by Mark Hodder
I looked landward and immediately recognised the northernmost limits of the Mountains That Gaze Upon Phenadoor. We were floating about a mile offshore, directly opposite the narrow mouth of a river that emerged from a densely forested valley.
“It’s the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings,” I told Clarissa.
The Discontinued started to flop over the side of the ship. One of them approached us and said, “Follow me in.” Though he spoke Koluwaian, I recognised—from small markings above his left eyes—Colonel Momentous Spearjab.
I turned to bid the captain farewell but he’d already wandered away, obviously uninterested now his duty was discharged.
Spearjab jumped into the water and Clarissa and I dived in after him. He gripped us under the armpits and began to swim. We were all on our backs and thus able to converse.
“I say, Miss Stark!” he exclaimed. “How perfectly splendid to see you! And looking as fit as a fiddle, too! At least, I assume so, not knowing what a confounded fiddle actually is. Ha ha! What! What!”
“Well, I’m a lot better for meeting you again, that’s for certain,” she said.
I asked our friend whether he’d encountered any problems getting to the ship.
“None at all! I went straight through the tunnels, avoided the populated thoroughfares, and when I reached the dock, declared myself Discontinued. Harrumph! What! I was hustled aboard with nary a ‘by your leave!’ Humph! Humph!”
I glanced to my right and saw the other Mi’aata swimming nearby.
“Discontinued? What does it mean?”
“They are the aged and diseased ones, old thing. They’ve lived their lives and are now on their way to jolly well die.”
“On their way to where?” Clarissa asked.
“I’m faking it, dear lady, so can’t possibly know. They probably don’t even know themselves—what!—they’re driven by instinct. Shall we follow and find out?”
“Yes,” I answered, though I already had an idea of what we were going to see.
Looking past the colonel’s face at my companion, I asked, “Clarissa, are we far enough away from Phenadoor? Can Yissil Froon or the Quintessence still infiltrate your mind?”
“I think we’re safe, Aiden. Are we returning to New Yatsillat?”
“No. The destruction you witnessed continued after you were taken and the city is no more. Perhaps, when the yellow suns rise and the Yatsill children visit the Pool of Immersion, they’ll return and rebuild it, but I think our destiny lies elsewhere.”
“You have somewhere in mind?”
“I do, but first we must deal with the threat to Earth.”
Upon reaching the shore, we crossed a wide expanse of sand until we came to the treeline, then stood with the rays of the sun shining on our backs and watched the Discontinued file into the forest. Once a little distance had been established, we trailed behind them, pushing our way into the shadows and past the spiny roots. Moisture dripped onto us and I passed my robes to Clarissa that she might be better protected. The atmosphere was thick and humid, the late afternoon of the Heart of Blood stifling and oppressive. There was a heavy scent in the air, spicy and not altogether pleasant.
We hiked beside the river until, finally, the Discontinued moved away from its bank and headed for a clearing, which was perhaps a couple of miles to the west of the one in which Clarissa and I had arrived and where, later, I’d met Gallokomas. We stopped at its perimeter and, concealed by foliage, observed the group.
“I say, I feel I’m committing a terrible act of desecration,” Colonel Spearjab whispered.
The Discontinued climbed into trees on the opposite side of the clearing, dragged themselves out onto branches, then lowered themselves until they were each dangling by a single tentacle.
“What are they doing?” Clarissa murmured.
“Exactly what I expected,” I replied. “Watch.”
Slowly, beads of viscous liquid swelled from the creatures’ skin. The droplets ran together until the Mi’aata were completely coated in a thick clear slime. They became utterly still. Gradually, they darkened.
“The fruits!” Clarissa exclaimed. “They were—are—they are pupae!”
I nodded. “The Yatsill metamorphose into Mi’aata, which, in turn, transform into Zull.”
“Zull!” my two friends cried out.
“What! What!” Spearjab added.
“Each phase of life loses its memory of the one that went before,” I continued, “and each is conducted entirely separately from the others.”
“This is incredible!” Clarissa whispered.
“But all going terribly wrong,” I observed. “You asked why the ritual of Immersion is failing. Because Pretty Wahine’s arrival was calamitous! She cut into a chrysalis thinking it was a fruit and drank the placental fluid, which later came to be known as Dar’sayn. When she encouraged its collection by the Yatsill, they were unaware that in milking the fruits they were actually killing the descendants of their own kind—and the consequences extended even farther than that, for when we were at the Shrouded Mountains, Kata told me the Zull go there to die. I think, when they do, a part of them enters the water in the form of parasites.”
Clarissa’s eyes widened. “Great heavens! The parasites hijack the Yatsill, the Yatsill change into Mi’aata, the Mi’aata become Zull, and, in their death throes, the Zull deposit the parasites. Full circle!”
“Precisely. An astonishingly complex life cycle, and one that has been thrown into chaos not by Yissil Froon, but by an innocent and well-intentioned woman from Earth.”
“Hallo? Hallo? What?” Spearjab said. “Who is this individual you keep referring to?”
“She was known to you as the Saviour, Colonel.”
The irony of that title escaped none of us.
10. Thoomra
As we left the clearing, the new pupae began to emit the soft and incomprehensible sounds that gave the forest its name.
“Perhaps they’re dreaming of what they’ll become,” Clarissa suggested.
We returned to the bank of the river where we collected a number of bamboo-like reeds. Following Colonel Spearjab’s directions, we pounded some of them with stones until they split, then extracted long fibrous strands, which we used to bind large thorns—broken from the roots of the Ptoollan trees—to the ends of the others. Thus, in addition to the pikestaff, we were now armed with makeshift spears.
We pushed on eastward, following the watercourse upstream. I told my companions about Gallokomas and his generosity. “If he’s at all typical of his race, then perhaps we can persuade the Zull to help us.”
“You intend us to trek all the way to their eyries?” Clarissa asked.
“I think they’ll be watching out for us. I hope so.” I looked back at the Heart of Blood. “It’ll take too long to get there on foot.”
After much walking, we climbed out of the valley and traipsed onward, eventually traversing an area of thinning forest until we finally emerged onto rolling savannah.
I swatted away a cloud of tiny globe-shaped creatures that had decided to swarm around my face and said, “If we keep the sun at our backs, we’ll be going in the right direction.”
“I say! The river flows from the Shrouded Mountains,” Colonel Spearjab put in. “I’d prefer to stay close to it, if you don’t mind. Humph! I have to moisten my skin from time to time. Moisten, I say! Ha ha!”
The colonel’s welfare was important to me, so I acceded to his request.
I noticed that Clarissa was gazing back the way we’d come, her eyes levelled at the sky above the forest. She looked perplexed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something in the air over the trees. Do you see it?”
“I see steam rising from them. Is that what you mean?”
“No. There’s a sort of—a sort of a kink in the atmosphere. A fold. It reaches up as far as I can see—disappears into the heavens. It’s drifting slowly back and forth. I think it’s Yissil Froon’s rupture,
Aiden, though it appears inactive at the moment.”
Try as I might, I couldn’t detect anything unusual, and neither could the colonel.
We pressed on with our journey. It was interminable. We stopped and slept at least eight times—I lost count—and successfully defended ourselves against attacking predators on numerous occasions. We ate what non-poisonous fruits and berries we could find, and we drank from the river.
Finally, Clarissa uttered a cry and pointed to a distant cloud, dark against the red sky. Peering at it, I saw it was comprised of little dots that were wheeling and darting around a Yarkeen.
“How shall we attract their attention?” Clarissa asked. “With a fire?”
“I don’t think it’ll be necessary. Some of them are coming this way.”
We stood and watched as eight dots detached from the flock and flew toward us.
“They must have eyes like eagles,” my companion noted.
“Four each!” I added.
The Zull drew closer, circled us, swooped down, and landed a few yards away. In form, they were identical to Gallokomas, but unlike my friend, whose inky-blue skin had been unmarked except for a white patch on the face, these were covered from head to foot with tattoos, all bright yellow, linear, and somewhat maze-like in design.
One of the Zull walked forward and addressed me in Koluwaian. “You are the Thing, Aiden Fleischer?”
“Yes. I’m pleased to meet you. My companions are Clarissa Stark and Colonel Momentous Spearjab. He is a Mi’aata. Did you learn of me from Gallokomas?”
“We did. All the Zull have been watching for you. My name is Artellokas. I presume you have been cast out of Phenadoor?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“You are welcome to make your home in Thoomra.”
“That is the name of your eyries?”
He nodded. “We will carry you there, if you choose.”
“That would suit us very well, thank you, Artellokas.”
The Zull looked from me, to Clarissa, to the colonel, then back at me. Its mandibles opened slowly then clicked shut.
Clarissa said, “Yes, Colonel Spearjab and I have these—” she touched the bumps on her forehead “—but our friend does not.”
Puzzled, I turned to her. “What?”
“It’s the obvious explanation, Aiden.”
“For—?”
Clarissa looked confused. “For why Artellokas can’t discern what you are—are—Oh!” She put a hand to her head and addressed the Zull. “Did you—did you—?”
There was a moment of silence, then she gasped and took a step back. Colonel Spearjab announced, “Clear as a bell! As a bell, I say! We had them in New Yatsillat, don’t you know. Bells, that is. Harrumph!”
Artellokas looked at him and asked, “That noise you are making is a language?”
“Humph!” the colonel responded.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s called English.” I looked from one to the other of my companions. “What’s happening?”
“He can speak to us!” Clarissa said. “Without making a sound!”
Artellokas clicked his mandibles again and said, “The Zull often converse nonverbally. I am curious, Aiden Fleischer, that I can neither hear your thoughts nor communicate my own to you.”
“But you can feel my emotions, yes? It was the same with the Yatsill and the Mi’aata.”
“We will limit conversation to the audible. What are Yatsill? From whence is this thing called English?”
“There is much to discuss, Artellokas.”
“Then let us go to Thoomra at once.”
Zull stepped over to us, but those that approached Colonel Spearjab hesitated and fidgeted skittishly. The colonel backed away from them.
“You’re nervous of contact,” I noted. “The Zull, Mi’aata, and Yatsill all possess an instinct to avoid one another. Can you overcome it? Colonel Spearjab isn’t at all dangerous.”
“Harmless!” Spearjab agreed.
One of the Zull nodded and said, “We shall try.”
He moved cautiously over to the Mi’aata, followed by two others. They were visibly trembling. The one who’d spoken reached out, gingerly touched Spearjab with a fingertip, then turned to the others and said, “I am uninjured.”
Reluctantly, they gathered around the colonel and took a hold of him. Others lifted Clarissa and me, and we were all swept up into the air and away toward the far-off mountain range.
The huge sun had just touched the horizon and was rippling and wavering like a paper lantern impacting the sea and crumpling in on itself.
The eyries were magnificent.
Thoomra consisted of thin columns of rock—hundreds upon hundreds of them—all about a mile high, which flared out into broad flat surfaces at their tops, their edges almost touching. On these, the Zull had created farms and small clusters of exquisitely fashioned buildings, decorated with delicate curves and flourishes, almost like works of art.
Zull society was based on an extremely simple but effective principle, it being generosity of spirit. Each individual cultivated an awareness of what his fellows required and did whatever he could to provide for them, while, in turn, making no secret of his own wants and accepting whatever help was offered. Pride, selfishness, and avarice were non-existent. Thus goods, materials, and services quickly found their way to wherever they were needed. Every Zull willingly contributed whatever he could to society and automatically strove to do the best work possible without expectation of reward. There was no central government, no unions or committees, no king or prime minister, president or chieftain.
I was reminded of how the flocks of Zull flew in a similar manner to Earth’s starlings, a great mass of them manoeuvring through the air, somehow avoiding collisions. Such cognisance of one another appeared miraculous in flight, but even more magical in the settled community, for I knew of no human population that could match it. My species is too fearful to focus on giving and too haughty to admit to any deficiency, believing that to do either would, one way or another, lead to a loss of all one’s resources.
Upon our arrival at the eyries, we were given a house to live in, food to eat, water and a wine-like beverage to drink, and told to rest and recover our strength. I asked to see Gallokomas and, in short order, he floated down onto the terrace where I was relaxing with my companions. His skin now bore the same markings as the rest of his race.
After making introductions, I gripped his hand and said, “It is very, very good to see you again, my friend!”
“Thing! I am happy you are here,” he replied, “though saddened that you, too, have been banished from Phenadoor.”
“Phenadoor is not the blissful place you imagine, Gallokomas. You lost your memory of it when you left, but mine is not impaired, and I must tell you that there’s much danger associated with the crystal mountain, and the threat extends even to Thoomra.”
His jaw mandibles twitched and he cocked his head slightly to one side. “In what manner?”
“Am I correct in thinking that the population of Zull is falling?”
“You are. I have learned this since my arrival. Our numbers are chronically reduced and the situation will soon have serious consequences if it continues. Do you have an explanation?”
I gestured toward Colonel Spearjab. “How do you feel about this Mi’aata, Gallokomas?”
He contemplated my companion for a moment, before answering, “Peculiar. There is a vague sense of familiarity, yet also an awareness that such a reaction is somehow a transgression.” The Zull suddenly switched from Koluwaian to English. “I’m sorry, Colonel Thing, I mean no offence, but I find you repugnant, though I can’t explain why.”
“Harrumph! Harrumph! Harrumph! No offence taken!” Spearjab responded. “The sentiment is mutual—and regrettable. What! What! Regrettable, I say!”
“Gallokomas, how do you know English?” I asked.
“It is in the colonel’s mind. In Miss Stark Thing’s, too.”
“And i
n mine.”
“But yours is inaccessible.”
I made a sound of understanding and gestured toward Spearjab. “The colonel speaks English because he was once a Yatsill, and the Yatsill learned the language from Miss Stark. As do all his kind, he transformed into a Mi’aata and went to Phenadoor, which they inhabit. When the Mi’aata’s lifespan is ending, they journey to the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings and there transform into Zull.”
Gallokomas remained silent. His silvery eyes sparkled as he contemplated this revelation.
I continued, “And when the Zull go to the Shrouded Mountains to die, they deposit tiny creatures into the waters. These attach to the Yatsill, which are a separate species, bestow intelligence upon them, and cause their slow metamorphosis into Mi’aata. You are all parts of a long life cycle. You are an intertwined species.”
Still there was no response.
I told him how Pretty Wahine had unintentionally interfered, resulting in fewer Yatsill transforming, and had caused the death of many Zull before they were able to hatch from their cocoons. I then explained how her actions had also given rise to Yissil Froon, who’d subsequently cast his destructive spell over generations of Mi’aata.
“Now he intends to use them to conquer my world. My people will, of course, resist the invasion. Thousands of Mi’aata will die, which means a further and much more dramatic drop in the Zull population. Soon, this remarkable species of yours, which goes through so many distinct phases of life, will not be able to sustain itself. Extinction beckons, Gallokomas. We must stop Yissil Froon.”
The Zull raised his four hands to his head and held it. “Thing! You are putting many strange and disturbing thoughts into me!”
“I am telling you the truth.”
“I believe you, but I do not like it.”
Colonel Spearjab said softly, “My goodness! The unutterable has been well and truly uttered. What!”
“You told me you are from a place called New Yatsillat, Thing,” Gallokomas said. “Now you say you are from another world.”
“We lived in New Yatsillat after we were transported to Ptallaya.”