Alexandria: A Novel

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Alexandria: A Novel Page 13

by Paul Kingsnorth


  i like Water here, it is warm. we take cnoos on it, some times we swim on it. but adults do not like it comin up. mam was frettin about, mother walkin around with her stik doin lots of talkin. i did not really listen. i am not allowed to go in holt any more because of Catt and ugly man, so i have to stay by mere, near to them. today i am buildin mote around me castel and road to it. i am goin to get some stiks and makin men ridin on horses up to gate. i have never seen horse but jame told me of them. i would love to ride on one like people used to. i wonder if horses will flote away in Water as well. it may be they will swim off and turn in to kelpies. jame told me about them too, they are Water horses, some times they come out from Sea in storm. i am not allowed to go near Sea in storms, so i have never seen one.

  moorin posts are under Water now. dada had to untie cnoos so they did not go under as well. mam says Water will soon be at edge of great Cloyster and this has not happened before. i told her we should build very big wall of stones around Cloyster and i would help, but she did not listen. i dont care, i have me castel. may be i will make turret with littel flag.

  / nzil

  i called all together in Long Hall. it is not done for any but mother to make such call as this, but all changes now. all changes but mother.

  Waters are risin still, more each day. we all heard some great shift. all is change, but changes seem to root mother further down in to this place. as Waters rise, mother sinks. this is her place, it is her life and work. now it is drownin. she sees it and knows, but she will not change. mother was pillar of this place, guardian and leader. mother formin us all. now she is lost.

  she walks bounds of great Cloyster each day now, Water lappin her feet, now comes up over roots of Cloyster it self. she walks and muttrin, she talks to Lady, offers prayers, but Birds will not speak to her, only father, and she does not know what to do.

  sfia and i, we talked. we know mother, how well she will guard this place, how she would guard it with her life. she would fight any who threatened it, but she can not fight risin tide and she will not leave. she would rather go under Water. i will not go with her. i will not die for this place, and me girl will not. nothin will touch her. i would walk out now, go out in to world with me girl only. i would do this if i could.

  we sat in Long Hall, el playin in corner with stones she brought from where edge of Water used to be. moorin places gone now, Bird Poles rise up from shallow Water. each day it may be one hand higher. it will not be long before this Hall risin from Water.

  i will not leave, says mother.

  mother, says sfia, gentle, soon you will have nothin to stay for. Waters are risin daily, it is steady, it may be one or two weeks before there is no ground to stand on.

  we do not know that, says mother. we know nothin.

  we know Waters will not stop, i say.

  we do not, said mother. we do not know why they rise, we do not know if they will stop. i am mother of this place, this is me ground, me work.

  sfia goes to mother then, neelin at her feet where she sits, takes her old hand in both of hers. speakin softly then.

  mother, she says, all you have done for Edg, all you have done for us, it is every thing. Lady knows what you have made and guarded, but all has changed now. father is gone, all are gone but us, now Land it self is changin. it is not wisdom to stay rooted if roots will drown.

  mother looks at ground, leans on her staff now. sudden she is old.

  we must go, mother, i said. she looks up.

  go where, nzil? she says. go where? i have been here all me life, this Edg is where we made our stand. for eons we have been here. i am mother of this place. now some great shift is come. we all heard. this great sound, some thing movin deep. where will we go? am i to be last mother of this—

  she stops then. she can not speak further.

  we can go to father, says sfia, find him. you sent him seekin. he may have found.

  mother lookin at her for moment like she does not know where she is.

  we can follow him, says sfia, follow him west. to torr. hill will be above Waters. father may know what is happnin. you said, all have long gone to holy hill, for Truth can be found there. we can be together again. we can not stay, mother. you see this.

  for long time, mother only breathin. she closes her eyes. we wait. then lookin up like she has been spoken to.

  it shall be like this, she said. we shall ready cnoos, food and Water for journey. prepare and wait. if Water comes across sill of Long Hall, we will go. we will find father on hill and we will make things right again. we will find him, we will see what this is, we will return here and beginnin again. Alexandria will fall and we will begin again, in new world, free.

  yes, says sfia, yes, mother, this is right. we will find father, make things right. findin Truth with him.

  it is right, i said also. i smile at mother. we will never return here. we will leave, we will not come bak. we all know this, and none speakin it.

  / sfia

  as we moved away mother spoke, kept speakin, talks of this and then this, speakin to fill emptiness in her and to cover ground we headed towards. as if speakin would make sense of her leavin and make safe what we moved in to. we took long cnoo, filled and strapped down, nzil and i took paddels. el sittin on mothers lap, chattrin also, for her it is great adventurin.

  mother did not look bak, not once, did not turn to see great Cloyster half drowned now in mere and Long Hall flooded and Water still risin below us. none speaks of what we left and will never come to again.

  in short time all of us have gone further than any in our lives, further than we had ever gone to fish or pray. only father has travelled far and returned. we must follow trails and Stars and Birds and what mother knows of Land and we must hope we reach holy hill. there is nothin else now but world spreadin before us and all things in it.

  Wind blowin today, Wind from west movin over Waters, we must push in to it. Wind is warm but strong, makin shapes on surface of Waters and sounds.

  listen, says mother then. sfia, nzil, stop rowin. listen.

  we listen. all around it is as if Waters whisper to them selves, as if beneath shiftin waves voices chattrin and sing. mother stopped talkin then, listens. we all hear it.

  Water is speakin.

  father once told me, mother said, of distant Waters he journeyed over many years ago. only him, alone in small cnoo on great mere and as he moved he begins to hear strange sounds. he said, Water was singin to me. then he stopped paddlin, lettin cnoo hang on Waters, and he looks down through these Waters which were so clere and beneath, far beneath, he saw great ruins of city. he seen torrs, he said, torrs and walls and one great spire and voice seems to sing from spire, sounds pulled up from depths through spire to surface and then through in to air. he did not want to leave, he said, it was as if this old city was callin him, as if old, old voices from deeps call him to stay here, come down, join them, and he must make great effort to pik up paddel again and movin away.

  i pulled harder on paddel then, we moved on in to Water and sound was still there, chattrin, whisprin all around. after some time i stopped pullin, rest me arms, turned and lookin bak for last time at hill, at our Edg. i seen then Bird Poles risin from Water to Sky, work of nzils life now stitchin current to current with no ground between, last solid things in great flow which makes us small, pushes us on.

  / el

  that night we slept in cnoo. it was hard to sleep, it kept rokkin and i was scared and happy at same time. it was amazin to be on Water, no Land round, only mere. i have never been any where i could not see Trees. i missed me Trees and me Birds. that day, paddlin without Land near, only Bird we saw was Gol, some times passin over head, cryin like he was sad. now at night, no Birds heard at all, only lappin of Water. mother, dada and mam were sleepin, pushed together close in cnoo.

  i was lyin between them, but i could not sleep, it was wobbly. i sat up and lookin out at dark mere. it was still warm. it is always warm, even on Water. it was so dark! i did hear
Water lappin but nothin else. no breeze, no Birds, and no Moon tonight. in Sky, Stars were like littel stones on fyr. i wondered if they would drop from Sky and in to cnoo. i would put them all in me littel leather bag, keepin them for ever.

  then when i was lookin out at mere i saw Stars on Water. i looked for long time, careful because it was strange, but it was true what i saw. it was like littel orange Stars flo-tin on mere long way out. littel flikkrin lights. they did look like Stars but they were not, they were like littel fyrs made by people, like candels, and they must have been flo-tin because they bobbed like our cnoo. no body else sees them, and i did not say any thing in morn when people woke because i forgot. i dont know what they were. i think there are magik things out here. i wonder where we will go next?

  / mother

  all is strange in Stars now. in Stars and in air all around. i have not heard this in any stories or Dreamin. Water risin, still risin. if yrvidian were here, he could follow it in Dreamin. if father were here, i could send him to Birds. Lady will tell me in time. some thing is comin. it is like whole Erth has shifted.

  will that thing follow? they always follow. we are few, but we can keep it off. it only has words. but what do we have? nothin left from what we were and built. only what we carry now, and what we are. only what we see.

  three days we paddled, Flis and Skitos heavy in air, hot even at night. seein line of Land long before we come to it and when we came we saw great trunks of Trees, wide as Long Hall, standin in risin Water. no strand, no moorin place. we bring cnoo in to thik of Brambel and Bambu on floor of this great holt. we climb out, bring our food and saks.

  we stand then, we fore, looking up at these great Trees, so tall and wide and silent as i have not seen. stillness and silence all around. there is buzzin of Fli and Skito and Mij, but no Birds, only great ringin silence of these things, risin now from Water.

  come, i say, let us move to higher ground. nzil and sfia shouldrin saks, i take els hand, we push through windin Brambel and Thorn.

  where now? says nzil.

  look for signs, i say. if they came this way they would have cut path. nzil, sfia, go searchin. i will stay here with el.

  i must sound sure for them, but i am not sure. i do not know this place. i am sure of nothin.

  can i go too? said el. i saw nzil turn, puttin out me hand to steady his arm.

  it is well, i said to him, and then to el: no. you stay with me. woods are not safe.

  why not? she said. what is here? ah, this girl, her freshness, it keeps us alive, i think now, helps us keep movin, that we have some thing to move for.

  / el

  they always tell me places are not safe now. ever since Catt and strange man i am not allowed to go any where. it makes me bored and fed up. why can i not look around wood with mam and dada? it is amazin new place, Trees are so big. Catt man will not be here, he could not follow us over Water. i played in holt for years at home and mam never cared where i was. she followed lorenso in to woods, but never followin me.

  when mother talked about things not bein safe, i remembered lights i had seen on Water that night. i wondered what they were, so i ask her. her face goin funny and she sat me on her lap. every one is so serious now.

  what did you see, girl? she said.

  lights, i said, like littel Stars, like fyrs bobbin on Water long way out.

  mother fiddlin with me hair then, tyin it up at bak where me pig tail has got loose.

  some times, she says then, there are strange people on these Waters.

  what strange people, i say. this sounds like adventurin. i am not allowed in woods any more, and me Catt has gone. may be from Waters magik will come.

  strange people, she says, old people. they live on botes, rarely comin to land. they have been here for ever, since before Wayland. long ago they took to Waters, keepin from Wayland and his stalkers, keepin away from all other humans. they are born and dyin at Sea, on meres, on rivers of this Land. they do not like us, do not want our type near them.

  i think this sounds good. i would like to live on bote for ever. i dont say that though. i say: can they hurt us?

  they may. we can not trust them. no body knows them. it has been said that they take children. for bad reasons, el, i will not tell you more. if you see lights movin on Water in that way it may be them. hungry ghasts, we call them. if you see this, you must say.

  what will you do if they come?

  i have things i can do. but you must say if you see any thing of this kind, el, do you see? do you understand? that man in holt, he could have harmed you. you must speak, speak out, girl. world is big, you see, with many strange things in it. they are not all nice.

  she hugs me then, tight, like she thinks i am scared. i am not scared. i want to see all these things in big world. i do not want them all to be nice. i am not baby. i would like to see lights comin closer. i would like to see Catt again. mother huggin me so tight now, i think it is her that is scared instead.

  / nzil

  soon enough we found their trail. they had hakked through Trees and vines and made small path. sfia and i we hitched saks on our baks and walkin together, mother and el comin last. walkin was hard, slow, even with cuts father made. we can see where his nife lands.

  we walk west, as ancestors did. this is way of humans, i think, for all time. when all changes, walk west.

  i feel like me lifes work is done. i have felt this since we began to move away. i saw me Poles reachin up to Sky. well, it may be they are offered to Sea now. it may be Swans will come. but i have done me work and i have done it well, done it with pride. now i flote and i will see what world bringin me. only one thing must i do now: keep me girl safe. i will watch her grow, easin her in to what world she will come in to. it is me last task. fathrin. hardest task and best.

  / mother

  we move slow, will take weeks. will we have them? we are deep in holt now, push through past great trunks of old Trees hummin low as we pass, singin to each other. we walk slow with young woman and old. we can not see Waters but they have been risin for weeks now. do they rise still?

  first night we stop in small glade, eatin what we had carried, dry Yam and Tayto and salt Fish, drank what we could from skins. we have not yet found spring. el was sleepin almost before we stopped. light comin late this high summer.

  in small glade was great Elder Tree. Elder of elders, bark lined as i am lined, limbs bent as mine are bent. old Tree he was, growin up to light as well he can. alone i stood with him, hearin deep hum in his veins, stood until i could hear it well, then i begin hummin with him. old Trees hummin deep, young hum high. we both stood in glade hummin song of this place, song that comes up from Clay and singin through long vein of all that lives.

  i placed me hands on his bark, we stand then, Elder and i, and we hum song of this small place on Erth. i sink in to his song, matchin his tone with mine and in time we sing together, one song as one bein. his song is different from all others. twenty paces west, Trees will hum in an other tone. Erth is great map of song like this, great Land scape of tone and musik. when humans forgot songs, when they sang their own over all others, one song for all places, that was when great dyin began. always walkin, never listnin, we are. always goin west.

  / k

  Ascension 481-K

  L: Albion Q14 – Nitria/Holland – #20 ‘Sfia’

  TD: Alexandria 237483830202/6988

  Result: Ongoing

  Transcript follows

  Following the recent debacle, I resolved to concentrate instead on the mother of #19. I judge her to be more emotionally labile than her offspring; certainly she exhibits less mental discipline. She continues to lust after poor #18, whose form I took in drawing her attention as her party slept, on their first night on dry land. The response was, as expected, both immediate and enthusiastic. She followed me quickly into the forest.

  Subsequent developments were less predictable.

  Due to the unorthodox environment and situation, I would expect this a
scension process to be more drawn out than others. I remain confident, however, that the result will prove positive.

  *

  Target: So this is what you are?

  K: You do not seem surprised to see me.

  T: I knew you were not Lorenso. You did not smell right. Is this how you lured him? Did you become me?

  K: He spoke about you a good deal. Perhaps he still does.

  T: Where is he?

  K: In Alexandria. He has become part of the great human whole. His potential expands as we speak. What—

  T: Poor boy. My poor, young boy. What did you do to him?

  K: I only spoke with him, offered him a chance to be something greater than he was.

  T: He was always on fire, always running. And now you think I will follow. Now you think I will follow for love of him.

  K: I have faith in your reason. There is much I can tell you.

  T: Ah, you strange thing. Look at you. What are you? Are you human, are you man, woman, animal?

  K: I am one of Wayland’s retainers. You may call me K.

  T: I may hang you from tree for what you have done to my beautiful young man.

  K: You are angry. You rage inside like winter storms.

  T: I am many things you do not sense. Do you think you can play with me like you did to him? I know what you do. I am not young like him. What did you do with his body, his beautiful young body?

  K: The body is an encumbrance. It is the mind that grows, pushes through. Wayland—

  T: Where is it?

  K: You should ask your father.

  T: Father was there?

  K: Rather too late, from his perspective. Perhaps he knows what became of the body of your lover.

  T: Do you know what body is?

  K: I know what a human is. I know the interconnected mass of tissue and blood, cell and bone, the map of lust and need. Each of you is a constellation of desires patterning the world. You do not know yourselves, or what you want or what you are. Your body drives you on, blindly.

 

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