Combining the new Apollonians, the crew of The Golden Turtle, and the survivors from Nexus, their group now numbered well over a hundred. As they huddled together with the sun on the ascendance, it was becoming uncomfortably stifling in the shelter. Nevertheless, they waited, and when Hakim in his teacher-like style cleared his throat, they all fell silent.
“Good morning, everyone. I’d normally thank you all for coming, but in this case the majority of you had very little choice. I’m going to try and answer a few questions in this session, and hopefully afterwards we’ll be in a better position to discuss what to do.”
Jack caught Ruth’s eye, and she smirked. Hakim usually took a backseat whilst Sardâr was the one to give these kinds of explanations. For the first time, Jack could now imagine Hakim in his role as a teacher.
“We’re all confused about how we got here—and, for that matter, where here actually is. The readings from The Golden Turtle have been checked and rechecked, and we made no spatial jump in our last journey. Moreover, those Apollonians who have just arrived had no problem locating us as they would have located any other world. There can be only one solution: this planet is Nexus.”
There were instant murmurings, and someone actually snorted. Jack looked around in disbelief. The dusty plains, the trees and shrubberies, the sunset in the sapphire sky—he could hardly imagine anywhere less like the stormy metropolis of the Cult’s world.
Hakim waited a moment, then asserted himself over the mutterings. “As incredible as this sounds, I have a theory to support it. Jack, Dannie, if you would bring your Shards up here, please.”
Not knowing exactly where this was going, Jack complied. He and Dannie stumbled through the seated crowd and handed their crystals over. It only then occurred to Jack how strange it was that they both still had them. He would have thought the first thing the Cult would have done would have been to strip them of these artifacts.
“For those of you who don’t already know,” Hakim continued, holding up the Shards by their threads from each fist, “these are two of the seven Shards of the Risa Star—the most powerful alchemical objects we know of. The Cult was searching for them to power the Aterosa, which they evidently managed to do by other means. Until now, we’ve regarded them only as weapons—we’ve almost ignored the tremendous healing and preserving power they possess. Anyone who has control of one of these has seen his or her life force boosted beyond measure—being able to recover from injuries which would almost certainly have been fatal otherwise. And when the Shards are retracted”—he glanced behind him at Sardâr’s unconscious figure—”the user’s return to mortal level is very much noticeable.”
Jack leaned toward Adâ. “I never got the chance to ask. What happened in the Sveta Mountains? Did you get the Fifth Shard?”
“It’s a long story,” she replied distractedly, still trying to listen to Hakim, “but no, we didn’t. It was gone before either we or the Cult got there.”
“But, you may ask, what has all this got to do with the world we’re in now? Well, it is my belief that we have so far underestimated the true power of the Shards—we have seen them only in mortal use. What would its limits be if one was fully unleashed? Could it sustain life even for an entire planet under the ocean?”
There were more murmurings at this. Jack was beginning to see where this was going, but the leap in logic Hakim had made was a huge one.
“The Aterosa was sabotaged, and what presumably should have been some kind of cannon or bomb imploded, apparently dragging the entire city and ocean into the Darkness. If I am correct, we are still on the same planet but several thousand miles beneath where Nexus once was. This world around us”—he raised his arms as if to take in the entire landscape—”was here all along, hidden beneath the waves and maintained by an as yet undiscovered Shard of the Risa Star.”
“So what you’re suggesting,” Charles said slowly, as if trying to make sense of it even as he spoke, “is that there is another Shard of the Risa Star—by a process of deduction, either the Second or the Fourth—that has existed on this planet since before the Cult even arrived. That would suggest some event, some kind of monumental deluge, occurred in this world’s past to render it in the state it was in only days ago.”
“Exactly. We don’t currently know what that was, but we have hope of finding out. The level of life on this world is astounding—not only rudimentary bacteria but beings as complex as plants and animals. This is even more amazing when we consider that all of this has presumably been maintained without the presence of a sun. Given all this, the existence of higher life forms at one time or another is not only possible but probable.”
“Sorry, guys,” Dannie cut in, “but for us lot who didn’t go to school that much… or at all, you’re basically saying there was a whole world underneath that other one? And there might have been people down here too?”
“Sorry for the intellectualism. And, yes, that’s essentially it. This is where the majority of you come in.” He was now addressing the crowd of refugees, most of them floor-bound with injuries. “I’ve interviewed a few of you, and it seems the Cult didn’t have quite the stranglehold over the population of Nexus that they thought they did. Many of you were imprisoned for political dissidence, and many more now confess to having had doubts about the government and state religion. For the remainder, I’m sure doubt will come in time. From what we know about the Cult’s activities, their existence and reign over Nexus can only have gone back five hundred years at the most—not long enough for legends of a pre-Cult world to have completely died out. Delilah, could you perhaps repeat what you told me yesterday?”
An elderly woman nodded meekly and sat up so the crowd could see her better. She spoke, like the other refugees, in a heavy accent Jack thought sounded like something from central Africa. “My grandmother used to tell me stories when I was a child, stories that she said had been passed down through our family, stories about an ancient people called zöpüta who lived on this land. They had been created by a goddess, who left a divine crystal behind to look after them. But the zöpüta began to fight over its power, and the land was ripped apart by war. Water began to fall from the heavens, and many of the people drowned. Others fled to the mountains, but the waters kept rising. In desperation, the zöpüta prayed, and their prayers were answered. The top of the mountain they had taken refuge in was cleft off and rose into the sky, carrying them far above the ocean.” She finished, her voice hoarse from the speech.
Hakim thanked her. “Looking through the obvious embellishments here, this is a very interesting case. It seems quite possible that Nexus and perhaps even the Cult of Dionysus were originally the result of trying to escape a flooding planet. The people in this tale fled to the skies, whilst the healing power of the Shard kept the planet sustained below the waves. If this theory is correct, then the majority of you sitting before me are in fact the descendants of the last inhabitants of this world. You are all zöpüta.”
This last pronouncement was greeted by deadened silence. The refugees were glancing at each other, mostly in surprise, but some with expressions that plainly said, So what? Jack didn’t blame them. As much as he appreciated Hakim’s intellect, he wasn’t exactly sure what they were supposed to do with this information.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Hakim was beginning to look uncomfortable. He exchanged looks with Charles. “You seem to need time to mull this over. I think all the Apollonians should see to the dimension ships and come back a little later…”
It was their first full day on the planet, and it was far too hot to do anything productive. The Apollonians spent the following hours slumped in the shadow of The Golden Turtle, stripped down to as few layers as possible. The zöpüta had shuffled into the shelter and were now sitting in a semicircle, not unlike some kind of council or parliament, taking turns to speak. They were too far away to hear, and as the proceedings dragged on, some of the Apollonians retreated belowdecks. Only Jack, Ruth, Dannie, and Hakim were left o
utside, sagging against the cool metal.
Typically, only Dannie seemed to have the energy to talk. “Dragging on a bit, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Hakim affirmed, wiping his brow. “But then it’s a lot of information to take in all at once. It’s not going to be easy for them, breaking out of the old mindset. They’ve been locked into the Cult’s system their entire lives, barraged with propaganda for generations. Even for the ones who were tortured for questioning it, this will be tough.”
While the others moved as little as possible, Dannie kept fidgeting. Since the landing, she had made perhaps her most bizarre transformation yet: sprouting a thin layer of fur and large ears, making her look something like a humanoid desert cat. The changes had now become such a usual occurrence that no one really commented on them.
After a few more minutes of silence, Dannie turned to Ruth. “Shouldn’t you be with that lot?”
Ruth blinked at her, then shrugged. “Maybe. I guess I am technically zöpütan. I don’t really feel like one, though.”
“What do you feel like?”
She frowned a little. “I don’t know. Apollonian, I suppose. I guess I’m sort of a hybrid.”
A few more minutes passed. Dannie tried again. “Hey, Jack, your ring’s not working.”
Jack blinked his sagging lids and looked down at his hand. There didn’t seem to be any light glimmering from the symbol, despite the presence of an unknown language. “Maybe the sunlight’s too bright to see it.”
A few more minutes passed. Dannie shifted several times, crossing her legs, uncrossing them, stretching. “How long are they going to take—?”
“Dannie,” Jack and Ruth exclaimed in unison.
“Alright, calm down, just trying to make conversation…”
The sun had passed its highest point when Jack was finally shaken awake by Hakim. The zöpüta council had dispersed, and several emissaries had made their way out from the shelter’s cover to the side of The Golden Turtle. The other Apollonians were in the process of exiting the ship to hear the verdict.
A slender woman, whose right leg was supported by a splint, stood before them. Jack noticed she had the same lion tattoo as Ruth’s on her forearm. She addressed them in an earnest tone. “We’re sorry to keep you waiting for so long. We have had a lot to discuss. Some of us knew each other, some didn’t, before today. We will tell you the details, if you would like to hear them, but for now what matters is this: we have decided, as we now find ourselves without a home, to establish a new community on this planet. Our ancestors lived here, it seems, only several hundred years ago, so our society should be able to thrive.”
Hakim smiled. “That’s what I had hoped.”
“And,” the woman continued, “we find ourselves greatly indebted to you all. What you have done for us is nothing less than an act of selfless heroism. And yet, there is so little we know about you. Where do you come from? How is it you were in Nexus and can speak our language so well? We would be honored if you would share a meal with us this evening.”
Hakim’s smile widened, and he actually embraced the woman. She looked disorientated but not unhappy.
As Jack watched, he felt Ruth’s hand slip into his and squeeze lightly.
Chapter XI
the übermensch
It was only that evening that Jack realized he’d actually never been to a party before. It had used to bother him that Lucy was invited to all the gatherings when he never was, but after that evening, he couldn’t imagine how a group of teenagers drinking in someone’s living room could possibly match up to what they had been treated to.
They’d spent the rest of the afternoon inside The Golden Turtle, sorting out the stocks of provisions and clearing out anything left behind. When they emerged, night had fallen and flickering lights were emanating from the shelter. As they moved closer, it was clear that the zöpüta had been hard at work. The canopy had been extended over more trees, now with something like walls, and the main area had been set out like a giant buffet. Smoky aromas wafted towards them, and Jack felt his stomach rumble. The lights were a series of fires licking an assortment of vegetables and something that probably used to be one of the antelope creatures.
The Apollonians had places reserved around the circle, equally dispersed amongst the zöpüta. Jack sunk into a cross-legged position between a sinewy man and a grandmotherly figure. They ate with their hands out of bowls crafted from something like coconut shells. The food was delicious: Jack couldn’t remember tasting anything as good. After the soot-encrusted meals of Albion and the adequate but minimal rations from The Golden Turtle, it was refreshing to taste something properly organic. Dannie devoured hers within minutes and made straight for second helpings. Only after a fourth or fifth course did Jack put down his bowl, in recognition that his stomach would mutiny if forced to take any more in.
The shelter bubbled with conversation throughout the meal. Jack got talking to the man next to him, who had been among the congregation in the Cathedral. Jack’s initial reservations about the man’s complicity in the Cult’s rule vanished immediately when he learnt that his wife and daughter had been lost in the cataclysm. Jack tried to ease the conversation to a less distressing topic, and they were soon talking about the new world.
The old woman, meanwhile, wanted to know everything about him and the other Apollonians. Feeling a little as if he was telling his life story, Jack explained about Earth, the Cult’s attack, meeting the Apollonians, and everything they’d seen and done since then. All the while she nodded, occasionally volunteering a question or asking him to point someone out around the circle. It was only when he got to the bit about Thorin Salr that he remembered Adâ’s caution to them not to tell any locals about who they truly were. But then, he thought, this must be an exception. These people had seen enough to know there was something beyond their closeted world.
The only Apollonian who looked uncomfortable was Lucy. She sat next to a girl of a similar age, and though the zöpüta kept trying to engage her in conversation, she gave only single-word answers before turning back to her bowl.
Jack assumed the meal would be the end of the evening, but he was completely wrong. Once the last morsels of meat had been scraped off the bones and the vegetables had been devoured entirely, the remnants were cleared away. People started getting to their feet, and Jack followed, not entirely sure what he was meant to be doing. Then, shakily at first but with growing confidence, a drumbeat rose. Another followed at a slightly different rhythm and another, and then came the rattling of some other percussion instrument.
The zöpüta began to shuffle, a little awkwardly to begin with, but with growing confidence. Several broke out into the middle of the circle, tossing their heads back and jumping from one foot to the other. As the beat continued, the group joined in the communal dance.
Jack remained where he was. The man to Jack’s right had been pulled in by a friend.
The old woman squinted at Jack. “Well, if you’re not going, I am.” And she jigged creakily from foot to foot into the crowd.
He looked around for the other Apollonians. Many of them had joined in, though a small group had collected around Charles, either to keep him company or as an excuse not to dance. Jack made his way over.
Hakim shimmied past, accompanied by the emissary from earlier in the day. “I knew the Cult didn’t have complete control, but I was not expecting this!”
“We have a strong tradition of underground music,” the emissary replied over the beat. “Of course, our instruments were destroyed, but we managed to cobble some imitations together this afternoon.”
“Very impressive!”
“Not a dancer then, Jack?” Charles smirked, tapping the rhythm on the arm of his wheelchair. “You should make the most of it. I’d be out there if I could.”
Jack smiled sheepishly and took up a token foot tapping.
Adâ was part of the nondancing group, her face reflecting the intermittent firelight as bodies swoope
d in front of the flames. She wasn’t smiling or even moving at all to the rhythm. With an odd stab of reminiscence, Jack thought of the first time he had met her. She had been extremely tense then, concerned about Sardâr’s well-being, and that had manifested itself as cold impatience. He got a sense of the same tension now.
“How’s Sardâr?” he ventured, making sure only she could hear him.
Adâ exhaled slowly. “He’s… sleeping. That fight with the Emperor took its toll badly, on top of the other recent injuries.”
“But he’s going to get better, isn’t—?”
Ruth burst out of the rippling circle, her face flushed. “Aren’t you joining in?” she addressed Jack, panting.
He glanced distractedly at Adâ, but she shook her head. “I don’t dance,” he said.
“What do you mean you don’t dance?” Ruth tugged at his wrist, and his resistance gave way. She pulled him into the midst of the crowd and began to move her body with the beat.
Jack stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He was very conscious of being the only person in the entire crowd not dancing.
“Come on.” Ruth grinned. “If you really can’t, I’ll show you how.”
She placed her hands on his hips and pulled him closer, rolling him in time with her own motion. He moved his hands to her waist, and they drew nearer still. The flames reflected concave in her eyes. Her breath was warm on his cheek. Then they were kissing.
“I thought so,” Vince called, moving past them with his arms around a zöpütan woman.
Jack and Ruth both laughed, a little abashed.
The Black Rose Page 18