THE BURNING HEART OF NIGHT

THE BURNING HEART OF NIGHT Page 32

by Ivan Cat

  <> commanded his captors, forcing Tlalok prostrate and shoving his face hard into the ground.

  The hood was ripped off of Tlalok's head. He drank cool air, blinking hard after the awful dark and endeavoring to gather his bearings with only one eye (the other was mashed into the ground).

  Quick impressions—

  A grassy glade, at night. Bowl shaped. Encircled by columns of ebony-colored trees. Elegant interlocking branches. Overhead, a vault of glassy leaves, tinkling with every caress of the wind. Starlight filtered through, tinted serene shades of rose and turquoise by the leaves. Pact ringed the sheltered area, orderly both in posture and of glowbud. They displayed patterns unfamiliar to Tlalok, curiously subdued patterns that did not move or change with feeling and intent, but held fast. Some displayed wide patches of red and green, others showed intricate mosaics on flank and limb or concentric rings radiating back from muzzle over torso and haunch. Silver strips ran across the backs and out to the claws of the four hunters holding Tlalok down.

  A presence spoke from ahead of Tlalok, just out of sight. Its light and sound-words ricocheted off the glassy leaves above and on back down to Tlalok's upturned ears and eye.

  <> it asked, with quiet, rooted power. Tlalok immediately recognized the signature of the Radiance that had beaten him.

  Four monochromatic light-voices answered the first, their tints and tones brittle like twigs. They spoke no sound-words at all. Tlalok struggled to make out their speech from the reflecting leaves.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> the four voices intoned in sequence.

  A pause, as if to size Tlalok up.

  The first presence spoke again. <>

  Apparently it was addressing Tlalok as savage. Tlalok bit back a foul retort. He was defeated. He must abide by the will of the conquering Radiance. That was the way of Pact, no matter how little Tlalok felt like cooperating. He dredged his memories for what he knew of the Burning Heart of Night. They were of no help, but an unbidden image leapt to his mind, the image of falling star-streaks against the night sky, and then of a distant red glow on the horizon. How many nights ago? Tlalok counted on thumbs and claws: four hands of four nights ago.

  <> Tlalok ventured.

  Excited colors swept around the bowl. <>

  <> the strong presence announced, <>

  The four monochromatic voices were not so impressed.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> they warned, again in their peculiar habit of speaking in rotation.

  <> they continued, <>

  <>

  <>

  Tlalok heard clicking, as of large seeds striking together.

  <> the first voice repeated with reverence. <

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> the brittle voices solemnly informed.

  Approving light from the onlookers.

  <> the first voice considered.

  Condemning light from the onlookers.

  <> the dominant voice asked.

  Tlalok lost his patience. < he snarled from his prostrate position, <>

  A gasp from the onlookers.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> the four voices exclaimed.

  Tlalok heard more clicking.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Tlalok was not shamed. <>

  <>

  <the four began in uncharacteristic unison.

  But the single voice interrupted. <>

  <

  Another interruption. <

  Onlooking Pact sparkled in surprise, then fell dim.

  The four monochromatic voices did not argue further, but flashed a sustained white light. When they spoke again it was with the solemn rhythm of an often repeated ritual.

  <> they asked themselves.

  <> they answered themselves back. <>

  Again they lit the glade with white light. Stillness followed, broken only by a harsh thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak, which Tlalok could not identify. Then more stillness.

  Eventually the original presence found its voice. <>

  Claws and weight lifted from Tlalok's neck and limbs. The four hunters retreated two paces.

  <> commanded the single voice.

  Tlalok rose to his legs, pleased but defiant, head bobbing on neck to confirms his initial impression of the bowl from his new upright vantage. Beyond ebony trees, the tops of fog banks billowed under starlight. How high was this place? The onwatching Pact stood within those trees, eminently sophisticated in their still patterns; a gathering of court, Tlalok decided, advisors, witnesses, trusted seconds. A space, then the four hunters encircling Tlalok. And then, directly ahead...

  What were they?

  Four ascetic Pact squatted by the corners of a simple, wooden platform, their glowbuds darkened except for single blue dots between their eyes. Tlalok growled involuntarily at the mental discipline required to stay in such condition, teetering on the boundary between life and death. Also, their earpits were bound over with cloth to mute out the deceptive language of sound. Each of these Pact monks clutched a long rod, held upright in forepaws, butt end planted on the turf. Strings of black and white beads hung from the rods, cascading down onto the ground.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> they announced, using a minimum number of glowbuds to carry their words.

  Between the Judges, in the center of the square platform, sat a Pact of no less interest to Tlalok. It seemed to be of an extreme age, as evidenced by sun-faded armor. Tlalok sensed it was near the end of its allotted years, but it did not give the impression of infirmity. Its limbs were thin, but in the way strong muscle is bereft of fat. Its movements were slow, but with the measured intent that comes from deep understanding. This compelling old Pact now lifted itself onto all four feet.

  <>

  Since Tlalok was already standing, he inclined his snout. <>

  The Judges thumbed their beads, counting individual black and white spheroids from one loop to another as Tlalok spoke. Click, clack.

  Kthulah squinted at Tlalok. <>

  <> Tlalok responded.

  Click, went the Judge's beads.

  <> Tlalok added defiantly.

  Click, tik.

  <>

  The Judges strobed disapproval.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Kthulah admonished hid prisoner. <cales swing to and fro.>>

  Tlalok snorted at such a ridiculous thought.

  Tik, tik, tika, tik went white and black beads (mostly black).

  <> the Judges accused.

  Because he did not know what they were talking about, Tlalok snorted again.

  Kthulah scrutinized Tlalok. <> The old Pact nodded to the Judges. <>

  The ascetic Khafra glared sanctimoniously at Tlalok, but obediently bowed their muzzles and fell into ceremonious rhythms.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> the Judges intoned.

  <> Tlalok said defensively.

  The Judges glowered more sternly, but continued.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Their words flashed brighter and quicker.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Now the assembled Pact joined the Judges with their own radiant voices.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Suddenly Tlalok grasped what they meant—Burning Heart, altar of Radiance—they were talking about a column of fire, bursting out of the ocean and stabbing up at the stars themselves!

  <> he exclaimed. <>

  <> the Judges shrieked. Beads jangled out of carefully ordered positions. Clatter!

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Tlalok hurried to explain. <>

  Tlalok looked around the bowl. No one understood. Not a single sympathetic face. Not even Kthulah, who had treated Tlalok with some respect.

  The Judges hurried to reorder their beads, refiguring Tlalok's tally. Many black beads added up. These they tied off into sub-loops—too many sub-loops. The Judges raised and pointed their rods at Tlalok.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Agreement glittered through the glade.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <> the Judges decreed.

  Tlalok could hardly believe the words, but the intent was clear. His guards turned inward, lips folding back from teeth, shoulders hunching, ready to spring. They meant to blind him. And they called Tlalok a savage! Tlalok remembered the airless, cavernous darkness of the hood and readied for a fighting leap. Pact did not kill Pact, but perhaps Tlalok might blind one or two of the miserable Judges before the hunters overcame him.

  <> commanded Kthulah, staying the imminent bloodshed. <> Kthulah turned to Tlalok. <>

  Tlalok wanted to prepare well thought out, irrefutable words, but arguments flashed off of him, fueled, as so much of his existence, by fury. <> he raged. <>

  The Judges counted more beads.

  Kthulah sighed. <>

  <> Tlalok sputtered. <>

  Kthulah explained, patiently. <>

  <> Tlalok flashed, dumbstruck that Kthulah could say such a thing.

  Every Pact—Judges, onlookers, guards—glowed in agreement with Kthulah.

  Tlalok flashed angrily. <>

  <> the Judges lectured, <>

  <>

  <>

  Tlalok snarled. <>

  The onlooking Pact shifted uneasily.

  <> Kthulah explained evenly, <>

  <> Tlalok argued. <>

  Glowbuds prickled in ire along the crest of Kthulah's shoulders. <>

  <>

  Tlalok began to see colors of shame on Kthulah and the assembled Pact.

  <> the old Pact sighed. <> Kthulah looked up at the stained glass leaves, his wizened features pained. <>

  The Judges thumbed beads in agitation now, reordering some of their count.

  <> Kthulah looked from one Judge to another. <>

  More agitated thumbing of beads. Many spheroids changed places as the monks tied off loops of white. Consternation crossed their glowbuds. Tlalok was surprised how much care they devoted to each swapping of white for black—considering how strongly they had pressed earlier for his blinding. Their claws stopped moving. Bead clatter ceased. The Judges blinked numbly.

  <> they admitted, <>

  <>

  <>

  Kthulah pondered long and hard, shifting from one uncomfortable position to another on the wooden platform, as if a different vantage would make his decision easier, but none of the positions made a difference. Finally, solemnly, he spoke, <

  <> the Judges echoed, reverently loosening the knots of Tlalok's tally and shaking the white and black beads back to starting positions. They sat back, shining together the white light that Tlalok had seen before.

  <> they asked themselves.

  <> they decided, turning on Kthulah. They raised their rods high overhead and, one at a time, swung powerful blows down on Kthulah's back. Thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak. Tlalok saw that it hurt, even through Kthulah's plated hide. Kthulah's glowbuds welled up angrily, but only the merest hint of pain twisted his face. After a count of sixty-four the Judges reverted to rest positions, heads bowed, paws clasped on staves held upright before them.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Kthulah noted the horror on Tlalok's face. <aught, savage Tlalok,>> Kthulah said weakly. <> Kthulah wiped spittle from his ancient lips. <> Kthulah pointed to the Judges, <>

  Tlalok was aghast.

  <> Kthulah observed to himself. <>

  <> asked the Judges, <>

  <>

  <>

  Kthulah did not hesitate. <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  <>

  Kthulah bowed to Tlalok. <>

  XXVIII

  Earlier that same night.

  Karr rode a rescue cage down the shaft of dusty light. The Guard squad dropped past him, rappelling with speed and military precision down thin filament cables. Human and Khafra heads peered at them from the jagged opening above.

  "Watch the speed on that cage," Toliver's voice buzzed in Karr's headset.

  Karr's cage, already descending slowly, slowed even more.

  Karr was quite capable of rappelling down the cables and had said so, but the Guards insisted on reconnoitering the bottom first. Karr chewed his cheek impatiently as the Guards touched down. Coaxial searchbeams stabbed out from pulse-rifles into the surrounding darkness, sweeping shadows around the bright patch below.

  "No threat," Toliver declared shortly.

  A winch whined from above and Karr's cage picked up speed as the Guards spread out. The floor was concave under their searchbeams, gently rising as they moved out from center. Karr's cage clattered onto a heap of recently fallen rubble.

  "That's good," Karr transmitted. The cable stopped unreeling. Gattler in hand, he hopped out and slid down the scree to a patch of yellow cobblestones. "Looks like the stuff you colonists make roads out of." Karr crouched and ran his fingers over the nodules. "And it's growing in a hexagonal pattern, like it does back at your Enclave."

 

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