Helliconia, page 78
‘Very well, if Abath can come too.’
Mantras gazed at him with an expression at once a scowl and a grin. ‘Tell me, Billish boy – you’re really from Pegovin in Hespagorat, aren’t you? They’re great jokers there.’
‘Look.’ He sat down facing the captain. ‘I’m what I say – from another world. Born and brought up there, recently landed in the space-vehicle I described to you between fever fits. I would not lie to you, Krillio, because I owe you too much. I feel I owe you more than life.’
A dismissive gesture. ‘You owe me nothing. People shouldn’t owe others anything. Remember, I was a beggar. Don’t think too much of me.’
‘You’ve worked with devotion and built up a great enterprise. Now you are the friend of a king …’
Filtering a little smoke between pursed lips, Muntras said stonily, ‘That’s what you think, is it?’
‘King JandolAnganol? You are a friend of his, aren’t you?’
‘I have dealings with his majesty, let’s say.’
Billy looked at him with a half-grin. ‘But you don’t like him greatly?’
The Ice Captain shook his head, smoked, and said, ‘Billish, you don’t care much for religion, no more than I. But I must warn you that religion is strong in Campannlat. Take the way his majesty threw your timepiece back at you. He is very superstitious and that’s the king of the land. If you showed that object to the peasants of Osoilima, they would riot if you caught them at the wrong moment. They might make you a saint or they might kill you with pitchforks.’
‘But why?’
‘It’s the irrational. People hate things they don’t understand. One madman can change the world. I tell you this only for your own good. Now. Come on.’ He stood up, sweeping his lecture away and laying a hand on Billy’s shoulder. ‘The girl, the meal, my manager, the Stone. Practicalities.’
What he demanded was done, and soon they were ready for the climb. Muntras discovered that Pellos had never been to the top of the Stone, despite living at the bottom of it for eight years. He was laughed into coming along as escort and marched beside them with a Sibornalese matchlock over one shoulder.
‘Your figures can’t be too bad if you can afford such artillery,’ Muntras said suspiciously. He trusted his managers no more than he trusted the king.
‘Bought to protect your property, Krillio, and every roon of it hard earned. It isn’t as though the pay’s good, even when trade’s good.’
Their way lay along a track that ran back from the wharf to the small town of Osoilima. The mist was less thick here, and the few lights round the central square gave a semblance of cheer. Many people were about, attracted by a cooler breeze that had sprung up with sunset. Stalls selling souvenirs, sweets, or savoury waffles were doing fair business. Pallos pointed out one or two houses where pilgrims lodged which ordered Lordryardry ice regularly. He explained that most of the people wandering about, throwing their money away, were pilgrims. Some came here, drawn by a local tradition, to free slaves, human or phagor, because they had grown to believe it wrong to own another life. ‘Fancy giving away a valuable possession like that!’ he exclaimed, disgusted with the foolishness of his fellow men.
The base of the Osoilima Stone was just by the square – or rather, the town and its square had been built close against the Stone. Closest of all was a hostelry, bearing the name The Freed Slave, where the Ice Captain bought four candles for the party. They went through its garden and began the ascent. Talipots grew by the Stone; they had to push away the stiff leaves in order to climb. Summer lightning flickered round them.
Others were already ascending. Their whispers sounded from above. The steps had been carved in the stone a long while ago. They spiralled round and round the rock, with never a hint of railing for security. The guiding lights of their candles flickered before their faces.
‘I’m too old for this sort of thing,’ Muntras grunted.
But their slow progress led eventually to a level platform, and an arch led them into the top of the rock, where a dome had been hollowed. They could rest their elbows on the parapet and gaze in safety at the spread of mist-shrouded forest all round.
The sounds of the town reached them and the continuous noise of the Takissa. Music was playing somewhere – a double-clouth or, more likely hereabouts, binnaduria, and drums. And all about the forest, where rolls of mist allowed, they could make out dim lights.
‘That’s what they say,’ Abath chirped up. ‘“Not an acre habitable, not an acre uninhabited.”’
‘True pilgrims stay up here all night to watch the dawns,’ Muntras told Billy. ‘In these latitudes, there’s never a day of the year when both suns aren’t visible at some time. Different from where I come from.’
‘On the Avernus, Krillio, people are very scientific,’ said Billy, hugging Abath. ‘We have ways of imitating reality with video, 3D tactiles and so on, just as a portrait imitates a real face. As a result, our generation doubts reality, doubts if it exists. We even doubt if Helliconia is real. I don’t suppose you understand what I mean …’
‘Billish, I’ve travelled most of Campannlat, as a trader and before that as a beggar and pedlar. I’ve even been right far to the west, to a country called Ponipot beyond Randonan and Radado, where the continent ends. Ponipot is perfectly real, even if no one in Osoilima believes in its existence.’
‘Where is this Avernus world of yours then, Billish?’ Abath asked him, impatient with the way the men talked. ‘Is it above us somewhere?’
‘Mm …’ The sky above was fairly clear of cloud. ‘There’s Ipocrene, that bright star. It’s a gas giant. No, Avernus is not risen yet. It is below us somewhere.’
‘Below us!’ the girl gave a smothered laugh. ‘You are mad, Billish. You ought to stick to your story. Below! Is it a sort of fessup?’
‘Where’s this other world, Earth? Can you see that one, Billish?’
‘It’s too far away to see. Besides, Earth doesn’t give out light like a sun.’
‘But Avernus does?’
‘We see Avernus by light reflected from Batalix and Freyr.’
Muntras thought.
‘So why can’t we see Earth by light reflected from Batalix and Freyr?’
‘Well, it’s too far away. It’s difficult to explain. If Helliconia had a moon, it would be easier to explain – but in that case, Helliconian astronomy would be much more advanced than it is. Moons draw men’s eyes to the sky better than suns. Earth reflects the light of its own sun, Sol.’
‘I suppose Sol is too far away to see. My eyes are not what they were anyway.’
Billy shook his head and searched the northeastern sky. ‘It’s somewhere over there – Sol and Earth, and Sol’s other planets. What do you call that long straggly constellation, with all the faint stars at the top?’
Muntras said, ‘In Dimariam, we call that the Night Worm. Bless me, I don’t see it very clear. Round these parts, they call it Wutra’s Worm. Isn’t that right, Grengo?’
‘It’s no good asking me the names of the stars,’ Pallos said, and sniggered as if to say, ‘But show me a gold ten-roon piece and I’ll identify it for you.’
‘Sol is one of the faint stars in Wutra’s Worm, about where its gills are.’
Billy spoke jokingly, being slightly uneasy in the role of lecturer after his years as one of the lectured. As he spoke, the lightning was there again, laying them out momentarily for examination. The pretty girl, her mouth slightly open, staring vaguely where he was pointing. The local manager, bored, gazing into blackness, thumb tucked comfortably into the muzzle of his matchlock. The burly old Ice Captain, flattened hand up to his receding hairline, peering toward infinity with determination written over his countenance.
They were real enough – Billy was becoming used now, since he had been with Muntras and Abathy, to the idea of a real reality, abhorrent though it might have been to his Advisor on the Avernus, caught in an unreal Reality. His nervous system had been jarred into life by new experiences, textures, stinks, colours, sounds. For the first time, he lived fully. Those who looked down on him would consider him in hell; but the freedom moving throughout his frame told him he was in paradise.
The lightning was gone, sunk to nothing, leaving a moment of pitch before the mild night world returned to existence.
Billy wondered, Can I convince them about Avernus, about Earth? But they’ll never convince me about their gods. We inhabit two different thought-umwelts.
And then came a questioning of darker tone. What if Earth was a figment of Avernian imagination, the god Avernus otherwise lacked? The devastating effects of Akhanaba and his battles against sin were apparent everywhere. What evidence was there for Earth’s existence – anything more than that fuzzy patch where Sol glimmered in the Worm to the northeast?
He postponed the uncomfortable question for some future time to listen to what Muntras was saying.
‘If Earth is so far, Billish, how can the people there be watching us?’
‘That’s one of the miracles of science. Communication over very long distances.’
‘Could you write down for me how you do it, when we get to Lordryardry?’
‘Do you mean to say that people out there – real people like us—’ said Abath, ‘could be watching us even now? Seeing us big-like, not down the gullet of a worm?’
‘It’s more than possible, my darling Abath. Your face and your name may already be known to millions of people on Earth – or rather, that is to say will be known when a thousand years have passed, for that’s how long it takes communications to get from Avernus to Earth.’
Unimpressed by figures, she could think of only one thing. Putting her hand to her mouth, she moved her mouth closer to Billy’s ear. ‘You don’t suppose they will see us having a go on the bed, do you?’
Overhearing the remark, Pallos laughed and pinched her bottom. ‘You charge extra for anyone watching, don’t you, girl?’
‘You mind your own scumbing business,’ Billy told him.
Muntras pursed his lips. ‘What possible pleasure can they get, watching us in all our native stupidity?’
‘What distinguishes Helliconia from thousands of other worlds,’ said Billy, returning to something like a dry lecturer’s tone, ‘is the presence here of living organisms.’
As they were digesting his remark, a noise reached them from the mist and the jungle, a prolonged shrilling, distant but clear.
‘Was that an animal?’ asked the girl.
‘I believe it was a long horn blown by phagors,’ said Muntras. ‘Often a danger sign. Are there many free phagors hereabouts, Grengo?’
‘There could be. The freed phagor slaves have learned men’s ways and live quite comfortably in their own jungle settlements, I hear tell,’ said Pallos. ‘They never get very bright in the harneys, though – you can charge them a good high price for broken ice.’
‘They buy ice off you, phagors?’ asked Abath, in surprise. ‘I thought it was only King JandolAnganol’s Phagorian Guard that got treated to ice!’
‘Well, they bring in things to Osoilima to trade – gwing-gwing stone necklaces, skins, and suchlike, so then they’ve the money to pay me for ice. They crunch it straightaway, standing in my store. Disgusting! Like a man drinking liquor.’
Silence descended on them. They stood quiet, peering out at the night, under the limitless vault of stars. To their imaginations, the wilderness seemed almost as limitless, and it was from there that the occasional sound came – once a cry, as if even those rejoicing in newfound freedom suffered. From the stars came only the uninsistent signals of light and, from the great Stone below them, darkness.
‘Well, the phagors won’t worry us,’ said Muntras, curtly, breaking in on their speculations. ‘Billish, over where Sol is, over in that direction somewhere lies the Eastern Range, what people call the High Nktryhk. Very few people visit it. It’s almost inaccessible, and only phagors live there, legend has it. When you have been riding on your Avernus, have you ever seen the High Nktryhk?’
‘Yes, Krillio, often. And we have simulations of it in our recreation centres. The Nktryhk peaks are generally wreathed in cloud, so that we watch through infrared. Its highest plateau – which covers the top of the range like a roof – is over nine miles high, and protrudes into the stratosphere. It is a most impressive sight – awesome, to be true. Nothing lives on the very highest slopes, not even phagors. I wish I had brought a photograph to show you, but such things are heavily discouraged.’
‘Can you explain to me how to make – photogiraffes?’
‘Photographs. I’ll try, when we reach Lordryardry.’
‘Good, let’s go down, then, and never mind hanging about for Akhanaba to appear. Let’s get some food and sleep, and we will be off promptly in the morning, before noon.’
‘Avernus will be up in an hour. It will make a transit of the whole sky in about twenty minutes.’
‘Billish, you’ve been ill. You must be in bed in an hour. Food, then bed – alone. I must be your father on Earth – I mean to say, on Helliconia. Then if your parents watch us, they will be happy.’
‘We don’t really have parents, only clans,’ Billy explained, as they went under the arch and prepared to descend. ‘Extra-uterine birth is practised.’
‘I will much enjoy your drawing me a picture of how you manage that,’ the Ice Captain said.
They spiralled back to the ground, Billy clutching Abathy’s hand.
Downriver, the scenery changed. First one bank, then the other, became the scene of intensive cultivation. The jungles were left behind. They had entered the land of the loess. The Lordryardry Lady slipped into Ottassol almost before its passengers realised, unused as they were to cities which had withdrawn their existence underground.
As Div supervised the unloading of goods onto the quay, Ice Captain Muntras took Billy below decks and into a now empty cabin.
‘You’re feeling well?’
‘Excellent. It can’t last. Where’s Abathy?’
‘Listen to me, Billish, I want you to stay quiet here while I transact a little business in Ottassol. I must see an old friend or two. And I have an important letter to deliver. There are clever Johnnies here, not just country bumpkins. I don’t wish anyone to know of your existence, you understand?’
‘Why’s that?’
Muntras looked him in the eye. ‘Because I’m an old bumpkin myself and I believe your tale.’
Billy smiled with pleasure. ‘Thank you. You have more sense than SartoriIrvrash or the king.’
They shook hands.
The bulk of the Ice Captain seemed almost to fill the little cabin. He leaned forward confidentially. ‘Remember how those two treated you, and do as I say. You stay in this cabin. No one must know of your existence.’
‘While you go ashore and get drunk again. Where’s Abathy?’
A big hand came up in a cautionary gesture. ‘I’m getting old and I want no fuss. I will not get drunk. I will return as soon as possible. I want to get you safe to Lordryardry, where you will be well looked after, you and that magical timepiece of yours. There, you can tell me about the vessel that brought you here, and other inventions. But first I have some business to transact, and that letter to deliver.’
Billy became more anxious. ‘Krillio, where is Abathy?’
‘Don’t make yourself ill again. Abathy has gone. You know she was travelling only as far as Ottassol.’
‘She’s left without saying good-bye? Without a kiss?’
‘Div was jealous, so I hustled her away. I’m sorry. She sent you her love. She’s got a living to make, like everyone else.’
‘A living to make …’ Speech failed him.
Muntras took the opportunity to slip nimbly out of the cabin and lock the door from the outside. He pocketed the key, smiling as he did so.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ he said reassuringly as Billy started to hammer on the door. He climbed the companionway stairs, crossed the deck, and strolled down the gangplank. Across the wharf was a tunnel leading into the loess. A notice above it read LORDRYARDRY ICE TRADING CO. TRANSIT GOODS ONLY.
This was a modest wharf. The main Lordryardry wharf was half a mile farther downstream, where the seagoing ships tied up, and a grander affair entirely. But here few eyes pried, and security was good. Muntras walked down the tunnel and entered a checking office.
Two clerks, alarmed to see the owner arrive, stood up, hiding playing cards under ledgers. The other occupants of the office were Div and Abath.
‘Thank you, Div. Will you take these clerks away and let me have a moment alone with Abathy?’
In his sullen way, Div did as instructed. When the door had closed behind the three men, Muntras locked it and turned to the girl.
‘Sit down, my dear, if you like.’
‘What do you want? The journey’s over – at long last – and I ought to be on my way.’ She looked huffy and at the same time anxious. The sight of the locked door worried her. In a way she had of drawing down her mouth in displeasure, Muntras recognised her mother’s gesture.
‘Don’t be cheeky, young lady. You’ve behaved properly till now, and I’m pleased with you. In case you don’t realise it, Captain Krillio Muntras is a valuable ally for a young slip of a thing like you, old though I am. I’m pleased with you, and I intend to reward you for how amiable you were with me and Billish.’
She relaxed slightly.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that you were making a – a bit of a mystery of it. I mean, I would have liked to have said good-bye to Billish. What is wrong in his harneys?’
As she was talking, he was removing some silver pieces from his body belt. He held them out to her, smiling. Abath came closer and, as she reached out to take the money, he grasped her wrist tightly with his other hand. She gave a cry of pain.
