Pascale's Wager: Homelands of Heaven

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Pascale's Wager: Homelands of Heaven Page 39

by Anthony Bartlett


  Palmiro was himself completely fascinated but he was also feverishly planning as he watched. Pascale had thrown a road block across his intention to introduce his antidote into the general water supply. He wasn't really sure why but her opinion mattered enormously to him: he had only discovered how much when she had been talking to him there back on the mesa. Her objections had in fact helped him, for almost at the same moment as she voiced them, another and better idea came to the fore of his mind.

  The symbolic value of Sarobindo's sacrificial immersion was greater than any other event in Heaven. If it was possible to undo that it would achieve Adorno's goal of shifting the perspective of Immortals with one blow. To destroy the ritual of Sarobindo's plunge would overturn their world, and, just as Pascale had insisted, they would then be able to respond freely. He'd made up his mind back there on top of the canyon directly after Magus’ fall, and it was unwavering from then on. Sitting now in the great arena, he was deciding the practical details to make his idea a reality.

  The minutes slipped away and the tension in the crowd increased once again. It was different from the previous rapt devotion. Now there was excitement mixed with the awe. Palmiro registered the changed feeling and kept his eyes glued to the lake. He noticed that at intervals round its edge there were flights of steps leading up from the water and he assumed it would be on one of these that the yogi would ascend. He had no doubt that Sarobinbdo would make it out in time. Whatever Sarobindo was, he was totally in command of his craft. The only question was what the effect on the crowd would be.

  There were less than two minutes to go. The digital seconds were peeling off and a hum of voices from around the balconies rose steadily in anticipation. The sound of organ chords softly progressing and increasing in volume fed the excitement. There were now less than thirty seconds to go and still there was no sign. Fifteen seconds, twelve, ten, and the unmistakable head and shoulders broke the surface and the unique stride ascending the steps declared unequivocally Sarobindo had triumphed. A massive cheer broke out from around the amphitheater, which was drowned immediately by a thunderous blast on the organ.

  Sarobindo cleared the top of the pool and, almost at the same moment, its turquoise surface appeared to warp in on itself, imploding like a collapsed drum. It roared to life, a swirling gray and yellow chaos generated and held in place by the huge concentric rings of particle accelerators lodged behind the containing bowl. Its ferocious sound drowned out all other noise and its smell rose immediately to the balconies, electric and intoxicating, the distinctive, dangerous breath of the amphitheater refreshed at its core.

  The video camera panned around the balconies showing images of people no longer cheering but watching the pool with the intense fascination they had previously given to Sarobindo. They almost all had the same expression, halfway between horror and profound satisfaction. They stared into the depths, carried there by the yogi's sacrificial immersion barely concluded, and the terrifying power of the atomic flux. What the moment before had been the drama of Sarobindo at the bottom was now a monster which would have destroyed him utterly if he had stayed there ten seconds longer. It could also destroy the whole building and everyone in it, were it not for the extraordinary technology which held it in place.

  For perhaps the last time Palmiro wondered at the world the Immortals had created: how they had reached into the depths of human dreams to bring their creatures to the surface. But the end of that world had come and it was his personal destiny to reveal it. Gradually the chaos began to subside and patches of blue began to reappear like strips of torn cloth. Then the entire thing coalesced once, broke apart and formed again finally, back to its original state. The dimpled waters had returned and the show was over. Actually there was a second act to follow, a full symphony orchestra and concert, but Palmiro had seen all he needed. He knew what he had to do. He headed for the exits, back to Danny and Eboni's colony.

  7. HELL'S FIRES

  The shot that hit Zena had been heard in the canyon, and Katoucha who was sitting in the tent had seen with her one eye the falling body as it struck a shoulder of rock and plummeted down. She had been watching the area of the steps nervously ever since she and Zena had seen Magus march along the canyon and make the climb with a gun in his belt. He had come to the tent demanding to know where Pascale was. The women were too intimidated to lie and said Pascale had gone to the top. He noted it was much later in the morning than she usually stayed.

  “Very out of the ordinary, isn't it? That's suspicious behavior.”

  The governor stalked back to his cabin and returned with the gun, which he very rarely wore. He totally ignored the women as he strode by the tent. They were beside themselves with worry and finally Zena could bear it no longer. She had to go up to be there with Pascale. Katoucha had seen her denim dress hitched above her knees as she climbed the face above a spur and mounted the crest. It was very soon after that Katoucha heard the shot and saw the body fall. She let out a strangled screech and began to thump the table furiously with one hand while pointing desperately with the other. Orwell began calling out for help as best he could. Zoltan came running with Alaqua and Elliot, and a few more rushed out from the cantina to see what was happening.

  The ragged group made its way up the canyon toward the base of the steps. As they came around the small spur they found the body, with the head at a horribly twisted angle and blood pooling underneath. They stood there appalled at the abrupt and brutal death of the girl, but they hardly had time to take it in before another body came hurtling down, hitting the ground a few yards farther up. The group cowered in terror at what seemed like a rain of bodies coming from the clifftop. When someone then gave a hoarse cry, “It's Magus", they were even more terrified. The jailer's body was face up, motionless, but the head rolled a little to one side and Alaqua screamed. Everyone was paralyzed with fear, but after a little while, when nothing further happened, Katoucha went over, continuing to glance nervously above. She knelt beside the man's body and felt his neck for a pulse. After a moment she whispered, “He's dead.”

  “What happened up there?” “Who did this?” The questions were on everyone's lips but the group was so unused to voicing anything the words remained unspoken. And no one had any wish to go up the cliff to find answers. As they stood there helpless they heard a call above and recognized Pascale descending. Following behind her was a man they didn't know. By now the catastrophic scene had attracted the attention of almost everyone in the canyon. The cook and his assistants were coming and the shot had alerted the cattle drivers as it echoed and bounced along the canyon walls. Magada could be seen on horseback coming from the other direction, riding hard, followed by one of the cowboys.

  Pascale got to the bottom and at once was confronted by the horror of Zena's broken body. She collapsed to her knees beside her, reaching out her hand to touch her friend. Horror and grief welled up within her and she began to sob, her body racked with the force of her emotion. Everyone watched hypnotized, beginning to experience feelings they had all but forgotten. After a couple of minutes, Pascale made an effort to control herself. She gently took Zena's head and pushed it to a more natural position. Then she bent her body down upon the corpse of the woman and hugged her. She was no longer crying.

  She straightened and Danny took her by the hand and helped her up. He felt he needed to say something.

  “My name is Danny. I am Pascale's brother. I came here with another friend to free Pascale and take her with us. But she refused to go. She prefers to stay with you down here. Magus came and ordered us to climb down into the canyon. He had a gun. This woman arrived at the top and he shot her. We fought with him and he fell. I think we need to talk together about what this means.”

  Magada, still on her horse, whistled. “I'd say. Looks like you started a revolution.”

  Pascale looked up at her and spoke in a strong voice. “A revolution? I'm not sure what that is, but if there is a revolution I think it started when we built the tent
. Magus wanted to kill it all back then, and he couldn't do it. His wish to kill brought him to this, to his own death. We here, we wish no killing.”

  The sound of Pascale’s voice brought calm and the shock of the situation began to ease. Magada gave the bridle of her horse to the other cattle driver and dismounted. She went across to the body of Magus and knelt on one knee looking at him.

  “This was one evil bastard. I never thought to see him dead.” She put her hand down the top of his shirt and ripped a pouch with a set of keys from a chain around his neck. She walked over to Pascale and held them up.

  “You might want to check his cabin before you talk like that.”

  Pascale took the keys. “What do you mean?”

  “Back in the early days quite a few people, they disappeared without trace. I never did figure it out. Well, we can now check on at least one possibility.”

  Pascale got a sudden sick feeling. She had always felt a chill passing his cabin. She said, “We should investigate. But first, listen, we have to do something with his body, and Zena's also?”

  Magada spat, “Leave him for the dogs. As for Zena, it would take forever to dig a proper grave in the canyon. We will have to make a shallow pit and cover it with rocks.”

  Katoucha shook her head and whispered forcefully. “We should burn them both. We don't want to leave evidence.”

  It was the first time someone had raised the issue of how to present all this to outsiders.

  Danny said, “We don't have anything to hide. We were attacked! All the same, I think you're right. It might feel better if the whole episode were to go up in smoke!”

  Pascale was quickly in agreement. “Actually I think I'd like that, for Zena, and also for Magus. It's healthier, in many ways. I would suggest we build fires for them both. What do you all say?”

  People nodded, preferring this option. Pascale proposed they go to Magus' cabin first to investigate and because they might also find bits and pieces in there to build the fires. She gave Danny the keys and asked him if he'd open up the building. She asked Zoltan and Ravel to start gathering any brushwood they could find. She said she would wait by Zena's body until the fire was built.

  Danny set off to the cabin with everyone following behind him. This was the revolution and in the order of priorities nobody was going to miss the opening of the big adobe cabin with its back end under the overhang. They had lived with its crushing weight all these centuries but it was slipping away from them even as they marched to its place of command at the spot where the two canyons met. Danny in the lead passed through its arches and knocked on the big framed door. A voice inside answered, “Go away. Master is not here.”

  “It's Koyo. She doesn't know,” whispered Katoucha.

  “Listen, I am Pascale's brother. Your master has been killed in an accident. We're coming in.”

  Danny tried the door and it was locked. He fitted keys until he got the correct one and the lock turned quickly and smoothly. He pushed the door but it remained firmly shut.

  “It's bolted,” someone said. “You'll have to break it down.”

  Danny looked at Zoltan and he understood. The two stepped back and then ran at the door full tilt, their shoulders crashing solidly against it. Part of the door jamb split and came loose. They ran at the door one more time and it tore free, skewing down across the entrance. Koyo was inside screaming. The first one in after Danny and Zoltan tumbled through the opening was Magada. As others picked their way over the door she took Koyo by the shoulders and shouted, “Magus is dead, up there in the canyon. You need to go look.”

  Magus' servant was hysterical but everyone was in agreement and pointed toward the spot. They more or less ushered her out, and, torn between protecting the cabin and seeing what had happened to her master, she kept looking back as she hurried frantically up the canyon. The invaders cast about, taking in this space which they had never set eyes on before. There was a long unlit corridor, the only light coming from the doorway. On either side there were rooms, and everybody at once began trying and opening doors.

  Immediately to the right was a kind of study, with a desk, some bookshelves, a couple of easy chairs, and a radio. Its shuttered window gave directly onto the angle between the canyons and the whole area in front of the canteen, including the tent. It was obvious that hardly any traffic in the canyons could escape the notice of an observer positioned here.

  Opposite this room was a small kitchen and dining area. A quick scan of the cupboards revealed luxuries not seen anywhere else in the Ranch, preserves, chocolate, wines, tins of paté, even a few cigars. For citizens of the canyons these goods were now so remote they hardly knew what they were and anyway there was no time to spend on them. Others were already trying doors farther down and an irresistible instinct seemed to draw everyone with them.

  The next rooms were bedrooms belonging, it appeared, to Magus and Koyo respectively, and after that there was a shower room and a store room. The latter contained tools, blankets, chairs, a generator and what looked like old radio and video equipment. After a few more paces the corridor came to an end in a facing door. Here it was very hard to see anything because the only light was filtered through from the entrance and the shuttered windows in the rooms. Someone broke open a window in the store room, letting in some extra light. Danny began looking for a key to the final door, and then all at once something made him gag uncontrollably.

  An indescribably awful smell had reached his nose from somewhere. It shocked him to the core and he did not want to carry on. Magada was right beside him and she too caught the odor. Although she was used to the profound squalor of the canyons, there was a yet more terrible corruption here. She put her hand to her mouth and looked intensely at Danny.

  “We have to go in.”

  Danny gritted his teeth, breathing through half-closed lips, looking for the key. He needed to get this over with. It seemed that after the front door this one should have the largest key, and he was right. The lock turned easily. The door was very heavy, tightly fitted, and opened outward. He grasped the handle but the whole crowd was now behind and pressing on him. He yelled at everyone to step back. They gave him room and he pulled the door. It yielded slowly, bringing with it the air behind. The gust of enclosed air carried a rottenness beyond human imagination and the whole group fell back, gagging and horror-struck. There was almost no light in the passage beyond and their only clue about what was down there was the stench.

  People were covering their mouths and noses but the cry went up, “We need light. Is there a light?” Ravel darted into the store room and after a moment they heard the generator kick into life. Danny who had fallen back, paralyzed by the smell, was spurred again into action. He pushed back past people into the store room looking for light switches. Ravel was already on the hunt and simultaneously they found a main panel. They turned everything on.

  A powerful electrical hum rose in pitch from the corridor and bright light flashed up and down, blinding people's eyes. The noise was from a large exhaust fan and they could feel the current of the air moving by them, lessening the intensity of the odor. As their eyes got used to the light they could see what looked like a large, low hall or den. To the right side there was an open area bounded by the same adobe walls as the rest of the building but this time, rather than their neutral brownish color, they were painted a strange mottled white.

  There were chains dangling from the ceiling and from the walls, and the space was furnished with a couple of metal tables, one with a collection of surgical instruments and the longer one with what looked like straps attached. On the left hand side the wall continued straight down in line with the corridor and there were three wooden doors set in it, indicating there was a continuation of rooms there too. The putrid smell was lessening, but the overall effect was now even more disturbing, a sense that they were entering a secret chamber of true evil.

  The group hesitated at the entrance, unnerved by the prospect of what they might find. Danny suddenly
had the feeling that probably everyone there already knew about this place but had forgotten about it deliberately. That was the way everything had worked in the canyons and only now were they slowly waking up to their own world. He experienced a sudden overwhelming anger against the Ranch and this part of it in particular. Magus was no more, dead on the canyon floor, and it was high time for his secrets to be revealed.

  Danny stepped forward into the room and tried a key to the first door. It didn't work and he tried another. It slipped smoothly in the lock and the door opened almost by itself to reveal a strange, jarring sight. Rather than any kind of horror, there was a woman reading at a table lit by a softly glowing lamp and decorated with desert cacti. The cell seemed to lack all the stink of the corridor and it even felt domestic, with an easy chair, a book case and a comfortable bed covered with a patchwork quilt and a flowered valance hanging below. The woman had a pleasant, clear and roundish face, framed with nut brown hair. She was dressed in a calf-length plaid skirt, belted high, topped by a crisp white blouse with a lace collar. She looked up and at first registered no surprise. Slowly, as the group edged into the room, she blinked and seemed confused.

  “Who are these people?” She asked as if she were talking to the book or the room.

  Danny went closer to her chair. “We are from outside, from the canyon. Magus is dead. You are free to go.”

  He held out his hand to her.

  “Magus, my father, he is dead?”

  “Yes, there was an accident. Please come. We are your friends.”

  “My father dead? Oh, how terrible, it cannot be true! Who will kiss me and wish me sweet dreams now?”

  “I'm sorry, but it's true. Magus is dead, you must go and see. He was your father? What is your name?”

  The woman put her book on the table. She took Danny's offered hand and stood up. “My name is Greta. And, yes, I must see this thing for myself.”

 

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