Ice Trilogy (94 page)

“You must hold them in the Circle,” Tse whispered. “None of
ours
can do this, because each must be in his place. This will be your Great Assistance to the Brotherhood.”

“We’ll do everything!” Olga’s lips whispered.

“We will help!” Bjorn whispered, tenderly holding Khozheti on his chest.

Tse turned and vanished into the crowd, each searching for the right place. Although no one had any numbers or personal places, in the Last Circle each stood wherever his bare feet took him. Across nine bridges from nine ships arriving from nine ports of the world, Brothers and Sisters of the Light hurried to the Circle. The crowd of naked bodies swelled, spreading out around the Circle. More and more brothers and sisters took their places. Each one who stood on a lamp was instantly illuminated by its dim bluish light. More and more of these glowing figures appeared in the dark of the Circle. And the Great Circle gradually took shape.

Bjorn and Olga moved toward the Circle, holding the heavily breathing infants to their chests. The honor of the Great Assistance had fallen to them. They understood this with each cell of their bodies. They had to help the Brotherhood, support the tiniest brothers in the Great Circle, not let them leave life until the Circle began to speak in the language of the Light. With the greatest caution, Bjorn and Olga moved among the sea of undressed bodies. The warm infants snuffled, breathing with difficulty in their arms. The Circle was being built.

Under the southern night sky faint stars and a slim sickle moon appeared; the glowing, naked figures arose and united, assuming the shape, forming the Great Last Circle of the Brotherhood. The old sat down or kneeled, stretching their trembling arms to those standing nearby. The young and strong immediately held their hands, giving them strength and hope. Naked young children stood, illuminated by the bluish light, stretching their slim hands to the adults standing nearby. Khram was placed between Uf and Shua; Gorn between Stam and Atrii. The hands of the Mighty took the emaciated, flaccid skin of the hands of those who had once seen the entire Brotherhood and helped to gather it together. Strong, gray-bearded Odo squeezed the hand of five-year-old Samsp and Fow, wise Stsefog held twelve-year-old Bti and eighty-year-old Shma, thundering Lavu took the hands of the twins Ak and Skeye, Merog stood next to Obu, Bork with Rim, Mokho with Ural, Diar with Irei and Rom, Mir with Kharo and Ip, Eko with Ar.

Bjorn and Olga walked around the Circle carefully, avoiding the sitting and standing.

“He’s so little and defenseless — his heart beats in such a fragile, wounded chest, his breathing is so heav
y...
I’ve got to carry him, carry him to his plac
e...
warm him against my chest with my warmt
h...
defend him with my breath.” The words throbbed in Olga’s head.

“Help, help everyone with anything I ca
n...
be peaceful, my tiny little brothe
r...
I will help yo
u...
my body, my heat, my will shall help you. I’ll hold you and protect yo
u...
I’m strong, I’ll be able t
o...
my blood, my muscles, my bones will serve as a support, lean on the
m...
lean on the
m..
.” Thoughts flared in Bjorn’s brain.

They walked and walked around the Circle.

And suddenly in front of them hands rose up: This way! They were being called. Bjorn and Olga went. Sister Tse stood near two empty spaces. Nearby in the Circle stood Ev and Aub. The three of them had kept places for Bjorn and Olga.

“Stand with us,” whispered Tse.

She trembled slightly.

Bjorn took his place on the left side of Tse, Olga on the right. The bluish light shone from below on Bjorn’s and Olga’s naked bodies. They froze in place, holding the infants.

The words “good and peacefu
l...
right and inevitabl
e...
true and irreversible” were pounding in Olga’s temples.

“Help and defen
d...
carry out and withstan
d...
begin and complete” pounded in Bjorn’s temples.

The Circle was gathering. The naked, semi-illuminated crowd was dispersing, disappearing and being absorbed by the Circle. The harmonious, perfect Circle swallowed the chaotic crowd. The chaos of searching bodies was replaced by the calm of places found: the figures lit with blue stood still, becoming immobile. Fewer and fewer searchers remained.

Bjorn and Olga stood in their places, holding the smallest to their chests and staring in a trance at the bluish Circle that extended far out on the island, stretching to the night horizon in a scarcely discernable blue thread and smoothly returning, standing next to them again in the immobile figures of brothers and sisters.

Time seemed to be compressed: each moment could become the last.

There were no more searchers near them. On the right everything was smooth and clean. It was only on the left that a few lone bodies ran about, searching for their place. But then everyone on the left settled down as well, distributed themselves, and calmed down. Some people’s spines sparkled in the distance; shadows flickered on the marble. And everything grew quiet, motionless.

Bjorn and Olga stayed completely still.

Terribly
long minutes passe
d...

Everything grew COMPLETELY quiet.

The Circle closed.

Absolute silence hung over the island. Even the tide couldn’t be heard here. The warm night breeze died down.

Bjorn and Olga were still. Their bodies seemed to have turned to stone in the bluish light. They stopped breathing. For they
heard
the Earth. It stopped in anticipation. The Circle had gathered. The Earth lay on all sides of the Circle. The stars shone over the Circle.

Everything was ready.

And suddenly Sister Tse’s broken whisper sounded.

“Turn them. Heart to the cente
r...
of the Circl
e..
.”

Bjorn and Olga shuddered and came to. They understood what was wanted of them. In the Circle everyone stood and sat facing the center. Only the two tiny ones slept, pressing their faces to Bjorn and Olga, turning away from the Circle. Olga and Bjorn gently turned them, holding the infants’ delicate backs to their chests.

And suddenly arms stretched out, from the left and the right. But not to hold hands with Bjorn and Olga. The hands of Tse, Ev, and Aub carefully held the tiny fingers of the infants. Bjorn’s and Olga’s hands were needed to hold the tiny ones.

The Great Last Circle was ready.

And an invisible, powerful, irreversible wave coursed along it: 23,000 hearts, which had been restraining, resigning themselves all these last days and nights, let themselves
go
.

And the Great Last Circle began to speak.

And 23,000 began to speak for the last time.

Bjorn and Olga froze again. A rapturous terror embraced them. They felt that the Circle
had begun to speak
.

The hearts of Khram and Gorn, Uf and Odo, Shua and Efep, Stam and Atrii
spoke.
For the last time the hearts of Ak, Dke, Bork, Rim, Mokho, Ural, Ikos, and Ar
spoke
. And the tiny, entirely inexperienced hearts of Khozheti and Moohn also
spoke
. Their little bodies quivered in the hands of Bjorn and Olga as the invisible wave passed through them.

And the Circle filled with Words of the Light.

And the secret Words flowed through the Circle.

And the Words passed their judgment.

And they corrected the Great Mistake of the Light.

And the brothers and sisters
spoke
in the language of the Light.

And 23 times they
spoke
.

And the last, 23rd Word was
uttered
.

And the Earth shuddered.

The light
blinded Olga.

She squinted. And opened her eyes again: the rising sun shone on the horizon.

Olga lifted her head with great difficulty: she was lying on her back. She stirred. Each movement — hard, excruciating, as though after long years of hard labor. Her head felt heavy and empty insid
e...
she pressed her palms against the cool stone. Squinting from the sun in her eyes, she began to rise. Suddenly she froze: on her chest lay an infant. He was dead. Olga stared at him, confused. The infant lay between her breasts. The rising sun illuminated his small, blue body. On his tiny chest was a dark spot of dried blood and a large bruise. Olga looked at the infant. He was cold. And recalled a wax doll. On the infant’s head were thin, fair hairs. The morning breeze stirred it.

Olga tore her gaze away from the dead child and looked around. She lay naked on white marble that stretched all the way to the horizon of the rising sun. And close b
y...
lay the Brothers and Sisters of the Light. They lay flat on their backs, motionless.

Olga took the child off her chest and placed it on the marble. Moving was incredibly hard; her entire body hurt. She rose up on her knees, braced her legs, and stood up.

The entire huge Circle in which the Brotherhood had stood during the night now lay on the marble. Fair-haired men and women lay flat on their backs, their arms stretched out at their sides. The row moved smoothly along a parabola into the distance, toward the horizon of the rising sun, and, describing an enormous circle, returned again to Olga. The first in this circle of bodies was a young man and a middle-aged woman with short reddish hair. The very one who had directed them yesterday, told them where to stand and what to d
o...
now she lay in motionless repose on the marble. The woman’s mouth was open; her face was frozen in a convulsion of suffering; her eyes were half open. Swaying, Olga leaned over and took the woman’s hand. Her hand was cold. Olga placed her fingers on the woman’s neck. Her fingers touched lifeless, cool flesh. The woman was dead. Her half-open eyes stared at the clear blue sky.

Olga turned her gaze to the right. There lay a young man. She recognized him: Michael Laird. The very one who had met them in Guangzhou, who had spoken about the Brotherhood, who had given them drugged sake to drink. The one who had met them at the elevator at the top of the skyscraper.

Now he lay naked on the marble, his arms flung out. His dark-blue eyes were half open. Olga touched Laird’s hand: it was cold, lifeless. The expression on his face was pitiful.

Olga straightened up with a moan. She took one step, then another, then a third.

Next to Laird lay a stout blond woman. Her fingers were squeezing Laird’s hand. Olga walked over, touched her next: dead. The woman’s other hand held the hand of an old man. His head was arched back, his sharp Adam’s apple stuck out under his flaccid skin, his toothless mouth was slightly open, his faded blue eyes stared tensely at the sky. The old man was also dead. And his neighbor, a teenage girl, was also dead and also looked at the blue sky.

Stepping back and swaying, Olga moved along the Circle.

All the brothers and sisters lay on their backs, arms spread out on both their sides, most still squeezing the hand of their neighbor.

Olga walked over and touched their bodies. Her fingers found only dead, cooling flesh. After a few dozen steps, Olga stopped. And she understood that in this enormous circle, no one was alive.

Her memory finally returned: Being shot with a tranquilizer, the ship, the brothers, the exodus, the naked crowd, the rapture and the spell, the anticipation of a great miracle, the blue circle, the infant on her chest, Bjorn.

Bjorn!

She looked around. The dead lay all around her. Olga opened her mouth, moved her dry, mute tongue. Her tongue could barely move.

“
B...b...
jorn,” she said with the very greatest difficulty, and went back to her place in the circle.

It was immediately recognizable — a gap in the even row of corpses, the only violation of order. Bjorn lay next to the same red-headed woman: large, naked, with long, strong legs. His left hand was raised up, his right covered the small body of the dead child who rested on his chest. Bjorn’s eyes were closed. But the blue eyes of the infant were staring up, the tiny mouth was half open in a questioning look.

“Yo
u...
o
u..
.” Olga kneeled down and crawled over to Bjorn, taking his hand in hers.

His hand was cool.

“Yo
u...
o
u...
o
u..
.” she said in a wheezy stutter. “Yo
u...
o
u...
ou, yo
u..
.”

He lay immobile, like a throne for the dead infant who looked questioningly at the sky.

“It-i-i-i-t-t-s,” Olga whispered. “Yo
u...
o
u...
o
u...
o
u..
.”

With a limp, unwilling hand she beat him on the shoulder.

The Swede didn’t move.

“Yo
u..
.”

Bjorn continued to lie there motionless.

Sniffling and shaking, she lifted his eyelid. The familiar blue eye lay under it. And that eye jerked. The eyelid slipped from under the finger and closed. Opened. Bjorn blinked.

Moaning weakly, Olga embraced him. But something cold hindered the embrace. She had a difficult time pushing the corpse of the child from under Bjorn’s arm. The hard little body fell helplessly facedown on the marble, hitting its lifeless little head.

Olga wheezed and shook on Bjorn’s awakening chest, touching his body with weak hands. He moved, moaned, and stretched his legs. Finally he saw her. His dried lips tried to open, in an attempt to say something. But all that came out from his lips was a weak hiss.

“K
h...h...h...
a?” he whispered, and tried to lift himself.

But Olga shook, embracing him and pressing him to the marble.

“Whaaaat?” He turned under her.

Pulling herself away with incredible difficulty, she took his head and tried to raise it.

He sat up.

“Thi
s..
.” With a trembling hand she pointed to the bodies lying near them.