Seeker (35 page)

"Message?" said the king.

"Message?" said the High Priest.

***

In the adjacent laboratory, Evor Ortus too heard the shouts from the tanks, but he paid no attention. His hands were shaking as he fastened the straps round Seeker's wrists. He couldn't help himself; he was nervous. So much was at stake.

"There we go," he said. "Nice and snug."

"I don't understand what this is supposed to do," said the boy.

He was shivering. It struck Ortus that the boy was frightened, and he should say something to reassure him.

"It's to make you strong," he said. "Stronger even than the Nomana. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"How will it make me strong?"

"This machine is going to fill you with power. Once I have you joined up, you'll feel the power flow into you. Then you'll be a conqueror! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The boy didn't answer. Ortus reached up for the dangling yoke and drew it down into position over the boy's shoulders.

"All you'll feel will be a tiny prick on the side of your neck."

The Wildman screamed and banged at the overhead bars of the tank, and with him all the other prisoners screamed and banged. They were delirious with the sound of their own fear and anger: all wild men now. The guards on duty struck the grid with sticks and shouted orders, but to no avail. When the High Priest's envoy entered, demanding that the prisoners be silenced, his instructions could barely be heard.

"Stop them!" he shrieked. "Beat them! Crush them!"

The guards unbolted the door in the grid. Two of them lifted the heavy hinged lid so that the others could drop down into the tank and beat the rioters into silence.

This was a mistake.

Morning Star saw every face on the temple terrace staring at her. Cheerful Giver's brow was shining with nervous perspiration. The king was glowering at her with mounting impatience.

Blessing prompted her.

"Remember what you told us," she whispered. "There is one whose heart is dark."

Morning Star knew she must speak.

"I am to bring you a warning, Radiance," she said. "The enemy is nearer than you think."

They all heard her. An electric silence fell.

"The girl is a messenger," said Blessing. "From the Radiant Power."

"Radiance," said Morning Star, lowering her voice to a tiny whisper. "My message is for you alone."

The king's eyes opened wide, and he crouched down, to hear her more clearly.

"Come," he said. "Whisper it to me. But hurry. The sun is setting."

Morning Star approached him. As she did so, she studied his colors, and there at last she found the clue she needed. There, almost hidden beneath the dominant deep yellows and browns, the arrogance and the indifference, was a shade of pale blue that merged as she looked into blue-green, the color of unmet need. All men look to the king for praise. Where is the king to look?

"Radiance," she whispered. "The Great Power loves you, and calls you his son."

"His son!" The king's eyes widened further.

"Radiance!" warned the High Priest. "The sun is setting!"

The king stood up again and saw that the priests and the tribute were now in place on the temple rock. He fixed his gaze on the red orb that was dropping towards the lake horizon.

"Father!" he murmured. "I thank you!"

Turning to Morning Star he said, "We will talk more later, child. You will tell me of this enemy."

Morning Star drew a quiet breath of relief She had survived; this far at least. She looked guiltily towards the tribute, the woman in white who was now about to die in her place. And as she looked, she had a strange sensation. It was as if she knew her.

Who are you?

The tribute turned and looked at her, exactly as if she had heard her silent question. For the first time, Morning Star saw her face, and as she did so, a flash of pure memory broke through into her trembling mind. She had seen that sweet head turn like this before. She had seen that sweet face look down on her before. She had felt before this simple overwhelming sensation that she was loved.

Mama?

The first guard swung himself down into the mass of howling prisoners in the tank and struck out to left and right.

"Get the yellow-haired one!" shouted the second guard. "He's the ringleader!"

The Wildman backed away before him, drawing him deeper into the tank, and the rest of the guards followed. Then with a howl of startling ferocity he sprang forward, seized the guard by the throat, and smashed him to the ground. At once, as if this alone had been the signal they had been waiting for, the other prisoners charged the guards, making up in sheer numbers what they lacked in weaponry.

"Die loud!" yelled the Wildman. "Die fighting!"

"Radiance! We must proceed with the ceremony at once! The sun is setting!"

"Why is the tribute staring at us like that?"

The sun was nearing the surface of the water. The tribute stood motionless, looking back. The priests round her urged her forward, but she would not move.

"Why doesn't she move?" said Cheerful Giver. "She must fall!"

Morning Star knew that it was her eyes and her will alone that held the tribute motionless. She held her gripped in her mind and in her heart. Soundlessly she called to her.

Mama!

Cheerful Giver was filled with a sudden dread. This was his tribute. She was supposed to go willingly to her death. Even the ones that were not willing were made to look as if they accepted their fate, with the help of tranquilizing drugs. There could never be an unseemly struggle on the rock. That stained the purity of the offering in the eyes of the Radiant Power above.

But the tribute would not move.

The High Priest, now thoroughly alarmed, looked from the staring tribute back to the group round the king and saw the expression on the face of the girl in white.

"It's her!" he cried. "She's doing it!"

The king now saw it, too. He shouted to his bodyguard, a giant axer.

"Seize her! Kill her!"

Professor Ortus readied the second needle, which had to be inserted in a vein in Seeker's arm. The boy was very jumpy, and Ortus himself was nervous. He fumbled the insertion.

"Ow!" yelled Seeker. "That hurt!"

"Sit still!"

For his second attempt, he held Seeker's arm steady with one hand while he inserted the needle with the other.

"There!" he said. "All done! How are you feeling? Are you ready for the power?"

"What will it do to me?"

"Make you into a god!"

He crossed to the master controls. As he did so, he heard a stirring from within the canteen. The boy's shout of pain must have woken Blaze. Still, he thought, the door is locked.

"Here we go!" he said. He threw the main switch.

The people in the temple square were starting to panic.

"Fall! Fall!" they shouted.

The priests on the rock pleaded with the tribute.

"Come!" they said. "It's time! Fall into the arms of the Radiant Power! Give us life!"

"Fall! Fall!" shouted the crowd as the sun sank unstoppably to the water.

On the temple terrace the giant axer seized Morning Star in both massive hands and raised her high in the air, breaking her eye contact with the tribute. The tribute gave a shudder and turned to face the setting sun.

"Fall! Fall! Fall!" chanted the people of Radiance, in an agonized, pulsing cry.

The doors from the tanks burst open: roaring, golden, beautiful, the Wildman sprang, his clasped hands outreached in a flying double fist. The blow snapped back the axer's huge head, breaking his neck. He buckled and fell, and Morning Star fell with him. Spikers from the tanks came streaming onto the terrace, howling their crazed rage. Priests and officials, terrified, fled from them towards the broad stairway.

"Call out the axers!" cried the king. "Call out the dogs!"

Seeker was in the grip of the machine. He was jerking in the chair, and his skin was prickling all over, and he could no longer control any of his muscles. He could hear himself uttering a shivery stammering crying sound. He knew he had gone too far, but he had no way now to escape his fate.

Professor Ortus heard the yells of the riot outside. He also heard movement behind the locked door of the canteen.

"Everything's all right!" he called, trying to sound calm.

A voice from within called out.

"What's happening?"

It was a voice Seeker had hardly expected to hear ever again. He was quite unable to reply.

"Stay where you are," called the professor. "Everything's all right."

There came a rattle on the door. Then silence. Then the door shattered before his eyes, and out stepped Blaze, transformed. One glance was enough. He strode to Seeker's side and pulled the needles from his neck and arm. Ortus ran at him, frantic to stop him. Blaze turned, and his eyes locked on to the scientist's eyes. Gone was the blank expressionless look. Ortus stopped dead, frozen by the pure power in those eyes. Blaze raised one hand and extended two fingers towards him. Ortus felt a great weight descend on his shoulders and chest. He sank to his knees. The weight bore down on him, crushing the life from him.

"Please—," he cried, choking, unable to breathe.

Blaze turned back to Seeker, and with rapid movements, he snapped the straps that held Seeker to the chair, and caught him as he crumpled forward.

"Little brother! My little brother!"

He took him in his arms.

"I didn't know! What have you done? I didn't know!"

Seeker felt his brother's arms round him and tried to speak and couldn't. The terror of the machine, the shock of the minutes he'd been in its power, the astonishing appearance from nowhere of his beloved brother, all staggered his mind and scattered his thoughts. But then, looking up through the windows in the roof, he saw the red sky, and he remembered.

"Sunset! They're going to throw her from the rock!"

Blaze lifted up his head and uttered a long high whistling cry.

"Fall! Fall! Fall!" chanted the people of Radiance as the sun sank into the water.

On the emptying terrace there was pandemonium. The court officials were scrambling to escape the revenge of the spikers, even as the great dogs came bounding up the crowded stairways. The tribute was facing the very edge of the rock and seemed about to fall. The priests had left her side, afraid of the spikers. Fearful for their own lives, they were running for the safety of the stairs.

The sun was half gone below the horizon.

"Fall! Fall! Fall!" shrieked the people.

The great dogs burst baying onto the terrace, rending the crazed spikers with their jaws. After them came the axers, swinging their chains. The Wildman stood over Morning Star and prepared to fight. A dog crouched to spring. An axer closed in, his sweeping chain hissing by so close it rattled the bracelets on the Wildman's golden arm. The dog sprang—

A high whistling sound came lancing through the air. Out of nowhere dropped a tall hooded man in a gray tunic. The leaping dog folded in mid-spring. The axer's chain fell to the ground with a clatter of heavy iron links. A second hooded man appeared on the terrace, and a third. The shouts faded on the lips of the escaped spikers. As more and more hooded men threw off their disguises and revealed themselves, the terrified priests and officials scrambling down the stairways came to a stop. The panic in the temple square faded away. A sudden stillness came upon the people of Radiance.

The Nomana had taken control.

Now at last, in utter silence, the sun slipped away and was gone, and no tribute had been offered.

Night had come for the people and city of Radiance. The unthinkable had happened. The day had ended, and no offering had been made to the Radiant Power that gave life to all the world. Therefore the sun would not rise in the morning. The end of the world had begun.

As this realization spread, a terrible lamentation rose up from the temple square. The people began to groan and keen like wounded animals. Halfway down the broad stairway, the king dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The High Priest staggered as if in pain, uttering low guttural cries. Blessing breathed rapidly and felt hot and tore off her headdress and felt hotter still and tore at her gown. Only the king's secretary remained in control of himself He looked round at this city of fools, and thought of the weapon he had caused to be built, and of Blaze who was waiting for him, and he felt only a contemptuous pride. What did he care if their god had failed them? What did he care if a handful of Nomana destroyed their entire city? He possessed the ultimate power. His move was yet to come. When it came, it would be final.

Morning Star rose to her feet and made her way across the terrace towards the rock edge. The lady in white stood still, rimmed by the crimson afterglow in the sky, waiting for her. She was so beautiful and so familiar and so sad.

"Mama?"

Morning Star was timid in the face of what she had wanted for so long. If this was her mother, why didn't she reach out to her and hold her?

"Not Mama," said Mercy. "I lost the right to be your mama long ago."

But it was her mother's own sweet voice, long remembered, long forgotten.

"You'll always be my mother," said Morning Star. And she knelt before her.

"My darling," said Mercy. "What use am I?"

"You're no use, Mama. You're just my mother."

At that, Mercy too sank to her knees, and kissed her child on one cheek, and then on the other, meaning by these kisses to ask her forgiveness, which Morning Star understood and gave. Then at last the mother took the child in her arms.

Seeker came limping and stumbling over the iron walkway above the now-empty tanks, and so out onto the temple terrace. Here he saw the aftermath of the chaos that had struck the city. The last of the escaped spikers were making their way off the terrace, down to the square below. Dogs lay whimpering in the shadows. The mountainous body of an axer half blocked the doorway.

And there stood the Wildman, silver bracelets glinting crimson in the dying light.

"Heya, Seeker!"