged you and it is
as it should be. Eridos has claimed you as his son!"
Hammadi ignored Nuraghe, the pain was obvious in his eyes. He whispered
defiantly.
"You are my father! You, Quetzal, Kane Ashford, gave me life - not Eridos! I
will not accept him as my father!"
Quetzal came to the fore - he was rough.
"It is not for you to accept or decline! The Masters of Psi have decreed that
you will be the next Leader of the reunited People of the Ship. It will be you, who
takes the Ship away from Jubal. It is your destiny, as the son of Eridos and the son of
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Ajanta. Meet your brother, Hammadi - embrace him! Eridos has not declared him to
be his son - but he is!"
Hammadi continued to stare at Kane, long after he had finished speaking.
Kane felt as if he had kicked him in the face. Hammadi's pain blazed out of his eyes.
It demanded that things said must be retracted. Kane kept his mouth clamped shut in a
thin snarl. He let his own pain show a little, it was the most he could allow. Hammadi
turned to Nuraghe. They stared at each other, assessing, debating. Without putting too
fine a point on it, it was probably one of the most critical meetings in the history of
their race.
"Quetzal talks of me leading the people and commanding the Ship. What do
you say?"
Nuraghe shrugged slightly.
"I'm not one of the leaders of my Gens. I ask the question, how will Eridos and
Obeid be persuaded?"
Kane interjected.
"Eridos is bound to me and the Masters of Psi. Like me, he isn't master of his
own destiny. He will leave Jubal with me in five days. He has no choice but to obey
and whether he tries to resist, or whether he agrees, is of no consequence. As for
Obeid, I cannot answer. I am certain that he will not be allowed to obstruct the will of
the Masters."
Hammadi answered softly.
"Then, my father, you might have to kill him!"
"If necessary - yes!"
Nuraghe retreated a step.
"I can't believe this conversation is happening. Just listening to it is as good as
treachery to our lords."
Hammadi reached out tentatively.
"When you know Quetzal, brother - you know he is serious."
He thrust out his hand in greeting. Nuraghe eyed it and after a moment's
hesitation, responded. Kane let the air rattle out of his lungs. He had a bad habit of
holding his breath when under stress. They weren't exactly falling around each other's
next in an expression of brotherly affection - but it was a start.
Hammadi turned to Kane.
"I came to tell you that Obeid will not come here again. He is preparing for
war!"
Nuraghe jumped back like a startled Picun.
"Steady, boy. Hammadi didn't say that he agreed with the idea."
Hammadi continued.
"Obeid is wild with jealousy and anger. My mother has been talking to him,
Quetzal. She told him what took place between you. Obeid has sworn to kill you if he
has half the chance and he's determined to take the Ship by force and make sure that
the black cloaks remain here to be destroyed. There's enough hotheads among the
people to follow him. I came to warn you to move from the Arch, my father. Obeid is
going to come after you first. He is determined to kill you and destroy the machine, no
matter how many get killed doing so. Then, he will sweep on and meet the forces of
Eridos!"
Kane couldn't hold Nuraghe any longer, he jumped forward with drawn sword.
Kane bellowed.
"Sit down, you bloody, young fool! What do you think you're going to gain by
killing the messenger? Hammadi, where is your camp?"
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"Just beyond the hill, you can see it from the sand line."
As he had suspected, he was equidistant from each camp. Kane felt like the
meat in the sandwich.
"When will he ride?"
"When he's over the worst of the mauling he got from the Krain. It won't be
long, perhaps a little more than one of your sleeps."
Nuraghe blurted out.
"I'm going to warn Eridos!"
"And get your Gens fired up, I suppose?"
"He must be warned!"
Kane was saved the bother of arguing. Other forces intervened. They were
flung from their feet by one of the most violent earth tremors he had experienced
whilst on Jubal. For a moment, he thought the Arch might shatter. There was a further
succession of jolts but their strength diminished. When it was over, Kane looked up at
the Arch, it was still standing and little had been shaken loose. Hammadi's Picun had
taken off in fright. Nuraghe was missing. He spied his distant back striding
purposefully towards the rise which hid Eridos' camp from him. Kane swore luridly, it
was all he needed! He turned to Hammadi.
"I suppose you want to go back to your camp?"
He shook his head.
"I would like to stay a while - not to talk, unless you wish it. I want to sit with
you, my father. I want to sit in peace, I think it will be for the last time. It will be
something to remember when the Ship moves between the stars. I don't believe that
even Quetzal can separate two enemies as bitter as Obeid and Eridos. In a short time
there will be the last battle. I will ride with the grey cloaks and Nuraghe will ride with
the black cloaks. Perhaps, we will fight and one of us will die. Many will die in the
battle, but as long as Obeid and Eridos both live, the battle will continue. These are
things which weigh on my heart, I don't want to think of them. Let us not talk of
battle, my father - let us sit in peace."
Kane put his arm around his shoulder and felt like weeping - but Quetzal
doesn't weep, he cannot afford the luxury. It was quiet, even the ground was still. The
old expression came into his mind. This was the calm before the storm. Jubal was
waiting for the last act in her drama to be fulfilled. It was like the gathering of
strength for the last breath of life. The ocean lapped quietly and high above, the black,
silent wings of the Sentinels continued to pulse slowly, as, distant from one another,
but still One in their Flock Mind, they continued in their determined path.
Suddenly, Kane understood. His task was not finished with the departure of
the Ship. The forthcoming battle between the forces of Obeid and Eridos, was not the
final act. Even the departure of the Ship with the survivors, was only another event in
what was to unfold. The People of the Ship were not the only sentient beings on Jubal.
Quetzal would also save his Flock!
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CHAPTER 23
They sat in the shelter of the Arch for a long time. Kane tried to guess the
heartbeats, it was the measurement of Jubal. Hammadi was the one who stirred. The
time of peace was at an end. They clasped each other silently and then drew apart.
"You are my father. I know the story of Eridos' visit. My mother told me when
I challenged her. It makes no difference if he was the first to know her. It doesn't
always happen that there is an immediate conception. I know that I come from your
seed. I know it - and you know it. I know also, your reasons for denying it and the
play acting and pretence that Eridos is my father. That is another matter. Between you
and me, there can be no pretence. Go in peace, my father!"
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Kane managed to whisper.
"Go in peace, my son!"
Kane watched him as he walked through the sand towards the line of Schwarm
brush, which marked the ridge beyond which was a camp preparing for war. It was
nearly on this spot that they had first met. It seemed an eternity had elapsed but it was
only a matter of a few weeks in his measurement. Kane watched him until he was out
of sight. He was tall and supple, a man, four thousand years old but with the body and
the sentiments of a twenty year old.
Kane didn't fear for his son. He knew that he had correctly predicted his
destiny. He wouldn't fall in the battle that was almost certain to take place. Hammadi
vanished into the scented Schwarm and he was left alone with the Bole. The Ship
would come soon. In the meantime, the battle would take place. Hammadi would soon
be in the midst of the preparations for war in Obeid's camp. Nuraghe was already
filling Eridos' ears with what he had heard, Kane wondered if he would still come to
the Arch.
Kane slumped down again and stretched out. He was too alert and watchful to
sleep. The ocean lapped against the rock of the Arch, it was deceptively peaceful. The
red star flared out its substance towards its hidden companion. The planet was bathed
in a lurid, flickering glare. From the direction Nuraghe had taken, came a solitary,
black cloaked, unmistakable figure. Kane spoke a quiet command.
"Take no action - no matter what he does!"
He didn't rise as Eridos entered the Arch and stood over him. They stared at
each other without greeting. Eridos broke the silence.
"I've come to put an end to our feud."
"There are many ways of doing that. What do you have in mind?"
Eridos allowed the flicker of a bleak smile.
"During the long days I have waited for you, I would have given an immediate
answer to that question."
"And now?"
"Now - you have robbed me of my vengeance and my victory."
"By giving you your son?"
Eridos moved restlessly and then sat on the sand beside him.
"You can't give me what I can't possess. Hammadi hates me and always will!
Obeid did his job well!"
"Why are you here, Eridos? You must know what Nuraghe has told you. Obeid
is preparing for an attack. He could come over the dunes at any second."
Eridos stirred the sand with one finger.
"I have listened to what Nuraghe had to say. It seems we owe our son a vote of
thanks for telling us Obeid's plans."
Kane ignored the implications of the plural fatherhood.
"And your son, Nuraghe showed his loyalty to you by carrying the message."
"Ah! So, Nuraghe claims me for a father? I suppose it is always possible. I
have fathered many sons - no doubt you can say the same? One has a tendency to lose
count after a while. What's another bastard more or less?"
Kane nodded quietly.
"I agree. Bastards are to be found in every walk of life and in every
generation!"
Eridos' smile increased a little.
"Does it trouble you that I consider bastards to be cheap and that I haven't
accepted Nuraghe as my son?"
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"I wonder at the conflict of values. You are very eager to claim Hammadi as
the product of your seed - but Nuraghe, you dismiss."
"Nuraghe also told me of your little charade of introducing my two - sons to
each other and your pathetic little plan to have Hammadi pilot the Ship away from
Jubal, with Nuraghe as his loving brother and assistant. Really, Quetzal! I would
never have credited you with such mawkish sentimentality!"
"No doubt, you see the scenario differently."
"I know that you're desperately trying to avoid a battle. In this, you are living
in a dream world. The People of Jubal will not quickly abandon the hatred of
thousands of years and kiss and be friends - even in the face of the total destruction of
this planet. There will be a fight and the winners will take the Ship, which you have
so kindly reactivated. It is my intention to be the winner of any battle and with the
knowledge given to me by my father, Siyulk, to pilot the Ship."
The inner man came to the surface.
"And what if I don't let you?"
Eridos' face hardened.
"Kane Ashford doesn't like pain. You will scream like a woman before I'm
finished with you! You will not stand in the way, of that, I am quite confident."
"Kane Ashford might scream like a woman, but Quetzal will never give you
the Ship. I will tell you something for free, Eridos. Kane Ashford has nearly gone.
Quetzal is in command. There isn't a man created who can stand against Quetzal! I
wouldn't advise you to try."
Eridos tried to outstare him and failed.
"And who talks now?"
"Quetzal."
Eridos stared at the sand.
"I will kill you with my own hands, Quetzal! I will show you that I am master
of my own destiny. There is no power in the universe which will prevent me from
fulfilling what is mine by right of birth. My father was Siyulk, whose death I will yet
avenge on you. I will command the Ship and my people will be the crew and
passengers. There will not be one grey cloak who will remain alive after I am
finished. None will enter the Ship with us. Do I make myself clear?"
Kane eyed him mildly.
"Abundantly! tell me, does that include the Tene Ajanta and your son,
Hammadi?"
Eridos glared at him with unrelenting ferocity. The mask was gone, there was
no mistaking his hatred. He slumped back, still staring.
"What is Ajanta to me? I took her from under your nose. For once, the
licentious Kane Ashford was trying to act the gentleman. You didn't want to take
Ajanta before the official ceremony. That noble act cost you the pleasure of being the
first. I beat you! I pretended to be you! I have revelled in your degradation! She
thought I was you and she didn't try to stop me and all the time I took her, she cried
out in her passion, your name, over and over. I kept silent - imagine it, Kane Ashford,
Quetzal! Think about it."
Kane knew he was trying to goad him into an attack.
"I know your mind, Eridos. I know what you're trying to do. You won't
succeed."
He doubted if Eridos heard him. He grated on.
"She was supposed to be mine. The Division was supposed to end with our
union. She was the daughter of Tursac and I was the son of Siyulk. We should have
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been united and our people would have been one. You, Kane Ashford, put an end to
that and the result has been four thousand of your years spent wandering the surface
of this planet, each Gens avoiding the other. We have suffered the bitter cold of the
nights and the deaths in the caves and all the other privations. Now, you want to be
noble, you want to save the people before the planet is destroyed. You want us to go
into the Ship like good little people and all will be well."
It was like an ulcer which had finally burst. Kane kept silent, there was more.
"Ajanta preferred you. She liked your sensual approach. You look different to
our men - she liked that. Obeid listened to her, it pleased him to have an alternative
suitor. He hated me and had no sympathy with the plan of reconciliation. I remember
how he gloated when he told me, so very politely, in the hearing of the elders of both
our Gens, that the Tene Ajanta had declined my offer of union and that instead, she
would link herself to the alien who had come through this Arch.
Ajanta turned from me! I ask the great Quetzal. Why should I consider her?
Let the great Lord Quetzal provide for her - otherwise, she can burn with the planet!
As for Hammadi - if he cares to acknowledge me as I have acknowledged him,
I will take him along. He will have to come to me before the battle and he will have to
shed the grey cloak and don the black cloak and ride with me against his uncle! If the
opportunity comes, I will not kill Obeid, I will give the sword to Hammadi. It will be
the final proof that he considers himself to be my son. Not only, that it was my seed
which gave him life, but that he values me above Obeid as his father!"
Eridos had exhausted himself at last, he looked grey even in the fiery light of
the red star. He stared at Kane with undiminished hatred.
"It was an error for me to come here."
"But, you came. Was it only to pour out your hatred?"
"Why else?"
Quetzal was still dominant, he probed gently, finding the path into the tight
knot of hatred which locked Eridos' thoughts. He remembered Danyk and how he had
poured tranquillity, quietness, peace into the dark pool of bitterness and hatred. Eridos
slept before he knew it.
Quetzal looked down at the relaxed features. In so many ways, he was an
image of the human form in which he lived. Eridos was an exaggerated version of
Kane Ashford, with less of the qualities of softness, but with the same sensuality.
Eridos was a much harder man, more vicious and determined, with none of the
qualities which created indecision or soul searching. The similarities were what
created the conflict between them and the differences were the weapons in the
conflict.
In the camp of Obeid, Hammadi entered his uncle's tent. He stood waiting for
acknowledgement.
"So, you're back. What happened? Has the mighty Quetzal beaten a retreat
with his fancy metal box? Perhaps, he's run to Eridos. I wouldn't expect anything else.
Your so-called father has a good turn of speed when it comes to running away from
trouble. He's like a virgin Picun with a stallion after her. I begin to wonder about my
judgement, Hammadi. Perhaps, I'm getting old. I had thought of killing him before the
battle, to get him out of the way. He's not worth the trouble, he'll keep. We can string
up both of the bastards by the balls and they can scream each other deaf!"
Hammadi proceeded with caution. Obeid was spoiling for a fight, but he didn't
want to purge their differences in that way. It would have served no useful purpose
and it wouldn't have prevented the impending battle. Obeid eyed him balefully.
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"Have you gone dumb? I suppose consorting with your dear father has struck
you speechless!"
Hammadi picked his words carefully.
"I was just thinking about how stupid a man can get. I thought you were taken
in by Quetzal. I was wrong, all the time, you could see through the fancy talk. I
jumped to the wrong conclusion, I thought you were still remembering the friendship
you had when he was here before. That's why I was so careful to seem so friendly
towards him. Do you really imagine I was taken in by all this talk of him being my
father? Forgive me uncle, I misjudged you!"
Obeid stared at him for a long moment before jumping to his feet. He had
forgotten the mauling he had sustained from the Krain and cursed at the sudden
reminder. He grinned at his nephew and clasped him carefully.
"I forgot you were a cunning young bastard! I suppose you thought I was
senile? It takes more than the a smooth talking time walker like Quetzal to fool me.
You should have realised that I'd see through him as soon as he put his nose into the
camp!"
Obeid eased himself down on to his couch and winced with pain.
"That bloody Krain nearly had me. If I owe anything to the Quetzal, it is that
his fancy machine to rescue me."
Hammadi said casually.
"It would be quite a weapon in the hands of Eridos. What happens if Quetzal
hands it over to him?"
"We'll meet that problem when we get to it! Where else would Quetzal go? He
isn't the type to try to hide in the desert. He likes his comfort too much for that."
Hammadi moved around the tent and touched a few of its ornaments
thoughtfully.
I suppose, we'll have to handle this battle in a different way to all the others.
The machine is something we haven't faced before."
Obeid moved restlessly and growled.
"You know my attitude to battles. Straight in! Hit them hard, then out and
away before they can retaliate. Saves a lot of men."
"That's just what Eridos will be expecting. He knows you too well - just as you
know the way he thinks. We have to do something they won't be expecting!"
Obeid stared at his nephew.
"Such as?"
Hammadi carefully explained his plan. He hoped he sounded plausible and
that he was endowed with the same ability to lie through his teeth, as Quetzal, his
father. Obeid didn't interrupt and continued to stare at him after he had finished. Then
he started to started to object a few times and allowed the attempt to lapse after a few
words.
"I must be mad to listen to you! It's about the craziest scheme I've heard in the
last four days. Now, tell me again, what you think it's going to do for us."
Hammadi went over it carefully. It sounded worse every time he repeated it.
He tried to look casual as he waited for Obeid to make up his mind. He told himself,
everything depended on the arrival of the Ship. Somehow, he had to keep the
opposing forces apart until it came. He hoped Nuraghe was doing his part, but
somehow, he doubted it. He was sure the scheme he had suggested to Obeid was
sufficient to create enough chaos to make a battle impossible.
Obeid gave his grudging permission to put the wild cat scheme into effect.
Even as he watched Hammadi ride out with the herdsmen, he was still not quite sure
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why he had sanctioned it. He must have been losing his mind. He put it down to the
mauling he had received from the Krain. The doubt grew as he watched them go. It
was too late to call them back. He had made the decision and he had a gut feeling, he
was going to live to regret it.
Hammadi led his followers to the place where they had established the herd. It
was some distance from the Encampment. The usual considerations had been
followed, the Encampment was upwind from them, it avoided the stench and the dust
- it also kept them out of the way of the impending battle. The few herders who had
been left to care for the herd, blinked in surprise when they saw a small army of
fighting men moving in. They blinked even more, when Hammadi ordered the herd to
be moved inland, to a point far removed from the Encampment. No one felt himself
brave enough, or to possess sufficient clout, to argue the point, even when Hammadi
ordered a ruinous pace, which would drag the good flesh off the beasts. It just wasn't
good herd management!
They kept the herd on the run for the better part of four earth hours and then
they were ordered to swing them around on to a bearing which would bring them far
ahead of Obeid's camp on the coast - it would place them far behind Eridos'
Encampment. Eventually, Hammadi gave the order to swing them around towards the
coast again. He slowed the pace down to a brisk walk. He wanted the animals to have
plenty of wind for the remaining phase of the manoeuvre.
Eridos awoke from the sleep induced by Quetzal, feeling remarkably clear
headed. Admittedly, he still had to suppress a groan caused by the stiffness from his
earlier injuries. He shuddered as the memory returned of the gaping maw of the
creature and the serrated suckers of its mouth. He had actually been in a position to
count them - and that was far too close for his peace of mind.
He put aside the thoughts and looked across at Quetzal. He was already awake
and watching him. Eridos felt a surge of frustration. What did the man want from
him? The subject of Ajanta and Hammadi was exhausted. There was nothing to hold
them together - even the intense dislike he held for the man, was somehow muted.
Nothing had worked out the way he had planned - and he had made many plans
during the long days on how he would deal with his.
"I am returning to my camp."
Quetzal nodded.
"Our time is not yet. Do what you think you must."
Eridos left without another word. The answer had been an enigma. The entire
composite being of Quetzal/Kane Ashford was an enigma. He pushed the subject from
his mind, he had other things to consider. It was something fore-ordained in the
scheme of things. One day, there was always going to be a final battle. This was the
day.
Immediately on his return, he called together the elders of the tribe and
planned the strategy of the battle. When they were finished, the horns were blown. In
response, his men gathered to the call to arms. Within the hour, they would be on the
move. Obeid would have heard the horns also. The sound would have carried on the
warm, scented air. He would draw his own conclusions and know that the time was
upon them.
Hammadi took a troop of fifty men and rode forward cautiously. He knew he
was getting near to his target. They rode for another hour, whilst the rest of the men
moved the vast herd behind them. There would have to come the moment when the
element of surprise was lost. The movement of that many Picun, couldn't be hidden
indefinitely. The dust they raised, their plaintive calling to one another, would
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eventually give the game away. He hoped to get close enough before the opposing
side could develop any counter measures.
A lone, black cloaked rider came into view as they breasted a rise. He saw
them at the same moment. He raised a horn to his lips, but before it could be sounded,
an arrow from one of the advancing troop, found its mark. Hammadi sent some of his
troops back, it was time for the final play. He led the rest of his men off to one side at
a mad gallop. Another black cloak saw them, this time, it didn't matter. He sounded
off the alarm and nobody tried to stop him. Hammadi looked over his shoulder to
where the herd was, and saw the great cloud of purple dust beginning to swirl. The
herd was on the move, goaded out of control by the troopers and the herders. They
were in full flight, a wild stampede which nothing could stop until they had spent the
frantic energy of their panic.
At the top of one of the low rises of ground, which was the only vantage point
the terrain could offer, Hammadi reined in his Picun and held the trembling animal in
check. The rest of his men had the same problem. Their mounts sensed the panic of
the rest of the herd and instinctively wanted to be part of the mad onrush of beasts.
They were sweeping down on the grazing herd of Eridos. Hammadi saw the black
cloaked riders stung into alertness, firstly by the sound of the blaring horn and then,
by the sight of thousands of Picun, screaming and bellowing, bearing down on them
from the Schwarm desert.
The herds collided, like the crashing together of two surging flood waves.
Black cloaked riders were caught between them and went down into the pulping maze
of pounding hooves. Hammadi felt a little sick - they couldn't escape. The grazing
herd began to waver as the insurge of frenzied Picun communicated their blind panic
to the others. The whole mass began to gain momentum. They broke and stampeded.
Nine thousand or more of the herd of Obeid, triggered more than twelve thousand of
the herd of Eridos and they began to run in a wild, uncontrollable surge towards the
not too distant tents of the enemy.
Hammadi's men whooped with glee. Their uncertainty about the mental state
of their leader evaporated. They clapped him on the back - it was a master stroke!
Hammadi contrived to smile and tried not to look where the herd has passed. Here and
there, was something unrecognisable on the ground. Black and bloody shapes, which
appeared impossible to have been men. He steeled himself, there was no time for
sentiment, now came the hard riding. They took their positions on the flank of the
racing herd. The onrush had to be channelled. The impetus of the onslaught could not
be allowed to dissipate by dispersal - it had to be controlled for the greatest effect.
The herd thundered on, goaded by the mad screams of the herders. Two miles
of uncontrollable Picun flesh, with a solid phalanx behind the leaders, all of five miles
deep, surged on towards the Encampment. It was an awesome weapon directed at the
heart of Eridos.
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CHAPTER 24
One of Eridos' characteristics, which in any other circumstances, would have
made him a great war leader, was that he never left anything to chance. He had
reckoned with a surprise attack on his Encampment from the rear. He had posted a
thousand men between it and the open desert. Another of his habitual arrangements
was to move the women and children out of harm's way, if there was any possibility
of a skirmish with the enemy. On this occasion, he had placed them in the care of
another five hundred men, well inland from the potential battlefield. He was left with
another thousand men in the camp. These would be the first assault wave against
Obeid, whilst the rearguard - his reserves, he would call upon when tactics demanded
it.
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Obeid had two thousand men at his immediate command. Hammadi led
another five hundred. Obeid disdained to take the elementary precaution of
safeguarding his women and children. They remained in the war camp under the
protection of a few older men. Obeid had a few patrols watching his rear. If the
necessity arose, he could split his force and take care of a two pronged attack.
If the truth was faced, there hadn't been a battle for a long time. There had
been much talk of battle, old men reflected on bygone glories and stratagems, which
had been fought out originally and inconclusively, many centuries earlier. The
strategies had been exaggerated and the outcomes falsified to be great victories. It
suited the recollections of the ancients, but owed little to the truth. Eridos and Obeid
had not fought a pitched battle for nearly three and a half thousand years. There had
been small skirmishes between their herders. It was usually as a result of one side
encroaching upon the grazing preserves of the other. For the most part, they had
respected unofficial boundaries and had contented themselves with lurid threats.
Kane elected to remain within the meagre shelter of the Arch. Theoretically, it
promised to be in the epicentre of the battlefield, but he sensed that it was still the
safest place for him to be - and the one place where he could be sure that the Psi Gate
could be opened if he looked about to be overwhelmed. If there was going to be a
battle - and he acknowledged that he seemed powerless to prevent it - he could see no
useful purpose in getting himself killed. On the other hand, he saw no reason to
become directly involved. There would come a time when sanity returned and that
would be the moment for Quetzal to make his move.
Nuraghe had been assigned to the rearguard. He wasn't very impressed to be
singled out for a duty which would keep him out of the forefront of the battle. It so
happened, that he was the one who noticed the great pall of purple dust, which was
being raised by the stampeding herds. He watched it for a few minutes, not quite sure
what was happening and then decided that the herders must have lost control and
needed extra manpower. He rode out with the rearguard in the direction of the dust
cloud.
His thousand men fanned out and began to turn the herd and then he saw the
grey cloaks on each flank. They saw as well, the bloated size of the herd and knew
that they wouldn't be able to stop it. Those directly in the path, wheeled their Picun
and ran for their lives before the frenzied beasts. The remainder tried to attack the
grey cloaks on each flank. It was an unequal fight, Nuraghe and his men were
disorganised, some were driven back into the herd to meet the fate of their unfortunate
brothers. Short, sharp fights with the sword, from the backs of their rearing beasts,
produced inevitable casualties on both sides.
The first of the fleeing rearguard brought the news to Eridos. He was already
mounted, ready for the first assault. He looked behind the messengers at the sea of
animals hurtling towards him and did the only thing possible. They ran before them
and surged over the rise which separated the Encampment from the Arch. Kane
crouched down against the inner face and was ignored. A thousand men swept by on
their way to Obeid's camp. He wasn't quite prepared for the sight of thousands of
Picun, surging like a tidal wave, behind them. The remnants of Eridos' Encampment
were skewered on their horns or trailed from their hooves. There were also pulped and
bloody remnants, from which he turned his eyes.
Where the funnel of land narrowed near the Arch, some Picun were forced by
weight of numbers to splash into the ocean. The hideous shapes of the Krain started to
rear up from the shallows. The scene was utter carnage. The Picun screamed in
frenzied terror as they were trapped, writhing in the embrace of tentacles, whilst
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suckered mouths tore at their flesh and great gouts of blood squirted from torn throats
and bellies.
The rest of the herd surged on and Kane was forced to climb desperately, he
barely escaped the thrashing hooves, as he clambered up the outside of the Arch.
Hammadi had unleashed a devil he couldn't control. The herd ran on, spurred now, by
the sound of their dying kind and the smell of blood.
They ran full tilt into the mass of men who were hacking each other to pieces
in front of the camp of Obeid. Thoughts of battle were abandoned as they turned to
face the new threat. Groups of fighting men lost cohesion, but here and there, fierce
skirmishes continued between a hundred or more die-hards, who refused to be
deterred by the stampede.
The mob of Picun was losing momentum but there was still enough to wreck
the Encampment of Obeid. His folly in allowing Hammadi to have his way, soon
became apparent, especially when the cost was counted afterwards. Hand-to-hand
fighting continued. They fought for hours, until there was no strength left - and still
they fought. The men around each of the leaders were the strongest. They were the
Body Companions, dedicated to the protection of their Lords. It was upon them, that
the battle focused.
It was inevitable that in the end, it had to come down to a man-to-man fight
between Obeid and Eridos. In the final analysis, it was really what the Division was
about. The hatred between the two had festered for the long days of their lives. It had
been instilled into them in infancy by bitter fathers who were brothers and like so
many brothers, had detested each other.
Obeid faced Eridos, both were still strong despite the exertions of the battle.
With one movement, they discarded the tatters of their Kous and began to circle each
other. Nothing was said, they gripped their short swords more tightly and probed for
an opening. Kane scrambled down from his vantage point and in so doing, lost the
remainder of his Kous. He hardly noticed and ignored the possibility of fatal exposure
to the blistering heat. It made him anonymous, it didn't pay to be identified with either
side.
The fighting had stopped, he pushed through a ring of silent, sweating
warriors, who waited in anticipation as their leaders moved slowly around each other,
looking for an opening. Black cloak and grey cloak stood side by side, their own
private battles over. The outcome between the leaders would decide all. The time of
Division and Enmity was coming to an end. Quetzal had said so. Some of them
recognised him but they made no move against him.
Kane saw Hammadi in the front rank across the circle. He looked wild-eyed
and strained. Kane sensed it wasn't only the outcome of the battle, or even the fight
between Eridos and Obeid - there was something else. He was distracted by Obeid
making the first lunge and then stepping back quickly as Eridos retaliated with the
speed of a snake. They took to circling each other again, looking for the one small
opening which would give one or the other the edge. They grew tired of the dance and
closed again. Their swords clashed against each other in a flurry of blows and parries.
Their naked bodies ran with sweat and the dust they kicked up, caked their lower legs
in a purple film.
Obeid drew first blood. He had lunged and Eridos had not been quite quick
enough. A thin line of blood trickled down his flank, he ignored it. Obeid grinned in
grim triumph and took a tighter, more confident grip on his sword. Eridos didn't take
his eyes off him.
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Kane knew the way it would have to end - there could be no other way than
that which satisfied the purposes of the Masters of Psi. Eridos would have to be the
victor. He was something more than just the warlord of a tribe of semi-savages who
had once been a great and scientific people. Eridos was his Brother of the Image.
Eridos was destined to leave Jubal in his company. The Masters of Psi would not
allow Obeid to survive.
And so it was!
They drew blood from each other in a series of parries and feints. The crowd
was silent, tense but there was a degree of fatalism. There were no shouts of
encouragement for one man or the other. The inevitable result came when Eridos
slipped and measured his length in the dust. Obeid pounced, his fine, lean body coiled
for the final thrust through the heart. He was too eager, as he plunged downward with
his blade, Eridos rolled sideways in a desperate effort to avoid the descending blade,
at the same time, he thrust his own sword upward.
Obeid gave a gasping scream as he impaled himself on the weapon. His body
arched as it sliced through his stomach and pierced the back wall of rigid muscle.
Kane would never forget the agonised grimace of utter disbelief, followed by bitter
hatred, in the moment before he died. Even in the paroxysm of death, he tried to put
an end to his enemy, but it was only a reflex action of his muscles. He fell across
Eridos, who was pinned down by the weight.
A thin, wailing scream arose from somewhere near the back of the crowd.
Ajanta stood utterly still and looked down at the body of her brother, then she stared
at Hammadi. He was already moving, jumping forward into the circle with sword
drawn. There was no mistaking his intentions.
"Stop! Quetzal commands you!"
Kane stepped forward and wondered who the hell he thought he was to
intervene in an act of vengeance, but Quetzal assumed command. Hammadi didn't
stop, he seemed out of control. He pulled the body of his uncle from the winded form
of Eridos and put his sword to the older man's throat. Eridos stared at him calmly.
Kane had the impression that he didn't care whether he lived or died. Quetzal said
acidly.
"Do you have the way of cowards on Jubal?"
The gathering rumble of reawakened hostility between the two sides was
muted. Kane went on.
"Eridos won the battle fairly. Obeid killed himself by falling on the sword. I
thought Hammadi was a man of honour. Is it the way of the People of the Ship to kill
their own fathers when they are helpless?"
The murmur in the crowd increased. Kane knew his words were carrying to
every ear. Hammadi hesitated but he didn't remove his sword.
"Eridos has acknowledged you as his son. Confirm it, Eridos!"
There was silence again and they waited for the fallen leader to answer. Eridos
stared into the bitter face of the man he called his son. For a moment, Kane thought he
would not speak.
"Hammadi is my son! Go ahead, my son. Kill me if you must. I gave you life,
you can take mine. Revenge your mother!"
Hammadi didn't release the pressure. Kane heard Ajanta sobbing. Hammadi
rasped.
"You will never live in peace with me. If I let you live now, there will come
the day when you will try to kill me. Why should I give you that opportunity?"
Quetzal intervened.
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"Eridos will not remain with you. I, Quetzal, claim him for the Masters of Psi.
He will leave with me when their purposes are satisfied. Think, Hammadi. He has
acknowledged you as his son. You are the product of the union between Eridos and
Ajanta. In you, you carry the inheritance of the reunion of the People of the Ship. In
you, the Division and the Enmity is at an end. The Ship will come soon. I counsel you
to let him live. He will no longer rule a half-tribe. You will rule the whole tribe! Give
him to the Masters of Psi - and be careful that you do not resist those who must be
obeyed!"
Hammadi stared down at Eridos, the gaze was returned without wavering.
"Is that the way it is to be? Will you stay with Quetzal?"
Eridos didn't answer, then he seemed to relax. He looked suddenly weary, as if
he was tired of the whole business. He smiled slightly.
"Why not, my son?"
Hammadi removed his sword slowly and Kane breathed a ragged sigh of
relief. Eridos picked himself up and looked down at the body of his enemy. There was
no expression of victory or accomplishment. He looked around and picked up a grey
cloak, this he placed over the corpse. He walked over to Kane and stood by his side,
he said nothing. Hammadi looked around the ring of silent observers.
"From this day, there will no longer be black cloaks or grey cloaks. Quetzal,
the Lord of the Flock, has decreed that we shall all wear a cloak which is undyed - a
white cloak. This will be a sign between us that there is no longer a Division and that
the Enmity has ended. The two camps will mingle, no longer will there be the camp of
Eridos and the camp of Obeid. There will be one camp and one herd. Let us attend to
the injured and bury the dead."
It was a fine speech, there was no great acclaim. The crowd started to disperse,
talking quietly amongst themselves. The heat had gone out of them, the death of
Obeid and the stripping of authority from Eridos was more than enough to assimilate
at that moment. The former enemies looked at each other without friendship. It would
take time. Hammadi and Eridos remained. They looked at each other like strangers.
Hammadi turned to Kane, his voice was bitter.
"Thank you for reminding me that I am my father's son. This battle has
brought us no victories, the cost has been heavy. Eridos may have killed Obeid, but I
saw that as inevitable. One of them had to die! Your Masters have decreed that Eridos
should live. As you said, Obeid slipped and fell on the sword himself. As for myself, I
have gained no victory. I might now be called Tepe Hammadi, the Lord of the People
of the Ship, but I no longer have anyone with which to share the honour. I unleashed
the herds as a weapon against Eridos, but it became a weapon I could not control. My
woman was crushed to death, when they trampled the tents of Obeid!"
He lapsed into silence and Kane could find nothing to say to him. Eridos
observed quietly.
"We all have to pay the price, it seems. That is the true obscenity of the
Division and the Enmity. The final obscenity of conflict is that no one wins. There is
always a cost, even for the victor. I say this to you, Hammadi. If you want to be leader
and to stay the leader, you must be prepared to pay the price. There is no glory in
being a leader or ruler. You always know that somewhere there is someone who wants
you dead, so that they can take your glorious position. When they achieve it, there is
nothing but ashes."
Hammadi looked at him without warmth, as one who would speculate about a
stranger.
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"You have called me your son, but I do not call you my father. If your seed
germinated my life, then I have you in me and that I would find unclean! I tell you
now, you are not my father. Quetzal is my father! His seed gave me life, not yours.
Will you accept this as the price of your victory?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Men had come to carry away the corpse of
Obeid. Ajanta was with them, she ignored Eridos. Together with her son, she walked
behind the party of sombre faced bearers. Eridos said almost to himself.
"Does it matter? Does it matter if it was you or me? It is over, one of us gave
Hammadi life. Obeid reared him as his son, perhaps that makes Obeid his father more
than either of us."
They stood alone, Kane didn't answer. He pointed to the weeping slit in Eridos'
side.
"We should look after that."
Eridos looked at him and smiled grimly.
"We make a strange combination, the mighty Quetzal and the deposed Tepe -
and now, you want to act as my nursemaid!"
They left the field of carnage through the corpses of the fallen and walked
slowly back to the Arch. It was the only place left to them, Kane sensed that neither
would be welcome in the Encampment of Hammadi.
"What happens now?
He sounded mildly curious, detached, almost remote.
"For them, the Ship will come."
He applied a salve of the foul smelling ointment to the wound. Eridos winced
at the sting of it.
"And us?"
"We wait until the Masters move us."
"Or we wait until the planet blows apart around us!"
They were interrupted by the arrival of another visitor. Nuraghe limped into
view from the direction of Eridos' old camp. He was torn and tattered and wore a strip
of black cloth around a wound on his head. He dropped to his knees before Eridos. He
murmured abjectly.
"I have come to receive your wrath, Tepe Eridos."
Eridos looked bemused, a smile filtered across his face. He said to the world at
large.
"Ironic isn't it? I still have one who will kneel to me and wait for my
punishment."
Nuraghe looked startled and looked up into Eridos' eyes.
"Very well, I will punish you! I acknowledge you as my son! Your father is
deposed and worthless and soon, you will never see him again! You are my son! Make
the most of it whilst you can! Now, go to Hammadi and tell him. Tell him also, that I
hope he will be a good brother to you, not like Tursac and Siyulk, who fought with
each other and taught their sons to do so until this day, until I killed my cousin! Now
go, my son!"
He permitted Nuraghe to embrace him and then the young man turned shyly to
Kane.
"I have been pleased to serve you, Lord Quetzal."
"I would have liked the circumstances to be different. If it could have been
otherwise, I think we could have been friends. I hope you find the same with
Hammadi."
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They clasped each other in an embrace. Eridos smiled sardonically as Nuraghe
limped out of sight.
"I wonder if we will ever be friends, Kane Ashford. Somehow, I doubt it!"
The Bole interjected. Kane jolted into alertness. Eridos' lips tightened. Kane
eyed the metal cube, it appeared to have suffered no damage during the onslaught of
crazed Picun.
"My sensors record the imminent departure of the Ship from its present coordinates."
Kane and Eridos limped to the rise of ground which surrounded the Arch on
three sides. They were witnesses to the marvellous sight of the Ship rising from its
distant nest. It was monstrous, a great, bloated, shimmering spheroid, which had
expanded under his command and had made itself ready to evacuate the People of
Jubal. From their vantage point, they could see the reaction of the tribesmen. They fell
in awe to their faces, as it glided towards them and then hovered over their heads. It
filled the sky and cast an immense shadow on to the plain.
It landed gently, hardly disturbing the crust of the surface. Eridos let out a
jagged breath and his jaw muscles tightened into knots. For a moment, Kane thought
that he might repudiate his agreement and try to board her. He knew the Masters
would not allow it. Eridos must have known too. He contented himself with watching
the embarkation.
Hammadi had a tight control of the herd and the people. A steady stream of
white clad figures walked through the perimeter skin of the Ship. They were
swallowed through the force field. The Picun were led through another area. They
were a little more trouble, but this was solved by the herders leading them, one by
one, until they were all safely aboard. In the end, two figures remained, otherwise, the
plain was empty, except for the great bulk of the Ship.
Even from the distance, Kane and Eridos could see that it was Hammadi and
Nuraghe. The two brothers lifted their hands in a final salute. Kane already sensed
that the distance between them was something more than the few kilometres of the red
plain. They would never meet again. The people of Jubal were now the People of the
Ship in the fullest sense of the phrase. Kane glanced at Eridos, his face was impassive,
the only sign of emotion being the familiar tightening of the jaw muscles.
They watched as the two brothers walked into the side of the Ship and were
swallowed within. It took them time to find their way to the great open platform of the
control room. Kane could visualise their progress through the Ship, perhaps pausing
here and there to reassure or advise those who were no more than simple herders and
who were now transported into an environment they couldn't even have imagined in
their dreams.
The Ship began to rise, vast, silent, destination unknown. It was beyond the
business of the two solitary figures who remained. It rose swiftly, decreasing in size
rapidly, until the tiny speck disappeared.
"So, now we are alone, Kane Ashford. The only two left."
"There's still one other, Eridos - Urartu. He told me he would remain in his
cavern until the floor burst under him and he was overwhelmed by fire!"
"And what about those who tended the fields around the Crag Caverns?"
"I don't know, perhaps they stayed also - or maybe, Urartu sent them to Obeid
and they went on the Ship."
"I am surprised that you admit to things you do not know, my great, Lord
Quetzal!"
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CHAPTER 25
The light of the red star glinted on the Pentacle around Kane's neck. The man
whose image it carried, walked with him back to the Arch. Eridos had said that there
could be no stranger union than that which existed between them, born as it was, out
of thousands of years of hatred. They reached the Arch and the Bole. It was the one
familiar thing which remained of his original life. The Masters of Psi were in full
command. The inner man had fulfilled his and their purpose in that the Ship was gone
and with it, the rescued people of the two Gens who had become one. Eridos voiced
Kane's unspoken question.
"Well, O great Lord Quetzal, what happens now?"
"We wait!"
His Companion of the Image didn't press the question, perhaps it was as well.
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It became obvious that the Ship had left with little time to spare. Even as they
settled down to rest after the exhausting exertions of the hours which had passed, the
air seemed to grow colder. They shrouded themselves in discarded black Kous and
sheltered in the Arch.
Eridos shook him awake and pointed to the red giant. It had belched out a
great finger of incandescence. The ground under them shook with greater ferocity and
as the hours passed, there were times when they feared that the Arch would fall.
Eridos repeated his question with greater frequency.
"What happens now?"
"I don't know! We wait!"
When he awoke after his second sleep, Eridos was staring morosely skyward.
The red giant was ruptured, it would never resume its oblate shape. Beyond it was a
halo of whiteness. The usual red of the sky had turned into a lurid pearl-pink. The
ground heaved under them, the Arch trembled and Eridos glared at him, his question
unspoken.
The red star was splitting apart, but the planet was still viable. They built a fire
in the open, close to the shore. They scavenged for food in the devastation of the two
camps. There was precious little, mostly hardtack which looked as if it had been
trampled into the ground under the hooves of the stampede.
Kane stood looking out over the black ocean, the water was receding. Eridos
sat slumped within his Kous, trying to keep the fierce wind from creeping into the
heavy cloak. The nightline was creeping closer, slowly advancing towards the Arch.
They couldn't retreat before it, it was imperative that they stayed close to the Psi Gate.
Kane looked up at the red rock from which it was formed. Red, like everything else
on Jubal and as red as the varicosed star which was bursting open with the approach
of its white dwarf companion.
The White One still remained hidden behind the red giant, but the attraction of
its impacted matter was sucking the heart out of it. Its flank had burst open and a great
belch of incandescent gas had been drawn out into a permanent flare. It was a
prominence which no longer dropped back as it had at first. The attraction was too
great. It stretched out like a great finger, pointing to the hidden menace, like a
warning to tell them that it would appear all too soon for the men who had remained
behind on Jubal.
Eridos glared into the sand, the wind stirred the purple grains so that they
drifted towards the black ocean in rivulets of fine dust. He had been a fool to trust
Quetzal. He turned to glare at his companion. Kane seemed impervious to the look,
but he was aware - Quetzal was aware, his mind tuned to that of his Companion of the
Image. He knew that the gathering hatred was just under the surface. He wondered
how long it would be before there was a showdown.
He continued to look out over the ocean and visualised what it was like far
beyond the horizon. The white dwarf would be exerting its influence in another way.
The ocean was gathering in a great dome, drawn back from the shoreline. On the far
side of the planet, the frozen ocean and atmosphere was being dragged under the
superheated sky, where it was thawing. The whole surface of the planet was being
torn out of shape, as the plates of the continents were lifted above the surging core
tides of the internal sea of magma.
Urartu had confirmed it. The planet had escaped many times before, to barely
recover from the tumult of the coming of the Companion. This time, it would not
survive, it would be torn apart, it would erupt into a torch of cosmic fury. He stirred
restlessly, conscious of the relentless antagonism of the other man. The Kane Ashford
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part of his psyche wondered if perhaps Eridos had been correct, they should have
gone in the Ship, whilst they still had the chance. The opportunity had passed.
He looked up into the sky, almost expecting the Ship to reappear to rescue
them. He wondered if Hammadi was watching from some safe distance, waiting for
Jubal to erupt into hell. It would be like him to do something like that, keeping the
Ship in the star system. He might even contemplate a rescue mission, but he could not
know that they were still marooned on Jubal. Hammadi would not hazard the Ship
and those who remained of the People of the Two Tribes.
Kane watched the Sentinels streaming across the sky. They maintained their
distance from each other. They were like the companion who sat aloof from him on
the other side of the fire. He wondered if the great birds hated as vehemently as
Eridos. There was supposed to be an affinity between the People of Jubal and the
Sentinels. He remembered Dagh - or was it Motya - who had told him of the
superstition that when one of the People of Jubal died, a Sentinel was supposed to
come into being. He looked at Eridos, he was huddled in his Kous, in unconscious
imitation of one of the great birds at roost. The Sentinels never came into physical
contact one with another, but they possessed the Flock Mind, which linked them as if
they had one brain.
The Time of Migration had come for them. The approach of the white dwarf
had triggered the instinctive urge to take flight. They had been streaming across the
sky incessantly during the days which had led up to the battle. They fled from the
appearance of the white dwarf. Putting the greatest possible distance between them
and it, before it emerged from behind the eclipsing red giant. In previous migrations,
the oceans had risen and had scoured across the land and had swept away every
vestige of the previous cycle. Storms had screamed across the skies and the great
birds would have used their last strength to battle the super cyclonic winds.
In previous times, they had remained aloft, waiting for the turn of the cycle,
when the white dwarf would recede and the oceans would return to their beds and the
land would become dry. This time, it would be different. The Sentinels would never
enter the period of their life cycle when they would settle on the newly uncovered and
dried out land. Never again, would they produce their own kind. They would cease to
be, just as the planet would cease to be - and the Flock Mind would be lost for ever.
Quetzal thought otherwise. They were his Flock and their mind was his! To the
Masters of Psi, the physical form was of little consequence. It was the sentient mind
which could not be allowed to die! The seeding of intelligence throughout the worlds,
was the basis of their plan. It had always been their objective to take raw, base stock
and implant it with sentience,. Once, they had come to the raw avian stock of Jubal
and had implanted the Flock Mind. Now it was threatened and it was Quetzal who had
the task to rescue the Mind of his Flock.
"Tell me how much longer we are to sit here?"
"Until we are taken."
"I always knew you were a sentimental fool, Kane Ashford! You always
trusted a little too easily. You didn't learn in my school. I soon realised that the only
one I could trust was myself! Except for this one occasion - I broke my own rule and
listened to you. I can only blame myself for listening to your slick tongue!"
Kane didn't answer him. There was no purpose and to argue took too much
energy. Energy was in short supply. The food was gone and the heat of the fire hardly
kept the biting wind from freezing them to the spot. What remained of the herds of
Picun, those which could not be rounded up to go with the Ship, had long since
scattered. In any case, none would come close to the ocean, they could smell the
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Krain. Kane doubted if their combined strength could have brought one down, even if
one had strayed close.
Eridos raised his hand and pointed at the star. Kane followed his finger. The
red giant was becoming easier to look at directly. It was old and it glowed like a red
hot coal rather than with the eye-scorching dazzle of a younger star. He had to look
through the Arch to see it. Its rough shape framed it, hovering on the ocean horizon.
The great finger of the flare was curling back, as if it was beckoning something
beyond. They watched in silence, as another flare burst out of the same quadrant. The
surface was coming apart like an erupting boil and its contents were escaping the
gravitational pull at an incredible speed. The new prominence wavered and dropped
back in a curve, for a moment creating the impression of another arch. Beyond it,
something incredibly brilliant started to show through the red haze of escaping gas,
turning it pearl-pink. A slither of hard brilliance slithered into view from behind the
red giant. Kane whispered.
"Zayez!"
"Your Masters won't help you, neither will your gods if you have any - any
more than mine!"
They were united for once, watching the impending disaster, spell-bound.
Eridos murmured.
"It's a pity that we'll never be able to boast of this sight."
Kane glanced at him briefly, there was a slight smile on his Eridos' lips. It was
almost as if he was welcoming the coming of the Dwarf.
"We're witnessing the death of a world. We're seeing something which has
never been seen by human eyes on this planet. Only the Sentinels have seen it - but
not men. It's ironic, my clever Quetzal, that we shall never get the chance to tell
anyone about it. Laugh! It's poetic justice! The mighty Quetzal can't beat the odds!
His fabulous luck has finally run out!"
.....
In the Cave of the Wraiths, sat the one man who had remained to await the
end. He had sent his attendants and the cultivators away, so that they could join the
great movement of Obeid and his Gens when they had passed on their way to the final
confrontation. The Cave was hot, much more so than it had ever been in the past. The
vapour which spurted from the fissures scattered around the floor was now scalding.
He sat in the midst of it and knew that he had little time left for the final act.
The brazier still flared, he had allowed it to remain. It was hardly capable of
driving back the vapours which threatened to engulf his ancient frame. He sat bolt
upright, willing himself to maintain the ten thousand year old carcass for a few
moments longer.
He had fashioned yet another dream/vision, as he had done repeatedly during
the events of the previous hours. He smiled as he realised he had used the
measurement of Kane Ashford. The man within whom Quetzal lived featured in the
vision. Eridos was with him and they both stared into the emerging white glare of the
White Dwarf as it sat on the limb of the Red Giant.
Urartu's face glistened with sweat, he could hardly draw the necessary breath
to sustain the old body. It wasn't only steam which was emerging from the fissures.
Now the deadly, sulphurous fumes which spewed up from the magma bed of the old
volcano, were permeating the steam-filled room.
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With his remaining strength, Urartu stood. It was time to leave the old carcass
to the consuming flames. He had told the truth on the last visit Quetzal had paid to the
cavern. Urartu would not leave the Cave Of the Wraiths, he would remain until the
floor burst under him and the place would be flooded with molten rock. Urartu would
remain, but he who lived within him. He who had shared his form in recent days,
would not be there to share in that fiery end.
Urartu fumbled with the knot of his Kous, it dropped to the floor and his body
shrank from the impact of the acidic air. He wore only one thing under his Kous.
Something he had carried with him from the time of the journeys between the stars. A
Pentacle gleamed in the flickering light of the brazier.
The ground rocked under him. The ancient plug of the old volcanic system
was rattling loose. It could be only a matter of seconds. Urartu straightened up, his
inner man assumed the ultimate control. He smiled and walked forward to embrace
one of the scalding jets of steam. The agony was brief, the old body arched for a
second and was tossed aside by the surge of gases and then, the ultimate eruption of
molten rock which flooded the cave system.
The inner man was free. He looked for a brief moment, at the ancient form he
had occupied and then moved in space and time through the channels of the Psi,
before coming to rest close to the great Arch, the Psi Gate through which Quetzal and
Eridos had thought to leave. He had no such constraint. He was no longer encumbered
with a physical form. Psi Gates were for those who were. He smiled, he would steal
Quetzal's Flock from under his nose!
He could touch their Mind. It was one of the more impressive creative works
of Zayez, Harma, Hella and Quetzal. It had been part of his creativity also. Now, there
was only the two of them to roam the Empire of Psi. The Lord of Many Names, who
was now Quetzal - and himself, also known by many names. Here, on Jubal, he was
Sharta! He allowed a surge of humour within himself. Quetzal had been so
submerged, so preoccupied with the petty problems his alter ego, Kane Ashford had
created, that he had never suspected the greatest irony of all. His friend Urartu had
housed the eternal enemy.
He focused his mind into the Flock Mind and called to them. He gazed up as
they fled across the sky in a fruitless effort to escape the lethal approach of the White
Dwarf. They could not escape, but he could tune into the instinctive determination
which drove them. He poured a strong counter thought into them.
"I am Sharta, I was one who fabricated your ways. I have come to save you,
for you cannot flee from the coming of the Companion as you have done in the past. I
will give you another way."
The Flock Mind responded.
"Who is Sharta? Sharta is the enemy. Quetzal is the Master of the Flock."
"Sharta is your friend. Has Quetzal spoken to you as I have spoken to you? He
has ignored you and he is soon to abandon you to your fate. I will lead you into safety.
I will be one with you!"
He watched the continued flight across the sky. The Flock Mind was silent. He
waited.
"You say that you are our friend. Quetzal is our friend, you are the enemy."
"I speak to you and offer you safety. Has Quetzal spoken to you, even though
you know he is present and stands close to the Great Arch. He has only thoughts of his
own escape. Touch his mind and see if I tell the truth. I will lead you to safety. There
is little time, you must make your choice."
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.....
Eridos laughed softly, Kane realised he was enjoying the indecision.
"It has to be now, mighty Quetzal!"
"It will be at the right time."
Eridos snarled an unintelligible reply and shrouded himself within his Kous,
drawing up the hood to hide his face. It was like someone settling down for death.
Quetzal had remained dormant but now, he began to rise rapidly to the surface, as if in
response to the appearing of the Companion.
"So, you are here Sharta?"
The hood on Eridos' Kous dropped back, he stared at him without a word.
Kane had dropped his cloak, disregarding the cold. He had turned and was
facing into the desert. Eridos got to his feet slowly. He felt a surge of apprehension,
the Kane Ashford he had hated was gone, he could sense the difference. This man was
cold, calculating, in command - and he was now facing something Eridos could not
see.
"Who is there?"
"Sharta!"
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Eridos felt real fear. Quetzal called into
the desert.
"Do you come to me, or must I come to you?"
There was a strengthening of the icy wind, nothing more. Quetzal grabbed the
Bole in one hand and started to climb up the slope towards the wind swept Schwarm.
Eridos followed, he wasn't sure why. As they came to the crest of the rise, they could
see the distant figure, standing in the centre of an area where the herd had scoured the
land bare during their stampede. Eridos glanced skyward, there was something else.
The Sentinels were faltering in their flight, no longer did they stream in one direction
in an obstinate battle with the cyclonic winds, now they were changing the habits of
millennia, they were starting to swirl into a descending funnel, whose narrow opening
was centred on the distant figure.
Quetzal was already striding down the far side of the dune, threading his way
through what remained of the Schwarm, he seemed oblivious of the shattered
branches whipping his flesh during the transit. Eridos hastened after him, his Kous
becoming entangled and finally wrenched from his shoulders. They reached the
solitary man as the first of the great birds settled on to the plain a hundred meters
distant. The sky became dark with black shapes, as one after the other, they overcame
the distaste of coming into such close proximity and assembled in a great colony
around the leaders who were doing battle for their Flock Mind.
Quetzal addressed his brother Master of Psi and his eternal enemy.
"So, Sharta, we meet once more. I wondered when you would show your face
on Jubal. Now, it seems, you want to steal away my Flock. You feed them your
perpetual diet of lies and half-truths, but they know whose Flock they are and they
will not respond to your voice."
Sharta was smiling and shrugged.
"It would seem that they have heard my voice, Quetzal, my brother. Has there
ever been a time when they came so close to each other, or when they abandoned their
Migration to assemble on the plain?"
Eridos looked at the casual figure, he felt he knew him but he could think of
no circumstances where they had met. Sharta turned to him and smiled. It was a warm
and genial expression.
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"So, my dear brother, you have found another of your Companions of the
Image. What a farce Zayez, Hella and Harma have devised for your eternal blundering
around the galaxy! I greet you, Eridos, Lord of the Black Cloaks and hated enemy of
Quetzal - we should be friends, in this, we share common ground!"
Eridos nodded and said nothing.
"As taciturn as ever, Eridos. Small wonder Urartu found you so difficult to
approach."
"What do you know of Urartu?"
Eridos exploded despite himself. Sharta laughed softly.
"You have wondered: 'Where do I know him?' Am I so hard to recognise,
Eridos?"
The voice was Urartu's. Eridos stared at him without answering. Sharta turned
to Quetzal.
"I see that you have a Companion who will contribute a little steel to your
elect company. Now, brother, will you fight me for your Flock - or will you exchange
them for this?"
He taunted Quetzal with the Pentacle, knowing that his brother had seen it
from the moment they had met.
"Neither, Sharta. The choice is yours, if I fight you now for the Flock, it will to
be the death and I will prevail. We both know it! I will take the Pentacle from your
dead body."
Sharta mocked him.
"From a body which no longer exists - from a phantasm?"
"You know that I will do so!"
Sharta hesitated and then shrugged.
"Have it your way - we will fight another day - and then we shall see who will
prevail, Quetzal!"
His form lost definition and suddenly was gone, in its place, the Pentacle lay
in the sand. Quetzal picked it up and stared at the image. The florid, muscular features
of a young man gazed back at him. He was in the familiar position of having his arms,
legs and head attuned to the five points of the Pentagram. There was no time to
examine it further, Quetzal looked at his silent Flock. The composite mind was quiet,
they were waiting. He swung around and faced the emerging Dwarf. It stood clear,
bathing them all with deadly radiation.
Quetzal allowed the Psi power to surge up to its full measure. He removed the
Pentacle with the image of Eridos from his neck and silently extended it to him.
Eridos hesitated and then allowed him to place it around his neck. Quetzal took that
which had fallen to the purple dust with the departure of Sharta and looped it around
his own neck.
He looked straight into the heart of the Companion star. An annulus had
formed around the White Dwarf, which occupied the heart of a long, nebulous tunnel.
Its end touched Jubal, encompassed the Great Arch, the Flock, the Bole and the two
men. Quetzal stretched out his free hand to his Companion of the Image and Eridos
took it without hesitation.
They were gone, moments before Jubal finally lost its battle with the White
Dwarf and erupted into a fireball of incandescence.
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170