She narrowed her eyes, feeling sick. “What?”
“The god, or chosen one which they believe me to be. They call it the ‘damarret’. Sounds familiar, don’t you think?”
She recoiled in abhorrence, feeling suddenly faint. “Cris, stop – ”
“Yes,” he said. He wasn’t listening to her. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking past her shoulder. “I knew you would be pleased.”
“Listen to yourself,” she said, her heart racing. “I thought you didn’t want this… Cris, I feel like I’m losing you. You promised me you weren’t going to go down this path…”
“It’s going to be wondrous!” he said, ignoring her. “You’ll see, Lora. You’ll see.”
The tribal aliens led Cris and Chen through the underbrush, and then along a vast gorge several miles long. They travelled in single file, shuffling and stamping, shouting and fluting, flanked by various giant beasts of burden, like huge centipedes, hauling heavy wooden carts and what looked like large siege weapons on their backs. Cris and Chen rode at the front of the convoy, on the back of a large, dinosaur-like quadruped with longer forelegs than hind legs, and a long neck. It had whitish, translucent skin with thick purple veins visible beneath, and long, spoon-shaped teeth. Despite its size and weight, which was easily thirty or forty tons, it walked quickly and effectively. Cris was surprised that such a beast could be tamed in this way. At the very front of the convoy was the decoratively-adorned tribe leader, riding a similarly impressive beast.
Soon, they began to move along the edge of a long river to the east, which spilt violently over the edge of a deep cliff. A shining waterfall raged, glistening in the sunlight. It was a fabulous sight.
“The leader’s name is Sai’bot,” Cris said to her, his eyes scanning the sweeping landscape. The view to the west was uninterrupted, an expanse of huge fungi towering into the clear sky. “Actually, he’s not their leader. He’s more like a priest, or a shaman, or something. But how’s that for a coincidence?”
Chen frowned. “I’m not following you. What do you mean?”
He looked at her with an almost incredulous expression. “You mean you don’t remember? That deformed assistant of Damarus we saw back on Earth, in the hangar bay where we boarded the Thunder – his name was Sai’bot.”
She blinked, memories rushing through her mind. So much had happened since then she had almost completely forgotten about it. “Yes,” she said. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that now. That’s interesting. It makes me wonder if there’s a connection between the two.”
“Think they’re the same person?” Cris asked.
She stared ahead at the creature riding in front of them. It was green skinned and had multiple arms. She shook her head. “I couldn’t say, Cris. The name is certainly the same – and hardly the most common name in the universe. But they look so different…”
Cris shrugged. “Given all that’s happening, I wouldn’t be surprised. If you ask me, I’d say it’s destiny.”
She frowned. “I thought you didn’t believe in all that predestination stuff.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “Everything is falling into place Lora, just as he promised. They’re calling me the ‘damarret’, for God’s sake. That’s only one syllable away.”
“I know,” she said. “And what troubles me is the fact that you seem to be enjoying this.”
“I…” he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It comes in waves. Like a flood of seductive energy. I can’t explain it…”
She gave him a concerned look. “I worry about you, Cris. One moment you’re the lovely, kind-hearted Cris that I know and love, and the next moment you change. Your behaviour changes… you even look different, and I fear that you are going through some kind of transformation – becoming Damarus. On one hand, you tell me that you don’t want that to happen, and on the other, you seem to welcome it. You shut me out. You turn cold, and almost malevolent. It’s like a y+nyáng situation, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”
For a moment, he was silent.
She sighed. “Cris, do we really need to be posing as gods to these creatures?” She sounded as though she were pleading.
He gritted his teeth. “What do you mean? I’m the god. They think you are some kind of princess consort, or something.” He laughed.
She grimaced. “We can find this ‘Asterite’ without lying to these people, Cris. They’d still help us, I’m sure.”
He took a sharp intake of breath. “Look!” he said, pointing ahead.
She turned and saw their destination: a large village, appearing in total harmony with the natural environment, beyond the skills and fashioning of any human habitation that Lorelei Chen had ever set eyes on before. Glowing domes, twisting blades of rubbery fungus, outrageously curved, bizarrely patterned. Buildings constructed from some skin-like fabric, glittering, almost reflective in appearance. It was beautiful, yet somehow disturbing. And everywhere, were hundreds of the tribal creatures, gathered together in family groups: children played games; minstrels played strange, resonant music on hollow logs and windy reeds.
“Well?” she asked him.
“Well what?”
“Are you going to stop lying to these people?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s too late for that. Don’t worry. This will work to our advantage.”
Disappointed, she seemed to withdraw into herself, wondering how much longer it would take before her Cris was permanently replaced by this… this darker version.
“Trust me, Lora,” he told her. “All your life, you’ve been following the words of the Lord Damarus Bible, looking for God in its pages.” He grinned. “Now, here I AM.”
Once they arrived in the village, Sai’bot convened what he called a ‘necessary meeting’ with the tribe’s Elders, on the matter of the Asterite.
Chen wanted nothing to do with it. She would have preferred to pass through this village and find the elusive creature by themselves, perhaps using Cris’ apparent sixth sense, but to her dismay she found that she had been summoned to the ‘meeting’ at the behest of the ‘damarret’ himself.
The meeting was held in some kind of armoury. The little room, cluttered with weapons ranging from spears to sledgehammers and other military equipment, was cramped, awkward. Oil lamps had been set out on low tables to dispel the gloom of the poky room, and their sooty, sweet smoke filled the air like incense. Small statues and figurines made from resin filled the alcoves on the walls, depicting some mythical alien pantheon, above a large stack of what looked like Kyr’Ozch, the rare organic crystals used in construction of holocubes back on Earth.
Cris was invited to sit on a throne-like chair at the head of the room, constructed from some rubbery bamboo, elevated above the other sitting positions, while the Elders came and took their seats below him. Chen was shown to a seat at the side of the room; evidently, far less importance was being afforded to her as a mere ‘consort’. A moment later, the tribe’s leader emerged, a larger creature with an elaborate headdress resembling a lion’s mane, and examined the seated figure of Cristian Stefánsson cursorily, then seemed to make some kind of pronouncement.
“Balaski! Borocoo dacca di!”
At that, Sai’bot stepped forward, and began to address Cris in his native tongue.
“Welcome to Sirkhari, O Great damarret. We humbly extend our full hospitality to you, as you visit our peaceful village on your Cosmic Hunt.”
“What are they saying?” Chen blurted out loud, and some of the village Elders turned and looked at her angrily. One of them growled. Sai’bot became visibly upset by this. He waved his staff, stamped his feet, shrieking at Chen for a full minute. Properly abashed, Chen closed her mouth and kept quiet, opting not to get involved in this particular situation. Cris seemed to have everything under control…
“Thankyou, Sai’bot,” Cris said, his accent indistinguishable from the native speakers. “It pleases me to come here.”
The tribe leader, named Irnal, held up one of the Kyr’Ozch crystals in his arms, offering it to Cris. “Might I offer you a gift, O Mighty damarret? One of our finest gemstones, freed from its rocky matrix just this morning.”
Cris accepted the gift, admired it for a moment, and then placed it carefully in his jacket pocket. “Thankyou,” he said. “But the chance to kill the Asterite will be more than enough for me…”
“Is it true what Sai’bot tells me?” Irnal asked. “You have come to Sirkhari to defeat the Asterite?”
Cris nodded. “That is why I have come here. Can you tell me where the Asterite is?”
Irnal and Sai’bot conferred for a moment. Then Sai’bot said, “The Asterite only appears here once every six lunar cycles, O Great damarret. It feeds, then it goes away – to hibernate while the Majka recovers from the assault.”
“The Majka?”
“Yes. The mothering life force inherent in our world. Every living thing on this planet shares a symbiosis with the Majka; it is our Land and our Life, and this fact is remembered in our first and most important law: Tutskwa I’qatsi - Land and Life are One. We exist as One total, uniform ecosystem. When the Asterite comes, it harvests the life force from the Majka and damages it. Life is lost. It chooses to hibernate so that when it returns, the Majka has recovered its strength, and the process begins again. It has been this way for thousands of generations. The Asterite’s hunger is insatiable. It is the ultimate Foe of this world.”
Cris took a deep breath. “How long has it been since the Asterite last appeared here?”
Irnal answered him. “One and one half lunar cycles, O Great damarret.”
Cris glanced across the room at Lora, and registered the look of complete bewilderment on her face. She had no idea what they were talking about, the poor girl. My, how the tables had turned since the day they’d first met, he thought. She certainly wasn’t going to like this. “Then I will stay with you, people of Sirkhari, with my consort at my side, until the day the Asterite appears again. Then, on that day, I shall deliver you from your Foe – forever!”
He heard the Sirkharin equivalent of cheering, roaring for their hopeful saviour.
Behind the chorus, Chen wore a weak, solemn frown.
24
A large bonfire blazed in the centre of the village for a celebration that night – a celebration to mark the long-awaited Coming of the damarret. Multiple percussion instruments were engaged in highly polyrhythmic interactions, and the Sirkharins rejoiced in the warm firelight of the cool evening - singing, dancing, and laughing in their bizarre language. There was a free-flowing motion to their dance, with arms swinging around, and no stillness; the free flowing motion, of a move either beginning or ending, filled all pauses. Their multi-limbed torsos acted as the stronghold base of the dance, their centre of gravity shifting rapidly from one foot to the other as they strode, leapt, and in some cases almost slithered along the ground. Two and sometimes three main movements occurred: slow high kicks, the swifter Sirkharins leaping and twisting in the air, and complex hand movements.
Cris stood at one end of the amassed crowd on a large cuboid-shaped tree stump, slightly elevated as if he were on a stage, preaching to them about the ‘miracle’ of his arrival. Chen stood watching from some distance away, beneath the branches of a colossal tree that marked the boundary of the village’s central square.
“Guide us on the path, O Great damarret,” one of the creatures chanted, “that we may triumph over the Asterite, the enemy of our salvation, and be with you in the end of ends on the planes of enlightenment!”
Cris’ eyes regarded Lora for a moment and he caught her concerned gaze, then he smiled and turned back to his crowd. “Make yourself One with the Light,” he told them, “and the journey will lead you to eternity.”
There was a roar of approval from some of the Sirkharins. “The power and greatness of the damarret cannot be denied,” he heard them say. Then, someone else muttered, “Can this truly be Him?”
Cris nodded. “Truth is elusive to those who refuse to see it with both eyes wide. Trust in Me, and I will lead you to your destiny.”
His words seemed to reassure any doubters. He gestured, and they got back to their celebration, dancing and laughing joyfully together. As the crowd dispersed and became a wave of movement, Cris looked across at Lora and saw her wander off, away from the gaiety, down a secluded walkway on the dark side of the large tree.
Cris followed her. He knew from his own experience that she was probably feeling anxious, confused – maybe even terrified. Being the only person who didn’t understand anything that was being said around you was a lonely and uncomfortable burden to bear.
The sounds of the fungal forest filled the soft night air. Crackling insects, the roar of distant, anguished megafauna. The smell was a rancid mixture of strong, acrid fish or shrimp, and a mealy garlic. It was bad enough to make your eyes water, Cris thought. He hated mushrooms. The sky was crystal black.
Lorelei Chen stared at the brightest star in the heavens, lost in thought. She couldn’t take her eyes from it. Cris found her like that.
“What’s wrong, Lora?” he whispered.
She smiled wearily. “Everything, I’m afraid. Or nothing, maybe. Maybe things are finally going to be as they were meant to be.” She averted her eyes, trembling. Cris took her hand. She felt so close to Cris, yet... she couldn’t say how. He seemed so lost now, so alone. So distant. She almost couldn’t feel his hand in hers. “I’m losing you, Cris.”
He looked down at their intertwined fingers. He understood what she was saying. But what was her fascination with this whole prevention deal anyway? Why should he be prevented from fulfilling his own and rightful destiny? “Lora,” he said softly, “maybe it’s time you accepted the truth. That I am going to become Damarus, and there is nothing you can do about it. But really, why should you prevent it at all? Would that not alter your own past, and make you into a completely different person to the one you are now? Without Damarus, your life would be completely different, in virtually every detail.”
The question took her totally by surprise. Since the encounter with her future self back on Earth, she’d been convinced that preventing the creation of Damarus was necessary and right… in order to prevent some untold evil… Yet now Cris’ question made her start. Flashes from her infancy assaulted her – distorted visions of running… the death of her mother… attending the Holy Church in Einek. The fragments suddenly threatened to flood her with emotion.
“Maybe,” she said, pausing to regain her composure. “But if you are determined to follow this path through to its conclusion, you must do it alone.” A tear rolled down her right cheek, and she pulled her hand away from his. The situation suddenly felt a lot more serious. She was making a conscious decision here. “I cannot go with you.”
He regarded her for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to relax, nodding. “So be it,” he said, “if that is what you really want…”
“So, it’s over, then?” The sound of her voice crumbled with despair.
Cris gave her a single nod. “It would seem so.”
Her eyes were filled with tears now. Part of her had expected this from the moment they had first entered Heaven’s Gate, but she hadn’t allowed herself to accept the possibility. She’d been naïve, perhaps, in believing she could succeed where her other ‘selves’ had failed in this loop of cause-and-effect – if anything, she’d been in denial, convinced that something could be done to hang on to that original, unblemished love they had shared, that love that had motivated her to kill Lenton, her husband, so long ago now, it seemed, in favour of Cris. That hope. Hope of a happy future together.
Her tongue went out to moisten her dry lips. She swallowed. “I hope you get what you want,” she told him. “I hope you find your family, and that you are happy together…”
“What about you?” he asked, unfazed.
She shrugged dejectedly, turning away. S
he didn’t have an answer for him. She felt that her entire existence, her entire being, was now threatened, and balanced on a knife-edge. “I… I don’t know. I feel lost. So utterly, utterly lost…”
He took a step toward her then and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Lora, we’re going to be staying with these people for a while. Months, maybe, until the Asterite appears and I can kill it… then, we’ll be on our way. Perhaps in that time, you can be convinced to change your mind about me. Try not to worry so much.”
She forced a smile, realising then that Cristian Stefánsson really didn’t have the slightest clue about her at all. “That will be highly unlikely, Cris,” she said.
Months passed.
Cris and Chen grew increasingly alienated from each other, sometimes going for entire days without talking, or even seeing each other. The intimate nature of their relationship was over, that much was certain, and a painful loss was felt both ways – but now, neither of them was even sure whether they were friends anymore. Their individual outlooks for the future differed far too much.
Living amongst the Sirkharins for all this time had proved especially difficult for Lora, who knew nothing of their language and customs – she had found it virtually impossible to learn, largely due to the fact that nobody appeared to be interested in her whatsoever, and so were unwilling to spend any time with her. All of the aliens’ attention was diverted solely at Cris – the so-called ‘damarret’ – and the impending arrival of the Asterite and what was going to happen. She spent most of her time alone, growing depressed.
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