Skeletons (50 page)

"I am . . ." I said nothing.

"No matter. You are who you are. Follow."

He turned and walked away. "If you seek flight, do not waste energy. I know your position. I would merely return. Neither can you kill me."

I did not follow him, but circled around the rock formation he had walked into.

On the far side, in a small, flat rock plain, stood the green-and-red balloon Jack and I had spotted. It stood tethered to a stake in the ground, bobbing languidly a few feet off the ground. Its basket was intricately woven of colored rushes in the form of pictures: suns, a smiling moon, an inscrutable cloud above a lapping sea. These pictures were separated by tiny drawings of the balloon itself, in intricate detail.

"Things you may admire, for they are handiwork which rises through our hands, from God."

Yu
Fon
stood on the top of the rock formation I had seen him disappear into.

I turned and ran toward the tent.

"Flight is a waste of energy!"

I looked back. He was gone from the top of the rock formation.

Breathing heavily, I rushed into the tent, went through our remaining stores, locating the handgun. I carried it outside.

Yu
Fon
waited for me outside the tent. He bowed. "Human—"

I aimed at him, fired the gun. A hollow click sounded.

"I took the liberty," Yu
Fon
said. He held open his palm, revealing the bullets.

Giving a shout, I charged him.

He easily sidestepped me. When I whirled around to face him, he was not where I had seen him go, but on the opposite side, standing before the tent.

"Will you follow now?" he said. "The balloon awaits!"

I shouted a curse, charged him again.

He was not there when I grabbed for him.

"Movement is elusive!" he said. I turned in a circle, not locating him. After a moment I saw him stand on top of the rock formation.

He turned away, began to climb down the far side, toward his balloon. "I will wait!" he said.

I packed quickly, mounted my gear on my back, and moved away from the balloon. Putting a fair mile between myself and my camping spot, I looked back to see the balloon gone from its mooring. I frantically checked the sky, but found no sign of it.

I turned and walked on.

By midday I expected to come across Jack and his mate. But they did not appear. It occurred to me that Yu
Fon
may have done something to them. Suddenly I wanted to see the skeleton again, to choke him to death if need be to make him tell me what he had done to my companions.

That day and night were lonely ones. I set up the tent under a rock overhang, watched the dripping water of the day turn to halfhearted icicles on the lip during night cold. I ate, realizing that my food would soon be gone.

During the night I waited for the howl of wolves, but heard nothing.

The next morning, the ground around my campsite was strewn with Yu
Fon's
pamphlets:

PEOPLE OF HUMANITY! YOUR CAUSE IS LOST! BUT WE WAIT TO GREET YOU WTTH OPEN ARMS! DEATH AND REBIRTH ARE YOUR FUTURE! LOOK TO THE SKIES! Y'OUR SALVATION WILL COME FOR YOU!

I tore the one I held to shreds and threw it down.

"Impolite!" Yu
Fon's
voice said.

I looked to the top of my rock overhang. There he stood, his balloon tethered thirty feet behind him.

"Come! We have wasted enough time on the ground. The skies await!"

He turned toward his balloon.

I stalked the incline of the rock overhang and ran after him.

"What did you do to those wolves!"

He easily avoided my attacks, leaving me breathless.

"I would not worry about wolves," Yu
Fon
said. "Wolves are from God. They provide for themselves, on heaven or earth."

"Did you kill them?" I shouted. Again I tried to grab at him, again felt only air.

When I gave up, he stood a yard to my right, arms folded.

"It is time," he said, and turned again to walk toward his balloon.

I sprinted away from him, packed, moved on.

So it went for four days. During this time I made scant progress, worried about Jack and Ra-see, and ran out of stores. The tent became snagged on a sharp rock, ripped down one side, and became useless. I slept on the ground. By the evening of the fourth night I had eaten the last half can of beans and begun to feel a gnawing in my belly.

Yu
Fon
landed his balloon, eclipsing the moon, a hundred yards away from me. I watched his slim skeletal figure climb from the basket, tether the balloon, climb back in.

"I won't fly with you,” I shouted. I walked in moonlit darkness to get away from him.

The next day I found a stand of berries and some roots similar to turnip. The berries, though, turned out to be inedible. I spent the day doubled over in pain. The cramps did not pass until evening. During my illness I had visions—the balloon dancing in the skies overhead, making circles and ballet movements, Yu
Fon
throwing colors into the sky from a stick, which merged and danced among the scant clouds.

That night, as I sought sleep, I heard Yu
Fon
whisper in my ear, "Come, it is time!"

I opened my eyes. He was already walking back toward his balloon.

I looked at what I had, what I could gain. I had nothing. My food was gone, my shelter gone, my companions gone. I would not last on my own in this unfamiliar territory, with its unfamiliar foods. On the horizon no town or village had appeared. I might wander for days or weeks. Eventually I would go mad.

I stumbled to Yu
Fon's
balloon and looked into the basket.

"You wonder," Yu
Fon
said in the darkness, "if I will kill you."

"Yes."

"You wonder if I will turn you into a creature such as I, because it is in my nature to do so."

"Yes."

He said, "Time will tell."

I climbed into the basket, feeling the softness of the pillows and straw in its bottom. Yu
Fon
released the tether and the balloon rose, kissing the clouds and the soft dark sky. Yu
Fon
began to sing, a soft Chinese melody that made me remember my childhood so long ago in Cambodia, and down I went to soft sleep.

I woke up human.

The light of day was bright. Overhead, I saw the opening in the balloon for hot air to flow in, the metallic gas blower beneath it. Yu
Fon's
skeletal hand reached for the lever.

A blowing hiss of fire stormed up into the balloon. I felt us bump the sky and rise perceptibly.

I sat up. The basket was large, nearly the size of a small room. There were chairs against its perimeter, a small table covered with instruments and rolled charts to one side. Next to it was a black enameled case, covered in yellow pictures of the stars and sickle moons. Next to that was another box. Next to that box were piles of pamphlets. Books were strewn over the pillowed floor.

"You slept well?" Yu
Fon
said.

"Yes."

"Good! ‘The tired mind craves sleep, as the rested mind craves knowledge.' " He smiled slightly. "That was something I said three thousand years ago!"

I felt my stomach growl.

"And so, too," he said, "does the hungry stomach crave food."

He opened the box next to the enameled case. He brought out vegetables and a box of crackers. He distributed them, giving me the lion's share.

After I had eyed the food suspiciously, my hunger overcame my suspicion and I ate.

"Now the stomach, too, is happy!"

I stood, feeling the basket shift slightly. I looked over the side. Below, the earth moved like a quilt, rivers and streams cutting the green, brown, and white land into patches and strips.

"I came from the south, when I was born," Yu
Fon
said. "The province of Qinghai, as it is called now. We had beautiful lakes, not as many in number as Xizang
Zizhaqu
, but more pleasing to the eyes. I was born near a lake, and grew up swimming in it. Later, with my balloons, I learned to swim in the sky."

I looked around at him. "Why haven't you tried to kill me?"

"Kill is not the right word," he said. "I have pondered this long and hard. In my mind I am serene in this knowledge. Turn, which denotes change and not death, is a more correct term."

I snorted. "Kill is the right word."

"Not so," he said. "This we can argue. If we were both human, and I were to strike you, you would go elsewhere, and that would be murder. But if I were to strike you now, you would go nowhere. You would stay here. Only your flesh would drop away. You would wear a new appearance, perhaps, but you would still be here."

"How many have you killed?" I asked. "I read your pamphlet. How many have you hunted down?"

"As I said—"

"Turned, then!" I said, annoyed by his calm tone.

"Ah." He looked at me. "Thousands. But only when they were ready, and asked it of me."

"What!"

"Long ago, in my first life, I resolved to live a life of peace and
tranquillity
. For a time I was a magician. My era, as all eras, was a troubled one. Men sought to gain advantage over other men, and men killed other men for their possessions. This, I resolved, was not correct. I sought a life of contemplation, and so set out from my home province for the north, where I heard men of contemplation lived. I found them in what you now call Mongolia. In my balloon I landed there, and lived among them, and learned to think. In time I set out on my own, not wishing to be among men any longer, and lived in the sky alone, closer to God. Here my thoughts were more serene, and purer.

"Alas, one day my balloon crashed to earth, and I was killed. So ended my days of contemplation!

"But no! Suddenly I found myself on this earth again!

"My only obligation, I resolved, was to once more think purely. So I set out in this new balloon, made in this age, and sought to unlock the mysteries of this new existence."

I snorted. "And what have you found?"

"Much. Not all. I found in myself an innate wish to destroy humans. When I awoke, and pushed myself from the ground, I found myself near a road. On the road walked a human boy with a stick over his shoulder, tied to which was a cloth filled with food. I had an overwhelming compulsion to strike him. I confronted him, and hovered over him, my fist ready to hit. This at first puzzled and troubled me. I had never harbored any wish to harm a thing before. I saw this urge in all of those like myself. I resolved there must be a reason, and to the good. A thing's nature is itself, and its true nature is always for the good.

"But I did not strike the boy. I asked him, instead, if he wished to be struck.

"He cried, `No!' and ran off.

"During those first days and weeks, in the chaos that was around me, I thought long and hard about this wish of mine. All around me others were indulging in it at will. This, I thought, was wrong, though the urge itself must stem from something right.

"Eventually I aligned myself with a warlord of the fifth century B.C. who was triumphant in his area. He took me on as his court magician. He began to ask me for my thoughts. I studied many books, modern and ancient. I imparted my thoughts to him. He deemed me wise. Then he granted me my wish of having a balloon, so to spread my thoughts throughout China.

"Here, then, is what I learned, and what so intrigued my warlord, so that he allowed me to spread my word. For me to be here now I must have come from somewhere else. A place, frankly, I do not remember. This is the case for all of those like me.

"I went to this place when my balloon crashed to earth in the eleventh century B.C. Does it not make sense that to arrive in a place, you must have come from some other place? Obviously, there is a reason for me to be here now. And if it is my nature to want to—"

"Enough," I said, tired of his reasoning. I thought only of
Reesa
, and my infant son, and all the others I had seen slaughtered since the beginning of this madness. Yu
Fon
trying to make sense of it all annoyed and frightened me.

"Perhaps later—"

"I don't want any more of your prattle," I said. "Just as long as you won't kill me, or turn me, while I'm with you."

"To do so without your consent would be sinful!"

“Just don't commit any sins."

I turned back to the view below, losing myself in its beauty, and later, when Yu
Fon
opened his black enameled box, and performed magic for me, and spread colors among the clouds as we drifted past them, as he obviously had when I thought I had been seeing visions, I didn't protest.

Later still, by the light of a sinking orange sun, Yu
Fon
bent to contemplation, reading, I noted with a wry laugh, a book I had read in college,
Moby Dick
. "The eternal struggle between good and evil runs through all ages and cultures," he said, noting my interest.