It was entirely believable to him. Various mechanisms suggested themselves. Just the blood flow within the face would alter the temperature of the skin. He was learning to see temperature better too. He could see different colors and patterns in Uncle now, but he had nothing to compare them to. He was like a babe learning facial expressions. It would take time to see the patterns by comparing a lot of samples. But he was still learning simpler things.
David went with Uncle to find food. Uncle nodded unsurprised when he reported seeing odd colors and patterns leaking from within foliage or as a blush on the surface of water. The bits flashing from beneath the bushes Uncle confirmed as likely rabbits, although there were other possibilities. The patterns on the water could be from any number of amphibians or small fish. Bugs were still hard to see other than with normal vision.
When they passed an outcropping of rock David had to stop and examine it. There was a vein of a different color running through it. In his old vision it was greenish, but its new false color was the brightest David had seen yet. Uncle just shrugged when asked why.
"I don't know why it's green, so how would I know why it is bright?" he explained. Not sharing any name for the newly perceived color.
"I wonder what its composition is? It might be a particular kind of metal or a rare mineral." David speculated. "Like you, I'm not trained in Geology."
"One man can't learn everything in a lifetime," Uncle said.
Chapter 9
David asked for more of the plant and to be shown what sort of places it grew.
"Let us proceed with caution," Uncle counseled. "I shall walk you around and point out patches of the wizard jewel, but first you must agree to let me regulate how much you take while you are my student."
"I totally agree," David said. "I haven't got such an elevated opinion of myself that I think I can move on beyond your instruction. I want to see what sort of places it grows, because I hope to take some home and cultivate it there."
"I can see the truth of that in your face," Uncle said. "One small leaf for now. I don't want to lead you back home by the hand because this world is mere shadows compared to the other."
"I wonder," David said, going down a different line of thought suddenly. "You spoke of the things I'm seeing as a shadow world. Are there others in that world as blind to ours, as most here are to theirs? Do they pull power from our side or bring it here?
"You are apprenticing to the wrong person to explore that," Uncle warned. "To see the other side a little and tap it is much different than fully embracing it to the point of even visiting it. I'm just a Sahar. You would need to be taught by. . . a magician is your closest word I think. There are very few, far fewer than Sahars even and none my friend. They tend to enslave their students and selfishly keep most of their knowledge, so I wouldn't recommend it as a way to live. Sahar and magicians don't get along so well. We see the source of their power and frustrate it. That's doesn't endear us to the sort of person who seeks to use those powers selfishly."
"You've never mentioned them to me," David protested.
"You would be astonished all the things I haven't told you yet," Uncle assured him. "Truth is, I won't have time to teach you everything I know, but I don't think it was your father's intent, nor yours, to become a Sahar. I don't see you leaving the life you have behind. You want a measure of the skills, but not the solitary life, nor want what I'm sure you consider poverty, do you?"
"No, I want to go back to my people," David confessed. "I like my soft bed and the comforts and entertainments so common there. I do not look down on your choice to live as you wish. Not even your countrymen who have no talent like you."
Uncle examined his face in more detail than usual.
"You lie," he decided. "But I forgive you, because it is a small lie. The bulk of it is truth, but you have some reservations. Also, you aren't lying to me, but are lying to yourself about your own feelings. It isn't evil at its root, but embarrassment at what you know to be a defect that you will learn to control in time."
Uncle said it with such conviction it there was no arguing the point. David decided he would rather have that argument with himself when he had some privacy again.
"It seems like I should know about dangers like magicians," David said, changing the subject back to something less uncomfortable.
"Oh you will, it will seem obvious if you find such. If you meet a Sahar you will see the way he thinks on his face, just like the untalented. A Sahar would never try to hide his mind from you. If you find a man with obvious ability to wield power, but who tries to mask his face and thoughts you will know. It would matter little what you call him magician, trickster, wizard or whatever. He will be as obvious as the untalented who are similarly broken and sick, no matter how he also tries to shield it behind superficial smiles and kind eyes. It's no wonder they hate those who can read them."
"And that's it?" David asked. "There are no other dangers or traps?"
"By no means," Uncle corrected. "There are dangers I may see and show you, but you must be alert to what is odd and different as a possible danger all your life. I have no idea what may be present or even different than here, back in your own land. If I came to America looking for you, would I not find different hazards?"
"Indeed, just crossing a busy street might risk your life some places," David agreed. He got suddenly pensive and serious.
"A troubling thought?" Uncle asked.
"Yes, you are teaching me skills in this specific environment," David said, waving a hand around at the empty hills. "I'm not sure how much, or how well, I will apply that to living in an urban technological society. Just reading faces, as you mentioned, will take experience. I am not even getting that experience in the wilds here. I may delay going home to spend some time here in the relatively small quiet city."
"I can spend a week or two with you in the city before the din of urban living drives me back away," Uncle promised. "The wires, the radio, metal everywhere and the stink of unnatural things can be ignored for a little while."
"I think you might find Atlanta to be hell," David decided. "Someplace like New York City would simply be unendurable. There are those who claim that is true with just normal vision and hearing."
"I never plan to test it," Uncle assured him.
"You said radio," David remembered. "Is it something you sense just like the magnetic lines?"
"Yes, you will see it soon I think, as rapidly as you are progressing."
"But there is no radio around here," David protested.
"Oh no. Even here. It had grown dim until I ate some more plant, but you see it on the horizon. The airplanes fly over so high you can’t see them or hear them with mundane senses, but they are haloed with the color of radio and they flicker with other radio colors," Uncle assured him.
"I'm barely starting then," David said, somewhat disheartened.
"Ha! You despair when you grow faster than any student I've ever seen!"
"Oh, well it's all about me," David said, factitiously and put on a prissy face.
"It is," Uncle surprised him by agreeing. "That's why we are out here. Every man must have a little of that in his heart to keep on living. But to balance it with knowing every other man is the same is one of the hard parts of wisdom."
"You say man. I have to ask if there are women who are Sahars?" David asked.
"Not to my knowledge. Now, that is not the same as asking if a woman could be a Sahar," Uncle pointed out.
"If it were possible wouldn't it happen?" David insisted.
"I am not isolated from my culture," Uncle reminded him. "I am aware women can be fine doctors and lawyers, artists and scholars. However, very few are allowed to do so in the city we just left. Do you think your father would have sent a daughter of your age and ability to wander the desert with me?
"I can assure you my nephew, who regards me with much respect, would never send his daughter with me like this. And that is even in the absence of any religious prohibition
, because I am a senior male relative, fit to lead her about in public. This is a thing ingrained much deeper than superficial religious rules. To send her off with me he'd have to deal with her mother, with his second wife allied against him. Be assured that wouldn't fly at all."
David laughed at Uncles expression and nodded agreement. "The power of a wife is nothing to be trifled with. In my company I had to explain to a fellow that a secretary is not a person you treat with contempt, because they hold a similar position of unnamed but very real powers. If they wish to present you in an unfavorable light and follow your requests very literally rather than support your interests it can destroy your standing in the company or even your career."
"I can see that," Uncle said, thinking on it. "Contest with your wife and you are picking a fight with the woman who makes your tea and cooks your food. Contest with your secretary, and... ” He invited David to complete the expression with an open palm.
"You are messing with the woman who will decide when your boss calls whether to tell him you are with an important client, or simply that she saw you put your golf clubs in your car and leave, without any detail. Who can correct a slip of your grammar in the letter you dictated, or leave them in to allow you to look like an unlettered fool."
"Much as I suspected," Uncle said. "Your women have wider opportunity than ours," Uncle admitted. "But it's not really equality is it?
"Not by a long shot," David agreed. "They try to make it a matter of law, but we both know laws are like your religious rules. They are subordinate to the reality of what people feel is right. But that equality has in the last couple generations become a goal towards which a lot of people are working."
"I see a danger there," Uncle said. "Opening the door to be a doctor or builder or whatever is a kindness, if a woman wants to follow that path. But to insist they do so, when it is not a joy, makes it a burden.
"I myself have no desire to expend all my energies telling people which path they should follow. They won't thank me for it. I'm selfish enough not to want to try to right every wrong if it swallows up all the days of my life."
"I'm inclined to agree, when you express it so clearly," David said. After thinking on it a bit he added, "I think people tend to follow almost any new idea, even a basically good one, until they go overboard on it."
"A surprising idea for one so young," Uncle said. "Moderation is not a common fault of young men."
"I'm hungry and don't feel very moderate about it," David confessed. "Might we do a little hunting as a lesson before it is too late today?"
"We can, and perhaps you can see the blush of a rabbit hiding by now," Uncle said.
* * *
It wasn't just rabbits David quickly realized. There were a lot of small creatures betraying their presence. The new colors were. . . interesting. When one looked very different David stopped and pointed.
"What's in there?" he demanded of Uncle.
"A snake." For some reason that amused him. He held his palm up to forestall any more questions.
"Yes, a poisonous one," Uncle assured him, anticipating his question."
"Venomous," David insisted, miffed. "It's only poisonous if you eat the part with the venom in it."
Uncle smiled and shrugged. "Same result from inside or from without."
Dave had to admit he had a point there, but said nothing.
"There," Uncle said, regarding the next clump of foliage. "See the glow is bigger? The others have been things like mice. This is almost certainly a rabbit."
"Do you want me to throw at him?" David asked.
"Only if you aren't hungry. You are some days and much practice from being able to hit a running rabbit," Uncle assured him.
"How should I practice?" David asked.
"You said you have a pistol," Uncle reminded him. "Surely you took some time to become proficient with it. How did you do that?"
"Shooting at paper targets on a range. But people talk about going out in the country and shooting at improvised targets like tin cans," David admitted. "I suppose I can do the same."
"There is all the land before you without another soul to worry about," Uncle said, with a grand sweep of his arm. "You could shoot your pistol with little risk. There is not as much as a window to break within a day's walk. Throw away. I predict you will find stationary targets challenge enough at first."
* * *
Uncle was right. After a few days it became apparent David would never have the range and power the old man retained, much less what he must have had in his youth. He was improving on steering the rock towards the target. Another small piece of the herb aided him along on that. Trouble was he didn't have the smooth fast release of a baseball pitcher. He was starting to suspect he wasn't even very good Little League material.
He'd enjoyed hiking, swimming and other physical activities as a young man, but never team sports. He wasn't clumsy, but he lacked the smooth strong flow of motion of a natural athlete.
Uncle just shrugged it off. "Nobody is good at everything. I've seen you do things I had no idea could be done. Making the ice was astonishing. I'd say that you should let the idea go and not worry about it if you never become very good at throwing. How many rabbits do you intend to hunt when you go back home?"
"None," David admitted, "but it irks me."
Uncle nodded. "I can see that. As a boy I threw rocks for all my years growing up. It's what we all did. We had a good supply," he said with a smile and waved his hand at the surrounding area. There was lots of bare ground littered with pebbles and bigger rocks everywhere, easy to pick up. "Throw them if you wish, but I wouldn't neglect other talents to master this."
"You're right," David decided. "I'll keep throwing stones when we walk along, but stop fretting about perfecting it."
Chapter 10
"We need to go to a different camp site for a few days," uncle informed him early in the morning. "There are people coming here and they will probably stay in the area a few days. They aren't the sort I'd like to meet up with, so we will just avoid them."
"How do you know this?" David asked.
Uncle didn't look happy with the question. "I believe the correct response to that in English is, "A little birdie told me."
"Ah, yes. I've heard that idiom," David admitted. That was interesting. Uncle wasn't telling him everything.
"Should we cover up the fact we stayed here?" David wondered, looking around at the ground and remains of their fire.
When Uncle said nothing right away he added. "Would these people track us if they see the camp is recent?"
That got a smile. "No these people are too smart to track after someone. It is far more dangerous to track than to be tracked. The advantage is to the one setting an ambush. So they will be content to claim the camp for a day or two. If they are ignorant of that principle, or have grown bold I'll retrain them," Uncle promised.
"OK," David agreed and didn't press for more.
David didn't ask how far their next camp would be. By mid-day his fingers were a bit sore from picking up and flinging rocks. He’d built up enough endurance he wasn't really tired, but he was bored.
When Uncle stopped so abruptly he almost walked into him.
"What do you see ahead?" Uncle asked.
David wasn't sure what sort of a test this was. He came up beside him and Uncle held a hand out to keep him from stepping beyond him. It jogged an old memory. His mother used to throw an arm up like that when she had to brake the car hard. Even when they had seat belts and he was a teenager bigger than her who she'd have no real chance of holding back.
He looked off in the distance and Uncle having turned his head to examine his face said, "No, much closer than that."
They were walking up a narrow gully. Places he’d visited out west, they'd call it an arroyo or a wash. It probably had periodic flash floods. There was only a narrow flat bottom up the center of the V where it was comfortable to walk.
Uncle seemed in no hurry, so he looked very thoro
ughly.
"About three meters ahead, there's a funny shimmer in the air to one side, like heat coming off something," David said.
"Good, good. I was afraid you couldn't see it yet. That made no sense as well as you are doing with other things," Uncle said. "Go to your right a little, up slope and look at a different angle. But by no means go in front of it closely."
David did as he said, careful of his footing on the slope. Once he turned back he made sure of his footing first and then looked. It had been narrow and ill defined edge on. More face-on it was obvious it wasn't heat rising. It was a circular disturbance like ripples in a pool, but static. The three center ripples were well defined if subtle, with a translucent brassy hue. The opposite bank of the gully behind it was still visible faintly distorted through the disturbance around a distinct opaque center. However the effect faded out further from the center until it disappeared at the edges. When he closed his eyes, the form was still there to his new senses, but subtly different. More like an eye with a dark center. This center circle was the first of these new colors he’d seen that seemed to correspond to black. He eased back down to Uncle. For some reason he didn't feel free to call out loudly.
"It’s a circle in the air," he told Uncle. "It's weird. I know I've seen something similar, but I can't think what."
"I'd be amazed if you have seen the same thing and lived to tell about it," Uncle said.
"Not the same, but similar." Then the memory came to David. "OK, I know what it looks like, a Fresnel lens."
"I don't know the term," Uncle admitted.
"You've seen a magnifying glass?" David asked.
"Yes," Uncle said, "though more often the sort in a little leather purse small enough to carry in your pocket." He made an open circle of finger and thumb to show how big such a lens would be.
"Those are easy to carry," David agreed, "but if you need a big lens it would be very heavy and awkward to move and mount." He made a big circle of his arms to demonstrate what he meant.
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