Shikasta (11 page)

They did not reply. They were awed.

When I pressed them David said that I had knowledge of something called Canopus.

Sais? Perhaps it would be better with her?

I made a trial. I waited until we bad gone up one range of foothills and down into a pleasant valley full of trickling streams and bright plants, and I asked them again if they had understood what had happened with the Giants.

David had that look on him which was familiar by now, a sullenness, as if he were being asked for too much. Then he turned his eyes away and pretended to be watching a bird on a branch.

Sais was looking at me attentively.

‘What do you know of Canopus?' I asked.

She said that Canopus was an angry man, and he did not want anyone to dance where there were stones. He did not want hunting bands to kill more animals than they needed for meat. He did not want …

Well, she got through it, and I decided to concentrate on her. As we walked, I drilled her and I drilled her, and David her father ambled on, sometimes singing to amuse himself, for we bored him in our intensity, or sometimes listening, and
chiming in with a phrase or two: ‘Canopus doesn't want …'

And so we went on, day after day, wandering on among the foothills and valleys of the Great Mountains, until I felt the presence of Shammat growing stronger, and knew I must make these two go away from me.

I made a solemn and fearful thing of the occasion. They were to undertake a task of the utmost importance – for me, but above all, for Canopus. They were to go from place to place over Shikasta, everywhere there were settlements, and they were to repeat everything I had said. Sais was to be the spokesman, but David was to be her protector. And I gave her the Signature, saying that they must regard this as more important than – but what? Life? They did not have that conception: the thought of death as an ever-present threat was not in them. This came from Canopus, I said. It was the very substance and being of Canopus and must be guarded at all times, even if they were to lose their lives doing it. Thus I held Death before them, using it to create in these creatures a sorrow and a vigilance where there had been none.

Sais put the Signature reverently into her belt and kept her hand there on it, as she stood in front of me, her eyes on my face, listening.

When they reached a settlement, I said, she must first of all speak of Canopus, and if the word was enough to revive old memories and associations, and if her hearers could listen because of that word alone, then she could give her message and go. Only if she could get no one to listen, or if it seemed that she and her father might be harmed, then she might show the Signature. And when they had been everywhere, and spoken with everyone, even hunting bands they met, or solitary farmers or fishermen in the forests or by rivers, then they must bring the Signature back to me.

And then I spoke to her carefully and slowly about the concept of a task, something which had to be done – for I was afraid that this might have lapsed from her mind altogether. This journey of hers, I said, the act of making it, and carrying the Signature and guarding it, would develop her, would bring out in her something that was buried and clouded over.
And when I left Shikasta, I said – telling them for the first time that I was going to leave – she would be responsible for keeping the Laws, and for passing them on. I saw panic in both of them, at the idea that I would be leaving them, but I said that they would be without me now for months, longer, and would learn they could maintain themselves and the Laws without me. We separated there, and I watched them go off, and my will went with her: You can do it, you can, you can, I was whispering, then saying, then shouting, as they went out of sight and hearing among the enormous trees of that wonderful forest. I would not see them for at least a Shikastan journey around its sun.

And now for the Shammat transmitter.

If I have ever been in a paradise, it was there. Neither Natives nor Giants had ever lived in that region. The forests were as they had grown, and the trees were some of them thousands of years old. There were flowers everywhere, and little streams. And the birds and animals did not know they should be afraid of this new animal, and came wandering up to sniff me, and they lay down by me, for company. That night I lay by the bank of a stream, with animals coming down to drink, and the worst I feared was that some great deer might tread on me in the dark. Tigers, lions did not know I was prey. Herds of elephants stretched out their trunks to me and then went on.

My lingering there, taking in the sane breath of the trees, and communing with the animals was for a purpose. I was now not armed with the Signature, and I had to confront the power of Shammat.

But now I did not know how to go about finding the transmitter. The sense of it seemed to come from everywhere. High above me, stretching up into the bluest sky I can remember, was the peak I had stood on and looked down into the glade where the glittering column was. Had I then to make the wearisome climb back up there? I could not bring myself to do it, from which I knew that I was badly affected already, and I lay down to rest under a great tree that had white flowers on it, and shed an invigorating scent. When I
woke, a shaggy creature was bending over me. He was the size of a Native, but heavily furred, and I understood at once that he was the descendant of a Native who had strayed away long ago from his fellows and had not developed with the others. He was not at all hostile, but curious, and seemed to smile, and his quick brown eyes had something like consciousness in them. He brought me fruit, and we ate it together, and after a while we were able to communicate. He had the beginnings of speech in him, a good deal more than grunts and barks. Some of his gestures and his facial grimaces were the same as the Natives', and half through sounds, half through grimaces and signs, I was able to tell him that I was looking for a thing that was new to the Great Mountains, that did not belong. Already he seemed to understand, and when I said this was a bad thing, wicked, he showed fear, but overcame it, and lifted me up solicitously from where I was sitting – for his being stronger and larger than I seemed to him reason for his protecting and assisting me always – and we set off together.

I was farther from the thing than I had thought. We went up, up, always up. We reached the snow line on some peaks, and crossed these and went down again, leaving the snow line behind. I was cold, but he was not, with his heavy fell of hair. He was concerned, and made little shelters of boughs, and at night lay down close to me so that his body would warm me. And he brought me fruit and nuts, and then leaves, but saw I could not eat these, and we had little feasts together.

But I was feeling deathly ill, and wondered if I would be able to finish my task. And he, too, was beginning to feel sick and trembling. He did not want me to go on. But I told him I had to, and that he should wait for me here. He persisted with me, for a little while. Then he became fearful, and moved in a terrified way through the trees, which, I saw, had begun to be broken and damaged. Rocks had been flung about, for no reason, trees had been cut and left lying, and above all, there was a horrible smell. We kept stumbling among the bones of animals, and there were half-decayed carcasses everywhere, and birds that had been killed and left, and all this killing and
smashing had been for the sake of it. Oh, yes, this was Shammat all right!

And now I ordered my friend to stay where he was and wait for me. He did not like it, and he reached out after me with his furry hands, wanting to hold me back, but I turned so that I could not see him, and be tempted, and went on.

I soon came to a high ridge. Below was a valley, and there were great peaks all around that glittered and shone with snow. The sensation of Shammat was very strong now.

Everything in the valley was broken and spoiled. I knew that this was the valley I had looked down into from above, but could not now see the column anywhere. Yet it
was
here, I could feel it. Waves and pulses of Shammat came out at me and made me reel, but I held on to a young tree that had been half cut through at its base so that it had fallen, and lay forward at my height, making a sort of handhold. I looked and looked but I simply could not see the column I knew was there. Yet the centre of the valley where it had been was not two hundred paces ahead. And still the pulses came out, throbbing, deadly, sickening me. I sent my thoughts to Canopus in a plea for help. Help me, help me, I cried silently, this is the most terrible danger I am in, danger far too strong for me – and I kept my thoughts steady, like a bridge, and soon did feel a little trickle of help coming from there. And, as I strengthened, I did see it – a glimpse only – I saw the column. There was a jet, or narrow fountain there, sometimes visible, and then not, but coming in sight again. It was as if the air itself had thickened and become a very fine and subtle liquid, a crystalline water, jetting up and falling back on itself. But now I recognized it, and I felt that I would have done so before, if the idea had not been so far from my mind. I knew this substance! I summoned every kind of strength I could and walked forward to where this glittering column was, was not – and was again.

A few paces from it I stopped, for I could not go nearer: it held me away from it.

This was a substance recently invented, or discovered, on Canopus, Effluon 3, and that was why I had not expected to
find it here. And no, it was not possible for Puttiora to have made it, for their technology was so far behind ours. And Shammat certainly could not. And so they must have stolen it from Canopus.

Effluon 3 had the property of drawing in and sending out qualities as needed – as programmed. It was the most sensitive and yet the strongest of conductors, needing no machinery to set it up, for it came into existence through the skilled use of concentrations of the mind. What Shammat, or Puttiora, had had to steal from us was not a thing, but a skill. This was too much for me to puzzle out now, feeling as I did, on the edge of losing consciousness, and besides there was a more urgent question. Effluon 3, unlike Effluons 1 and 2, did not last for long: it was a booster, no more.

From above I had seen a metal column, a thing of strength and durability, because I had been expecting something of the sort. But really it was a device which by its very nature soon would not be here at all. And yet it was hardly likely that Shammat would go to all this trouble – inviting reprisals from us, from Sirius (and possibly even from Puttiora, if this was, as it might well be, an act of defiance) – for some short-term gain.

Yet I could not be mistaken. It was a colleague on Canopus who had first thought of this device, and I had seen these evanescent columns of thickening air in all the different stages of their development. This could not be anything other than Effluon 3 – and it would not be here in a year's time.

I realized that I had slipped to my knees, and was swaying there a few paces from the horrible thing – which of course could be health-giving and good-making, in other places and times – but my mind kept going dark, it kept filling with swaying grey waves, a painful shrilling attacked the inside of my brain and I could feel blood running down my neck from my afflicted ears. The snowy peaks, the sunny slopes of the valley, the smashed and splintered trees, the half-visible jet of glistening substance, all swayed and went, and I fell into a coma.

I was not there long and certainly would have died if not for
my new friend who had been watching from a ridge above, holding on to a tree for support, in fear for his sanity, because his mind, like mine, was badly attacked. He saw me swaying on my feet, then on my knees, and then lying prone. He crept down from the ridge, forcing himself forward, until he was able to reach for my ankles. He turned me over on my back, so that my face might not be cut, and he dragged me away from the place and then lifted and carried me. When I came to, on the other side of the ridge, he was lying unconscious beside me. Now it was my turn to help him, by rubbing his furry hands and his shoulders, with all my strength, but he was such a big creature it was hard to believe these small ministrations could be enough to start life flowing again. As soon as he was himself, and we were both able to stand, we supported each other away and up into the mountains, to get away from the emanations we could both feel. He had a warm cave, heaped with dry leaves and larders of dried fruits and nuts. He knew about fire, too, and soon we were warmed and strong.

But while I had been unconscious, I had had a dream or vision, and I knew now the secret of the Shammat column. I saw the old Rohanda glowing and lovely, emitting its harmonies, rather as one does in the Planets-to-Scale Room. Between it and Canopus swung the silvery cord of our love. But over it fell a shadow, and this was a hideous face, pockmarked and pallid, with staring glaucous eyes. Hands like mouths went out to grasp and grab and at their touch the planet shivered and its note changed. The hands tore out pieces of the planet, and crammed the mouth which sucked and gobbled and never had enough. Then this eating thing faded into the half-visible jet of the transmitter, which drew off the goodness and the strength, and then, as this column in its turn dissolved, I leaned forward in my dream, frantic to learn what it all meant, could mean … I saw that the inhabitants of Shikasta had changed, had become of the same nature as the hungry jetting column: Shammat had fixed itself into the nature of the Shikastan breed, and it was they who were now the transmitter, feeding Shammat.

This was the dream and now I understood why Shammat needed its transmitter there only for a short time.

I stayed with my friend for some days, getting my strength back. I understood by now a good deal of what he knew and was trying to tell me. Trembling and fearful, he told me that a great Thing had come down from the sky, and set itself on the slopes of that valley, and then horrible creatures had come – and he could not speak of them without shaking and hiding his face as if from the memory – and killed everything and broken everything. They had lit fires and let them go out of control to rage over the mountain slopes, destroying and killing. They had slaughtered for pleasure. They had caught and tortured animals … He sat by me, this poor creature, whimpering a little, and tears ran down over the fur of his big cheeks, as he stared into the flames of our fire, remembering.