Part 13 (2/2)
We three move silently through the night of the Lower City; and moving around us are the ghosts, for seventies upon seventies of Human children have died upon this mountain.
All races have stories of ghosts. Even we Hlutr know them, for our departed ones are ever with us...the taste of their memories in the sweet soil and the silver rains, the echo of their Inner Voice that rebounds through the Galaxy, the influence they have had upon the shape of the Universal Song. Standing here in the tranquil midnight of Escen, I can hear the song of the first of our folk to grow upon this globe, when s.p.a.ceborne seeds found spa.r.s.e nourishment in the primitive organic molecules and simple cells that thrived in primordial seas. I remember the acrid touch of methane and ammonia winds on hardened bark, the ever-so-careful manipulations to encourage that photosynthesis which would make Escen a fit home for life.
As the voices of these ancient ancestors sing within me, I hear echoes in their minds-echoes of a still earlier era, three billion years ago, when the Eldest of All was young and Hlutr spores first left the security of the Galactic Core to venture into the night of the Scattered Worlds. Still older voices sing, telling of a time before the Pylistroph, when the Seven Races lived in turmoil beneath the seventy billion suns of the Core, and even the Elder G.o.ds were unknown.
There is no end to Hlutr ghosts, and not a few foolish saplings have lost their way in the song of ages gone by, returning to themselves only to find half a billion years pa.s.sed and their worlds changed beyond recognition. I have no ambition to suffer such a fate; yet the ghosts call, beckoning me to remember a time before my home Escen was yet formed, when the Five Animal Races were unborn and the Hlutr sang their lonely song from the good soil of lost Paka Tel. Even then, four billion years ago as Humans count time, my folk had a long history; our bodies were different and our minds a bit strange, but still we sang the Universal Song and dreamed of our place in its melody. We regarded the skies, and knew that it was our destiny to bring life and diversity to all those distant, lovely stars.
And before the first Hlut sang with the touch of the Inner Voice? Before we gained our command of biological evolution, and structured our own natures to fit our purposes? Our ghosts do not tell. Perhaps the Talebba know, those crystalline intellects whose slow song awaited the first true Hlutr who cast their minds toward s.p.a.ce. Hlutr legend tells that some of the Talebba were formed from light and matter in the very birth throes of the universe; perhaps their ghosts know of the beginning of my folk. For myself, I have presumed enough for one night, enough perhaps for one lifetime. Gratefully, I return my attention to Doku, Robbie and the children of Karphos.
The high wall separating Lower and Middle Cities is not impa.s.sable. In places stone and metal have been severely weathered, or broken by rockslides; in other locations the deliberate work of Human tools is evident. Robbie leads us over the rubble, then pauses, thinking.
In the Middle City structures are more elaborate and more numerous than below; buildings are laid out along unpaved streets in an arrangement that resembles the plan of Moulmein, Nerang or the other cities of Escen. We follow Robbie up one narrow street to a large back building where a single flickering light burns in one corner window.
”T-T-T-There's a nice lady here, she'll help you.” Robbie taps on the wooden door, which swings open after a second. A little girl, perhaps eight Escen years old, peers out.
”Go away,” she hisses. ”It's the middle of the night.”
”Please L-i-i-let us in.”
The girl looks up and down the street. ”You I know...what about her?” She indicates Doku.
”She's my f-f:friend. Please.”
”Come in.” I follow Doku, but the Human girl bars my way with a foot. ”Leave the animal outside. What is that thing?”
Before Doku can answer, I rise up on my hind legs and look the Human girl directly in the eyes. ”I beg your pardon. I am not a 'thing.' ”
She backs off. and I cross the threshold behind Robbie and Doku. The door slams; in dim, reflected light I see that we are in a small entryway. Doorways lead into other rooms.
The girl faces Robbie. ”You should have known better than to bring them here. Especially an alien. They're probably from the Peak. I ought to throw you all out in the street-”
”Elly, what's going on out here?”
The new voice comes from a young woman, no longer a child and yet not fully adult, who stands in a doorway. She is twice Doku's height, and her long dark hair falls down her back like a luxurious mane. Although her voice is calm and quiet, it fascinates like the cry of a nightbird. With wide, friendly eves she examines us, then smiles.
”Welcome. I am Lusela Holic, and this is my school. Robbie will you and your friends come with me? Elly, that's all.”
”But ... ”
”Good night, Elly.” When the girl has withdrawn, Lusela Holic beckons us to follow her into the corner room, where she sits before a computer terminal. ”Make yourselves comfortable. Elly didn't mean any harm; it's just that everyone has been jumpy lately.”
Doku, apparently completely at ease, takes a chair. ”You're the first grownup we've run into.”
”I'm hardly a grownup. You're right, though- I'm nineteen, and I'm the oldest person you're likely to see outside the Peak.” She lowers her eyes. ”That's part of the problem.”
”What problem?”
”I've been here for fifteen years, and I'm getting too old. So far, the Peak hasn't been able to do anything to me ... I've helped a lot of kids, and I have friends.” She spreads her hands. ”Sooner or later, that won't help me.”
Wrinkling her nose, Doku says, ”I don't understand.”
”You're new. Corella is a place for children. Once you get too old, if you're not one of those on the Peak, then it's the Hunt, or the slaughterhouse...or maybe one night you get a visit, and you're not around the next morning.” Lusela Holic sighs. ”That's my problem, not yours. You must need help, or you wouldn't have come to me. What can I do for you?”
”They w-w-w-want to go to the Peak,” Robbie says.
”I'm Doku Tomich and this is Shalit, my friend. We're looking for a particular child. Robbie says we need to go to the Peak.”
Lusela narrows her eyes. ”You're from the Outside?”
”We are.”
”And you're not a child.”
”Does it show?”
”Only to me.” She shakes her head. ”Others have come through before, wanting to rescue a particular child. Avidore always finds out. You're in danger, you know that?”
”Who is Avidore? What kind of power does he have?”
”Mr. Avidore runs Corella, and he knows everything that goes on here. You're just going to get caught. And he doesn't like people from Outside. You should leave this planet, now.” Her voice and her inner song both are firm.
”You make it sound like it's easy to leave.”
”I a.s.sume you have a way to get offworld. If not, I can arrange something. I still have friends on the Peak.”
Doku is surprised. ”You've helped others to get away?”
”Some. Over the years.”
My friend's voice is filled with puzzlement. ”Then why hasn't this place been investigated before?”
”Now I know for sure that you are not truly a child. Some who went home told of Corella. They were not believed. Adults don't credit what children tell them. They say that we're pretending, or that we don't know what we're talking about. Many children were even sent back.”
”I don't believe any parent would do that.”
Lusela shrugs. ”You see?” She shakes her head and turns to the terminal. ”Never mind. Who is the child you're looking for? Maybe I can find some reference to him.”
I look at her and I can tell that she is captivated by Shalit's deep eyes. ”I believe you, Lusela Holic. Now believe me- changes will come to this world. Humans may ignore what happens here; but now the Hlutr are interested, and I promise you that something will be done.”
For a second, she does not react; then her face changes and the melody of her inner song alters. Lusela Holic is sensitive enough to the Inner Voice that she feels the truth of what I say.
”Thank you.” She brushes a hand across her eyes, the smiles. ”What is the child's name?”
Ten minutes later, we have an answer.
”This girl you're looking for must be awfully cute, or terribly smart. She's on the Peak.”
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