Time Quintet 04-Many Waters (17 page)

“They burn in the sun.”

“They can’t change form.”

“Young. Infants.”

“Almost men, though.”

“They don’t belong here.”

“What to do with them?” Bronze wings dissolved and shrank with a tearing sound as the cockroach lifted its armored wings.

“Do we let them live?” Great garnet wings dimmed the clouds, dropped with a sharp crack, and the red ant’s small body cast a dark shadow in the starlight.

Flicker. Flame. Shadow. In and out in prideful bursts of energy.

 “Ummm,” moaned the nephil who was the cobra. “Maybe we promise them that they will live.”

“Ummm, kkk.” The vulture appeared briefly and clicked its beak. Then dark wings shadowed the stars.  “Power. Put them in our power.”

Yellow wings puffed into sulfur and the flea leapt from the dragon/lizard to the vulture, then raised wings high.  “Power. That’s right.”

“Temptation,” the dragon/lizard nephil suggested.

“Temptation. Good.” And the mosquito droned.

“Lust,” suggested the cobra, and the nephil’s face was whiter than the sand.

“Ummm. Lust,” agreed the vulture. “Kkk. Lust.”

“We’ll sleep tomorrow in the heat of the day.” The reunited Sandy and Dennys sat outside Grandfather Lamech’s tent as the stars wheeled across the sky. The old man had gone in, after having sat outside with them to eat a fresh mess of pottage, and to prepare bowls of fig juice.

Higgaion was curled in the star shade of the tree, his flanks heaving in and out as he slept, occasionally twitching in dreams.

“Noah and Matred have a mammoth called Selah,” Dennys said. “Usually she sleeps by Yalith’s sleeping skins, but sometimes she came into my tent and slept with me.  It was weird being without you.” Dennys wriggled his bare toes in the sand.

“Yeah,” Sandy agreed. “It was weird for me, too. Higgy and Grandfather Lantech have been very good to me.” He wanted to ask about Yalith. But something stayed his tongue. He said, instead, “I love Grandfather Lamech. You will, too “

“He seems okay,” Dennys agreed. “I’m glad Japheth was the first person we saw. Otherwise, I’d suspect everybody of being like those awful people who threw me out of their tent into the town dump.”

“It sounds rough.”

“Well, everybody in Noah’s tenthold was wonderful to me.”

“Dennys.” Sandy was suddenly somber. “Do you remember the story? The story of Noah and the ark?”

Dennys shifted uncomfortably. “The story we got blown into. At first I thought we were in some way-out solar system.”

“It might be easier if we were,” Sandy said. “Grandfather Lamech sent me into town today to trade fruit for lentils. I passed a lot of people. They’re all going to be drowned.”

Dennys looked at the glow of the volcano on the horizon.  “I know. Everybody except Noah and Matred, Shem and Elisheba, Ham and Anah, Japheth and Oholibamah.’

Now Sandy’s voice cracked. “What about Yalith?”

Dennys managed to keep his voice from soaring. “I don’t know. But I don’t think Oholibamah, Elisheba, or Anah are called by name in the story. Matred isn’t, either.” His voice jumped an octave. “Nor Yalith. At least as far as I can remember. I wish we had a Bible.”

“It was a very patriarchal society,” Sandy said. “I do remember that.”

“Meg would call it chauvinistic,” Dennys said. “Who-ever wrote the Bible was a man. Men.”

 “I thought it was supposed to be God. Wasn’t that what we were taught in Sunday school?”

“When we were little maybe. The thing is, the Bible was set down by lots of people over lots of years. Centuries.  It’s supposed to be the Word of God, not written by God.”

“Okay,” Sandy said, “but nobody ever mentioned that there were twins named Sandy and Dennys Murry with Noah and his family.”

“Do you have any idea,” Dennys ventured, “when the rains are supposed to start?”

Sandy shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here and go home. Do you?”

“I thought you might have thought of something to do,” Dennys said.

“I don’t have a clue. You pay more attention than I do when everybody goes on at the dinner table about tessering and red shifts and mitochondria and farandolae and stuff.”

“Mitochondria.” Dennys looked at his twin. “Do you remember when something was wrong with Charles Wallace’s mitochondria, and we thought he was going to die?”

“We went out to the vegetable garden,” Sandy said.

“Because we had to do something.”

“Even though we knew it didn’t have anything to do with helping Charles Wallace get well.”

“But it was something to do.”

They were silent for a dark space. Then Sandy said,

“Well, we can do it again, work in a garden. Grandfather Lamech has this huge vegetable garden—I mean, you’ve never seen such gigantic plants. And weeds. I’ve pulled up a mountain of weeds, wait and see, and I’ve hardly made a dent. And then there are his groves to prune and water. There’s plenty to do. Whether it helps anything or not.”

Under them the ground trembled slightly, but by now they were both so used to the shifting and sliding of the young planet that they hardly noticed. “Well. That’s good.  The garden, I mean. As long as we don’t get sunstroke again.”

“Oh, we work only in the early morning and the evening. Grandfather Lamech is very careful about that.”

“Good, then.”

“Yes, but none of that gets us home. What do we do now?” Sandy was asking himself, rather than his twin.

“I think,” Dennys spoke slowly, “that we don’t do anything. I mean, this is way outside our experience.”

“Outside anybody’s experience,” Sandy added. “I think you’re right. We wait. With our eyes and ears open.” He looked over to where Higgaion was sleeping. The scarab was not in its usual place on Higgaion’s ear. Therefore, he thought, Adnarel must be somewhere else. Doing what?

“We wait,” Adnarel said. “To do anything is to make changes, to cause a paradox.”

“Does not their very being here in itself constitute a paradox?” Alarid, who was sometimes a pelican, asked.

Admael, who had earned Dennys across the desert, said, “They have already made changes. The boy, Dennys, caused Noah to reconcile with his father, when it seemed that nothing would ever make that come about.”

Adnachiel, his wings as sunny as the hide of his giraffe host, said, “Perhaps the boy Sandy played a part.”

Aalbiel, with wings as white as those of a snow goose, asked, “Could they have been sent for this?”

Aanel, tawny as a lion, said softly, “We do not know. Perhaps they are part of the pattern.”

Abdiel, sometimes a golden bat, spoke equally softly.

“There are many things that even the angels in heaven do not know. And we have chosen—“

“Been chosen,” Abasdarhon, whose host was the golden snake, corrected.

“Accepted being chosen,” Akatriel, whose eyes were as round and wise and fierce as an owl’s, corrected further.

“—to stay with the children of humankind,” Abdiel continued. “Therefore, we have relinquished some of our powers and there is much that we do not know.”

Abuzohar, who was sometimes a white leopard, inclined his head, his face luminous as the moon. “As long as the One knows, there is no need for us to know.”

Achsah, with wings and hair the soft grey velvet of his mouse host, nodded. “They are innocent boys, for the children of men. Likable. And they speak the Old Language.”

Adabiel, orange wings vivid as the tiger, agreed. “Good in their hearts. And they brought out Noah’s goodness-Could that be part of the plan?”

Admael said, “We still have no real idea why they are here, or how they are to be returned to wherever it is they come from.”

Adnachiel, sometimes a giraffe, looked up at the stars. “We willingly gave up some of our powers when we chose to stay on this planet.”

“We do not have to stay.” Abdiel’s seraphim wings were as bright a gold as his bat ones. “We are free to leave at any time and to resume our full powers.”

Adnarel threw off light like the sun flashing against the scarab beetle. “It was our free choice. And now—I would not leave while they—the twins—are still here.”

“We may not be able to save them,” Aland warned.

“Then I will stay with them,” Admael said, for a fraction of a second looking more like a white camel than like a seraphim.

Eleven luminous heads slowly nodded in agreement with Admael.

8  Oholibamah, Japheth’s wife

Mahlah and Tiglah were waiting near Grandfather Lamech’s ancient fig tree. Mahfah’s belly was softly rounded.  Tiglah was round by nature, all soft curves and delicate plumpness that had not yet run to softness, as Anah’s was doing.

The twins came from the garden, where they had weeded two long rows of plants which might have been forebears of tomatoes, and pulled off the suckers. Higgaion was in the tent with Grandfather Lamech. The twins did not see Mahlah and Tiglah until the two girls came to meet them.  Tiglah walked slowly toward Sandy. She tossed her head so that her red hair flew about her face. She lowered the heavy fringes of her lashes. “I’m sorry my father and brother didn’t treat you better when you appeared in our tent that time.” She paused, and added virtuously, “They have to be very careful that strange men don’t take advantage of me.” Then she stopped. “Am I speaking to the right one?”

“No,” Dennys said.

Mahlah fluttered her small hands like birds. Her dark hair concealed her swollen belly. “But which one of you was guest in my father’s tent?”

Sandy stepped forward. “My brother Dennys. You’re Yalith’s sister?”

“Yes. Mahlah. But I am Ugiel’s bride and no longer live in the home tent.”

Sandy looked at her, thinking that although Mahlah was beautiful, it was in an obvious way; she had none of the subtle loveliness he associated with Yalith. Tiglah’s flashy beauty was almost an assault. He still didn’t know what to make other. “Tiglah?”

She giggled, so that dimples came and went on either side of her reddened lips. “Don’t you remember me?”

“You were talking to me the other day, before the griffin came.”

“Yes, and the silly griffin interrupted us. I think she was jealous. But she’s not here now. Would you like to come with us?” She turned from Sandy, to include Dennys in the invitation.

“Where?” Dennys asked suspiciously. His first encounter with Tiglah’s family had made him far more cautious than Sandy had cause to be. He did not trust her, nor, indeed, any of the small people who did not come from Noah’s tenthold.

Mahlah, unlike Tiglah, was not a giggler. She smiled.  “We’d like to get to know you better. My father thinks the world of you. So let’s go for a little walk.”

Dennys looked at the sky, which was already beginning to shimmer with heat. “It’s too hot. Thank you, anyhow.”

Tiglah pushed her fingers through her curls, so that they glinted with gold in the sunlight. She, too, looked at the sky. “It’s not going to be really hot until the sun is above the palm trees.” She turned her dimpled smile toward Sandy. “We’d really love to show you around a little. You haven’t seen much of the oasis.”

Sandy stepped forward. He had not enjoyed his brief excursions onto the public path, but if Tiglah and Mahlah were there to show them where to go, it might be fun. It was time to go farther than Grandfather Lamech’s compound and the nearby shops. “Well—“

“You go, if you like.” Dennys was firm. “I nearly died of sunstroke, and I’m keeping out of the sun.”

Sandy looked at his brother, noticing the still pinkly mottled skin. “I’m sorry. My skin’s all healed. I forgot—“

“You go, if you like,” Dennys repeated.

Sandy shook his head. “No. Grandfather Lamech wanted us to bring him some onions for his stew, and we were too busy weeding. We’d better go pull them before the sun gets too high.”

A great whirring of wings shook tne sky above them, and the griffin landed between the two boys and Mahlah and Tiglah.

“Go away, spoilsport.” Tiglah kicked at the griffin, and her green eyes sparked with resentment.

Dennys backed away in fear. The griffin looked to him as fierce as the manticore.

“It’s all right,” Sandy reassured him. “It’s a griffin, and she’s a friend.”

The griffin spread her eagle wings so that the two girls were screened. Opened her bill and squawked something like”0n-yons.”

“Okay, okay,” Sandy said. “We won’t forget.”

The griffin folded her wings. Her lion’s tail swished back and forth. Tiglah walked cautiously around her, and put her small hand on Sandy’s arm- “Later, then? You would like to come for a walk, wouldn’t you?”

Would he? Tiglah made Sandy feel very peculiar. She was both alluring and unsettling. And she was very different from Yalith, of the bronze hair and eyes and luminous smile. He would go anywhere with Yalith. But Tiglah? “I don’t know,” he said cautiously. “Dennys and I have a lot to talk about.”

Mahlah, too, skirted the griffin, asking, “Are you sure you are two separate people? My husband, Ugiel, can take different forms, yet it is always he.”

“We are twins,” Dennys stated. “Aren’t there any twins around here?”

Tiglah moved her fingers slowly up and down Sandy’s arm, and it prickled, so that the freckles he had acquired in the sun seemed to stand up. “Two look-exactly-alikes?  No. Of course, we can tell you apart right now, because your skin”—her fingers caressed Sandy’s forearm—“is strong, and you are getting quite tanned, and you both have freckles across your nose. Whereas his”—she indicated Dennys—“still looks raw and uncooked.”

“But handsome,” Mahlah purred. “We don’t have any men on the oasis who are as tall and like gods as you are.”

The griffin cried again, “On-yons.”

Sandy had already turned in the direction of the vegetable garden when he noticed Dennys looking past the clump of trees to the public path. Yalith and Oholibamah were coming toward them, carrying a large kettle between them.

Mahlah drew her lips up in what was more a grimace than a smile. “Well, sisters dear, are you pursuing the twin giants?”

Oholibamah’s low voice was pleasant. “Good morning.  Matred sent us with a meal- Grandfather Lamech is too old to cook for so many.”