The floor trembled as Christina ushered Phos into the corridor and turned right. The grassy shades of a summer’s morning flitted over the carved leaves above, and Phos scurried behind. Christina gestured at a room as they passed. ‘The first Second Enclavers were born without mothers, but with more time, we could visit the machines that nursed them.’ She glanced at a mossy patch creeping over the carved corridor wall. ‘Some equipment still works; some doesn’t; and some misbehaves.’
A yawning doorway twice the size of the others appeared to their left. Lights flared as they entered a circular room where desks and chairs faced outwards, so these pupils had stared at their blackboard walls – now mildewed slabs of curved black glass. Christina’s fingers grazed a sheet, and the ceiling dimmed as the fungus sloughed from the glass. White blotches glowed on the walls and swelled into scrolling letters as images of spinning apples and pears floated into view.
Words groaning with distorted letters, words married to pictures, fruit and animals, trees and houses, the bones of an ancient lesson. Most desks stayed lifeless, but a handful repeated the blackboard’s words.
‘I used to teach here, but until now I couldn’t bear to enter.’ Christina’s voice quavered as the glass blackboards mirrored her words.
‘You knew my name, so can you see what’s happening outside? I must see Mum.’ Phos’s words scratched themselves over the glass, a fiery-red invasion.
‘Are you certain? You’ve no time for distraction.’
‘She’s my mum, not a distraction.’
‘Will you help her if she’s in danger? Delay means not seeing the First.’
Phos blinked. ‘You said you couldn’t act without human permission, but does it work both ways? Do you take orders?’
Christina raised her arm. ‘Take my hand: I need your blood.’
Phos peeled off her glove and clasped Christina’s fingers. Papery skin rasped against Phos’s palm.
‘She’s alive, and I’ll show you.’
Fresh images welled over the walls, dancing shades of grey, and the picture moved though it looked as if an artist had carved it from grainy wood. Three women chatted without sound as fabric twitched behind them.
‘There’s no one I recognise,’ Phos said.
‘I’m seeing through your mother’s eyes. Your mother talks to people inside a tent, and they’re using lanterns. Is your mother’s name Shelaker?’
Phos nodded.
‘I’m reading lips; they used her name in a rude joke, so don’t worry.’
‘I can’t see Mum’s face?’
‘Not unless she uses a mirror.’ The pictures faded and Christina faced Phos. ‘Your world is dying, and reaching the First means leaving now, so we must speak to Caliper.’
‘You two have history. Are you luring him? He mentions you, and it’s like he’s praying or…well…I’m young, but I know a little about men, so seeing as you’re twice his height and made of dust specks glued together by light aren’t you promising what you can’t deliver?’
‘I only have words, Phos; even if they stretch across our world, they’re only words. Yes, I gave him false hope, but reshaping Morzenthal needed human permission.’ Christina stared upward. ‘Maybe I used hope as a tool, as a weapon, but everyone’s interests stayed deep inside what Gwen called my heart. Can you see?’
Phos perched on one of the tiny chairs. ‘How will you tell Caliper?’
‘With great care. Will you look for your mother?’
‘No. Finding her means dying with her.’
‘The First?’
‘The First, and the surface,’ Phos said.
‘We’ll visit the centre henge and travel upward. You’re wearing most of the required suit, but you missed the helmet.’
‘Those bowls I saw?’
‘You need your own air, and I’ll transport the equipment you need. The men outside mean we must leave at dawn. I’ll tweak this wall to let us pass. It shouldn’t admit children, but decay makes rule-breaking easier.’
‘These blackboards are broken? I fell through one earlier.’
‘Are your hands tingling?’
‘Oh, shut up – I’m nervous enough.’
‘We’ve no other way; I’ll enter first and you follow.’ Christina paused. ‘Your passion for learning will help you survive the First Enclave, but it will also bring danger. I can’t tell how the new world has changed or how Caliper’s talents will affect it, but go gently, and find a balance between researching and prodding.’
Her words scrolled across the blackboard but scattered as Christina strode into the dark glass. Phos closed her eyes and followed.
Blackness muzzled her. Was she hanging in space? Breath wouldn’t come and her heart jammed, but the world reappeared in a blink, a cell like the one where she’d refilled her water bottle. Christina strode through the far silver wall, and Phos followed. Back now, into the clanking cavern of echoing footsteps, and the black henge waited ahead. Her coiled rope still sprawled over the floor. The lanterns sitting between the henge stones drizzled out a purple glow too feeble to reach the ceiling.
‘How do we climb?’
Christina’s feet scuffed metal. ‘I’ll build us a road. I can follow you to upper Morzenthal but no further.’ She paused and stroked a henge pillar while looking upward.
‘What do these stones do?’
‘They house raw material for our climb.’ The pillar hissed as smoke coiled upward. The lanterns hurled out a red glare, and the air above rippled as if rising from a blaze.
‘Is that nanotech?’
‘No. The machines are invisible. You’re seeing their effect on the air.’
Phos arched her neck to follow the rippling smoke as crimson light glittered over the distant glass cubes. A rhythm seized the beams, and each pulse built the glow until light scalded her eyes. Vibrations left her feet aching and her teeth chattering as a ruddy glow stroked the ceiling.
Christina’s eyes closed, and her limbs locked like a statue’s, but something smoothed the pillar’s corners. Four streamers burst from the wall cubes overhead; filaments of red and gold spiralled into the centre and braided themselves into a pulsing ring above the henge. Cracks ripped through the screaming metal floor, and jagged black ridges burst out around the stone pillars, but Christina never moved.
‘Christina? What’s happening?’
The ring overhead swelled downward to touch the floor, a vast tunnel of light, a writhing cage. Smoke poured from the pillars, and the fumes pounced into the brilliant ring of filaments as the cage widened at the top to make a funnel. A low rumbling left Phos breathless. Half her mind demanded she plunge her hand into a beam, but she stood still.
A grinding noise rang out from Christina’s body, as if a plough had scraped a stone. She shuddered as smoke curled from her left fist, and her eyes opened.
‘We’re set, but don’t try returning to the classrooms.’
‘Problems?’
Christina stared at the charred stump of her hand. ‘Both Morzenthal and I are ancient, and changes hurt.’
Where had Christina’s thoughts drifted over these silent centuries? No wonder she’d talked to Caliper.
Christina sighed. ‘Only Caliper listened.’
Coincidence, or did Christina sense her thoughts? Phos stared. ‘He never stopped saying your name.’
‘He’s unique. At first everyone heard us, but the fourth generation were mostly deaf, and the fifth utterly so. Caliper is a….’ Christina’s face froze for a heartbeat. ‘There’s a problem. I asked Caliper to find me, and he’s broken a wall and uncovered an old path.’
‘Can we meet halfway?’
‘I can’t message him now, but my changes make his path lethal. We must stop him travelling, and he may not hear my voice, so you must tell him.’
‘I won’t forget, but how do we climb?’ Gold and scarlet streamers still raced around to wrap them in a glittering cone.
Christina stared upward. ‘This web holds our carrier fie
ld.’
‘What’s a carrier field?’
‘I’ll show you.’ A pearly fog foamed around their feet, and Phos jolted upward. Pressure thrust against her soles as the fog stretched out to the funnel’s sides.
‘This will raise us, but keep away from the sides.’
They rose an inch every few heartbeats, and Christina tapped her feet while looking at the ceiling. ‘Frinelia knows more than she’s told. Her church bathes in secrets, but ask her about the Heresies. People believed the nanotech would create cities for itself. If so, you must avoid those cities, but you must also learn to live from the land.’
‘What would these cities look like?’
‘I have no idea.’
Phos frowned.
‘The last records I saw of the First spoke of slender black glass spires rising from the ground, coils of plant life worming inside the towers, and carts wheeling outwards from the city as if exploring and claiming. The towers changed as the survivors watched; branches sprouted from the trunks. Ahh, why is this field so slow?’
‘These wonders, the metal creatures and new ways of travelling – even broken they’re breath-stealing. Why are they locked away? Most villagers sweat to set food on their plates, and they’ve no time to think.’
‘There’s your answer,’ Christina said.
‘You mean, work stops us thinking? Is that the church’s goal?’
‘Remember Frinelia’s word?’
‘Puppeteer?’
‘You didn’t fall into your current state; people desperate for control pushed you. I’ve watched priests teach each other how to operate medical apparatus or library systems or viewing platforms, and the priests wince as they touch the controls, but if they control food and medicine, others dance to their tunes. They’re terrified of commoners rising to their level.’
‘That’s why they cage books?’
‘We might open a cube festooning these walls and haul out devices to fashion clothes or mine the earth, but your priests seek to ration free time – commoners shouldn’t have time to think.’ Christina crouched in front of Phos. ‘I would teach you everything I know of the First and its tiny machines, but my knowledge is thousands of years old, and we have no time. But you’ve learned how to learn; you’ve asked questions and developed ideas.’
‘I ended up with a million ideas and no idea which was true.’
‘I’ve seen you test your world, Phos. The belt you threw into the light, your work to find water, the way you prised open the classroom door. You can develop ideas, test them, draw conclusions and test again – and each test brings the truth closer. You’ve rediscovered an ancient way of learning and a method impossible to hide, a light for every world. Use it in the First; refine it, and the Enclave may yield its secrets.’
‘What does Frinelia know?’
Christina stood and stepped back. ‘She’s risen far, but part of her knows she’ll never breach the church’s inner circle, and in part that’s why she seeks revenge.’
‘For her daughter?’
‘The histories she’s uncovered have helped her stitch together a story that doesn’t stray far from the truth, so keep her talking.’
Vibration deafened Phos and she looked up. The red light bathing their ceiling had vanished, and so had the arena’s floor. Only a yawning black gulf showed above, but shouldn’t she see the arena’s covering dome?
Their milky disc spread out as the funnel widened, and they glided through the space where stones had rolled through the air, and up into the arena. The old floor had vanished to leave a ring of stone circling an immense hole, and their motion slowed until their disc sat flush with the ancient stone floor. The throbbing pulse faded into a growling murmur before silence returned.
Wind buffeted her face, and the air held the damp chill of outdoor nights. The domed roof had gone, and the metal band she’d seen now formed a rim around a circle of night, but the vault stayed unseen. Their arena stood empty, and Phos called out to let her voice echo around the curving walls.
Christina clapped her hands, and silver light cascaded from her body. ‘This disc will rise at dawn, and if you and your friends are on board, it will lift you to the First. At dusk it returns here, but I can’t stop it repeating the journey tomorrow.’
‘Rastersen,’ Phos said.
‘He will follow. Passion burns inside him, and he believes your talent may oil his path to power.’
Phos nodded.
‘He sees you as a resource, but he also sees himself in you. He plans to steer you past the obstacles he endured, and use you to strengthen his hand.’
‘No. I’ll find my own way.’
Christina smiled. ‘I hope you will, but we must find Caliper.’ She breathed in while staring at the arena’s archways, where elders had torn canvas seals from two of the doors. ‘Do you know where everyone is?’
‘I’ve been away,’ Phos said. ‘Can’t you sense Caliper yourself?’
‘My vision here is poor, but we must find him.’
Phos darted towards an archway but stumbled with fatigue. Caliper had braved the carousel. She slapped aside the canvas and hurtled down the steps, and Christina followed to scatter shadows over the piles of exhibits. Three dolls knocked on their glass case as she scurried past. She tripped and fell against a stack of three bloated wooden heads. Their lips parted to hiss at her, but she darted away.
Lanterns bobbled in the distance. She entered an open space; two elders argued beside a tall glass case like an empty coffin, but they looked up at Christina and fell silent. A single elder stood four yards away beside a lamp, leaning on a single crutch, young for Morzenthal, with only a scatter of grey in his hair. Christina drifted towards him, and he collapsed backwards into a chair.
‘Sir, have you seen the miller, Caliper?’
His eyes flickered to Phos before he pointed down the hallway.
‘There’s our path.’ Phos ran forward and collided with a display case, but sounds drifted from ahead: metal bit into stone, and bricks tumbled as men’s cheers bounced from the walls.
Elders had brought lanterns here and shunted the display cases aside. Glass shards carpeted the floor. Caliper stood gripping a sledgehammer, and he’d punched a yawning fissure into an alcove’s back wall. Elders swarmed behind him, but gasps rang out as they saw Christina.
Phos’s throat was raw, her mouth papery, but her story needed delivering, and she elbowed herself through the elders. Christina held back.
Caliper stared into a dark tunnel, and his lantern threw light into a sloping passageway.
Phos smirked. ‘Where are we headed?’
Caliper kept facing the tunnel. ‘The stones trapped Phos underground, but they found plans, and this passage runs below.’
‘Does she still need rescuing?’ The room swirled around Phos as sweat trickled over her forehead.
Caliper stopped breathing, and his head swivelled towards her; his face was red.
‘How long…how long have you been…?’ He closed his lips as his swear words fermented. ‘I’ve spent hours breaking through, and you….’
‘Have you finished?’
‘I’ve not even started. I’ve not….’
‘Don’t use this passageway,’ she said. ‘There’s lots to say, but that’s most important. There’s something else, and someone else.’
‘Christina is down there.’
Phos shook her head and turned. The miller’s gaze followed her raised arm, and the now silent Morzenthal elders shuffled to clear his view. Phos couldn’t read Christina’s face, but a set of wrinkles vanished from her robe, and a few wisps of her hair straightened themselves.
‘Hello, Caliper,’ Christina said.
Chapter 19: grasp the circle’s end
Christina’s arms rose from her sides, and peach-like tones flushed across her face as her crimson robe shone like dawn against the gloom. Still twice his height; her image blurred as if he stared through a sheet of ice, but now she wouldn’t disappear. Chr
istina tilted her head a fraction as brown hair framed her face, and hints of silver light trickled from her dress as if she were a lantern swaddled in gauze. The rays picked out the dust he’d knocked into the air.
The elders parted around Christina. Most stared, but five knelt to bow their heads, and Phos stayed still.
‘Christina, I….’ Could he stop his staring?
‘Do you understand me?’
Christina’s words dripped into his mind like leaves landing on still water, and he nodded.
‘Good to see you alive, Caliper. The path behind isn’t safe.’
Should he read anything into the way she pressed her lips together? ‘You came and brought Phos.’
Christina took one step forward before pausing. ‘There are two stories. One you may not believe, but the other….’ Her mouth twitched, but her eyes never blinked. His gaze darted to the carousel’s shadowy tapestries and the elders swarming Christina; they looked like crumpled paper dolls. Phos stood apart. Her lips formed words, and her broken syllables skittered against Caliper’s ears.
Caliper frowned. ‘I’m only hearing you, Christina.’
‘I’ll adjust.’
Phos’s voice pierced the murk. ‘Is everything all right? Should we wheel you somewhere?’
‘Can Phos hear me?’
‘Yes, Phos can hear you,’ Phos said. ‘There’s a cloud linking you two.’
Colour oozed back into the crowding elders, and creases grew on Christina’s robe as she stepped back and faced the crowd.
‘Can everyone understand me?’
The elders gasped, and one elderly man fainted. The distant hammering returned as a demand booming across the carousel.
Christina raised her arms. Her left hand was a clotted mass of grey ash. ‘I sense questions everywhere, and answers will come, but let me spend time with your miller. Tomorrow you may not recognise your city, so prepare for change.’
A smile; her gaze touched him again, and the world around Christina blurred and darkened. ‘No one will hear us now, and we’ll rejoin Phos later.’
Lightmaker Page 21