Authors: Eric Brown
“How
long will it take?”
Ehrin
said, “What? Half a day... a little less. If we start right away, then I’ll
deliver it before midday. And then...”
The
alien grimaced. “You are eager to learn more of the strange universe out
there.”
“Eager
would be an understatement, Havor.”
The
alien looked at him. “To live on a world where the sky is forever grey, hiding
the stars and the levels beyond...”
“Stars?
Ehrin echoed. “Levels?”
Havor
grumbled his distinctive laugh again, and slapped Ehrin on the back, a blow
that almost sent him flying. “I will return to my ship, and await your return.”
Reluctantly,
Ehrin left the freighter’s hold with Kahran, carefully locking the doors behind
them.
For
the rest of the day they worked on a lathe to reproduce the failed part,
discarding their first effort as clumsy and concentrating even harder on the
second. As he worked, Ehrin thought of the alien in the freighter—and the
people of Agstarn going about their normal, routine business as if nothing had
changed, as if there were no strange being in their midst who had promised to
reveal the secrets of the universe.
The
work of the foundry went on around him, work which usually would have absorbed
his attention. Now it seemed almost futile, the fussing of so many ants working
to build that which, to more advanced life forms, would seem banal and
backward. He wondered if anything in his life would ever be the same again.
They
had almost completed the second cylinder when the factory foreman approached
and, above the noise of the foundry, announced that Ehrin had a caller: Sereth.
He felt a momentary pang of resentment, and then guilt. He told the foreman to
show her up to his rooms, then reluctantly left the last of the work to Kahran.
Wondering
what Sereth might want, Ehrin left the factory floor and climbed the stairs to
his attic rooms.
Sereth was pacing
back
and forth before the semicircular window when Ehrin pushed open the door. She
looked up quickly and with a shriek ran across to him, embracing him fiercely.
“Ehrin, my love. Strange, terrible things have been happening today!”
“Ser,
calm down. What strange things?”
“I
don’t know where to begin—”
“Begin,”
he said, “by sitting down and taking a drink. Tisane?”
“Something
stronger. Do you have spirit?”
He
guided her to the sofa beside the window, poured two stiff measures and sat
down beside her. “Take this. Slowly. Now, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
It
could only be something to do with Elder Cannak, Ehrin thought. The Elder had
reported them to Prelate Hykell...
Sereth
held the glass in both hands and took a restorative swallow. She coughed a little
and composed herself. “Very well. First of all, you are in danger. That’s why I
had to come over straight away and warn you.”
“Cannak?”
he said.
She
nodded. “When I came back from college today, father was in a flap. He’d
attended an extraordinary council meeting. Velkor Cannak had called it, to
discuss certain matters arising from the expedition to the western plain. He
claimed that it was a matter of urgency, and wouldn’t be put off.”
Ehrin’s
mind raced. A matter of urgency? Had Cannak learned about Havor and the
interworld ship? Kyrik, he thought—the pious geologist. He had seen the ship in
the hold, become suspicious and informed Cannak.
“Your
father was at the council meeting?”
Sereth
nodded. “His attendance, as a bishop, was compulsory.”
“And
he told you what Cannak said?”
“He
was most upset. Cannak recounted the journey to the western plains, and read
verbatim from notes he had taken during the trip. These were to the effect that
you, Ehrin, and Kahran had indulged in irreligious dialogue bordering on the
sacrilegious. My father admitted that, if Cannak was to be believed, then what
you said was beyond the acceptable.”
Ehrin
sat back and laughed, much relieved.
Sereth
stared at him. “Ehrin, have you taken leave of your reason? Cannak has reported
you to the High Council, for mercy’s sake!”
“Is
that all?”
“Is
that all? Do you realise what punishment the High Council can inflict?”
“Velkor
Cannak is an old fool. Even the High Council wouldn’t take his words
seriously.”
Sereth
was staring at him, shaking her head. “But they have! Cannak laid before them
the facts and requested your immediate arrest.”
His
initial impulse was to scoff. So what if they arrested him, and charged him
with sacrilege? What might be the repercussions?
He
said, “And if we are arrested?”
Sereth
stared down at her hands, clasped around the glass. “You’ll be questioned by
the Inquisitors of the High Council. They will learn the truth.”
“That,
Sereth, sounds like a euphemism.”
She
looked up at him. “My father has only harsh words for the Inquisitors. He’s a
moderate, as you know. He has no time for Hykell’s methods.”
And
if the Inquisitors did torture him, might they extract from him more than the
mere fact that he was a heathen disbeliever?
“So
I will admit, before they bring out the thumbscrews, that I find their cult a
farce.”
“Ehrin,
you fool! Can’t you see the danger you’re in?”
“What
will they do to me, Sereth, if they do learn the truth, that we did indulge in
‘irreligious dialogue’?”
She
just stared at him. “Ehrin, you are a public figure. You are respected in the
community. If word was to get out that you held sacrilegious beliefs, you’d be
shunned, disgraced. And, if Cannak has it his way, then word will get but—he
wants it made public record that you are to be arraigned to stand before the
High Council.”
Ehrin
nodded. “What did the other bishops say?” he asked. “I take it they arrived at
a decision?”
She
shook her head. “The Council was split. Three for the motion, three against.
That means Hykell has the casting vote, and will decide later today.”
“In
that case Kahran and I had better prepare ourselves for a grilling.”
She
reached out and took his hand. “My father advised me to find you. He gave
instructions, which I had to pass on. He says that when you are arrested and
questioned, you must admit the offence and claim extenuating circumstances: he
said that you are to claim you were drunk at the time of speaking with Cannak.
We did drink much summer-fruit wine, Ehrin. As the only other witness, I will
be called, and I will testify that this was so.”
“And
this will get me off the charge of sacrilege?” Ehrin said sceptically.
“My
father thinks that it might be seen as a mitigating factor, and that your
punishment might be therefore less severe.”
“Only
five hours on the freezing frame instead of ten?”
“Ehrin,
how can you joke about something as serious as this! My father said that the
Church might satisfy themselves by imposing a heavy fine, and that you might
even get away without it being made public.”
“And
I should be grateful for the Church’s leniency?”
“You
should be grateful that the Church won’t impose a prison sentence—though that
isn’t out of the question.”
He
closed his eyes and rubbed his temples wearily. He wanted to laugh at the
Church and their petty rules, their bigoted perspective on reality. Instead, to
appease Sereth, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “Very well, Sereth. I
will do as your father suggested. Please thank him for me.”
She
looked at him for a long time, something unsettling in her gaze. “What is it?”
he asked. “I’ve said I’ll kow-tow, haven’t I?”
She
replied evenly, “Ehrin, I sometimes wonder about you. About us. We have
everything. We are affluent and privileged; we are at the peaks of our
respective careers, and out of pig-headedness you run the risk of ruining both
our lives.”
He
kept his anger under control. “Sereth, it isn’t pig-headedness. It is a
profound hatred of the Church and everything it stands for.”
Her
reaction was surprising. He had expected a tirade, a torrent of abuse. Instead,
she just bent her head and sobbed. When he attempted to take her shoulder, she
batted his hand away and wailed, “Once, not long ago, Ehrin, everything was so
certain. I knew what the world was, that the Church was always right, that if
we followed the righteous path, then we would be rewarded both materially and
spiritually...” She looked up, and her expression was stricken. “And now, now
everything is in chaos!”
He
had the paradoxical urge to tell her that, just because he disbelieved, it
should not necessarily undermine her own system of belief.
She
looked up. “What is happening, Ehrin?”
He
looked at her. “Happening?”
“I
told you that terrible, strange things had happened today.”
“But
I thought...” he began.
“My
father had some other news. He tried to tell me in such a way as to reassure me
that he was not concerned... but I know my father. I know when he is troubled.”
“Sereth,
you’re talking in riddles.”
“My
father said that there was a rumour going around the penitentiary. He had it
from a reliable source that a number of... of strange beings had been captured
on the western plains and were now languishing in cells.” She stopped, looked
up at him, and went on, “They are unlike any other creature ever seen,
according to my father. I could see that he was deeply troubled.”
Ehrin
shook his head. Even more aliens? He wondered if other Zorl beside Havor had
made the crossing between worlds.
He
reached out and took her hand. She said in a small voice, “What’s happening,
Ehrin? What is true? The Church says that other worlds do not exist, that this
is God’s only world. But I could see in my father’s eyes the light of doubt...”
He
held her hand as she wept. “We live in uncertain times, Sereth. But the one
thing you can be certain of is that I love you. That might not be much, but
it’s the only consolation I can offer.”
She
looked up, tears melting her brown eyes, and smiled at him.
“I
must go. I told my father that I would stay with him tonight.”
He
went with her from the attic and down the stairs to the foundry, quiet now that
the shift had finished and the workers had returned to their homes.
He
embraced her at the door. Sereth said, “Promise me you won’t be foolish if the
High Council comes for you? Promise me, Ehrin.”
He
nodded and kissed her. “You have my word,” he said.
He
watched her as she fastened her skates, waved forlornly and set off along the
ice canal. Soon she was a tiny figure lost in the crowds, and Ehrin felt a
strange sadness at her turmoil, and at the same time a curious sense of
excitement.
What
light might Havor be able to shed on the stories of aliens from another world?
He
crossed the empty factory floor and found Kahran buffing the cylinder. “Ready?”
“As
ready as it will ever be. Let’s hope that our craftsmanship is sufficient.
How’s Sereth?”
Ehrin
smiled. “She is disturbed by the fact that Cannak wants us arrested for
committing ‘irreligious dialogue’.” He told his friend the gist of her warning.
Kahran
grunted. “Perhaps it would be best to claim we were pissed as zeer.”
“She
also told me that there’s a rumour of alien beings discovered on the western
plains.”
Kahran
looked up. “Has someone found out about Havor?”
Ehrin
reassured him. “These are other aliens, if the rumours are to be believed.” He
clapped Kahran on the back. “We are experiencing mysterious times, my friend. I
only wish that my father could have been around to enjoy them.”
“I’ll
raise a drink to that.” He held the cylinder up before his face. “Let’s deliver
this to Havor and see if it does the trick.”
They
hurried from the foundry and crossed the silent hangar. Ehrin opened the lock
on the freighter’s cargo hold and slipped within, closing the door tight after
Kahran. In the light from his gas-lamp, the elegant, golden interworld ship
glowed like a jewel.
Ehrin
rapped on the hatch, which swung slowly open. Havor stood on the threshold, and
Ehrin was struck anew at the evidence of the creature’s alienness, his
dissimilarity to any living being he had seen before. He tried not to stare at
the Zorl’s naked black face, the parallel lines of oversized white teeth, as
Havor gave his habitual grimace and said, “You have the part? Come, let us test
it.”
Havor
led them along the flank of the ship and opened the panel, then took the
cylinder and inserted it into the housing. He tampered with it for several
minutes, then gave it a look and nodded his satisfaction.