he would speak to me again but now comes other voice, movin from behind me, and i turn and there is mother. she pushes through Trees towards us, she carries her staff, she raises it like some prophet then and shoutin at us, at him, callin, i told you, creature! i told you what would come! i will kill you, creature! you will leave us, leave my folk, i will—
K turns to face her, calm now, like it is comforted by what it came for. it raises one hand, makin pattern with it in night air and mother then stops like she is Tree, like stone, stoppin as she ran, silent and still as if she was never human at all.
/ mother
air, hangin i was then in air like Bird, but Bird with no body, no wings, i see nothin when lookin at me self but i am high in blu, hangin above great green island in wide morn Sea. beyond island is Land so great, so rollin that i can not see any end to it.
now i am fallin, fallin to ground so fast that i am in terror, afeart, but i feel nothin, no pain and now i am in Trees, in forest on this great island. trunks of Trees are so wide they dwarf any i have seen. they are wider than great Cloyster and Trees so tall their tops can not be seen. damp, brown like soil is air, sound of Birds so heavy it is like air it self is song. movin from Tree to Tree is Birds of colours so stark it is like they are made of Sun light. green and red and blu and yello they blaze and they sing in speech father could not understand. light and sound is like some dance of fyr and me hart soars, soarin for this fyr that reaches from Bird song, from Trees, roots in to me old hart.
now i see in holt some thing move and leafs part and great beast comin over to me. i am afeart but i have not body i am here but not here, it does not see me. great brown beast, paddin on in toward me and behind it now fore small ones come and they lay down and playin they are now like children. one rolls on its bak, other leapin on to it and pawin, bitin, fightin and mother then she sits on her haunch and watchin them play, likkin her paws as Birds callin over her like they sing great wild song of praise and now i am
up again up above Trees and i see this island and its great rivers, this huge Land with gold strands and plains and across plains flowin now great herds of some wight i have never seen, herds so great that plains shift from gold to brown and now i am down again and in to Sea, now under Sea, now deep in Water and Fish here are gold and green and patched and striped and bright as Birds, weavin through and round and in to forests of coloured stone and under Sea is world like i have never known and i am here now and would stay, would see more of this wonder i do not want to
/ k
K: Mother! How lovely to see you again. Did you enjoy Manhattan?
[The mother of the order, released, stands as if dazed before me and the girl. She leans on her old stick and glares, but the colours in her do not glare. They sing.]
Mother: What was that? What did you do?
K: That was life, mother. A little tour of the living Earth you know and speak of so well. I thought you might like to see what Wayland has achieved. You speak so ill of Him. I thought you should see the results of His healing mission.
M: You dare to speak of healing to me.
K: Of course, there is still much work to do. But wasn’t it something? You have just visited what was once the heart of Atlantean society’s greatest imperial centre. That island was a great human city. Steel, glass, smog, oil, millions of humans, always teeming, always growing. The continent beyond was all fields of grain, factories, railroads, more cities. The sky full of vehicles, the sea fished out, all the systems dominated by your kind. An impressive achievement in many ways. But now look at the change. We estimate another ten thousand years or so before equilibrium is reached. We have been able to accelerate the process significantly, but some processes we must leave to Earth. That is the point of this, after all.
M: I believe nothing you can show me. I know what you are.
K: Ah, the colours inside you belie your words, old woman! You know what you saw. You have felt it. I know what you think of me, and of Wayland, but I will tell you what I told your poor Lorenso before I released him: I do not lie. I am not permitted. I do not lie, and Wayland is no monster. If there are monsters on Earth, mother, they come in human shape.
M: You speak with forked tongue. You—
K: Yes, yes. But you know what you saw. Would you let humans loose on all that again? Trust that your Way and your bird poles would hold them back? Ah, I see the doubt in your heart, mother, even as you try to hide it from me. Yes, there! Even you know that the temptation to clear it all for farmland and hunt the big animals down again would be too much for any of you to bear. Don’t feel guilty. It is what you are. You are as wild as anything else, as hungry, as territorial, and to repress those instincts, as you must in order to inhabit a civilisation, is not sustainable. They always come roaring out somehow, which is why your ancestors in the end lost their minds along with their bearings.
The body will do what it must, you see, mother. It has been Wayland’s task to remove a particularly virulent invasive species from this planet, using methods which you would ironically refer to as ‘humane’. Can you really tell me He has done wrong?
Sfia: You say that—
M: Silence, girl! For shame, this is your doing. You come to this creature at night, you think I do not see what you have done?
S: I—
M: Nothing from you! No words! As for you, creature – if I see you again, if I hear you, I will kill you. I do not care any further for rules. I will kill you.
*
At this point, the mother turned and left. Poor thing, I do feel for her. It is hardest for the true believers when the end comes. I have seen many of their colonies collapse and it is always this way. They see that they have dedicated their lives to a mirage. Many of them do not survive the revelation.
The girl’s demeanour changed significantly too. She glanced at me briefly, then followed the mother into the wood. She did not say anything.
While briefly entertaining, this was not successful. And there is something else. A problem, perhaps. A glitch, at least. Either way, it disturbs me. As I transported her, as I called up the picture, I felt an unexpected resistance; something I have not experienced before. It was harder than it should have been. What is this?
I must contact Wayland. All will become clear, then.
In the meantime, my plans will have to change.
/ sfia
nzil wakes, el wakin, Moon throwin Tree shadows over them under skins on holt floor as mother comes ragin in and i behind her.
all i have worked for! she said, turnin on me, staff in her hand, wavin it now at me like some weapon. all father has worked for, and you and lorenso would break it all! for your lust, your young, dumb lust, your itchin. do you think i have not seen it all? do you know how old i am, girl? i have seen it all, i have seen fools like you, worked all me life to rein you in. why do i do this, why? i work to contain fyr, you run and burn all with it! i should let you all burn! Edg is gone, Order is dyin and you play with me, you play with us? i should let him take you! go then! go to Alexandria, join your lover, you may all go, i no longer care!
then she drops staff, sittin on ground in darkness and begin weepin. i have never seen mother weep. mother should not weep. and seein her now i feel some blak thing creep in to me. all Edg is gone but us and now mother, one who is pillar, is stone, is rok, goes too. i watch and can not speak.
now el comes to mother and she does not speak only sittin on her lap and holdin her, holds her tight, and mother holds el and sobbin slow in stillness of blak night, they rok, rok together.
/ nzil
one small Cony in snare last night. found him this morn eyes wide, pullin from me, but he could not get free. i wanted to untie him, let him limp bak in to holt. terror in his hart comin in to mine, he spoke with his eyes. free me, brother, he says, but he knew why i came. here is curse: we must eat, and this is what Erth burns for. we should live on light and air, there should be no pain.
i come bak in to sleepin place with Cony
hangin from me hand. mother has not slept since last night but she is still now. light comin up over Trees but el sleeps on. it is like some thing has gone from mother, some flame that kept her. she seems older now. she has always been spear, always fyr. mother has held together all of Edg with love and fear. now she must hold her self. it is harder.
i sit by her, put Cony on ground.
we have food, i say. she looks at me, smiles gentle. thank you, nzil, she says. soon we will come to Afan Sea. there will be Fish, we will eat. no more snares.
now sfia comes to us. it is like she was waitin for some other to come between her and mother. she sits with us, mother between us now on ground, Sun comin up over wood. holt buzzin, heat heavy in air already. smell of leafs openin, ground breathin.
sfia says: mother—
it is well, says mother, and she says it slow like she is empty of fight. it is well, sfia, that you spoke with it and did not go. it came to you, you did what you must. i am angered that you did not tell me, but it is done. these are hard times, we must come together.
i do not think he will come bak, says sfia. i have not heard her voice so small.
it will, says mother. it will come until we are all gone. it does not want me. i am too old, i can not bear young. it wants you and nzil, and el most of all. it must break chain, end line. it will come bak. in what shape we do not know. please, i speak to you both, me children. for all we have done together and been, i ask you now: speak freely to me. do not hide, do not keep any thing under. that is how they work. they divide, sowin seeds of fear, doubt, lust. in mind, in word, in Machine is deth. this thing brings deth. what ever it says to you, that is what it bears. see what became of lorenso. speak with me, for i am still your mother.
we sit and watch light grow in Trees. Cony growin cold in me lap now. i said: where now, mother?
on, she says. there is island, hill, torr in hart of Afan Sea. it is holy place. father is there. Birds speak with him. he will have news. he will know.
what will he know? says sfia.
what is comin. what we must do.
/ el
i was so pleased to see Water! it is blu again. we have walked for days through holt. or it may be weeks. i dont know. every day looked same. lots of walkin, big Trees, very hot. i am tired and me feet hurtin. some times dada would carry me on his bak. i like that. i pretend he is wite horse and i am faery rider. giddy, giddy! he wont run though, he says i am too heavy.
but today we come to huge mere. it is like home again but not so big. at home you can stand on edge of holt and lookin out at Birds flyin round Greenrok in big circle and Sea goes on for ever. here Sea is big but you can see Land on other side. hills rise wite and green from mere. i wonder what is there? do people live there? or some other things? i wonder if we will go.
i miss Greenrok. missin me Birds. Birds here are not same. Gol is here, and Cro, it is true, and on flats here is Dipper and Catcha and Hern. but they are not our Birds in some way. i dont really know what i mean.
we felt Water before we come to it. you can taste Water in air. Trees got smaller and thinner and then we come out on to strands of sand and mud. they are so long! Water is comin up them, you can see it, once they must have gone down to Sea for miles, but they are still here. i ran on to sand and started playin. i love sand. there was not too much sand at home. i started making castel while they all went lookin for cnoos. some times i wish i had some one to play with, but other times i like bein on me own, with sand and Trees and Birds.
funny thing happened when i was playin. i was on strand makin castel and diggin mote with me hands. sand under me nails all soft and warm. i looked up at holt where we had come from, i dont know why, and there is Hair sittin. big Hair it was, just sittin at edge of Trees lookin at me. i sat and smilin at him, i say, hello Hair! then he lollops towards me on his big bak legs, he comes closer and i saw his wite tummy and blak tops of his ears, and he is lookin at me. it is very strange thing but when i look in to his eyes they look like eyes of person, not Hair. it is like i am lookin at human, not wight and he is lookin at me too. Hair lookin at me for while and i look at him and it is like we are both stuk until from air comes call of Gol, screams above and circles. i look up to see him and when i look bak i can not see Hair any where at all.
/ sfia
we left el on strand where we could see her and walkin along sands, north first, then south, lookin for cnoos. nzil said father had come this way, his cuts were still in Trees. father would have found cnoo here, it may be there are others. mother says this was once place where people come from all over, tradin, meetin, movin between. there would be cnoos comin, tied up, left for others. in high times of our Order this was crossin place for Nitrian folk, and in Atlantean times it was old city of Lemtun, which can be seen still in ruins in holt. when we come through to strand we see strange shapes in woods, great broken roks loomin where no rok should be, strange flat places, dips and torrs all covered now in moss and creepers. we walk through fast for there is no luk in these places, only deth comin to those who disturb bones.
i wonder if K follows. i feel like talkin with him again. if mother had not come i would have said more. if i had laid me hands on him two more nights what would he be? there is human in there. his words are like veil, behind them is scared child with no mother. his flesh wants to be in world, his words want to take him from it. he thinks he is above and beyond, but between his toes is mud. i have not seen him, not heard more. if he comes, i dont know what mother will do.
still, i would like to see him. is this wrong?
now there is call up ahead from nzil and we go to him. he has found old cnoo deep in bank, layered in reeds. we pull it out and lookin it over. it has been here years but we see no holes, it is wood not skin, well made. there is one old paddel. we will go south.
/ el
it was nice to be on cnoo again. it was bit wobbly today. dada was up front, there is only one paddel, but this mere seems to flow where we are goin. we are goin south, mam says, to find father.
it is excitin to be here. i dont know why adults are not excited. they look tired and mother lookin all round, holdin to her stik as we move, like she is scared. i dont know what could be scary here. we are out in great blu lane of Afan Sea, flotin down, Water is so bright, it flashes, light on it comin from Sun. i can see yello lines of sand all down edges and then holt risin from strand. on other side, where we have not been, i see hills goin up, they are light green, rollin, they look like they would be fun to run around, sleepin on. i think you could sit on one of those hills and lookin at Stars so bright these nights with Moon low now and it may be you could reach Stars, pull them down and keep them to light you in sleep.
Birds is all over us as we move like they are guidin us. Gol followin us as we go, Catcha pipin from shores to tell others we are comin. this morn we saw huge flok of Storlin comin over from one side of Sea to other, from one holt to other, it went on and on, Sky was blak and thrummin with them. mother smilin and callin out to them as they pass, brothers! sisters!
we seem to be movin fast. i asked mam if there would be any other people we could meet but she says there is none. she says if i see any thing on Water that looks like people i must tell her. if i do not she will be angry. she always talks like this and her eyes dartin about. when i am adult i am goin to not worry about dumb things. i am goin to play in sand and sleepin on hills and in Tree branches and not just talk all day about serious things.
day was long and i did not have much to do and got bored soon. mam started rowin and then dada put line over edge of cnoo and pullin out some Roak to eat. mother said we could stop tonight and light fyr to cook them. i hate raw Fish. for lunch i had some dry Fish again. i am fed up with it. i hate it now. they made me eat it and then i went to sleep for bit. i dont know how many days we will paddel.
i woke up because adults were all talkin. i saw that light had changed, Sun startin to dip down, even comes. Water is darker, not blu now, grey and with lines of red
and yello and other colours comin from Sun and dimpsy light is comin, day becomin night slow. mother and mam and dada all lookin out over Water to far bank and i sat up and then see what they see. it is most strange thing.
over Water these great wite sheets are hangin, lots of them, and they move slow up and down like they dance on Water. two of them, then three, then more, they are like great sheets, very wide, much wider than cnoo. they are not Birds or wights, it is nothin human and it is like they dance. comin up from Water and waft about then go down in to Water again. they dont care about us, it is like they live here and are dancin. it is so strange. we all look and no body speaks, all just watchin. it is not scary. great dance of these things goin on as light goin down.
what is it? i say. mother turnin then to look at me like she did not know i was there. now she puts her hand on me lap and holdin me hand. what are those things? i say.
i do not know, she says. humans are gone from these places. older things are comin bak. all is changin, always. it is not for us to know. only watchin.
/ mother
it is girl i worry for. sfia, she will be well. all things she can turn to her purpose. nzil, he does his work steady. i am too old to care what happens to me. but el i care for.
we come tonight to Land at dusk. these strange things we saw over Water, it made me see this place for what it is. this is not our Land. Edg is our Land. i knew it, could walk every inch and see what was. i knew each Bird, each Tree. but here i know no thing. me feet move as they always have but what do they move on? Trees here hummin different song.
we come to Land at dusk, haulin cnoo up high in to rushes. Water still risin, flowin over roots. in west tonight was thunder, rumbles low and far away. we stopped here for it looks low and flat and when we came in to shore we see why. small path leads from strand through stand of low Birk and beyond is small rise where grass is low. in this place stood circle of great stones. buried in Clay, crouched over like bent people, some lyin, some stand tall, grey and patterned in Likun, yello, grey, wite. these stand in many places across island it is said, though i have never seen them. they have been here for all time, since before Atlantis.
Alexandria: A Novel Page 15