Helix (57 page)

The
door thundered shut behind them.

Ehrin
heard footsteps beyond the door, as guards passed the cell with indecipherable
shouts.

He
hung his head and closed his eyes. He had been spared death, this time, but
knew full well that he had been granted only a stay of execution.

Sereth approached the
mansion where her father lived, fearful of the reception that might be in
store. She would have to lie to her father, something she had never done
before. She feared that he might see through her fiction, but told herself that
that was highly unlikely. He would believe that she had suffered concussion and
wandered the ice canals for a week, rather than gone off in some alien
inter-world ship, even if prison officers had told him the latter.

She
took off her skates, pulled open the door and slowly climbed the stairs to the
penthouse suite. She was aware that her physical state would attest to her tale
of concussion and amnesia: she had lost weight, and looked thin and bedraggled.
Mentally, too, she had suffered. Everything she had believed true and good had
been proven to be a lie, and evil. What the Church had done on the homeworld of
the Builders... The thought of Elder Cannak’s deception was enough to make her
sick.

She
had seen the truth, and she knew that everything would be very different from
now on.

She
reached her father’s rooms and tried the door. It was locked. A part of her was
relieved that she would not be forced to face him immediately. She took a key
from her pocket and let herself in, then crossed to the window seat and stared
out at the darkening city.

More
than anything else, she was consumed with guilt. Ehrin had been right all
along. The Church was repressive, not a force for good; and there did exist
beyond the confines of Agstarn a vast if inexplicable series of worlds. And
yet, even though the evidence of her own eyes had told her this, she had
betrayed Ehrin and the humans to Elder Cannak.

She
wanted to tell Ehrin this, to explain her confusion at the time, in a bid to
absolve herself, and yet at the same time she was fearful of his reaction.

She
heard slow footsteps on the stairs beyond the door, and straightened herself
with apprehension.

The
door opened, and the bent, weary figure of Bishop Jaspariot appeared in the
doorway. He was hunched within his padded greatcoat, and the sight of the tiny,
pathetic figure made Sereth want to cry.

He
stopped in his tracks, staring at her with disbelief through his tiny glasses.
“Sereth?” It came out as whisper.

“Father!”
she said, advancing.

He
fell into her arms, and she was amazed and startled at his frailty.

“But
I thought... a guard said you were dead, caught in the crossfire.” He sobbed
and gripped her.

“I...
I was concussed. When I came to my senses, it was night. I didn’t know where I
was. I wandered the canals, confused. For a week I stayed in a workers’
hostel... I couldn’t remember my name, where I lived...”

He
was shaking his head, hardly taking in her words for the fact of her miraculous
survival.

“Thank
God!” he cried. “Truly, He rewards the virtuous.”

She
hugged him again, so that he could not witness her pained expression.

He
pulled away and stroked the fur of her cheek. “I was so fearful, Sereth, my
darling. I feared that you were dead, and worse...”

She
stared at him. “Worse?”

“One
guard said he thought he saw you board the alien’s ship, though he couldn’t be
sure. He did see Ehrin Telsa board, though, along with the alien prisoners.”

She
gripped his hand. “I was spared that fate,” she said. “But I fear for Ehrin—”

“He
was in league with the invaders,” her father interrupted. “He deserves whatever
comes to him.”

“Father,
I know Ehrin is innocent. He was forced against his will,” she heard herself
saying. “He had no say in the matter.”

He
was smiling at her. “Well, we shall soon find out, Sereth.”

“Find
out? How...?” She trailed off, a horrible suspicion forming.

Her
father confirmed it. “Ehrin Telsa was arrested two hours ago. He had returned
to Agstarn, no doubt to further aid the aliens in their invasion.”

“No!
Ehrin wouldn’t...” Her mind raced. She clutched her father’s frail hands. “I
need to see him, father. I must!”

“My
child, Ehrin is not the man you knew. His head has been turned by evil ones.”

She
said, “I want to see him, father. It is a right of all prisoners, is it not, to
receive visitors?”

“Sereth,
in the circumstances, I am sure that Prelate Hykell has Ehrin in the securest
custody. Visitation is out of the question.”

She
seized his shoulders, desperate now. “You must help me. Take me to the
penitentiary. You know where Ehrin is imprisoned. Take me there!”

“Child,
are you out of your mind?”

She
dropped her arms and backed off. “Father, if you refuse me this wish, then...
then I will leave, and this time never return. If you do not take me there,
then you will never see me again.”

His
eyes were moist behind the thick lenses of his glasses. He stared at her
forlornly.

“Father,
I swear...”

“I
can take you to the penitentiary, but it will be of little help to you. They
will not allow you to see Ehrin.”

“Take
me, father!” She had gripped his shoulders again and was shaking him.

She
stopped herself, then almost apologised.

He
said, “You are young and foolish, Sereth.”

She
wanted to tell him that he was old and foolish, that she had seen more than he
might ever conceive possible.

He
relented. “I will take you as far as the penitentiary, but it will be in vain.”

She
almost dragged him from the room. On the way she found her jacket and pulled it
on. At the foot of the stairs she strapped on her skates and opened the door.
After the warmth of her father’s rooms, the cold pounced like a vengeful thing.
The ice canal was in darkness. Overhead, the grey cloudrace obscured the truth.

She
took her father’s hand and tugged him into the canal, and they headed south
towards the penitentiary.

She
had no idea what she might achieve when she arrived there. Perhaps her father
was right, and her mission was futile. But, at least, she would know in her
heart that she had tried to see Ehrin... whatever they might do to him.

She
remembered Kahran, and choked on a sob.

If
she could somehow get word to Ehrin, tell him that she loved him, that she
would do all in her power... She tried to blank from her mind the impossibility
of the situation.

Ahead,
the monolith of the penitentiary loomed before the distant jagged peaks of the
mountains, the prison cold and forbidding as those enclosing ramparts. A few
lights showed in the tiny, slit windows, highlighting the dreary grey façade.

They
came to the gatehouse, a token and futile thing now that the wall beside it was
a pile of rubble, thanks to the ministration of the alien’s golden ship. Two
guards stood on duty before the rubble, shivering in the icy wind.

Her
father showed his pass to the guard in the gatehouse, and the massive timber
gate was duly hauled open to reveal the ice-free cobbled courtyard beyond.

They
unfastened their skates and Sereth took her father’s hand again, pulling him
towards the arched entrance set into the sheer wall of the building. A guard
stood sentry beside the door, something in his stance suggesting increased
vigilance.

Her
father showed his pass again, but the guard barred his entry. “No visitors. A
directive from the Prelate. You might enter, Your Grace, but the girl...”

“But...”
her father began feebly. Then, surprising her, he went on, “The girl is not a
visitor. We have work to do in the records office. Important work, might I
add.” He paused, then added, “If you doubt the word of a bishop, then ask
Prelate Hykell himself.”

The
guard looked doubtful, and finally gave way and stood aside. They hurried past
him, through the timber door and into a long corridor. As they walked, Sereth
took her father’s hand and squeezed.

They
turned down another corridor, towards the west wing. Minutes later they heard
shouts from up ahead, and Sereth’s heart raced. A guard ran past them, followed
by another, then two more, all armed. For a fleeting, hope-filled second,
Sereth fantasised that perhaps Ehrin had managed to escape.

They
heard shouts from another part of the prison. Up ahead, where a window opening
was let into the thick wall, Sereth beheld a curious phenomenon. The corridor
was lighted, as if the glow of a torch was illuminating it from without. She
wondered if the prison were on fire.

Activity
was all around them now, as more guards left their posts and made for the
courtyard.

They
hurried on. Ahead, she made out the collapsed walls and piled rubble created by
the giant alien just one week ago. To reach the cells where Ehrin was imprisoned
they must pass outside again and through another exposed courtyard.

Sereth
halted in her tracks as she realised that the light outside the penitentiary
was not a localised affair.

She
began to run again, her father exclaiming as she pulled him along after her.

They
came to the rubble and hurried around it, and across the courtyard. It was
bathed in a curious light, the like of which she had never seen before. Her
father was frozen in his tracks, muttering frenzied prayers to himself.

Sereth
felt something swell within her chest—fear, but also hope.

She
dragged her staring father through a jagged rent in the inner wall and down a
corridor towards the dungeons.

“Now
where is Ehrin?” she cried at him when they were within the relative gloom of
the dungeons.

Feebly
he gestured to the right, along a narrow corridor.

They
turned, Sereth running. They came to a great timber door. Her father nodded.

The
corridor was empty, free of guards. Sereth flung herself at the timber, crying,
“Ehrin!”

A
second later a disbelieving voice replied, “Sereth? Sereth, is it you?”

“Ehrin,
I’m here!” She battered at the door with tiny fists.

She
turned a beseeching stare upon her father.

He
looked at her, then turned and fled, and Sereth let out an anguished wail.

“Sereth?”
Ehrin cried.

“Ehrin...
I’m here. I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t believe you. I was a fool. I’m so
sorry. Believe me when I say I love you, please believe me, and forgive me.”

“Sereth!”

“I
will do all I can to save you,” she cried, horribly aware that her promise
might be futile.

“Sereth,
what’s happening? The light?”

A
sound from behind her made her heart leap. She turned, expecting to see a
guard.

It
was her father, standing before her, holding out a hand. She stared.

“Take
it, child. I have seen enough to... Take it!”

Hardly
daring to believe her eyes, she reached out and took the key. With useless
fingers she inserted the key into the lock and attempted to turn it. The
mechanism was stiff, ungiving. She cried aloud, expecting to be found out at
any second.

Her
father eased her aside, took the key and turned it in the lock.

The
door swung open. Sereth cried out as she beheld Ehrin, believing that the
Inquisitors had already begun their work.

Ehrin
stared at her, eyes massive. She ran at him, fumbled with the straps holding
him to the arms of the chair. In seconds she had them free and Ehrin was in her
arms.

“Come,
we have no time to lose.”

“What’s
happening?” Ehrin asked as they hurried from the cell.

“I...
I can’t begin to explain,” Sereth said. She was aware that her father was
following them as they fled down the corridor towards the courtyard.

Before
they came to the breach in the wall, her father halted them with a shout.

They
turned. He was staring at them, an indecipherable expression on his ancient face.
Sereth saw in his eyes the death of faith, and at the same time the light of
love for her and all she represented. He removed his greatcoat and held it out
to Ehrin. “Here. Take this. You will need it. Pull the hood over your head, and
you might escape detection.”

“Father!”

“Hurry!
The guards will soon be ordered back to their posts. Now go.”

Ehrin
struggled into the greatcoat and pulled the hood over his head. She took his
hand and headed for the courtyard, coming into the miraculous light. The yard was
thronged with milling guards, all staring in wonder at the sky. Sereth looked
over her shoulder and saw the tiny shape of her father within the corridor,
then she turned and hurried on.