01 Taxilas Children

TAXILA'S CHILDREN
whether it had survived in the vortex with him. He looked with revulsion, at the naked man
framed in the central pentagon and then down to what Jabez had done. A small animal was
laid out in a carefully arranged posture. It had been skewered through the heart by a small
dagger. Around it were fruits and berries.
It took all his remaining strength to get back to bed. He wondered if he was going to make
it, desperation drove him. It would have been more than embarrassing to be found helpless on
the kitchen floor, or prostrate before the sacrifice. Suddenly, he felt afraid - confronted by an
alien mind and culture.
He had spent most of the morning creeping about the house. Their star was already high in
a cloudless sky, as he passed the window again on the way back to his bed. He paused for a
moment to recover his breath and take in the view. It was as still as before, the only
movement being a breath of air stirring the tree tops. It was no longer quite so beautiful.
He fell on to the bed in a muck sweat. His heart was pounding from all the exertion. He
ought to be exalting that having set himself an assignment, he had been victorious but all he
could see was the still, small furry thing that had given up its life to satisfy the superstitious
need of a superior species. He was so exhausted that he fell asleep and didn't waken again
until the light was growing dim. He could hear Caela clattering around in the room beyond
the curtain, a room that was no longer a mystery. He wondered if she had had any part in the
sacrifice.
She brought in the lamp shortly after and beamed down at him. He forced himself to
respond in the way she expected. The exertion had done him good, he felt ready for anything
- well, almost anything. She bustled out of the room again and the clatter of the utensils
resumed. He sat back against the wall and planned his next move. It was more important than
ever to get mobile and he wanted to explore the outside - that would be the next excursion.
He resolved not to revisit the room of sacrifice and tried to reassure himself that it was their
business and their custom.
Caela returned with his meal and they engaged in their little ritual. He began to doubt the
wisdom of it when she seized his hand and began to kiss it fervently. The last thing he could
afford was the complication of an irate husband, especially when he couldn't move fast
enough to get out of his way. He decided to cool the situation, slowly and gently, so as not to
hurt her feelings. He hoped that their nasty habits with knives didn't extend to those suspected
of adultery.
Caela's unsuspecting spouse made his usual call a little later than usual. He looked as
genial as ever and Steve tried not to look guilty about something he hadn't yet done. He
wondered how far the searching of his mind extended and how much Jabez knew of his
wandering.
"My Lord is looking considerably better. Each day that passes, increases my Lord's
strength."
Steve had to agree with his servant's judgement, at least Jabez sounded genial and
approving. Steve wished that he would cut out all the flowery nonsense and get down to
calling him by his name. That was another problem, Jabez had got it firmly into his head that
his name was hyphenated. Apparently, the concept of a first name separated from a last name,
didn't exist in their society. To him, he was 'My Lord Steve-Holt'. It sounded like the
measurement of something: 'The meter measures ten Steve-Holts'.
"If my Lord pleases, I have a teacher who will endeavour to explain the concepts of our
language. My Lord may remember that he requested this."
He gazed at Steve anxiously, as if he wasn't quite sure whether he was dealing with a
moron who couldn't remember what he said from one day to the next. Steve suppressed
thoughts of irritation.
"Please bring in the man you have chosen."
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