by Andrew Elgin
"Maybe," was all she said, without looking at him. But it was enough to encourage him to continue.
"But neither of us sensed anything wrong there. The land was fine. Crops were fine. No disease. No sudden rise in predators." He rubbed his forehead, trying to think this through, trying to distract Lisick. "That means that there was nothing wrong in the way the villagers were living with Harmony."
That caught her attention. "Of course, there had to be something wrong! Otherwise, why did they die? Why did Harmony make them deaf?"
"But," Gerant continued gently, "if there was no trace of anything wrong with the balance of the land, then they had to have done something else instead, yes? What could that have been?"
His argument had penetrated. Lisick put the compress, which she had been holding in her lap, on the table. "Perhaps we were too quick when we were told. Perhaps we should have been more careful."
Gerant nodded. "But what could possibly have caused Harmony to have taken that action? That's the question we need an answer to. We just sent what we thought was the best way of dealing with the result, but didn't bother looking at much beyond that. Didn't look too hard to find the cause."
"Well," said Lisick, "if the land was fine, then it was something not from that area which was the reason. But everything around the place was in balance, as I recall. Did you find anything else there?"
"No. Nothing." Gerant, having started by wanting to distract Lisick by chatting aimlessly about an old issue, had been so successful that he was now fully engaged with the problem himself. "If it was nothing that the people did to the land, then it had to be some other type of...threat, maybe?"
Lisick was now also fully engrossed in this. If they could not connect with any people using the deecees, then at least they could try to resolve the problem of Blackeye. "A threat? Maybe. But what sort of threat? What would Harmony see as a threat and why would she punish the people if they didn't make it?"
"Perhaps She thought they should have seen it as a threat?"
"Yes, but what would threaten Harmony if they didn't do it?"
Both sat in silence, trying to solve this puzzle.
"I think I might have an idea," said Gerant slowly. "I know the sort of threat that Harmony would react to. Do you recall when that boy arrived, the one we think caused the problems just now? Think back to what was threatened by the people who brought him. Do you remember it?"
Lisick nodded, eyes widening at the thought. "You could be right, Gerant! They threatened to poison Harmony."
"Yes," Gerant continued. "But what if they, or another of those metal crafts, what if they landed at Blackeye? What if they wanted something and threatened Harmony again? We wouldn't know about such a landing, would we? They could land anywhere, might have landed anywhere any number of times, and we wouldn't know. Not unless they did something like poison the land."
Lisick waved a cautionary finger. "But there was no poison, so that wouldn't explain the deaths, would it?"
"Not poison, no. But it might explain things. If there was a ship landed and the villagers could have done something and didn't. Or...," Gerant's eyes narrowed as he followed his thoughts in detail. "Or, they gave something Harmony valued to them. Or had something given which they shouldn't have had." His eyes widened. "I think that's it! That's what happened. I think that the people in Blackeye did something they should not have done and Harmony punished them for it."
Lisick pulled at her lower lip as she thought about this explanation. "I don't like it. But it feels right. It has that feel to it when something is tugging at you to look at it but you don't want to because you won't like what you see. It feels that kind of right. I don't want it to be right, but I think it is. I think, if you're right, Harmony took the only action she could. It's not a good thought. But I can, in a way, understand Her doing it." She looked up suddenly. "But why not do the same thing here? After all, they landed here. They made a threat here. Why not make us deaf as well?"
"They took some plants, made a threat, left the boy." Gerant's face showed how bereft of ideas he was. But then, "The boy. Again, the boy. Maybe it was because of the boy that Harmony did nothing. Could the boy be special to Her in some way?"
"Possibly," Lisick conceded. "But we didn't take anything from them." She thought some more. "They didn't offer us anything. It was a job, a task, leaving the boy here. There were only those few plants. I can't see that as being a threat. If they did land at Blackeye, it's possible they did something else instead there. Whatever it was, I'll bet that was what Harmony saw as a threat."
After a silence, Gerant repeated his earlier point. "Those people could land anywhere on Harmony and we'd never know. It could have happened many times over."
Lisick had a somber look. "If you're right about this, and I think you are there or thereabouts in explaining it, then the question really is how many times has this happened before? And, more importantly, how many people have died because of it? Places too small for deecees?"
Gerant was grave. "I don't think we'll ever know. This could have been going on a very long time. It makes me feel so helpless."
"Speaking of helpless," Lisick replied, "we don't have any deecees."
Both of them felt very much useless at that point.
The next day started out somber and silent. Bellis, as always, was working in the kitchen. Pasker wandered about, getting in her way, but keeping out of the way of Gerant and Lisick, who both hated the enforced idleness and the bigger implications of it. Both also had short tempers and could not sit still for any length of time. They kept going over the same ground repeatedly. Blackeye and the boy, Javin. Haven's ships and dead people. They're sure that there was a connection. But they could not find one. Their hopes rested on having the deecees working again.
The day passed slowly. Gerant and Lisick ate together, being left alone by Bellis and Pasker. After eating, they still felt restless and found that they had both decided to take a walk outside, to help clear the lingering effects of the day before. There was nothing left to discuss. They just wanted to be able to do something.
Finally, feeling the chill, they made their way back, together but silent, to resume their pacing. As they got to the main door, Pasker was waiting for them, looking both scared and excited at the same time.
"Well?" Gerant's booming voice filled the one word with enough energy to force the boy back against the door, as though he had been struck. Gerant covered his eyes and took one, slow, deep breath. He forced himself to be calmer. "Are the deecees working?"
Pasker pushed himself upright and took one stride forward. He was determined not to show how afraid he was of the bulky man before him, even though a part of his brain kept yelling that the bulky man knew exactly how afraid he was.
"Sir, I wanted to let you know there's a message." He waited a moment but could not contain his excitement. "The deecees, sir. Yes. They're working again!"
Actually, it became clear that Pasker's statement was optimistic. The truth was that only a couple were found to be working at first. But, over the following days, others regained their function. As nobody knew anything of their construction, their operating principles, they were simply grateful and hoped that all would return to service quickly. However, the recovery was patchy and some areas were still not reachable many days later.
As it became clear that the previous level of communication was unlikely to be restored quickly or easily, it gnawed at both Gerant and Lisick. But it also affected Bellis as well, as she was frequently in their company, cooking, or clearing. As for Pasker, he attempted to do his duties with the absolute minimal contact with either Lisick or Gerant and, as a consequence, became a more or less permanent fixture in the kitchen.
It was the beginning of a tiring new regime. Communication remained irregular and sometimes several attempts were necessary to send longer messages, but some semblance of the old communication network was in place. They took turns dealing with such messages as made it through to them and sendin
g out what helpful information they could. Sometimes that meant eating in the message room, sleeping on a couch outside it.
It was strange. Normally, they would have been more leisurely, taking time off to travel or relax whenever they sensed Harmony was quiet. But now, they didn't have that connection anymore. Although they were used to the duty, they wanted to be there. But to have so few messages to deal with, that was disturbing, unsettling. One or two places did ask what had happened to the deecees, and were told that they had been harmed by someone and then they passed on the warning about Javin. To those places which hadn't realized anything was amiss, they kept on repeating that Javin should be held captive. If there had been widespread headaches or other effects, they weren't told because nobody would think to tell them.
The weight of the duty, of the ritual of it, kept them anchored there but took away their interest in it. They were committed to it more through habit than intent. In truth, there was little they could send that was of help. They kept on trying to contact every deecee. Some villages might no longer have a Speaker available. Perhaps he or she was ill when they tried to send. Or, perhaps, that deecee was simply not working again. So much was unknown.
Where once there had been bustle and purpose, now there were long periods of enforced idleness, when no messages came in and none went out. The inactivity gradually slipped into laziness and there was less effort made to keep the place clean or neat. Meals were eaten and plates not cleared away because Bellis needed time to sleep and Pasker had finally, and gratefully, left for his home when it became clear he could no longer serve any useful purpose.
A feeling of worthlessness crept in to underlay all of their days, making it harder and harder to believe that they were actually doing anything useful at all. Little now was asked of them; a message here, a request passed on there. Disinterest and apathy lay behind their actions.
The final act was carried out in the kitchen one day. Bellis was putting food on plates and Lisick was sitting at the table, staring off into the distance, unable to sleep. Gerant was in the communication room, taking his turn.
"I hate not feeling my old connection with Harmony." Lisick's voice was small and full of sadness. It was as though she were talking to herself, letting her thoughts drift out into the room. "I had such a feeling, such a wonderful feeling. She is so wonderful when you get to be with Her. And now..."
"I'm sorry for you." Bellis sat and pushed the plate toward Lisick. She had decided she would eat first and then take food to Gerant. She felt Lisick needed the company.
"I hate what's happening. It's like for the very first time in my life, I have no idea what to do. Ever since I can remember, I knew what it felt like to have a connection, be really connected to Harmony. It's always been there. And now? There's only the same connection that everyone has. But that's not what I had. I always had something stronger, something more than just a background noise. I had a real connection." She gestured at her plate. "The difference between looking at food and eating it. Now I feel empty. I have nothing left inside. No purpose, no use." She poked disinterestedly at the plate. "I can't tell people the truth because I don't know what it is. I can tell them to look out for a man, but I could be wrong about that. I try to listen for Harmony, but, She's left me alone."
Bellis was at a loss as to how to comfort her. She ate without tasting anything, watching as Lisick pushed food around, lost in her thoughts.
"Then perhaps it's time we left here." Gerant's words startled them both. He was leaning against the door. He had lost much of his bulk in the days since the blast in their heads. There was a new slackness at the jawline together with shadows beneath the eyes, and his clothes were looser. He looked tired and empty. "There's no point in staying any longer. We've done all we can. Why shouldn't we just leave now?"
"And go where and do what?" Lisick's soft voice asked, her head still bowed over her plate, as if too tired to even look at Gerant.
He spread his arms helplessly. "I don't know. But anything which has some purpose to it. And that's not here. Not anymore. I'm too tired, too old, too whatever, to keep doing this. It's useless, Lisick. And you know it is. Neither of us have our old connection back. I can barely feel anything anywhere anymore. Neither of us is capable of doing what we came here to do, so long ago."
"You may be right. Maybe." Lisick sighed as she sat up straighter. "But, sadly, Gerant, my old friend, I can't think of anything else, of being anywhere else. And that means I don't think I'm going anywhere else, either."
"You mean you'll stay because you can't think of anything better? That's not a good reason."
"True. So, the only reason I'm going to give you is that I'm staying because that's what I promised I would do. I'm staying because it's the right thing for me to do. You? You have to decide that for yourself. I know you've been drawn to the land, to farming it, living on it, not listening to it, and perhaps that's where you should end up." She rubbed her eyes tiredly and gave a small smile of self-regret. "Me? I'm just going to sit here, ready and waiting if ever Harmony wants to let me in again." She gave the smallest of shrugs. "I can't do anything else." She reached over to pat Bellis on the arm. "I would be absolutely delighted if you would stay and help. You know cooking is something I just never got round to. If not, I'll understand. Just leave me some stuff that's easy to eat and won't rot too quickly, because I have a feeling that whatever is going to happen isn't too far away, and I won't have too long to wait. Whatever you choose is good. You could have had a family, been a proper mother, instead of tending to us here. I think it's time you lived your life as well." She waved her hand dismissively to show she meant it and slowly stood up. She took her plate and added a chunk of bread to it. "I think I'll go now." She nodded gravely to each and walked dejectedly away.
Gerant had tears in his eyes. "I don't know what to do. I feel I am betraying everything I promised to do when I came here. But there's nothing left for me to do."
"I think you should go," said Bellis. "I'm going too. I don't have the talents you two have, but I can feel things have ended here. I'll get some food ready for her when she's hungry, then I'm going to pack my things." One hand on her hip, the other at her mouth, as if surprised at her own words. "Do you realize, Gerant, how long I've known you? I don't know anyone else outside of here." Her voice caught. "I'm scared, Gerant. Can I go with you? Please? I can't do this on my own."
He didn't need his talent to see the feelings running through her, as he reached to hold her. He was grateful to have her distraction, to block him thinking, just temporarily, of what he was doing. She sobbed against him. "Of course you can come with me," he murmured. "It will be perfect that way. Of course you can come."
Chapter Twenty-Three
As he left Sweetwater behind, Javin hoped that Della had not been affected like the Speaker, Bendiss, had been. It would have been a poor way of saying goodbye.
All he knew was that he would follow the tracks to Luck and keep asking. After all, as she had said, there would not be many girls with red hair and blue eyes, driving a herd of gorries with two dogs. He simply needed to keep going. And to do that, he needed strength. Strength and endurance.
He sat down on a rock and made an accounting of his possessions. Della had been more than generous with provisions. There was a whole loaf as long as his forearm, several fruits, some fresh and some dried, a handful of berries in a cloth twist, which he ate one at a time as he continued taking stock. He laid out fistfuls of dried meats, something round and yellowish which smelt and looked like the cheese he had seen at Hanlar's as well as some herbs he thought might be for cuts or bruises. There was even a small wooden mug and, wonders of wonders, a spare tunic as well as a blade and the tools for touching it up.
He finished the berries, repacked everything and silently thanked Della once more. If he was very careful, he thought he probably had four days of food. Water he would have to find on his own, but that was a small problem, given the number of rills and ponds he had seen i
n this area previously. His only concern was if he was well enough to walk for one whole day, never mind four. He was aware that he was only partially recovered and that Della was right to have been concerned for him. But the thought of spending more time there with her while the need to be with Meldren gnawed at him was anathema.
He stood slowly, adjusted the satchel and blanket on his shoulders again, straightened up and set off.
By the time dusk was covering the land, he was tired. Very tired. He was sweating profusely and his legs were trembling. He found a small stream nearby and slaked his thirst before chewing on some bread and dried meat. He was careful to eat slowly. He cut some fronds from a bush and managed to make a bed which was not too uncomfortable. The chill he had noticed in the town was just as sharp now. He put on the extra tunic before he wrapped the blanket around himself and piled extra fronds on top. Quickly, he fell into a deep sleep. His last thought was whether cats were in the area and how he could protect himself from them.
When he awoke, he could tell that a large part of the morning had slid by, but he did feel better than he thought he would. A splash of water on his face, a piece of fruit and he was on his way again, although he had to walk the stiffness out of his legs.
He stopped once at midday, again in the afternoon and ate and drank sparingly both times. Each stop was short enough to prevent his muscles from becoming a problem, and he made sure to massage the tiredness from his legs at night and again in the morning.
This routine helped him travel further and more quickly than he had thought possible when he had first left Della. By the third day, he realized that he was feeling much stronger, able to walk faster. The weather remained cool, and there was a light mist which chilled him, but also hurried him to keep warm.