Helix (15 page)

For
the first time, giving way to his initial excitement, Ehrin began to feel
apprehensive.

They
came to the corner of the base block and turned. Perhaps a hundred yards ahead
he made out a shadow in the side of the building. As they approached, the
shadow resolved itself into a long opening, giving access to the first floor of
the ziggurat. Ehrin felt Sereth’s hand tighten in his.

They
arrived at the opening. A groove ran the length of the threshold, to
accommodate a great sliding door twelve feet high, which emerged slightly from
the wall closest to Ehrin. In the face of the door was a window, perhaps the
length of an arm above Ehrin’s head.

They
walked towards the open entrance, the others close behind them, and peered
inside. The gargantuan scale of the outer ziggurat was reproduced on the
inside. Ehrin wondered what manner of giants were responsible for the
manufacture of such a place.

Beside
him Sereth gasped.

Strips
of illumination had activated as they approached the threshold, revealing a
long chamber of sloping brass-coloured walls, of the same metallic substance as
the outer walls. The difference here was that scored across the walls were
lines of what appeared to be text, but in an alphabet unknown to Ehrin. Sereth
let go of his hand and slowly approached the sloping wall, staring in wonder
and reaching out to trace the arcane hieroglyphs with her fingers.

The
others, with Kahran in the lead, passed him and approached the far end of the
chamber. He knew he was probably wrong, but it was hard not to think of this
place as some kind of Church: there was the long aisle, and at the end what
could be construed as an altar—a raised area at the back of which was an oval
plate or portal. He smiled to himself at his lazy assumptions.

Beside
the knot of engineers at the far end of the chamber, the tall, black-clad
figure of Velkor Cannak stood as if in stupefaction, gazing about open-mouthed.
He clutched the small, red-bound Book of Books to his chest and murmured a
silent prayer.

Ehrin
wanted to confront the Elder, to demand from him some explanation of how this
building fitted into Church lore, which had the people of Agstarn as the
enlightened, chosen ones of an omniscient and beneficent God. But something
stopped him. He was loath to call it compassion for the Elder in his time of
mental turmoil—he felt nothing but contempt for Cannak and his beliefs.
Perhaps, though, it was some subconscious form of self-preservation: Cannak was
dangerous, or at least he would be when they returned to Agstarn, and there was
no more dangerous beast than a zealot whose beliefs were under threat.

Sereth
returned to his side.

“Can
you read them?” he asked.

She
shook her head. “Not a word. They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She
looked around her, taking in the vaulted ceiling high above. “What is this
place? It’s vast. Everything is on such a massive scale, as if it were designed
for...”

“For
giants?”

She
just stared at him. At last she said, “The Church teaches that we were created,
alone in the grey, on a platform sufficient unto itself, and given a safe city
surrounded by hostile climes. We were the chosen ones. The others, the tribes
of the plains, were unenlightened, but would see the true path in time when the
way of the Agstarnians was brought to them...” Tears appeared in her eyes.
“That’s what father told us, when my sister and I were small, and sat upon his
lap before the fire at night. I believed him.”

Ehrin
took her hand and squeezed.

There
was movement further along the chamber. Cannak had turned in a rush and swept
towards them. Ehrin at first feared that the Elder was about to attack him,
verbally if not physically—for the look upon the old man’s face was as cold as
the wastes without—but to his relief Cannak hurried past and headed for the
exit.

Sereth
looked into his eyes. “Why did you bait him back in the ship, Ehrin? And why is
Kahran so hostile?”

Ehrin
stroked away the tears that spangled her fur. “I can’t believe in what the
Church teaches, Sereth...” He hesitated, then said, “Years ago, Church
Inquisitors tortured Kahran and my father for their beliefs, or lack of—and
Cannak was responsible. Can you grant Kahran his rancour knowing that?”

Sereth
turned away, staring about her with wide eyes.

Kahran
was approaching them from the far end of the chamber. The old man had a spring
in his step that Ehrin had not seen for years, and when he drew close he could
see a matching vitality in his eyes. Kahran’s expression was one of triumph
barely contained.

The
old man exited the chamber, and Ehrin and Sereth followed. By now darkness had
fallen and the night winds risen. As they stepped outside, Sereth leaned into
him and said, “My father, Ehrin? What shall I tell my father when I return?”

Ehrin
considered the harmless old cleric. “I can appreciate how you feel.” He
shrugged. “Perhaps say nothing. Your father is old. The truth can often be
cruel.”

They
leaned into the wind and made their way along the frontage of the ziggurat,
turning into an even fiercer wind as they rounded the corner and slogged across
the snow towards the swaying sky-ship.

They
were about to board the gondola when a deputation from the geologists
approached. The lead man was Kyrik, who Ehrin had known socially for years.
“Ehrin, we’ve discussed it among ourselves and the opinion is that we might as
well make this our first test site and set up the bore. If we work through the
night, we should have some results by midday tomorrow.”

Ehrin
nodded. “Why not? We’re, what, only fifty miles from where we first planned to
test drill, aren’t we?”

“Something
like. It makes sense, in terms of economy and time, to take the opportunity to
drill.”

Ehrin
touched the geologist’s shoulder. “Good luck. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Sereth
was already climbing aboard. Ehrin joined her. After the flesh-numbing cold of
the plains, the atmosphere of the gondola welcomed them with warmth and the
scent of tisane.

The
gondola was split into three sections. Forward was the control room, behind
which was the corridor which gave on to the small sleeping berths. To the rear
was a lounge approximately the size of the control room, but more luxuriously
appointed: padded sofas formed a U-shape around occasional tables, upon one of
which stood a steaming samovar.

Kahran
was brewing tisane, and to Ehrin’s surprise he saw that Cannak was there too,
clutching a cup in both hands and staring sightlessly through the enfolding
window.

Kahran
was saying, “So where does this leave your theology, Elder?” in a gloating
tone.

Sereth
rolled her eyes and retreated a little way into the corridor. She squeezed
Ehrin’s hand. “I can’t take any more arguments. I’ll see you later, Ehrin.”

They
kissed. “I’ll ensure they don’t come to blows,” he said, and joined the two men
in the lounge.

“We’re
staying here till midday tomorrow,” he said, and relayed the geologist’s
reasoning.

Cannak
turned in the window seat and said, “Is that wise? What if the people who built
that... that monstrosity should return?”

“You
mean the giants?” Kahran said. “The advanced race your Church would deny ever
existed?”

“The
sacred texts make no such denial. They merely state that the people of the
plains are heathen and godless. Such a state does not preclude the
accomplishment of sophisticated technological feats such as we witnessed out
there.”

“You
have an answer for everything,” Kahran murmured.

“Study
of the Book of Books supplies the diligent scholar with the knowledge to refute
the ignorance of disbelievers,” Cannak responded.

Something
lit Kahran’s eyes. “Then how do you explain what we beheld at Sorny and beyond
in ‘65?”

The
men locked gazes, for all the world like a pair of bull zeer in mating season.
Cannak said, “You suffered for your rashness then. You can suffer again. And be
warned, others besides yourself might suffer also.”

Kahran
said, “Have you not even one tiny grain of doubt in your soul, Elder?”

Cannak
drew himself upright. “I have faith. Faith is strength. I know the work of God,
and though I admit that not all things might be clear at times, I know that God
has his purpose which will in time be made obvious to the righteous.”

After
a long silence, during which Kahran stared with ill-concealed loathing at the
Elder, he said, “Rohan Telsa was a fine man, Cannak. He was the finest man I
have ever known. What the Church did can never be forgiven.”

Cannak
stood. “Be careful, Shollay. Be very careful.”

Kahran
stood, too, facing the Elder, then spat upon the carpet of the lounge, turned
on his heel and retreated to his sleeping berth.

Ehrin
stared after him, then turned to the Elder.

Cannak
said, “It would be wise to forget you ever overheard that exchange. I hope you
understand?”

Cannak
swept from the lounge and down the corridor before Ehrin had time to reply.

He
sat alone for perhaps ten minutes, nursing a pot of cooling tisane and
contemplating his thoughts. He recalled Kahran’s forecast, back in Agstarn,
that the expedition would prove to be very interesting, and his later avowal
that murder might be witnessed by the end of the journey. One thing was for
sure, Ehrin thought, and that was that the events of the voyage would have
disturbing repercussions on their return to the capital city.

He
made his way to the sleeping chamber he shared with Sereth, undressed and
climbed in beside her. She embraced him, her nakedness and warmth reassuring.

At
one point during the night, as the wind howled through the hawsers outside, she
whispered into his ear, “Ehrin, even if the Church is wrong... that doesn’t
mean to say that there is no God, does it?”

He
held her tight. “Of course not, Ser,” he reassured, and wondered at his lie.

Before breakfast the
following morning, Kyrik arrived at the
Expeditor
and informed Ehrin and
Kahran that the test drill had proved fruitless. He suggested that they move on
to the next site, two hundred miles to the west, and Ehrin concurred.

When
the geologist had departed, Kahran dragged his photographic apparatus from his
cabin and asked Ehrin, “Any sign of Cannak?”

“He’s
still in his cabin.”

Kahran
folded the legs of his camera and fitted a protective canvas hood over the
lens. “In that case, I’ll get a little photographic evidence of the ziggurat.”

“Be
quick. We’ll be underway in an hour or two.”

Kahran
nodded, hoisted the camera onto his shoulder and elbowed his way through the
door. Within seconds his padded shape was lost in the swirling snowstorm.

Ehrin
moved to the lounge and prepared a breakfast of eggs and flat cakes on the
griddle, then brewed a gallon of tisane in the samovar to see them through the
day.

Five
minutes later Sereth joined him, looking bleary-eyed and sleepy. He often
thought she looked at her most beautiful before she had prepared herself for
the day, elemental and animal-like with her snout still wet before the
application of powder.

“Sleep
well?” He passed her a pot of tisane, which she accepted as she slumped into a
divan.

“I
dreamed of finding a giant’s temple in the wilderness, and a nasty row between
Kahran and the Elder.” She looked up at him and laughed.

“It’s
the freezing frames for me and Kahran when we get back.”

She
winced. “Don’t. That isn’t a bit funny.”

Ehrin
doled out a portion of egg and cake, and they ate while the wind battered the
gondola and the snowstorm reduced visibility beyond the windows to less than
five yards.

Ehrin
was wondering whether to venture outside and fetch Kahran when the hatch burst
open. Ehrin made out a figure in a padded suit and hat. At first he thought it
was Kahran, come to report some amazing discovery. Then the figure leaned into
the cabin and he made out the geologist, Kyrik.

He
had the sudden intimation that something had happened to Kahran, and he felt a
sweep of relief when Kyrik said, “You’d better come, and Sereth also. She might
be able to work out what they’re saying.”

“What
who
are saying?” Ehrin began.

“We
have visitors,” Kyrik said, then turned and hurried back out into the
snowstorm.

Ehrin
exchanged a glance with Sereth. “Stay here. I’ll send someone if it’s safe for
you to come out, okay?”

She
nodded mutely and watched him go.

He
felt his heart begin a laboured pounding as he stepped into the teeth of the
gale. He turned in the approximate direction of the freighter, his breath
stolen suddenly by the ferocious wind. He looked for Kyrik, but there was no
sign of the geologist. Visibility was down to a yard or two, a little further
when the wind let up briefly. In one lull he made out the scarlet envelope of
the freighter, blooming against the grey overcast. Then he saw Kyrik, battling
his way across the snow towards the great dirigible.