by Jo Zebedee
He curses, shouting into the near-empty hut, uncaring of being heard. Life had been so simple for him, just like anyone else. A simple worker, a man trying to help his village and love his wefi. The same responsibilities as everyone else. Now there is so much weight placed upon his shoulders!
Calming himself, he seats himself next to the book, and tentatively opens the first page.
The Animex are a new race, and in writing these words I have no concept of what awaits us. Whether this will be a book of joy or misery, I cannot say. All that I can promise is that this tome will be the most complete record of our peoples' growth. How long have we been here? None can surely say, for we spent many sunups as simple beings, huddling together for warmth and safety. No matter how advanced our species may become, we must never lose sight of our humble beginnings. The very act of writing is a testament in itself to what may be achieved.
What do we know of our origins, of those earliest sunups? Many of us have vague recollections, memories that stir within us a kind of shame. I make no apologies for those initial stages of our development. When we first crawled from the pods, we were little more than beasts. Those pods had held us on our journey, although we to this day have no idea where we have travelled from. The metal shells fell apart upon landing, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I can still remember the taste of grubs and insects and the bark from the trees. They offered enough sustenance to us all, for a time. Was our destination point pre-decided by the Animex? Perhaps they knew there would be just enough to sustain until we could develop a true civilisation. The landing spot was even close to the river, a source of clean, clear water.
What else must we say of those early days? It is common knowledge that the Animex were the ones behind our creation. Yet rarely do we question how this is known. It is a sort of shared memory that we cannot trace. Many seemed to forget the metal shells that had carried us. But I did not. I returned to them. And I saw things no one else has seen, no one else could claim to know.
Why did I go back? I do not know. Idle curiosity, or something deeper than that? The shells themselves were shattered and broken, silver components scattered as far as they eye could see. Much had no purpose, the simple elements of a wreck, sharp-edged and shining. Yet there were other things that I found, metal with pictures upon them. They piqued my interest at the time, although of course I could not understand their meaning then.
Only looking back now do I realise their significance. These images tell the story of the birth of Noukari.
Zerial pauses as he reads those words, needing a moment to take in their import. A pictorial history of how the Noukari came to be? Such a thing could change the entire view of his race forever! How could anyone dream of keeping such a thing secret?
Zerial closes the book, determined to find Ameri and see this incredible sight for himself.
Versions of the Truth
Viarus stares blankly at the Re'Nuck, scarcely able to believe what he has heard.
'You... want to speak to the gods?'
'I want us all to speak to the gods, Viarus.'
'How could we even achieve such a thing? And why do you need me?'
'What I speak of is true communication, not the one-way process of worship.'
'You want not only for us to speak to the gods, but for them to speak to us also?'
'Surely that is the very pinnacle of what we could achieve as Animexians? But our voices will not do enough. To achieve this we must transcend the physical and reach another level entirely.'
'You... you speak of the scream?'
'You may wish to call it that, Viarus, based upon your experience. But you must realise there is more to it than that. Your voice emerged as a scream, on that occasion. Just bear in mind what you saw, and what your natural reaction would be.'
'Your followers would have been horrified at the sight!'
'Of course they would. Even those yet to accept our religion may have felt the same. But maybe it was the hand of the gods themselves guiding your actions that day, showing us what we must do! Did you never stop to ask why it was only you who returned to help me?'
'I came... out of duty. Out of wanting to maintain our faith.'
'All noble purposes, unquestionably, but surely the rest of the congregation feel the same? No, there was a reason it was you above any other – to demonstrate the power at your disposal!'
'Power! If only I could believe I had the power of which you speak!'
'I have witnessed it first-hand, and do not forget that Asha witnessed it as well. It was your power, and your power only, that saved me.'
'There is no power! That scream was beyond my control. I do not even know how it happened!'
'Viarus, please, calm yourself. I realise that we have much to learn of this mental capacity. But what is evident is that you have a great well of potential power. I do not wish to hear that sound again, as I am sure you do not. But what does not yet shine can be made to gleam. We shall take on this endeavour, and take it on willingly. And you shall be at the very centre of it!'
'I... you know that I have never refused you, Re'Nuck. I have always been most loyal. But I cannot do this thing of which you speak. What if I should fail?'
'Viarus, you fail me now by questioning this. There is no way to know if we shall succeed – but we must believe we can, and make the attempt! We have some time before I shall announce it. Come to my hut as usual. The Book is almost copied in its entirety now, yes?'
'Of course, Re'Nuck.'
'Good, very good. Then we shall shift our efforts to this source of power you have. By the time the ceremony comes around, you shall own it rather than the other way around.'
***
Zerial works his way through Genem, frantic, needing to obtain the knowledge that has so long been hidden from his people. He does not know where he is going, or who he is looking for. Where does Olurus live? Where does Ameri live? Lost in racing thoughts, he crashes into a woman, sending her sprawling to the floor. He picks her up, apologising but scarcely stopping. Cursing, he pauses. You have to think. Where are you going to go? How are you going to find them?
He decides to do something he thought he never could, but he cannot wait any longer.
He walks past the line of huts at the edge of Genem, finds his way deep into a stand of trees and shouts as loud as he can. But the shout has no sound to accompany it, expect in the mind of one distant individual. He is amazed at how naturally the act comes to him.
Ameri? Can you hear me?
The interior voice seems to echo between his ears in a manner he cannot understand. The answer does not come immediately. He takes a deep breath and focuses. He knows so little of how this works. Picturing Ameri's face, trying to remember the sound of her mind-channel, he tries again.
Ameri? Are you there?
This time there is a reply.
Zerial? Is that you?
The response is a whisper, but within seconds Zerial has zeroed in on the source of the channel.
Not so resistant any more, Zerial?
I must see you, Ameri. It is vital. I wish to know more.
Of course.
How will I get to you?
You do not. Simply stay where you are and I shall find you. If I lose sight of you, I will call for you.
Lose sight of me?
Please do not quibble, Zerial. I will be there soon.
Zerial does not to have to wait for long. There is soon enough a rustling through the trees and Ameri emerges. Despite the speed of her travel, she still looks calm and unflustered.
'It turns out I was not so far away.' she says.
Do you not wish to speak via our channels any more?
'I do not wish to speak at all, here. Come with me to my hut. I know what it is you are looking for.'
Zerial silently follows as they leave the forest's edge.
The hut that Ameri calls her own is a simple affair. He is somehow unsurprised to see
one of everything inside it. So much like his own. Since their first meeting he had found it hard to picture her with a Hasban Perhaps people could have said the same of Asha – principled, driven, honest.
'This is... pleasant.' he ventures.
'I have never troubled myself with such things. You do not have to bother with idle conversation. Please, sit down. I will show you what you have come to see.'
She effortlessly switches her voice from mouth to mind.
We shall speak with our thoughts from now on. Focus on me and all will be well.
Of course, Zerial mind-replies. The echo seems to have gone now, either proximity or practice.
I am pleased that the first part of the book intrigued you so.
It will certainly capture the imagination of Genem.
Good. I keep these images hidden as safely as I can.
Ameri rises from her seat and throws the thick furs that constitute her bed aside. They land silently, revealing what looks like a simple dirt floor. But Ameri starts to feel around in the dark soil, soon uncovering a handle amidst it. Pulling sharply, a wooden lid comes away, revealing a modest chest.
For a long time we A'Nockians shared these images, making sure they were with someone at all times. Guarded, I suppose. But I eventually enlisted some help to build this chest.
Once their existence is known, people may come looking.
I fully expect so. In fact, I expect nothing less.
Not all of them may be friendly.
Ameri puts the chest down heavily.
What do you mean?
You speak of using this Book of Truths as a means to refute the word of the Re'Nuck. Do you believe his followers would not come looking, perhaps even aim to destroy these pictures?
Destroy something? Of such value? No, no. The truth will be known.
The Animexians have developed their own version of the truth.
Everyone will want to see these – non-believers and believers alike!
I simply say do not underestimate their potential to... crush what stands in their way. Asha died at their hands. Some pieces of metal would not be beyond them.
I had never considered such a thing. For so many sunups I have looked forward to the moment that these may be revealed. I had pictured such happiness, such celebration! Now they are more important than ever.
I must see them, Ameri.
Of course. Here is all I have.
She lays out three thin sheets of metal, and they both fall into reverent quiet as Zerial looks over them. Each tableau is seared into the metal. The creation and development of the pods themselves is a source of fascination, let alone how they could draw onto the substance itself.
The first scene depicts two tall and majestic-looking figures stood over a table of some kind. They look something like the Noukari, but if possible their frames are even more gaunt and thin. One holds a long staff, which runs almost the length of his body, while the second looks into a container of some kind. The image shows liquid within the container, but Zerial cannot ascertain what it is.
The second image is on a much larger scale, and shows a huge room in fine detail. In this room are rows upon rows of cylindrical constructs – the seeding pods – which are being loaded with what look like jars. He squints, seeing that there seems to be something within the jars. The beings holding the jars are things the manner of which he has never seen before – he is not even sure how to describe the stocky-looking, brutish beings. Their muscles and limbs are so thick and veined as to make them seem grotesque. Rather than the smooth skin of the Noukari, or their creators, these beings are covered with a dark fur, giving them a wild appearance.
The third image is even more incredible. The sight of the stars is familiar enough, but what inhabits it is entirely unfamiliar. There is something floating in the stars – a huge construct, starkly metal in the manner of the seeding pods, but shaped with such an infinite beauty that Zerial could weep to look at its image. How could it linger so in the stars? Such a creation must carry so much weight as to simply tumble downwards! Drawing his eyes away from the centre of the picture, he can see small vessels in the distance. Are they travelling away from this behemoth, or towards it?
What... what do they mean? I do not think I fully understand.
It has taken much for us to understand them, Zerial. We believe this to be their chronology, and to tell the bare bones of our earliest times, before Genem, before Noukaria!
None can remember such a time!
Does that mean such a time does not exist? Did all time start with our existence? Of course not. We believe that there were more pictures such as these that would tell the entirety of this tale. But these three are the only ones to have survived. I have been back to the site of our landing many times, and each time returned empty-handed.
Please, Ameri. I must know what this means!
This first is the very moment of our creation. The man on the right we take for some kind of leader. The man on the left is working on a liquid that holds they key to our life.
How do you know all this?
We A'Nockians have discussed these pictures over many sunups. What follows it helps establish its meaning. Please, let me continue.
Of course.
This second image – as you may have gathered – shows the seeding pods.
I recognise them.
But the creatures in this image are unknown to us. They have certainly never been seen here on Noukaria, at least not in our experience. Perhaps they are another race out there in the stars.
They are awful.
They are different, Zerial. Perhaps they would think of us as monstrosities.
Ridiculous.
These images open up the world, the stars. You have to realise that our simple lives here are not all that there is! We already know that the Animex exist, gods or no! Why should it just be them and us? Could there not be others?
I suppose, but...
What you must suppose is that our knowledge is limited. We have spent so long believing we know much, but these images reveal how little we truly understand.
You are correct. Please, tell me of the third.
This one we have debated most of all. It seems to defy any logic. The stars can be seen, obviously. In the background you can even see the moons in our sky.
Zerial looks more closely, seeing the twin orbs at the very periphery of the image.
That is... our own sky!
Indeed. What this... giant... is in the centre of it we cannot begin to comprehend. We have developed different opinions on it. Perhaps it is some kind of rock, somehow floating in space. Perhaps it is a village, a settlement contained within finely-honed walls. It could even be a living being!
On such a scale? Surely not!
What other suggestions do you make, Zerial?
I do not know.
Then do not seek to judge the assumptions of others. You are as baffled as we were on our first sitting. Whatever it is, there is one thing not to be disputed – those are the seeding pods.
Zerial inspects more closely again, and can see the contours of the metallic vessels.
I cannot believe it. Are they travelling towards this... thing... or away?
There is, unfortunately, no way to know that.
This picture is nonsensical. There is no way to glean anything from it!
We have reached the same conclusion. But what we can gather from the images is that the Animex either created – or found – a liquid which enabled us to have life. Then they bid the... servants of theirs to place us into the seeding pods. Maybe it was even the servants who built them.
Those brutes? I hardly think so.
Do not be so quick to judge. They may appear rough-edged, but that does not preclude them from having intelligence. This third shows the seeding pods that birthed us. They are on some kind of journey...
Could this... shape... be Noukaria itself?
W
e had considered it. But we know the soil here gives us a flat surface. This shape is much different.
There are as many questions as answers.
Perhaps. But even those questions must lead us a step closer to the truth.
More versions of the truth.
Just so, Zerial. Just so.
Speaking to Gods
Zerial wastes no time in his own mission, having seen the incredible images. He debates for a while the best way to approach it. Rather than simply openly coming out in open opposition of the Re'Nuck, he decides a more subtle approach is required. So he watches people arrive at the temple both at sunup and moonrise. He tries his best to remember each face, attach names to those he recognises. He knows there is no chance of them joining his cause, at least not initially. He equally knows their wefis and hasbans are unlikely to stand in defiance of them, so he rules them out also.
Whatever happens, he knows the Animexians will have greater numbers than him. But it is not all about numbers. It is about truth.
Once he has this list compiled within his mind, he begins to work out some of those who may support him. A few names are obvious. There are those with strong opinions, some who have already spoken out. Some he knows keep silent, but could be worked upon. Himself and the A'Nockians are not enough strength on their own.
A'Nockians. The word resonates in his brain. Until now he had never considered its meaning. Those who communicate the truth.
***
Inside the temple itself, people are sitting keenly, awaiting the word of Viarus. He is delighted that he will be able to hand over this duty. They decided between them to keep the return of the Re'Nuck a secret, so as to add even more weight to the proposition he will make. Of course Apius is confident of his power, but does not expect blind obedience. For the ceremony to work there will have to be faith and belief from all involved.