Planet Walkers

by A. V. Shackleton

  Huldar looked from the forest to the grass and said, “We’ll set up here.”

  “Right you are, boss,” said Gento. He whispered and several large bundles appeared beside him.

  Nachiel looked up and down the grassy site. His brow pinched. “I don’t like it. We’ll be right in the path of every big and nasty that comes this way!”

  Huldar waved his hand at the forest. “It’s better than in there. There’s no slugs and no fungus.”

  Nachiel still hesitated.

  “We’ll set wards,” Huldar said, “same as we would anywhere else, and the portal is right there!”

  “I still –” Nachiel started.

  “Are you volunteering to chop a hole in that?” Gento shrugged toward the strap-trees. “Give it up, Nachiel. This looks like a fine enough place to me.”

  Nachiel chewed his bottom lip doubtfully. When the fronds rustled he spun toward the movement.

  “It’s nothing,” Huldar said. “Probably more slugs.” He watched Gento creep up behind his teammate. For such a large figure he was remarkably quiet on his feet.

  “I hope so,” Nachiel was saying. His head bobbed as he searched the vegetation.

  “I’ll take a closer look later on,” Huldar continued, “and if I find any rampaging, flesh-eating monsters –”

  “RAAARGH!” Gento roared.

  Nachiel squeaked in terror. “Big brute!” He put his hand over his heart. “Nearly frightened the life out of me.”

  Huldar left them to set up camp while he went to assess the feel of local Qalān. When a sudden thunderstorm darkened the skies, he hurried back to find a fire already burning and all their bedding in order.

  “Ah! Just in time!” Nachiel said. “Kettle’s on the boil.”

  “Thanks!” Huldar gazed around the inside of their new domain. “This looks very comfy, and see, oh ye doubters, we’re sheltered from the worst of the winds by mountains on either side.”

  Gento tossed his head toward the weather. “Pink hail?”

  A drift of it had followed Huldar inside. “Volcanic fumes?” he ventured, kicking it back out. He’d never seen hail that color before, but he thought he’d read about it somewhere.

  The noise of the storm increased. A ferocious gust made the leathers creak. Nachiel paused mid step. “Oh no! What if this clearing was made by tornadoes?” He glanced apprehensively at the ceiling. “Regular tornadoes! I don’t want to get sucked up into the sky and torn apart!”

  “Relax, Nachiel,” said Huldar. “It’s not that bad, and, as to what made the track – I saw no broken trees or debris further down. I don’t know why it’s there, but it goes a long way – right down to the sea, I think. If Casco or the new diviner were here, they could tell us more.”

  Guy-ropes hummed as a fresh squall buffeted them.

  “Now, how about a quiet ale to celebrate the absence of the Overlord?” Huldar said. “And what have we got to eat? I’m starving!”

  _______

  The next morning, Huldar ducked beneath a curtain of icicles hanging above their tent flap. Droplets of melt-water reminded him of salivating teeth, and despite yesterday’s jokes he made a quick scan for predators.

  On his way back in, he didn’t duck low enough. Nachiel looked up from his bedroll, startled by the fall of as broken ice.

  Gento stood over a bubbling pot of porridge. “Just a little more,” he muttered, “and a pinch of that salt from Parsay.” He stirred it again and the aroma of little attar wafted through the room.

  Nachiel rolled his eyes. “It’d be nice to think he was muttering charms to improve the flavor.”

  “Hmm.” Huldar grinned. “Unlikely.”

  “It is what it is,” Gento growled. “Here, tea should sweeten you up.”

  Huldar turned to Nachiel. “If you could take your gear into the forest today and do some sketching? I particularly want images of those flying slugs.”

  “Slimy things!” Nachiel grimaced. “But at least they won’t eat me.”

  “They’ll look good for the review when we go home. Nothing like novelty to keep the guild’s patrons happy. And the orange fungi … you know the ones … the top explodes when you touch them? After that, whatever else takes your interest.”

  “I’ll start as soon as the fog lifts,” Nachiel said. “Assuming it will lift! I have some lovely new paper I bought in the Imperial City just before we left.”

  He cracked open a flat leather case and smoothed his hand over a creamy sheaf of paper. “Doesn’t it smell divine? Hmm … like silk … or clouds on water.”

  “Clouds on water!” Gento sniggered.

  The case closed again with a snap. “How’s that breakfast coming along?” Nachiel said.

  Huldar grinned. “Ah, yes – Gento, since you’re on kitchen duties today, for the evening meal I’m thinking wild talemgal fried in crosin oil with stremon patties and a nice, red-karientos sauce? What do you think, Nachiel?”

  “Ooh, yes, please!”

  “Then a big slice of easanberry tart with saroo cream cheese, and all washed down with a glass of finest casset liqueur.” He looked up at Gento. “What do you say?”

  The Rukh snorted. He shared an image of exotic dishes served on a gilded platter, presented by himself in the uniform of an Imperial servant.

  “Looks like he’s going to tip the food over your head,” Nachiel chuckled. He turned to Gento. “Imperial colors suit you. Watch out for the Gok! He might fancy a nice big Rukh, especially in a costume like that.”

  “Do you think?” Gento slopped a ladle of little attar into Nachiel’s bowl.

  “Hey! Watch the case!”

  Gento smiled as Nachiel wiped a blob of warm, gluey seeds from the leather.

  “Anything else, my lordling?” he asked sweetly.

  Leaving Nachiel and Gento with strict instructions not to venture too far, Huldar set out through the fog to follow the broad clearing and hopefully get more of a feel for what it was. Prints or scat might tell him something about the animals thereabouts, but the whole area seemed clean and clear – very strange.

  He came to a raised hummock a little drier than its surroundings and kneeled with his palms against its surface to let the local song seep into him. After a time, he began to hum in tune with what he sensed and when he found the right pitch, the inner life of nearby ecosystems began to course through him … first a trickle, then a flood … the joy of renewal, the ecstasy of rebirth, trunks grew, leaves reached for the warmth, mites burrowed and flowers took shape while underground creatures prepared to emerge from their long, dark sleep … He smiled with joy. This was why he loved what he did.

  But when it was time to narrow the focus, he found that he could not. In a silken surge the song gained force and took him with it. A powerful drone thrummed in his soul, rushed him through mountain and stone into deep green oceans then deeper still until he thought he would finally see the mysteries at a planet’s core.

  Then a voice murmured like the hush of wavelets on a gentle shore. He strained to hear it.

  They come … They are here! Breaker and redeemer as one …

  The contact broke and Huldar lay gasping in fresh sunshine. Elements of his experience slipped away as the waking world exerted its influence, but he remembered the words. In his mind there remained the image of a starry circle and the sense of a path unbroken … and in his heart, a feeling that the Great Design had brought him there for a reason: that his fate was now sealed and fixed in the pattern of time.

  Huldar? Shamkarun Huldar!

  Nachiel’s voice drove the last trails of vision from his thoughts.

  Over here! he replied. He felt as if he’d been trampled by a herd of beasts. As he rolled to his feet, he glimpsed a small patch of orange beneath the turf. He bent to see what it was and found a brightly striped pebble, curiously out of place. As he prized it from the ground it resonated against his fingertips. Was it charmed? How could that be? He looked at the barren circle, where a ring of vegetation had gro
wn up around it. It must have been there for ages, yet that was impossible.

  The sound of running footsteps came closer.

  “Huldar!” Nachiel called.

  He peered up at the sky. It was almost midday. He must have lain for several hours, caught in the planet’s song, yet time had passed so quickly.

  He pocketed the charmstone before Nachiel could see it.

  “Are you all right?” Nachiel panted. He imaged Ubaid’s seamed Naghari face.

  “No need,” Huldar assured him.

  “What happened?” Nachiel insisted. “We lost you. Your voice was gone for so long and it didn’t come back. Gento’s still searching …” He paused to message his team-mate, then continued almost in the same breath. “I looked here – I thought I looked here, then I saw you just lying. Why were you gone for so long? Were you in Qalān?”

  Huldar let him talk. How could he explain? Eventually the inquisition stalled, but he just shook his head. He needed more time to digest his experience.

  Nachiel seemed close to tears. It was as if you’d left with a navigator, or got lost in Qalān … or died.

  “Well, I’m certainly very much alive,” Huldar said, “and I’m sorry to have worried you. I’ll explain later, but truly, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  As they turned for the campsite, Huldar couldn’t stop wondering – what did it mean when the planet said he had come? Breaker and redeemer … Was it a prophecy? How was it that a planet could speak, and that he could understand?

  The remainder of the day was spent walking through forests and wrestling with local Qalān, then, after a speedy evening meal where Nachiel and Gento were uncharacteristically quiet, he put his questions to rest as they set out on a nocturnal survey.

  They chose to explore territory they’d already covered in daylight. Although the bitter cold pressed down on them there was no snow – compared to what they’d experienced at base-camp the conditions seemed almost temperate. As they made their way along the broad floor of a steep ravine, the clacks and whistles of thousands of creatures filled their ears.

  When Gento pointed out a small lizard with a phosphorescent crest, they paused to see what it would do. Tiny bugs drawn to the light battered against it, but the lizard waited motionless beside a small pile of dirt and appeared to ignore them. A sudden trickle of grains slid down the side of the mound. The lizard’s upper arms folded slowly back like springs ready to strike. As an insectoid burrower pushed through the crest ignited with flickering bands of color, and they caught a brief glimpse of something little more than eyes and abdomen before the glow-lizard pounced.

  “Well!” Huldar said as the lizard munched its prize, “Beauty is as beauty does – but Breath, it’s cold!”

  “Time to get back?”

  “Certainly is.”

  By the time they returned to their campsite, the fire had all but gone out and a lace of brittle hoar caked the guy-ropes.

  Huldar stamped his feet to warm them. “Can you pass me one of those shawls?”

  “Here, one each!” said Nachiel. He held the last one to his face. “Mum knitted it for me. Blue kressie-wool makes it extra warm.” He scowled at the blackened fire-pit. “Gento, do something about that will you?”

  Gento rolled his eyes. “Why is it always me?”

  “Because you’re the best at fires,” Nachiel replied. “It’s a Rukh thing.”

  “And nagging?” Gento teased. “That must be a Nhadu thing. Perhaps the repetitive jaw movement helps you stay warm.”

  Nachiel turned. “Tell him to stop, Huldar … Huldar?

  But Huldar barely heard them. He sat and watched fresh flames kindle then sipped the tea Gento gave him without tasting it. Leth was a House of ecologists. Since the dawn of archangels, this had been their role in the Realm, and yet he knew of no one besides the leader of their guild who had ever communicated with a planet – and even then, had it been a conversation? He didn’t think so. Perhaps it was not the planet that had spoken … perhaps it was something else. And what of the orange stone? Was it mere coincidence that he’d found it at the same time?

  “You’re very quiet,” Nachiel said.

  “I’m fine, really!” Huldar reassured him. “Have you noticed the eye-placement of the life-forms here? Many we’ve seen have multiple eyes, or occasionally just one. Have we seen any with just two eyes?”

  “No, come to think of it,” said Nachiel.

  “I’m too tired to think at all,” Gento muttered. “Ready to turn in.”

  Huldar nodded. “I won’t be far behind you. Good work today, my friends, good work.” He sat in silence and listened to the flames, and when the crackle had been joined by muffled snores he reclaimed the orange stone from Qalān and held it cupped in his palm.

  “What have you got to tell me?” he murmured. “I wonder where you come from?” When he picked it up between his fingertips to hold it closer to the fire, he noticed a faint hum. “Ah ha! A beacon stone? But you’ve lost strength over time and your call’s nearly faded away.” He turned the pebble in his fingertips. If I can identify the exact charm, I might even know who sung it.

  Gradually, enough notes surfaced and Huldar recognized an older style of song no longer in common use. With gentle voice he refurbished its power, but not enough of the original remained for him to discern who had made it. Maybe the pebble’s planet of origin would be a further clue, and for that, he would need to ask Tsemkarun Andel. The thought made his heart beat faster and he put the stone away.

  The next morning, he crunched across the frost to where he had found it. If someone else had been here and used Qalān, there would be traces.

  When he placed his palms against the ground and concentrated, he found that, sure enough, there had once been a portal close by. It was old and decayed now but proof of a former Annangi visitation! Although the resonance was faint, he sensed the jangle of work done without proper negotiation. The singer must have been quite powerful to use Qalān in this way, he thought. Definitely a Shamkarun, maybe even a navigator. No self-respecting Lethian would force a portal so.

  He attuned himself to its path and found it exited onto a long sheltered bay on the shores of the inner sea, not too far from the straits. He frowned as he recalled how adamant Duvät Gok had been about having portals on the inner shores, yet now he was just as determined they should stay away.

  With a whisper, he connected to the husk of the decayed portal and prepared to re-establish it, this time with proper respect, but Gento’s call to breakfast cut his efforts short.

  “Never fear,” he whispered, “I’ll be back soon to patch you up. Have you working smoothly in no time!”

  _______

  Many days later, the team had established that the area was free of dangerous predators and, although still watchful, they felt comfortable increasing the range of their individual journeys. However, the slug population seemed determined to make their own explorations and found the campsite particularly intriguing. Huldar set the usual critter-deterrent wards, but although the onslaught slowed, he had yet to find a song that would keep the more adventurous from coming inside.

  On a bright spring-like morning, as he followed a flock of them through the strap-trees, hoping to find a natural defense, Nachiel called, Huldar! Come quick!

  He squinted to the north. The summons seemed urgent, but there was no sense of danger.

  On my way, he said, and a few minutes later he stepped through one of his newer portals into the gloom of a slot-like ravine, as close as may be to where Nachiel and Gento were working.

  Over here! Nachiel called.

  The narrow space opened into a broad keyhole canyon with towering walls. Huldar pushed through the forest, careful not to step on any slugs or damage too much foliage. His hand waved to fend off a cloud of buzzing wings that burst from their roost in a wide pink flower. Vines coiled and un-coiled, sensitive to his touch. Many plants already bore fruit, and he made a mental note to have Alis or Ubaid test t
heir properties.

  Through the dense trunks of the understory he glimpsed the flash of a shirt.

  Lady Andel’s going to love this! Gento said.

  At first he thought it was shadows, or a trick of the light, but as he got closer, he saw that the striped lines on the ravine walls were seams of quartz. Nachiel waved, urging him to come quickly. Excitement made their hazes bright.

  Gento pointed. Look at this!

  Huldar paused as the sight sank in. Within the shining bands of crystal ran yellow veins of gold that ramified like Qalān on a planet. He ran his fingers over rivers of metal. This would surely bring a smile to the Overlord’s face. As he sighted along the glittering seam, he realized it was aimed more or less at the area where he’d found the beacon.

  Maybe it was left behind to mark a potential gold mine, he thought, but if that’s the case, why the portal to the inner sea?

  It was Gento who found it, Nachiel said, and the big Rukh beamed. I thought it was more slug trails, and then he called me over and I nearly dropped my stylus!

  “Let’s get some samples,” Huldar said. “I’ll start a feasibility study right away. This should keep the Gok happy.”

  “He’ll say, ‘Told you so.’ I can hear him now!” Nachiel raised his shoulders. “So annoying. What would he know?”

  Huldar smiled. “Well, it was Lady Andel, actually. She thought we might find more gold here and she was right.”

  VISITATION

  In the weeks following the discovery in the ravines, time for relaxation became scarce. An initial study of key environmental elements was required, but identification of ecological corner stones took time, patience and a keen ear for the song of the planet. In addition to this, Huldar had to make scheduled visits to other groups and write regular reports.

  On an afternoon of sunshine after a morning of storms and rain, the humidity within the canyon was on the rise. Huldar sat on a rock and brushed a cloud of gnatish creatures from his face as he checked his notes.