Martian Honeymoon and Beyond the Darkness

Home > Other > Martian Honeymoon and Beyond the Darkness > Page 4
Martian Honeymoon and Beyond the Darkness Page 4

by Stuart J. Byrne


  Education was another matter. Every mature Vanyan was a third order teacher. A third order teacher conveyed knowledge. Leisure was such that every younger Vanyan could find a teacher of the third order and acquire knowledge at will. Motivation was such that the students learned on the basis of personal volition. There was no institute of third order learning, but knowledge was dispensed with an underlying pattern of prescribed order-on the unit system. Certain broad units of knowledge were delineated for mastery. When the student could demonstrate a satisfactory accumulation of knowledge, he sought out those second order teachers who actually made it a life's work to guide the minds of others. A second order teacher was on the social level of our most prominent medical specialists. He taught intelligence, or developed it. The application of knowledge, and the evaluation of it.

  It was only the first order teacher who lived in a structure designed for mental instruction. There were many such “sky islands” dedicated to first order education. A first order Master dedicated his life to the awakening of wisdom in his advanced pupils. He could take them to a secluded spot on the planet and spend weeks there, if he chose, without interruption. Sometimes there were no lectures at all, nor any discussions. There was only an exemplary way of life-a grasping of concepts for which there was no word ideation possible. Wisdom could not be taught, actually. It was acquired through the method of exposure to higher wisdom.

  Thus-new Mars, a Shangri La surpassing all others...

  * * * *

  My first instruction was in language. And my charming third order teacher was none other than Kria, herself. Thanks to an extensive academic background in philology and a highly sensitive "Sprachgefuhl,” or language feeling, I was able to find my way gradually through the intricacies of a language that had no limitation on the number of its grammatical cases or its types of declensions. Once one mastered the key to the underlying basic language of inflections, original composition of the whole morphology was possible, and in each case the listener would be able to understand and appreciate the method of expression. Here was a place where the true poet was envied, indeed! As a philologist I could digress at great length on this subject, but that would lie beyond the scope of my objectives here.

  The most eloquent commentary I can make in regard to the Vanyan language is that its poetry could never be translated. An attempt at translation would be like the crash of a tree in a forest where there were no ears to hear. I have read poems or heard songs written in three different ways, all with the same words, the same rhyme and meter, but with subtle changes in inflections or declensions which brought about increasing intensities of meaning, or sometimes a different meaning entirely, often conveying a concept not attainable through words alone. Thus far can description go, but no farther.

  Weeks passed, and months passed, while I lived and moved about in a world of dreams more poignantly vivid than any reality which my own world could have offered. News trickled through, from time to time, regarding events on Earth. I was even aware that Earthmen had come to Mars, that some of them were even residents there, on a temporary basis, for technical reasons. But I never saw them during the first few months of my sojourn. I succumbed to the overwhelming charm of this synthetic little world, to the point of irresponsibility. There was something there waiting for me to absorb-wordless, indescribable. I felt its slow development in me without being able to describe it other than to say that, perhaps, I was becoming, in fact, a Vanyan.

  * * *

  CHAPTER VI

  AT the end of the fifth month, I was ready to really have a talk with Kria. My basic vocabulary and mastery of the inflection key enabled me to compose new meanings and thus get my point across. There were many things I wanted to know. There was much that I had to say-to her alone. By this time I was an established member of Sanal's household, and many mysteries had presented themselves to me which demanded an explanation. For example, so far I had not seen one Vanyan child ... Nor a very old man or woman.

  At my request, they had moved their “sky island” into a picturesque valley which was just over the hill from the plain of Tharsis, on which stood the permanent center of the Vanyan civilization. From the hilltops you could see the marble-hued towers of the Palace of the Council and the simpler lines of the Central Research Laboratory, in addition to dozens of the flying discs which were always on hand. Beyond lay the shimmering expanse of the new Sea of Tharsis, and along its shores were atmosphere plants, releasing oxygen from the soil and augmenting the processes of evaporation from the sea.

  We had taken a walk to see the sunset, and naturally we turned our steps toward my favorite spot, at the foot of a waterfall, by a beautiful pool, from which point of vantage we could look out upon the plain and the sea. There were young trees about us, but the chief item of vegetation was a vine that grew everywhere, rapidly sheltering the soil and conserving it against erosion from the frequent and sudden showers. One other type of vine bore large, white blossoms at this time of the Martian year. It grew up the cliffside on either side of the waterfall, making of the whole place an area of pristine beauty, a place for meditation and, I knew, love-making.

  Kria wore the traditional Vanyan veil sarong, which hardly concealed her beautiful form, and a gentle wind from the sea pressed it enchantingly against her. As for my own apparel, I had adopted the dress of Vanyan men, which consisted of little more than a short, split skirt and the equivalent of a G-string, plus sandals. Drganu had presented me with a jeweled medallion which I wore around my neck. It distinguished me as a guest of honor living under the protection of the house of Sanal. A simple series of exercises had helped me to put muscle tone back into my physique so that now I was not ashamed to match contours with any of the Vanyans. Even in outward appearance I was getting to be like them.

  A description of this setting would not be complete without mention of the sleth, a three foot, silvery globe that accompanied us, floating through the air and guided by a small box of controls and electronic gear attached to my waist. The Vanyans were addicted to moods as many Earthmen are to a graceful indulgence in alcoholics. They could not be happy for very long without music. The sleth was a floating portable radio, of sorts, but which filled the surrounding area with three-dimensional music. The symphonic notes seemed to emanate from everywhere, until you felt you were a part of them. After due adjustment to the effects of a sleth, you ceased hearing the music, and there was only the mood-like a subtle addition to one's personality. It was like feeling “high,” but infinitely refined in its subtleties.

  I did not know, as yet, that the sleth had other functions ... At which time, I suppose, it might be called a sleeth, or a slith, depending on the shades of meaning which were applicable in relation to its activities...

  “Kria,” I said, abruptly, after a considerable period of silence during which we had watched the distant natural sun sink out of sight and observed the rise of a synthetic, nearer sun, “why are there no children, or old people here?"

  She answered me with silence. I looked at her and found her eyes surveying me with an expression which could only be interpreted as sorrow-or perhaps wistfulness.

  Finally, she said-and somewhat hesitantly. I thought-"Perhaps it is time to tell you more about my race. Sooner or later, you would have to know..."

  Which remark left me waiting for her to continue. I waited.

  “We are immortals—"

  "You-what!"

  “There is no death unless it is willed. Of course-violent destruction—"

  “But-to live forever-how is that possible! No, skip that. Tell me this. How old are you-really?"

  “By Earth years, I am as young as you."

  “Then-not long ago you were a child..."

  Again, the wistfulness. “I was—” She hesitated, groping for words. “Yes. Yes, I was a child."

  “Then why don't I see any children of a newer generation?"

  “We are immortals. New-that is, an increase in the population is a serious thing. There is
a very strict control on that."

  “You mean birth control."

  “Well, yes ... You see, when someone chooses to die, another Vanyan can come into being. During this important period of our transference to a new world, there is no time for such considerations. Later, when things have become quite well established, the oldest philosophers will go and make way for the youngsters again."

  “Oh. But you know, the same relationship does not seem to exist here between man and woman as it does on Earth. You're all quite indifferent to each other's attractions, just like so many brothers and sisters. Don't any of you ever fall in love?"

  The sleth, as though responding to our moods, rose to a crescendo with its music, then faded to a whispering lament that was barely audible above the roar of the waterfall.

  Kria grasped my hand, tightly. “There is love,” she said, quickly.

  “So? In that case, what do lovers do?” I was being deliberately pointed in my remarks. I held on to her hand, not willing to let it go.

  We were playing breathtaking games with our eyes. It was a sort of duel, and I must have broken through her guard.

  “Oh Ray!” she suddenly cried out. And she was in my arms.

  I crushed her to me and kissed her, and she responded with all the feverish thirst for love that had been pent up within myself.

  “Kria,” I whispered to her, when I could catch my breath, “didn't you know this was happening?"

  “Yes, yes! I did!” she exclaimed. And with that, she pushed away from me. There were no tears in her eyes, but there should have been, from the looks of her.

  I have mentioned before that there was much to be seen in Kria's eyes that was a fascinating mystery-something vast, terrifying and unutterably beautiful, like an awareness of a pitiful cry that wants to reach you but can't, as though the gods were trapped in a bottle at the bottom of some lost ocean and were crying out, unheard. This is what I saw in her eyes now. It was a distant pleading that was forbidden expression “Kria, darling!” I blurted out, taking her into my arms again. “What is it?"

  She only sought my lips and clung to me in unutterable desperation. Then at last she said, “There are things I should tell you-yet I can't. But I love you!"

  Love was a sword that had cut many a Gordian knot cleanly through. The immortal opening lines of Oscar Wilde's Panthea came to me, accompanied by indescribable music from the sleth:

  "Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire,

  From Passionate pain to deadlier delight,

  I am too young to live without desire,

  Too young art thou to waste this summer night

  Asking those idle questions which of old

  Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told."

  I picked her up in my arms and carried her over to a large, flat rock next to the pool. She lay there silently until I lay her down on the rock and kneeled there looking down at her.

  Then she said, “Something I should tell you cannot be told, but someday—"

  I kissed her. “Someday you mean everything will be straightened out?"

  “Yes! Oh Ray, I swear it!” She reached out for me...

  “For sweet, to feel is better than to know,

  And wisdom is a childless heritage,

  One pulse of passion-youth's first fiery glow,

  Are worth the hoarded proverbs of the sage:

  Vex not thy soul with dead philosophy,

  Have we not lips to kiss with, hearts to love, and eyes to see!"

  These lines were but a mild reflection of what the ingenious sleth was singing to us on high, as pale Deimos rose to face the diminutive Vanyan sun across the Sea of Tharsis and I lay beside my love.

  * * * *

  Suddenly, the sleth became silent, and Kria suddenly tensed, staring up at it. She sat up quickly, pushing herself away from me, straightening her hair.

  “Kria!” came the voice of Sanal, her father.

  When I looked up at the sleth I saw there his face looking down upon us. He was not angered, nor was he smiling his blessing upon us. He was sad.

  “Come home, you two...” Before we could argue about it, his face disappeared. And the sleth was silent. It hovered, waiting for us to leave.

  I looked at Kria, embarrassed and a trifle piqued. “Do you mean to say that the sleth is also a visiscope?"

  She nodded. “It's all right,” she answered, taking my hand and getting up. “It was all coming to this. It will be interesting to hear what Sanal has to say."

  When we came “home,” just over the hill, both Sanal and Drganu were waiting for us. They had a way of studying us both that angered me. It was like prying into a private world that belonged to only the two of us.

  “So you have seen us,” I said, hotly. “It's just as well. I'm going to marry Kria...” An inane sort of puppy defense, but it was all I could think of at the moment.

  “Come in,” said Sanal. “I want to talk to you.” Which was obvious.

  We all went inside.

  Sanal sat down and studied us a long time again before he spoke. “You realize, of course,” he said, “that this is the first case of personal attraction between Earthman and Vanyan. Have you considered the possible consequences?"

  Since the question was directed at me, I answered, “There are always consequences. We are in love. The consequence is-we want to get married."

  “I know. I know. But you are not aware of the facts in regard to our race..."

  I stood up, impatient, fists suddenly clenched. “Then let me in on it!” I blurted out. “What's the big secret? Do you go into chrysalis at fifty and turn into bugeyed monsters!"

  “Raymond!” admonished Kria. She sounded like my wife already, but I liked it.

  “On the contrary,” replied Sanal, gravely, “you might say that our hidden secret contains the reverse of an unhappy ending. I only wish to warn you that we do possess a racial secret, and that you must never ask us whence we really came, for if we told you the truth it might spoil your marriage with Kria-yet if you waited long enough there would be no need for telling you anything, because the whole thing will right itself, in time."

  This was the reverse of the Lohengrin theme. I looked into Kria's eyes, wondering if there were a swan song stored within her that I might have to listen to at a later date.

  “Kria,” I asked her, “for our sake I'd like to have you answer just one question. Would you call your marriage to me a deception?” Drganu and Sanal exchanged serious glances, then looked at Kria.

  “Sanal has warned you,” she answered. “The end result of our marriage will be perhaps even more than you have wished for. Therefore, I see no deception."

  “You know,” I said to the three of them, “I think we're going around in circles. Kria and I want to be married."

  Drganu and Sanal smiled and got to their feet. Kria gave a little cry and ran to me. My arm went around her, and Sanal placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “Congratulations!” he said, forgetting for the moment the Earthly custom of shaking hands.

  I grasped his hand and shook it, and Drganu offered me his. I gladly accepted them as my new “in-laws."

  “Regarding a home for you,” said Sanal, “we will have to apply to the Council for that. Or did you have in mind taking up residence back on Earth again?"

  “Well, I guess I can't stay on Mars too long without renouncing my citizenship, so perhaps Kria and I had better plan on going to Earth-after we are married."

  The three Vanyans stared at each other.

  “But—” said Kria, “darling, we are married!"

  I think I gaped at her.

  “You see,” said Drganu, “in our civilization the graver the decision one makes, such as this one you two have made, the closer it is attached to honor. If the decision is sacred, so is the honor that seals the bargain. Ceremony would merely be a mockery of that which words should not attempt to express."

  “Of course I will see to it that this is registered with the Coun
cil,” said Sanal.

  “Wait a minute!” I interrupted them. “If I ever want to take Kria back to my own world and present her as my wife, I'll have to satisfy the requirements of our own laws. There has to be a legal ceremony and a proper registration of this."

  “That might be arranged,” said Sanal. “Already certain government officials from various countries of Earth have set up what you call ‘consular’ offices here, for the purpose of legalizing Vanyan visits to Earth and keeping track of Earth citizens on Mars. You might—"

  “Come to think of it, I really have been out of touch with my own world. If such procedures have been established here already, I'm staying here illegally. I'd better make contact with the United States consul, if there is one here, and reinstate myself as a citizen. Then at the same time I can look into the matter of a wedding."

  * * *

  CHAPTER VII

  DRGANU accompanied Kria and me to the U.S. Consul's office in the Palace of the Council. The three of us entered the office laughing over some little joke of Kria's, all of us conversing rapidly in the Vanyan tongue. The consul looked up at us and seemed to suppress a frown. He was a middle-aged man, somewhat overweight, of a reddish complexion that reminded me of high blood-pressure-and he was obviously not fond of this job which removed him to such a great distance from baseball, bars and Bromos. Seated next to him, however, was another type of Earthman. I saw plainclothesman or F.B.I. written all over him. Tall, gaunt, pale of complexion, with a prominent if acquiline jaw and with a legal file cached away behind each of his pale, penetrating blue eyes. Both men had been conversing but as we entered they fell silent and surveyed us as though we were Indians coming off the reservation with a water rights complaint.

 

‹ Prev