by Luke Donegan
“No. The Teacher is dying. He is too weak to do this.”
Erys gripped the boy’s shoulder. It was a motion of affirmation, of camaraderie. But inside he was standing on the brink of an abyss, and he needed the support.
“This is something I will do myself.”
He left the young Curator at the entrance to the dome. So it was done. He was set on a course. There were just a few things he needed to do before leaping into the wind.
The animist looked up from the microscope as Erys entered.
“I’m busy, Scion-Teacher,” he said as Erys approached.
“Gregor, we need to talk?”
“Not now.” The animist shuffled with discomfort.
Who is this man? thought Erys. Where did he come from, and are there others like him? How long lived is he? Do he and Saskareth share a special understanding of the world?
“Gregor,” he said, “when I was in the desert with the Umawari, I experienced something that changed me forever. Do you remember when I left here to go to Sydon? Before the zeppelin crash? Well, I did not know if I was going to return. Part of me was running away. From the Ark. I was ... afraid of the responsibility. I was scared of failure.”
The Taxidermist stepped back and faced him.
“I am not interested in what you have to say.”
“I know. But I am going to tell you anyway.”
The Taxidermist leaned back against the table and crossed his arms.
“Partly it was because I did not understand what we were striving for,” persisted Erys. “For us, for humans, Nature is unfathomable. But when I went to the desert, the emu people gave me a wonderful gift, an understanding of what it is to live in a natural world, to be closer to Spirit. I felt I understood Nature for the first time. I knew finally what it was that we were fighting for. So I came back.”
He paused. The Taxidermist avoided his eyes.
“I achieved a kind of faith, Gregor. But then I lost it again. The Teacher showed me something that really scared me. I started to doubt. I started to think that our work was misguided and that we would fail. I needed to re-experience what I had experienced in the desert. The only way I knew to do that was to see you, an animist, in your true form.”
“So you chose to violate me,” said the Taxidermist. “And the Builder. A man who had just lost his partner and their unborn child.”
“I asked you to show me, but you would not. Do you remember?”
The Taxidermist shook his head in anger. “No Erys. I will not accept responsibility for your actions. You have a disregard for others that makes you dangerous.”
The Taxidermist’s rebuttal hurt his pride.
“Like I said,” he breathed slowly, “I do not ask for your forgiveness. But I thought you should know my reasons.”
The Taxidermist gazed at him with surprise. He held a finger before the young man’s face.
“That is just the thing, Erys. You should be begging for forgiveness. Mine. The Builder’s. Sian’s. You should be on your knees. What is it that stops you? You should think about that.”
The animist’s nostrils flared. Erys could feel the heat of exhaled breath on his cheeks. For a moment Erys thought the animist would change. But the Taxidermist remained a man and turned towards the doorway.
Erys had allowed too many opportunities to slip away. He had always been blunt with words, with explanations. He held nothing back, but he rarely spoke the truth.
The Taxidermist was almost gone. Erys took a deep breath.
“It’s fear, Gregor,” he called.
The Taxidermist stopped. He did not turn around, but he waited.
“It is fear that stops me. When I was in the zeppelin, there was a young woman, about Sian’s age. She fell and I tried to save her. But I could not. I ... I held her hand. But I lost her. I watched her die.”
He was thankful the animist was facing away. Tears stung his eyes. “I held her, but she fell. I was not strong enough. And I am scared, Gregor. What if I am not strong enough to save those I love?”
He buried his face. His balance washed and tipped, but hands on his shoulders steadied him. He opened his eyes and saw the Taxidermist before him, supporting him.
“Forgive me,” whispered Erys.
In his mind he faced the young woman, her terrified, blue-green eyes. As she sailed away into the sky. “I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”
The Taxidermist drew Erys’ to his chest. Erys could feel the smooth skin of the man’s neck against his cheek. He felt the skin stretch, become hard and rough. An organic odor of reptilian musk flooded his nostrils. The essence of the animist consumed his senses, soaked his body with the Spirit of the world. Not forgiveness, but a deep sympathy, a sense of pity that would carry him and support him to the end of his days.
He watched the employees of the Museum file into the lecture theatre. Erys felt alienated from his colleagues. Once, he had been admired. The children had looked up to him. Sian had loved him.
Now everything was different. He had passed through fire and death. But this world was not in awe of him as the old one had been. His relationships were changed.
He watched Masodi and Jaime entere the theatre together and take seats down near the stage. Masodi and Jaime were now his superiors, curators of the Museum.
The Builder was ruined entered behind them with the workshop children in tow. He pointed to a row of seats and the children silently obeyed. Once they would have laughed and taken seats further up. Now, they were scared of the silent man the Builder had become.
Erys sat apart from the others, high up near the back of the theatre. He wondered what had happened to estrange him from these people. He wanted to believe that the change had occurred when Jay pulled him into Passage. He wanted to blame Jay. But in truth he knew the change had occurred earlier.
Restoration Day! The day Ariel had been destroyed by Dark Matter. He had been denied his rightful ascension. He had been shunted to the side. And nothing since then had been right.
Most of the employees had taken seats and they waited for the new Director to arrive.
Two more figures passed through the door. The Curator of Nature, and with her Sian.
Erys closed his eyes. It was not the world that was off centre. It was himself. Somehow, when Ariel had pushed him aside, she had pushed him out of himself. He felt like a ghost.
Is this what it is like to be Spirit? he asked.
He squeezed his eyes tighter shut.
There was only one possibility, one path to redemption. Sacrifice!
A figure sat beside him and took his hand. Fingers laced through his.
He opened his eyes.
Sian.
She smiled. Her beautiful eyes cast into him and drew him back to the real world. He wanted to tell her what she meant to him, and to explain why he was finding it so hard to love.
“Shh,” she whispered. “We will talk later.”
Her eyes glanced at the stage below.
“The meeting has begun.”
Her body clad in the blue robes of Nature, Xia Tsang stood before the gathered employees, her eyes moving quietly from person to person. With Paris Aristotle in the desert and Jack Gaunt ascended, she was now the Museum’s senior curator. She held out her hands as if to embrace the room.
“A change is upon us,” she said. “I speak of a social evolution – the human race will never be the same.”
She lowered her hands and smiled.
“I want to share with you a sense of great optimism,” continued the Curator. “On this day we welcome a new Director to the Museum. A man we all know, love and trust. Jack Gaunt has ascended to a new role. I will miss the Curator deeply, but I am joyous that he will be watching over us as the Director.”
She turned to face the entrance to the theatre.
Everybody rose from their seats and bowed as the Director entered. Like his predecessor he wore a white robe. His face lay hidden behind a golden mask. He moved smoothly. He climbed the
steps and crossed the stage to the seat set for him. He faced the Museum employees, offered the smallest of bows, and sat.
Everyone in the theatre then welcomed him with applause. And Erys did also, for he felt genuinely moved. Erys looked at the golden mask on the stage far below. It shone like the first glint of sun above the horizon, summoning a feeling that had been lacking in these dark days.
Optimism.
Sian held his hand. And despite the lack of promise for his own future, Erys squeezed Sian’s hand and lent forward, eager for what would come.
As was customary the Director did not speak and the Curator of Nature conducted the meeting on his behalf. Xia Tsang officially acknowledged Masodi as the new Curator of Science, ascending into Jack Gaunt’s vacated role. She acknowledged Jaime as the acting Curator of History, and she asked the employees to join with her in wishing Paris Aristotle continued safe passage in the desert.
“Each morning I face the horizon and hope that the dawn will bring your return. You and our new friends, the Umawari people. Safe passage, Paris Aristotle. We look for you on the rising sun.”
Xia Tsang then asked the audience to share her wishes for the Teacher’s health.
“We hope, Teacher, for your swift recovery. A scion needs their master. And we need your commitment to the truth and your moral integrity to guide us through these changing days. For you are our rudder, steering us through uncertain waters to a future shore.”
Erys sensed no irony in her words, for Xia Tsang was a Humanist. She is sincere, he thought. She believes that ultimately, in the end he will guide us correctly. Perhaps, but without my intervention, he would not have done so.
Xia Tsang asked for curatorial reports. They were brief, and when the last report had been given, Xia Tsang closed the meeting. “Can a few of you remain. The Curators, please,” she said, nodding at Masodi and Jaime, “Builder, Taxidermist. My scion and the Scion-Teacher. And Director,” she said, turning to the golden masked man. “There is a matter I would like to discuss with you and the others.”
After the Museum employees had filed from the theatre Xia Tsang gestured for the remaining people to gather together before the stage.
“Masodi, Jaime,” the Curator acknowledged the boys, “you are now Curators and it is time to share knowledge of a certain project with you. Both Paris Aristotle and the Director are privileged to the information I am about to tell you. It is right that you too should know the truth.”
The boys looked at her with puzzled, expectant expressions. “Please, Director, if you would accompany us. It is time to visit the Ark.”
The Curator of Nature and the Director led the others from the theatre. Erys and the Taxidermist tailed the group, exchanging cautious glances as they passed from the room. For a brief moment the Taxidermist’s eyes transformed into their reptile form. The expression in his eyes planted the seed of a tiny, nagging feeling in Erys’ stomach. The look in Gregor’s animal eyes was fearful. Although he trusted Masodi and Jaime without question, Erys was not certain that Xia Tsang’s decision to reveal the Ark was sound.
They entered the cool, blue space of the Ark. Erys watched their faces closely. Surprise and elation dawned and spread over Jaime’s face.
“Oh my,” he whispered.
Erys watched Masodi. His face expressed surprise, but the surprise was feigned. Like someone pretending surprise at a gift they knew they were going to receive. But there was also excitement, and the excitement was real. Masodi and the Director exchanged the briefest of glances.
Erys understood. Masodi knew of the Ark’s existence. Jack Gaunt had shared this knowledge with him.
The group descended into the cistern and explored the capsules. Xia Tsang explained the Ark to the boy curators. The Builder, the Taxidermist and the Director followed at a distance, listening politely but not really listening. They perused the contents of the units as they walked.
Erys watched the Director as the man leant over a unit and examined the frozen hatchlings within.
“They are cockatoo chicks,” Erys told him. “They were endemic to this region before Loss and Decline.”
The Director looked at him but did not respond.
How difficult it must be, thought Erys, to be silent. To remain separate from those you are close to.
Erys hung back from the group as Xia Tsang opened one of the capsules and passed the dormant forms of two eagle chicks to Jaime and Masodi. The boy’s faces lit up as they examined the fragile creatures. Erys turned away and surveyed the Ark in its entirety, more than a thousand capsules, thousands of species, perhaps half a million small creatures waiting to be thawed and released into the world.
Perhaps it was the immensity of the project that overwhelmed him. Or the immensity of the responsibility on Erys’ shoulders. The Director turned slowly towards him, and the cistern tipped to the side. He reached out with a hand for support, missed his grasp on a capsule and collapsed to his knees. A wave of nausea swept over him and beads of sweat sprang from his face.
“Erys?”
Sian was beside him, helping him to his feet.
“I’m okay. Just ...” He shook his head to dispel the dizziness.
“Here, come with me. Continue on without us,” said Sian to the others.
She supported him as they returned to the cistern’s entrance. By the time they reached the stairs, Erys felt improved. At the top of the stairs he paused and looked back at the group exploring the cistern. One person stood apart from the others. The person’s robes reflected blue light and looked not unlike the Curator of Nature’s. However, when the person turned to face him, Erys saw clearly the golden mask of the new Director.
The man was watching him, and the vision did not seem so kind.
As Sian led him from the cistern, Erys knew that something was wrong. They had missed it. All of them. And the consequences would be disastrous.
Something was terribly wrong.
They sat on the tatami in the Teacher’s room, facing each other. It was late at night. Sian had cooked while Erys bathed, and they ate together in silence. Now it was time to talk.
Darkness filled the room. A lone candle sat between them. The small light bounced off their faces but did little to push back the shadows.
Erys waited patiently, watching the orange light dance across her eyelids and cheeks. Each breath made the light flicker and her face became an urgent play of shadow and light.
Eventually she looked up. “Erys, I love my work, the Nature Dome and the Ark and the animals. I love what I do because it is important. If there is nothing else, if this is all I do with my life, it is enough. So, I don’t really want to talk about it. I don’t want to argue with you. I’m not going to explain how I felt when I thought you were lost, how I felt when you returned. You know how I feel.”
Erys lowered his eyes to the flickering light. A lone candle in the darkness ...
It is the darkness surrounding it that makes the small light seem brighter.
But does that mean we are destined to be alone? thought Erys.
“I want to be with you,” continued Sian. “We have so little time. Our lives are so short. Whether it is a day, a week, or a few years. I just want to spend it with you.”
But he knew what surrounded this flickering light. A hungry, inescapable darkness. He knew that he would go there, soon.
“There is no-one else for me,” she said. “Not ever. If I am not with you, I am alone.”
He could not tell her they had no future. Not tonight.
He reached out to her as she began to fall. She hung in space, secure in his grasp, wind fanning her dark hair out into the sky.
He touched his fingers to the side of her face. She closed her eyes. He could not imagine anything as perfect as her face under this warm, dancing light ... the curve of her cheeks, how they felt to touch. The curve of her eyelashes. The line of her chin, her lips. The candle-light glow.
Nothing as perfect.
He leaned in close and s
he opened her eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Peace and comfort.
When the dream came, he was unprepared.
They stretched out, one after the other, a line that reached the horizon bathed in shadow and beyond. An endless line of figures, robed in white.
The Teachers.
Jay was the first and stood beside him. His eyes were clear. His cheeks glowed with the fire of life. The boy looked at him and shook his head.
Behind Jay and just to the side stood Ariel. Beautiful. Flaming, red hair. She looked at Erys with an unbearable sadness. She shook her head.
Behind her another woman, roughly the same age as Ariel. Although they had never met he knew her as Olivia, Ariel’s Teacher. She was shorter than Ariel, with a round face and full, long hair. She put her fingers to her lips and shook her head.
Behind her stood a man he did not know, Olivia’s Teacher. Behind him another woman. Behind her another and another. As he gazed at each they shook their heads.
The line stretched on. The Teachers became older as Erys scanned down the line of history. In the early days of Dark Matter when it had less power, some of the Teachers had reached fifty years and older before they died.
In unison they shook their heads and despaired. For he was the last, and after him ...
A glow appeared on the horizon. Something like a distant burst of fire shot up into the dark sky. It was followed immediately by another, and then another.
The Teachers looked at him and shook their heads. He knew what it was.
Passage.
One by one the Teachers along the line dissolved into fire as the golden light of their Spirit was sucked into the sky. Curving arcs of light, one after the other, shooting towards the centre of the galaxy.
White robed figures in the distance burst into flames. Passage claimed them up the line. Nameless men and women, dead now for hundreds of years. Twenty remained, ten remained. He could see their features twisting in agony as they melted into golden light.
Five remained. They looked at him, shaking their heads. A mistake had been made. He knew it now.
A terrible mistake.