A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1) (15 page)

‘Down the hole with you. I’ll follow. Quickly, now!’

Ashurek lowered himself into the aperture. To his astonishment, he was struck by swimming dizziness and for a few moments was completely disorientated. It was as if the centre of gravity had shifted beneath his feet. The shaft had dropped vertically into the ground but now he was walking along it horizontally. Behind him, Medrian and Estarinel staggered, caught their balance by putting out hands to the wall.

‘What–?’ Estarinel began.

‘Walk,’ said Hranna. ‘Just keep going, fast as you can.’

The old man slid the section of rock back into place and followed them.

They walked for what seemed hours, disoriented and snow-blind from the relentless white curve of the passage. At last Ashurek saw a round pale disc ahead. Not another blank wall, but the tunnel mouth.

First to reach it, he looked out and saw that it appeared to be set in a sheer, vertical plane. White walls rushed away in all directions. He hesitated, stomach sinking.

‘Climb out,’ urged Hranna behind him.

‘Onto what?’

‘Just go. It’s perfectly all right.’

Ashurek began cautiously to lower himself over the lip of the tunnel-mouth, only to be struck again by dizziness, a feeling of the ground rocking beneath his feet. Suddenly he was kneeling on flat ground looking down into a vertical shaft.

He rose, helping Estarinel; but Medrian shook off his dark hand. Gradually they orientated themselves and looked about them.

It was a flat, salt-white landscape of hard rock, but very different from the ash-submerged place they had left. Everywhere stood crystalline formations like snow-covered trees, raising their branches to the white sky in delicate, glittering webs. It was like a forest after a thick fall of snow; ground, trees and sky all sparkling white. It was beautiful, but the endless whiteness was tiring to the eye; there was no escape from it.

The air was still. There seemed not a drop of moisture on the entire Plane. They were all dizzy and breathless from thirst, and Estarinel’s wounds were aching sharply.

Hranna made a quick beckoning gesture with his skeletal hand. ‘Follow me,’ he said, starting to walk. They followed slowly, winding through the crystalline trees in silence.

Presently Estarinel stirred himself to ask, ‘Where are we?’

The old man was ready to talk and to answer questions at last.

‘On the other side of the White Plane, as you call it. It is flat, therefore it has two sides. I believe you use the ancient name Hrannekh Ol, but we also call it Peradnia.’

‘But we don’t understand… Do you know who those men are who captured us? And how do you come to be rescuing us?’

The old man looked thoughtful. ‘Those people, we believe, were the crew of a – what would you call it – a merchant ship that fell through an Entrance Point, about three months ago by Earth reckoning. We measure our time by Earth, of course. There are about twelve of them, living in those caves and tunnels. There were more, but their numbers grow fewer as they prey upon each other.

‘There are other shafts, like the one down which I brought you, connecting the two sides of the Plane. When we first calculated the humans’ arrival, some of my colleagues went through to help them – only to be attacked and all but two murdered. These men are savages with whom it is impossible to make intelligent contact.’ Hranna’s voice shook. ‘We wanted to help them regain Earth but they wouldn’t let us. Since then they have made several forays down the shaft and seized more of my people. And they keep the opening guarded, so we cannot seal it against them. It is, well – difficult to work in such an atmosphere.’

‘How many are there of you?’ asked Ashurek.

‘Three thousand, four hundred and twenty-three,’ the old man answered.

‘And only twelve of them? Why do you not fight them?’

‘We cannot fight. We have never fought, we would not know how. Our bodies are but feeble vehicles for our minds. Our whole existence is devoted to the study of mathematics; we have senses only in order that we may communicate knowledge from one to the other. Our bodies shatter like brittle bones when attacked.

‘You see, we are entirely self-sufficient; we do not take in sustenance, nor do we excrete. We were not born, nor are we supposed to die. We have only the physical strength to exist, not to fight for survival.’ Hranna gave them a thoughtful look, then frowned. He waved a greeting to another small, wizened man who sat against a tree, scratching with a stone on a thin white slate.

At length they saw a dome of filigreed white quartz with an arched entrance; a structure like a cobweb frozen in ice. ‘Here we are,’ said Hranna, ushering them through the doorway. Inside was another of the ancient, pale people, clad in gossamer. ‘Ah, Hranna,’ said the man, ‘so you’ve got them, have you?’

‘Yes, Lenarg – it all went to absolute perfection,’ said Hranna.

‘Naturally.’ The second old man smiled as he left the dome. ‘I’ll go and set up the – er – device.’

‘Do sit down,’ Hranna said, indicating a circular ridge in the floor that served as a bench. They sat gratefully, light-headed and out of breath. ‘Tell me how you came to Hrannekh Ol.’

‘There’s not much to tell,’ said Estarinel. ‘We were sailing across the ocean when a storm blew up and swept us through an Entrance Point. We hadn’t been on the plain of ash long before we were captured. Our ship and our three horses are stranded on the other side.’

‘Never mind that,’ Ashurek said sharply, looking at Hranna with narrowed green eyes. ‘Did I hear you say you could help us regain Earth?’

‘Patience, patience,’ Hranna muttered with a quick movement of his hand. ‘Our calculations are accurate, but they take time.’

‘What calculations?’ Ashurek asked.

‘We are mathematicians – I thought we were well-known on Earth.’

‘Perhaps you are, to people like my brother. He was the one who spent all his time in libraries, not me. Are we to understand that you knew of our arrival?’

‘Of course!’ the small man exclaimed. ‘Look, let me show you.’ He picked up a thin white slate and with a sharp stone hurriedly scratched a series of figures on it. He handed it to Ashurek, who had to hold the slate carefully to the light to discern the faint numerals. They formed a long, complicated equation with many unfamiliar symbols. Estarinel and Medrian looked over his shoulder. Hranna waited excitedly for their reaction.

‘I’m sorry, it means nothing to me,’ said Estarinel.

‘Goodness, it is only a simple one!’ Hranna exclaimed. ‘Oh, oh – forgive my rudeness. You obviously do not appreciate what we do. Once a few basic calculations have been made, with the help of our astrolabes and other devices, it is possible to work out, in pure mathematics, the entire history of the Universe.’

‘Really.’ Medrian blinked flatly.

‘Well, yes.’ Hranna became defensive. ‘Down to the tiniest movement of the smallest particle. The past is easy, for theory is proved in fact, over and over again.’

More warily she asked, ‘What of the future?’

‘If you know where objects, bodies or particles have been, you know their trajectory. You can calculate where they are going. You have seen we predicted the merchant ship’s arrival, and yours, which is how we were able to rescue you. This is our work. We have an ever increasing library of such computations as this.’

‘So you could tell us what will happen to us?’ Ashurek inquired, skepticism masking the pain in his voice.

‘If you wish, yes,’ the little man said hesitantly. ‘There are always random factors, of course…’ He fluttered like a white moth, then selected a number of thin slates from a shelf that circled the dome wall. Each was covered in the faint, scratchy symbols, forming equation after equation. Ashurek suspected that even a skilled Gorethrian mathematician would have been at a loss to interpret them.

‘What does it mean?’ Estarinel asked at last.

‘Ah – what it says,’ answered Hranna, pointing at the slates. Sensing the loss of communication with the three humans, he sighed. ‘I can’t phrase it in any way other than in mathematical terms.’

‘So you cannot actually tell us what will happen?’ Ashurek said acidly.

‘Only if you can understand our physics. I’m sorry.’

‘Thank goodness,’ Medrian said quietly. ‘I did not want to know.’

‘Well, with Earth’s future we have predicted the presence of strong random factors. We have yet to identify them all, so the alternative computations could run into thousands. It is a marvellous project!’

‘I’m sure,’ said Ashurek. ‘Meanwhile, this talk is not helping us. Estarinel is wounded and we are all three weak with thirst. Have you no food or water?’

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Hranna replied slowly and thoughtfully, ‘but as I told you, we need neither food nor water to live. There is little free water on either side of the Plane; most is trapped in the crystalline structures…’

‘I have no wish to threaten you,’ the Gorethrian interrupted, abruptly menacing, ‘but we will die if we stay here. We must return to Earth, very quickly. Do you understand?’

Hranna shrank back, looking dismayed. ‘Er – er, yes, of course. I apologise if I seem a little abstracted. We find it difficult to adjust to non-theoretical matters. Lenarg is already making the calculations that will return you to Earth. I will see how he is doing.’ And he fluttered hurriedly from the cobweb dome into the pale forest beyond.

How long it was before the Peradnians returned, Ashurek was not sure. It may have been one hour, or two. He wandered aimlessly round the dome. His tongue was dry and swollen and he felt ill from lack of water. Estarinel had gone white and sat with closed eyes. He had been losing blood from his shoulder. Medrian’s dark gaze roved around the dome and an unhealthy colour rose in her cheeks, making her look feverish. Ashurek blinked. It was difficult even to keep his eyes open. The air dried them. A few hours in this place were the equivalent of days in a desert. Ashurek sat down, closed his eyes, and tried to think.

Hranna eventually returned, with a train of ancient Peradnians curious to see the humans. The three stirred tiredly as he approached.

‘We have worked with mathematical instruments and located an Exit Point back to Earth. However,’ Hranna went on as they brightened, ‘the Exit Point is unfortunately on the other side. We will direct you to another shaft… one that brings you out into the open, obviously…’

‘Very well,’ said Ashurek. ‘Let us be on our way.’

He began to leave but Hranna caught his arm, tiny beside the tall warrior. ‘Wait – ah – as you will be going that way, you could seal the shaft for us.’

The Peradnians rolled forwards a thick white disc of rock. ‘All you need do is to jam it into the tunnel at the correct point. It is so designed that the humans could never remove it from their side. And they will all be dead in a few weeks, anyway, as calculated by Earth’s…’

‘At the moment they are very much alive,’ said Ashurek. ‘Presumably we will be attacked, as you were.’

‘Yes, I expect you will.’ Hranna rubbed his cheek, frowning. ‘It is the only way we can help. You cannot go back into the cave, for that is a trap, and if you walk miles to the next shaft you may die before you reach it.’

Ashurek glowered at the man, but Estarinel said, ‘Any hope is better than none.’

‘I agree,’ Medrian said with a faint laugh.

Then Hranna handed them a pointed stone attached to strong silky thread. ‘When you reach the other side, suspend this from your hand. Whichever direction it points, follow that path. The stone follows the axis along which the Exit Point is moving, like a magnet in a compass. Let it guide you. Now we will take you to the shaft.’

Again they were led through the strange white forest, this time to the mouth of a smaller shaft. Before they set off down it, Hranna looked sadly at them.

‘People of Earth have been here before. Some have died of dehydration, some have gone back. But it has always been the same: the lack of communication between us has stopped us helping each other. We cannot express what we know except in figures, and they cannot interpret our equations. Once, some Earth mathematicians worked with us to learn our algebra, but I presume that when they died, their work was abandoned. If only you, back on Earth, would initiate that work again!’ His thin hands danced. ‘Perhaps then we would know why the Planes exist – why the Earth exists. Otherwise what is the White Plane but a wafer of crystal stretched across infinity?’

‘Why not come back to Earth with us?’ Estarinel asked, feeling warmth towards the tiny, ancient mathematician.

‘Oh no, far too wet,’ Hranna chuckled. ‘You must go now – I bid you farewell. I’ve so much work to do…’ Even as-they began to thank him, his small, pale figure was retreating through the crystalline trees.

Dizziness struck them again as they entered the shaft, but this time they were ready. They began the long walk back to the other side, Ashurek rolling the disc of stone which, although it came up to his shoulder, was eerily light for its size. Then came Estarinel with the lodestone, then Medrian.

Physically exhausted as they were, the walk took even longer; three or four hours at least. At last they came to a place in the tunnel, in view of the opening, where the disc wedged itself between floor and ceiling and would roll no further.