Heights of the Depths (23 page)

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Authors: Peter David

BOOK: Heights of the Depths
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Seramali said nothing. He no longer looked angry; just a bit saddened.

Akasha was almost nose-to-nose with Seramali. “I see where all this is going, Seramali. I see what you are doing to our people, and what you are going to do. And here’s the hell of it: You’re going to succeed.”

“Am I?”

Slowly he nodded. “Yes. You are. I have seen it. The Zeffers helped me to see it. You are going to succeed, and there is nothing that can be done about it. And I have no desire to see my people put through it. But if I am around, then I will see it. Which would seem to leave us at an impasse. Except you have a solution to that, do you not? The same solution that you had to the problem of Pavan’s parents when they were reluctant to give him over for training. Or did you think I did not know about th—?”

Akasha suddenly jolted, and then he grinned, blood seeping through his lips. He did not even deign to look down at the blade that Seramali had drawn from his belt and driven deep into his chest. A blade capable of penetrating even the formidable hide of the Serabim.

The Keeper chuckled as he began to lose strength in his legs. “You did the only thing…you could…my chief. Very wise…”

“Does nothing stop you from talking?” said Seramali with impatience. “Yes, I did the only thing I could. Are you happy? You should not have spoken of Pavan’s parents, Keeper. You made my decision that much easier.”

Akasha fell backwards onto the cave floor. Lying flat, he still managed to say, “Feel that strongly…about it…do you…?”

Seramali went to the fallen Akasha and placed the dagger in Akasha’s hand. “Grief stricken over the fate of your student, you will have committed suicide. Everyone knows Keepers are high strung. They will accept it.”

“…your…your daughter.”

“She will accept it, too.” He turned to walk away.

“No…your daughter…I told her about Pavan’s parents…”

That turned Seramali right around. “You did what?”

“Are you…to kill her next…? Bit of a problem…isn’t it…how far…are you willing to go, Seramali? How…far…?”

Akasha’s head slumped. He stopped talking, his eyes staring off into a future that only he could see and that everyone else would have to experience. And Seramali was left with the prospect of a conversation with his daughter that he was not looking forward to…
and an action he prayed he would not have to take.

 

 

 

the vastly waters

 

I.

It’s a blur to her,
 
a series of images that skitter across her consciousness, which seem to have happened to someone else.

She is watching herself sink into watery depths, blackness closing in upon her. She is afraid of it but also welcomes it, for in that blackness is a surcease of problems and the beginning of peace. Then something grabs her, holds her, and a mouth that smells raw and foul clamps over hers, breathing in air that is so rank that she nearly vomits into it. Then she is on the surface, but the waters are still insane and furious, and then she does vomit, her spew fountaining from her and landing in the water where it will be of no consequence to anyone. She is knocked around and she feels consciousness slipping from her, and a voice that she does not know shouts into her ear, “I have you! Don’t worry!” And she reflects on the absurdity of not worrying considering the situation in which she finds herself, and then blackness reaches out for her again. This time she does not chase it away, allowing it to envelope her and surrendering to its cool and calming touch.

 

ii.

Jepp became aware of two
 things almost simultaneously.

The first was the gentle rays of the sun upon her face. When one is being hammered by a storm the way she had been, it’s easy to believe that calm skies and sunlight are two things that you will never see again. That was how she had felt when the vessel that she had been on was being buffeted by the vicious weather that had rolled in.

The second was that she was on a very large rock in the middle of nowhere.

She felt its hardness beneath her head and slowly rolled herself over to get a better look at it. It was large and brownish black and incredibly smooth. She rapped on it and it seemed to echo slightly. Not knowing what to make of that, she slowly got to her feet so she could have a better view of where she was.

Her clothes were damp but drying out in the warmth of the air. The sensation gave her a chill, but hopefully nothing that would wind up taking up residence in her lungs and making her ill. She shielded her eyes against the brightness of the day. It was hard to believe that weather could be so vicious one moment and so welcoming the next. The sky was azure, with not a hint of clouds. The Vastly Seas were no longer threatening and vicious, but instead gently lapping against the huge rock that had provided her haven. As for the rock, or the rocky surface, it appeared to comprise the entirety of the island upon which she had found herself. It was quite large, perhaps a mile or so across. It was flat and featureless, crusted with vegetation so slimy that the very thought of eating it was enough to make her considering vomiting again…presuming that she had had anything in her stomach left to evict.

Obviously she had washed up on this island and had crawled to safety without even being aware of it. What she was going to do next, however, was anyone’s guess. There was no fresh water for her to drink, and the plant life, such as it was, was inedible. Nor did there appear to be anywhere in sight for her to swim to that might provide her more sustenance. Plus there was the little matter of her being unable to swim in the first place.

“So what am I supposed to do?” she wondered aloud.

“That is up…to you.”

She let out a startled shriek and jumped and spun all at the same time. As a result, when her feet came down, they went right out from under her and she fell on her ass. She sat there for a moment, feeling confused and not a little ridiculous.

There was a strange being lying perched on the nearby shoreline of the island. His body was large and blubbery, and his thick arms ended with hands that had large folds of skin between the fingers. He seemed to have no neck, his head set down practically atop his shoulders. When he spoke, it was slowly and with what seemed pronounced effort.

“Who are you?! What are you?!”

“I am a Markene. My name is Gorkon. And you are…a Mort. I know that much. Who are you?”

“I am…” She was still confused and flustered, but there was no reason that she could not be polite. “I am Jepp. I am…I am pleased to meet you.”

“We met a bit earlier, actually. You nearly…” he paused and then said with what seemed a bit of chagrin, “vomited into my mouth…”

Her eyes widened and she pointed at him with a quavering finger. “It was you! You were there! Underwater!”

“Yes.”

“You saved me!”

“Yes. I did that.”

“But why?”

“You were in need of saving.”

She certainly couldn’t deny that. Still: “But I don’t understand. You’re one of the Twelve Races. You don’t…your kind doesn’t typically care what happens to my kind.”

“That is true. Although I hear your kind makes excellent pets.”

“I suppose we do. But I—”

“But you what?” He leaned forward, crisscrossing his arms and placing his chin on his fins, looking at her with overlarge eyes.

“I would like my race to have more than that. I would like to be more than that.”

Understanding seemed to dawn in the Markene’s eyes. “I can appreciate that, believe it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“My people, the Markene…were little more than servants to the Merk. Drug addled servants. Pawns to be used…in pathetic and pointless games of power.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It is all right. We…attended to it.”

She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Really. How did you attend to it?”

“We staged a revolution and brought a gigantic wave of water crashing through Venets, annihilating it.”

“Oh. Well…that would do it.”

“Yes.” His voice sounded vacant. “It would. It did.”

“And then…” Jepp was confused. It was becoming a familiar feeling for her. “You…came out here? Why are you here? I mean, the Vastly Waters are…” She tried to come up with a better word and none sprang readily to mind. “…vast. And you just happened to show up here?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what exactly?”

“I saw you. Ruark and I, we saw the ship taking you away. I had never seen a human before, much less one who was in the company of Travelers. And I was just going to watch you sail away. But I—”

“But you what?”

For a long moment he said nothing. Jepp didn’t press him; he spoke in a manner that was slow and methodical, and she had a feeling that it matched the way he thought as well. There was no reason to rush him. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere.

 

iii.

{“She is a human,” says
 a voice from next to him.}

{Gorkon glances over to see Ruark Sydonis floating next to him. Floating is about all Ruark Sydonis can do these days, with his arms and legs having been shattered. Gorkon has fashioned a floation device for him and Ruark seems convinced that his limbs will eventually heal. Gorkon is dubious, but he defers to Ruark’s wisdom on these matters.}

{“A human,” says Gorkon. “I have never seen one.”}

{“You haven’t missed much,” replies Ruark.}

{Gorkon considers the situation. “Do you think,” he says slowly, “that the Travelers will notice that much of Venets is destroyed?”}

{“As they pass it? Perhaps.”}

{“Will they care?”}

{“I very much doubt it,” says Ruark. “Travelers only care about things that you and I cannot begin to understand.”}

{“Such as humans? Why would they care about humans?”}

{Ruark Sydonis considers it for a time, and then says helpfully, “I hear they make excellent pets.”}

{“And is that to be her fate? To be a pet?”}

{“I do not know her fate, Gorkon. Fates are not for such as I to perceive. Only to determine.”}

{“I heard them say something about the Spires. They whispered to each other of the Spires.”}

{“You heard them?”}

{“Yes. They sound like the sighing of currents. It is almost beautiful to listen to. It is also a bit frightening. I am not sure why.”}

{“It could be that the fact that you do not know why is what makes it a bit frightening. Do you know of the Spires?”}

{“Not much of them, no.”}

{“A vast city, far greater than Venets ever was or could hope to be, situated upon a far off island. Buildings so tall you cannot see the top of them. It is said to be where the Overseer dwells.”}

{“The Overseer.” He feels a chill in his spine. “If that is their destination, then I fear it will not go well for the female.”}

{Ruark studies him for a moment. “Of what consequence is it to you what happens to her?”}

{“It is just that…she seems out of place. And distantly sad.”}

{“You have never seen a human being before. You have no idea how one of them appears when they are sad.”}

{“Ruark…do you remember what I was doing when we first met?”}

{“Of course. You were trying to kill yourself. Beach yourself so that eventually you would not be able to breathe. And you were doing so because you felt so disconnected from your own people, so lonely, that you could not see any reason for continuing to live.”}

{“Yes. That is right.”}

{“And your point is?”}

{“My point, Ruark, is that I know sadness when I see it. The race matters not. It is the emotion with which I am the most familiar, because I have lived with it for so long. I lived with it until I could live with it no more, and the only thing that stopped me from destroying myself was you.”}

{“And you believe she is going to try to destroy herself?”}

{“I do not know.”}

{“And once that vessel sails from sight, you will never know.”}

{“That is true.”}

{He continues to watch the vessel as it recedes. Ruark allows more time to pass before he finally says, “That disturbs you. The not knowing. Ever.”}

{“Slightly.”}

{“Perhaps more than slightly. Tell me, Gorkon…how do your people regard you these days. As their liberator? After all, they are no longer dependant upon Klaa. They are no longer under the domination of my kind.”}

{“They are…appreciative.”}

{“Are they?”

{Gorkon looks down. He is unable to look Ruark in the eyes and lie to him. “No. They hate me. They despise me. Now that the initial fury of the revolt is over…”}

{“They need somewhere to put their hate.”}

{“Yes.”}

{“Because they are growing nostalgic for the time not long ago at all where they were able to float in a blissful haze of stupefaction.”}

{“Yes. And…”}

{“And…?”}

{“My mother finally noticed that my father is gone. She asked me what happened to him. I told her he was dead. And now she and my entire family hate me.”}

{“Why would they hate you?”}

{“Because I told them it was my fault.”}

{“Ah. Well…that would do it.”}

{“It certainly did in this case.”}

{“And so now they hate you?”}

{“Well,” Gorkon says, “perhaps ‘hate’ is too mild a word.”}

{“Really? What word would you think better summarizes it?’}

{“They have made it clear that they intend to kill me at some point soon.”}

{Ruark looks at him sadly. “Oh, my dear Gorkon. The situation that I have placed you in…I am so sorry. Perhaps I should never have interfered. Perhaps I should have allowed you to perish at the time and place of your choosing. Look what I have done to you.”}

{But Gorkon shakes his head firmly. “What I have done, Ruark, I have done to myself. There was a great wrong, and thanks to you, I have righted it. Whether my people realize that or not at the moment, eventually they will. Even if I am not alive to see it. And besides…it was a grand adventure.”}

{“And now the only adventure left for you is to be murdered? It hardly seems fair.”}

{“I have learned that very little in life involves fairness, no matter where you look.”}

{“That is true,” Ruark agrees. “But what if where you look leads you to more adventure?”}

{“I do not know what…” Then he realizes what Ruark is saying. “The human. The girl.”}

{“She interests you. She calls to you.”}

{“I would not say that she does. She is, overall, a rather ugly thing.”}

{“True. Rather say that her fate does.”}

{“I suppose it does. But what am I to do about it?”}

{“You could follow her. See where her fate brings her. See if you are a part of it, or at the very least can influence it. She may well be someone in need of help, just as your own people were.”}

{“But she is not one of my people.”}

{“Yes. However, are you still one of your people?”}

{Gorkon gave a soft grunt. “That is a valid point. But then there is the matter of you.”}

{“Me?”}

{“I owe you my life, Ruark. And now you are…broken. I cannot simply abandon you to this…condition.”}

{“You owe me nothing, Gorkon. All I did was point out possibilities. You are not eternally beholden to me for that. You are still young. You have much to accomplish, and I will not be a burden to the possibilities that remain to you. Besides, you said yourself that your life is threatened by your own people. Of what use will you be to me, or to anyone, if you are dead?”}

{“Still…I am not sure…”}

{“You do not have to be sure. That is the advantage of your position right now. If you allow the ship to depart from view, then you will never be sure. You will always wonder, ‘What if I had followed the vessel?’ But if you follow it, and you decide that the aim is misbegotten, or a waste of your time, then you can always turn away and come back here.”}

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