Memory Seed

by Stephen Palmer

  ‘There’s her house,’ deKray said, pointing through the downpour. Lightning briefly illuminated the scene. The gardens all around were flooded, but Arrahaquen thought they could struggle through, following Graaff-lin’s own path.

  They waded down the alley, able now to see that the river beyond had burst its banks. A few frogs croaked at them, and they noticed a sodden cat, which Arrahaquen shot, though it already looked half dead. She led them around the front of the house and into the porch, then hammered on the front door. ‘Graaff-lin, it’s Arrahaquen and deKray!’

  No answer. There was a small porthole beside the door. Arrahaquen stood on tip-toe and peered through. She saw a figure on the floor, amidst piles of paper, a figure armed with a long-nose rifle. Automatically she ducked.

  ‘What?’ deKray and Qmoet asked simultaneously.

  ‘She’s armed. Long-noser pointing right at me!’

  ‘Go away!’ came a faint voice.

  ‘Graaff-lin, come on. We’ve got almost no time left–’

  ‘Leave me alone!’ Graaff-lin replied.

  Arrahaquen hammered the door again, angered. ‘Just open up,’ she called. She twisted the handle and shook the door, but it was locked, and probably barred or bolted. ‘Open up!’ she yelled.

  ‘Get out of here, heathens!’

  ‘Couldn’t we force an entry from the back?’ Qmoet asked.

  ‘She’d hear us and fire,’ Arrahaquen said. ‘We could get in, yes, but she might just shoot. She sounds mad.’

  ‘We cannot simply leave her,’ deKray said.

  Arrahaquen hammered the door once more, her hands hunched into fists. ‘Open up!’ she shouted.

  DeKray turned away, as if to hide his emotional reaction. Qmoet’s face was set in a grimace.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ Graaff-lin repeated, over and over.

  ‘It’s hopeless,’ Arrahaquen said, taking both by the shoulder and hugging them to her. ‘We’re wasting too much time. We’ve got to get back.’

  ‘We cannot leave her,’ deKray said, his face screwed up with despair.

  ‘No choice,’ Arrahaquen said. She pushed them out of the porch. They had to leave: quickly. The diversion had been a waste of time. They needed to make the Clocktower as soon as possible.

  They ran back to the river at Pine Street, but saw that it would be impossible for them to return the way they had come. ‘We’ll have to go up to Onion Street, then past the Dead Spirits temple,’ Arrahaquen said.

  The alleys up to Onion Street were passable, but the street itself was choked with poisonous ferns, some the deadly variety armed with hollow needles like nettles. By slashing a path through they managed to fight their way down to the temple, but the effort required was great, and Arrahaquen’s arms ached fit to drop by the time they were through. The rain beat down, its noise overwhelming.

  The Dead Spirits temple was a wreck. A few walls stood upright, but the building had collapsed in on itself and already the tops of saplings poked out. Corpses lay under rubble on the cracked alabaster steps. They hurried past.

  Welcomed by the others as they returned, Arrahaquen first took a stimulant tablet – three left in her last bottle – then described what had happened. Everyone were stunned. Everybody had assumed that Graaff-lin would want to join them. Losing her seemed to set them back, and Arrahaquen felt their despair. ‘Forget it,’ she said, roughly. ‘Time to move on. Get packed, get those jacqana moving. Come on!’

  But Ash Lane proved too difficult. Mud surged down, carrying rubble and exploding fruits. Having toiled for a hundred yards, Arrahaquen conceded defeat and ordered a retreat. But, as quick as she thought of it, she outlined her new plan. ‘Back up to the Dead Spirits, around the back, then up Tode Lane to Market Square.’ No dissension: Arrahaquen turned and led the way.

  DeKray was pounced upon by a dog as they turned into the lane surrounding the temple. Ky shot first, but missed; Arrahaquen, at his side, shot next and hit. The starving hound yelped and limped away. DeKray was badly bitten on his arm, hand and thigh; they pooled kit resources and administered antibiotics and an antiseptic pad, before bandaging his wounds. But worse was to come. They had not moved on before the wall to their side, separating the temple’s own alley from Tode Lane, collapsed. Tashyndy, Ky and Maharyny were cut off, though little injured, and had to spend precious minutes climbing mounds of rubble to rejoin the party.

  Arrahaquen urged them on. Tode Lane was muddy, in places dangerous because of potholes, but they managed to reach Market Square. Qmoet tripped and fell, spraining her ankle. The street was crumbling below their feet.

  Then hail began to fall. The speed of its descent caused Arrahaquen to quail. It struck them like so many tiny bullets, and her face became numb from the attack. She could hardly open her eyes.

  Tugging them individually through the briars and nettle clumps of the square, she and deKray ensured all were through before running, bent over for protection, back into Ash Lane. Hardly able to shout over the noise, Arrahaquen ran along the single line – pressed against the ruins of houses – then led them on, up the gentle climb towards the Clocktower. Soon she hoped she would see it, for once they had passed Salvia Street, perhaps only minutes away, they were as good as there.

  With a crack the street pavement gave way. Maharyny toppled backward. A subterranean channel had disintegrated and the priestess lay flailing ten feet below. Fungal bodies like silken cushions flopped upon her. Before anybody could even think of rope she was smothered, one twisting leg visible; then nothing.

  The fungus shivered. Water and hail began to fill the pit.

  Distraught, Tashyndy tried to climb down, but Arrahaquen and deKray held her back. ‘It’s too late. She’s dead.’

  Arrahaquen dragged Tashyndy away from the still cracking pit, hauling her like a sodden mannequin up to where the others stood.

  Tashyndy paused for a moment to pray.

  They stumbled on. Ash Lane vegetation was beaten to shreds, but the hail was worse. She could see no further than twenty yards ahead.

  And then, as she passed a gap in the rubble to her left that marked Salvia Street, she saw a tall shadow – the Clocktower. ‘There!’ she yelled, shaking Qmoet out of the trance that had enveloped her. ‘There!’ she cried to deKray, pointing.

  Lightning flashed. ‘I see it!’ Qmoet shouted, her face transformed.

  ‘Where?’ deKray shouted. ‘I can’t see it.’

  Arrahaquen urged them on, waiting for the other pair to catch up. ‘It’s up there!’ she yelled to each in turn; and it seemed that they redoubled their efforts, though Zinina weighed them down. One of the jacqana had not made it; two passed by, their bodies clanging in response to the hail. Woof seemed close to collapse. Arrahaquen grabbed the hound by the scruff of the neck and tugged her on, following the trail in the hail left by the others.

  DeKray had stopped to wait for her, letting Qmoet go on alone. ‘I do not see it,’ he yelled into her ear.

  ‘Up there!’ she replied, pointing. It was quite clear now, a hundred yards away. She could see the luminous orange clock-face at its top.

  ‘Where?’

  Shouts behind her. She ignored them.

  ‘DeKray, what can you see?’

  ‘Hail–’

  A laser beam flashed by. Arrahaquen jumped, then fell, caught off balance. None of her group carried lasers.

  DeKray slid and fell. Arrahaquen turned and thought she saw shadows running from behind a low wall leading to the Clocktower yard.

  Tashyndy and Ky, who possessed no weapons, were lying on their stomachs. Arrahaquen pulled her needle rifle from its holster and fired at random. She could not see Qmoet.

  A beam flickered in front of her face, momentarily blinding her.

  DeKray yelled at her side and shouts came from up ahead. The attackers were running, sliding everywhere.

  Arrahaquen aimed and fired a salvo. One fell.

  ‘Get her! Get that one!’ chorused shouting voices.

  Anothe
r beam from a new direction: a green beam.

  Somebody screamed. Woof yelped.

  ‘Watch out!’

  Arrahaquen tried to dig herself into the slurry of hailstones for cover. She aimed and fired at a shadow but, just after she pulled the trigger, realised it was Ky. She screamed and jerked her rifle away.

  But Ky had fallen.

  ‘Fire!’ a voice shouted.

  From the right: ‘Get down!’

  A series of needles flew past her face. She ducked. Somebody fell close by.

  ‘Now!’

  Another laser beam.

  Shout to her left: ‘Run!’

  One attacker’s laser blew; a flash like lightning, then sparks. Arrahaquen saw a writhing silhouette, aimed, and fired off a whole cartridge of needles. The rifle stank of burnt oil.

  Another red flash; a scream.

  She reloaded. Woof yelped again, and this time it sounded agonised. Something exploded near the yard wall.

  Arrahaquen had no idea who was down or who was up. Everybody was hiding or out of it. But she dared not rise, or shout.

  A figure groped its way towards her.

  There was another massive explosion at the wall, its flash as bright as lightning. Was it a laser?

  Somebody fell at her side. Arrahaquen jumped and twisted around, but it was only Qmoet. ‘One of them left,’ she gasped, pointing. ‘Fire!’

  Seeing nobody, Arrahaquen risked all. She got to her feet, crouched, then ran helter-skelter away from the Clocktower. She tripped over a body, and fell.

  ‘There!’

  A shadow stood. It did not seem familiar.

  No option but to shoot. Arrahaquen twisted and fired.

  The shadow screeched and fell.

  Somebody emerged from the hail... it was deKray. Blood-soaked, he staggered to her side. ‘Revellers! They all dead?’

  ‘I think so!’

  Shielding her eyes from the hail Arrahaquen tried to count survivors. ‘To the Clocktowerl’ she yelled at deKray.

  He grabbed her. ‘But I still do not see it!’

  Arrahaquen snatched his arm and pulled him along the street, making for the brick courtyard that surrounded the tower.

  ‘Where?’ deKray yelled. ‘Where?’

  Horror gripped Arrahaquen as she looked into his staring eyes and realised that he really could not see it. Pulling him through the others as they slipped, slid and fell around the yard, she forced him on.

  ‘There!’ she shouted at him.

  He seemed panicky. ‘All I can see is but a yard!’

  She pulled him by the arm right up to the wall and slammed his hand into it. But he was unaware of what she had done.

  Somebody jumped from behind the tower. Arrahaquen flinched and saw a rotten reveller face with distended lips and staring eyes.

  It raised a laser and fired at deKray.

  He toppled backwards into the hail. Arrahaquen discharged the rest of her needles into the creature. It fell back.

  Frozen, Arrahaquen stood, rifle nozzles smoking. Red-stained hail lay all around her.

  Screaming for help she sank to her knees, pulling deKray around so she could see his face. He did not move. Shaking him, she screamed and screamed.

  Tashyndy careered over, tripping and falling at her side. ‘Goddess, he’s dead,’ Arrahaquen said. There was red water all around his body.

  ‘Can’t be,’ Tashyndy said. She thrust Arrahaquen out of her way, ripping away his upper clothes then groaning and looking away. There was blood everywhere. The brief glimpse Arrahaquen got before Tashyndy wrapped him again was of a mangled chest.

  Desperation woke her. She screamed out, lungs bursting, ‘To the tower! To the tower now!’

  She crawled back through the hail. Qmoet appeared beside her. ‘Bring everybody!’ Arrahaquen shouted.

  She crawled on. Earth’s every energy tried to halt her.

  Now at the Clocktower door, she stood and turned the handle, then kicked the door open. Inside, pale blue light illuminated a stony chamber.

  Tashyndy tripped over the sill and collapsed into the chamber, crying out. Qmoet hopped over, then also fell.

  Arrahaquen yelled, ‘Where’s Ky? Where’s Zinina?’

  ‘Is Zinina outside?’ Tashyndy called back.

  ‘Just Ky, Zinina, the dog–’

  Arrahaquen, almost blinded by the hail, turned around and slid away from the tower, tripping over another body. Then she saw Woof, lying still, her head blown away.

  She slipped and slid around the yard.

  Tashyndy ran to her. ‘Ky... there! Help me pull her in.’

  Arrahaquen staggered over to Ky’s prone body, to see needles buried in her chest, her clothes charred, her face scarred. They pulled her to the door, but Ky’s body was limp. Arrahaquen looked down and knew that she was dead.

  She and Tashyndy held hands, gripping tight. ‘Where’s Zinina?’

  ‘Over by the yard wall?’

  They slid over, finding Zinina. Crawling, they dragged her back to the door. Ball lightning shot along Nul Street. Forked lightning struck the wall. The detonation threw them aside.

  Arrahaquen recovered her balance and began dragging Zinina to the door. Qmoet tried to tug her inside, but lacked the strength.

  Arrahaquen jumped in, but tripped and fell. Tashyndy stumbled into the tower.

  Only Zinina left. She lay half in, half out of the Clocktower.

  Arrahaquen was too exhausted to move.

  Tashyndy slapped her face. ‘Pull her in!’

  Arrahaquen couldn’t. It was too much.

  She heard voices calling out. Zinina was pulled inside.

  Somebody slammed the door shut.

  CHAPTER 30

  Green city.

  To the north, nothing remained except piles of rubble indistinguishable from natural outcrops of rock, covered with moss and grass, hidden by bush and tree, dark green, emerald, olive, occasionally yellow or white in the summer rain. Northern plains were criss-crossed with animal tracks. Through these uplands a river passed, flowing towards cliffs, becoming a waterfall, then flowing on until it met the glowing sea.

  Further south, ruins stood like teeth in a skeleton, green with algae and red with rust. West of the river, a verdigris-covered tower stood unchanged by the plants. East of the river stood a slimmer tower. In the far south there rose a single tongue of black plastic, dotted here and there with birds’ nests. In these flowered, colourful places, butterflies fluttered, great quantities of them produced by the heat and the profusion of nectar. There were tiny meadows filled to bursting with cowslips, ferns, hogweed, and also with nettles and docks boasting leaves as large as a water lily’s.

  Southern parts remained flooded, slime and algae slapped across brick and stone, covering floods with scum. Here and there tiny leaves showed where other plants had found a roothold. Insects swarmed across these turbid pools and lakes, mosquitoes and daddy-longlegs, flies and boaters. Beetles swam. Larvae choked the multitude of growing spaces. In Eastcity there was a plague of fleas. Food was plentiful.

  Eventually, when the meat provided by the year’s glut of corpses became too bad to eat, the hawks and vultures departed for further fields. Time passed by. Leaves took on bright colours, red and yellow, orange and brown, while animal life, particularly in the south, burst into new living spaces, caves once houses, vaults once cellars, eyries and ledges.

  Gases bubbled from fermenting vegetation while from rotting things anaerobic bacteria produced more.

  A great production of seeds ensued. From all types of plant seeds of every description grew; hard brown cases on some, the size of rats, small black motes on others. Whole pastures were transformed into white down, rising like smoke at the touch of a breeze. These pastures were undisturbed by human footsteps. In other places, especially near the Gardens, some plants produced purple fans, small glittering daggers, arrays of blunt pins.

  As the year progressed, the fruit dropped or rotted or was eaten and burrowed into by
insects; great green wasps with lethal stings, also spiders and the occasional bee. Squirrels harvested, and, on the ground, deer and rabbits, dogs and foxes enjoyed the spree.

  To the south, water-plants produced their fruits, to be consumed by fish and insects, voles and weasels. The stinking pools merged into stinking lakes, so thick in places that even a wind could not disturb their glutinous surfaces. In other areas these pools were alive with insects and grubs.

  The temperature began to fall. Rain abated into showers. Floods settled and the remains of buildings began to show through, already eroded by weather.

  Soon green was muted, especially in the south. In the north, grass plains and bogs expanded, the bushes and trees growing among them bare and brown, and whipped by the wind. Hibernating animals began preparing their hides. Birds flocked in high places, many using the extended horns of the verdigrised tower, others clustering around fallen pylons and the mounts of solar mirrors now crumbling into rust. In dense flocks they waited, until internal calls sent them flying across the ocean.

  Snow fell. Frosts froze over the floods, encasing dead leaves and living tendrils in ice. Cracks and snaps from rock and brick resounded through the city, and buildings were flattened. Snow settled on the ruins and cracked branches.

  In the north, deer foraged; also rabbits and badgers, and even an occasional bear. Birds of prey wheeled overhead, many with new white plumage.

  Southward there was little movement. The ice ponds and lakes were quiet. Elsewhere, robins and sparrows fluttered, and there were rustlings under the snow and debris from scavenging voles and hares, stoats and mink. To the east cat families foraged far and wide, hunting with their envenomed claws, scrabbling through the snow, and padding, backs arched, along the remains of sandstone walls and across precarious roofs.

  More snow fell. Ice stalactites clothed the city, often encasing within their lengths rotten plant material. Huge drifts built up in those few alleys and streets left as such. More buildings collapsed as more snow flurries danced through the air.

  And then, as spring approached, there were hints of new life.

  ~

  Arrahaquen awoke.