Starship Spring (5 page)

We murmured our appreciation as we filed back through the chambers towards the exit stairway.

Later, as we emerged from the subterranean cool into the cloying humidity of the rainforest, Kee—who had been quiet until that point—shivered and said, “I didn’t like it down there, Hawk. It was creepy.”

We hurried back to the villa.

SIX

We decided to eat in that evening and I made my speciality, green Thai curry. Checking the provisions in the cooler and extensive storeroom before I began, I was amazed to find all the requisite ingredients to hand; it was as if whoever had provisioned the villa had known of my culinary predilections.

They had even stocked the cooler full of our favourite beer.

We ate on the patio as they sun went down and the Ring of Tharssos brightened. As we ate and chatted, I wondered if I was not alone in sensing—despite being among my best friends at long last—an air of unease hovering over us like a storm cloud. First there was the visitation of the Yall apparition, then Hawk’s dream urging him to travel to the Falls in his starship, Petronious’s gift of the cone necklace and Da Souza’s odd reaction to seeing it—not to mention Kee’s shivery assessment of what we had seen underground. I think she had spoken for all of us then.

If we were aware of the finger of fate directing us towards who knew what outcome, we did our best not to acknowledge it. Conversation was light, jocular; Hawk told disparaging stories about the tourists he’d shepherded around the Expansion and Hannah chipped in with some of the more light-hearted stories of life in the Mackinley police department. Even Kee joined in with a story recounting Hawk’s embarrassment when he snubbed a minor royal at a party on the newly-settled colony world of Runciman, Aldebaran VI.

Spluttering on his beer, Hawk laughed, “How the hell was I supposed to know? I thought he was a waiter!”

“It’s true,” Kee giggled. “Hawk asked him to refill my glass!”

The night proceeded in this fashion as the stars came out, a blazing panoply of brilliance high above the Ring. It was a good night, just like old times, but I couldn’t help but notice that one of our number was uncharacteristically quiet: Matt smiled and on occasion even laughed, but he didn’t join in with stories of his own, or offer dry comments. It was not like him. He seemed to hold himself apart from the conversation, observing.

At one point I asked my friends about what we’d seen in the subterranean chamber. “Did you get the impression that Da Souza wasn’t telling us everything down there?”

“I’m sure she wasn’t,” Hawk said. “I’m sure the boffins have discovered a hell of a lot more than she told us.”

“Isn’t that to be expected, after all?” Maddie asked.

“Of course,” I said, “it’s just that…”

Hannah was looking at me with professional eyes. She leaned forward and said, “You had words with Da Souza on the way down, David. And after that her manner was… let’s say cagey. What did you say to her? Out with it.”

I wondered if I could ever hide anything from my wife.

“Well, it wasn’t so much what I said…” And I went on to tell them about Da Souza’s reaction to seeing Ella’s alien necklace. “It was almost as if she’d seen it before,” I finished.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt lean forward minimally and open his mouth as if to say something. He thought better of it and leaned back. I glanced at him, but he looked away and drained the last of his beer.

I knew better than to quiz him then. Maybe later, I thought, when we were alone.

Maddie said, “Perhaps she
has
seen something like it before: what of it?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps I was wrong. It just struck me as odd—I mean, if she did recognise the necklace, surely she would have commented?”

“You’re drunk, David Conway. You’re reading more into a casual remark than was really there,” Hannah said.

I shrugged. Beside me, Ella said tiredly, “Daddy’s not drunk, are you! The lady did look at my necklace. I think she knew it was worth millions and millions of creds!” She lifted the cone and stared at it, and a little later slipped from the table and went to play in the garden next to the patio.

I turned to Kee, “Do you know if the Ashentay knew anything about the underground chamber?”

Her reaction surprised me; she looked away pointedly and said, “I’m sure they didn’t know anything about it, David.”

Conversation moved on and the beer flowed; it was just before midnight when the first yawn set us all off; the gathering broke up and we made for our respective rooms. I told Hannah I’d put Ella to bed, and moved to the adjacent flower garden.

Ella was sitting cross-legged on the lawn before a border, poking at something with a stick. I dropped down beside her.

“And what’s happening here?”

“Daddy, they’re not doing what I want them to do.”

I smiled. “What aren’t, bean?”

“These… these creatures!”

I leaned forward and stared at where she was pointing with the stick. In the silvery ring-light I made out scurrying red ant-like insects, half the size of my thumb.

“Look, there’s a juicy bit of sava fruit here and I want them to find it and take it into their house…” She indicated the opening to their underground lair. “But they just ignore it. Look, they’re going round it. Even when I put the fruit right in front of them. Aren’t they hungry?”

I smiled. “It’s not they aren’t hungry, Ella. Just that these particular… chivills, they’re called… are nest builders. They have a duty, and it’s to gather material to build their house. Now these chivills over here…” I pointed to a foraging party. “I think these might be interested in the fruit.”

“You think so?”

“Why not find out? Put the fruit there…”

With the stick she prodded the windfall across the soil and into the path of the foraging chivills. A dozen of them swarmed over it, got a grip and managed to roll it towards the entrance to their lair. Seconds later it was gone.

Ella clapped her hands in delight.

I pulled her into my lap, kissed her soft cheek and said, “Right. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“Story?”

“A short one, if you hurry up to bed this minute.”

I put Ella to bed, made up a quick story about chivills in search of giant sava fruit, then joined Hannah on the balcony of our room.

I reached out and held her hand. We sat in silence for a while, as if awed by the natural beauty around us. Hannah said, very quietly, “What’s happening, David?”

I knew better than to fob her off. I said, “I honestly don’t know.”

She was silent for a while. “David,” she said at last, “what is it about you, your group of friends?”

I looked at her.

“They’re special,” she said, “aren’t they?”

I squeezed her hand. “Not as special—” I began.

“You know what I mean. They’re… I mean, look what happened six years ago, with Matt and that Dortmund character. And before that—you told me about the Ashentay bone-smoking ritual and what happened then. And before that, the Opening of the Way. What is it about you people?”

I shrugged, at a loss to explain the incidents that had swept us up and carried us along, often against our will.

She said, almost in a whisper, “And it’s happening again, isn’t it?”

I was blithe. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Treat me with a little respect, David!” she snapped. “Look, I know something’s going on. Ever since the night before we came here. The night you couldn’t sleep: you were talking to… something in the kitchen…” She turned her deep green eyes on me. “Are you going to tell me, David?”

So I sighed and told her about the apparition, and what the Yall had said to me.

When I finished, Hannah shivered and said, “I’m frightened.”

I reached out. “Don’t be. I was being honest when I said I don’t know what’s going on. But I do know that I trust the Yall. It told me to be prepared, but not to fear. It said that all will be well.”

She smiled. “I hope so, David.”

We went to bed and made love slowly, with tenderness; I caressed her with touches that meant more than mere words, trying to communicate to Hannah that no matter what happened, no matter what events overtook us in the days to come, the reality of our union was the thing that mattered most to me.

While she breathed gently in sleep beside me, I lay awake. An hour passed, then two. I stared at the clock embedded in the glass wall, watching the seconds slowly elapse. At last, at almost three in the morning, I got up, pulled on my shorts and shoes, and fetched a sava juice from the bar.

I sat on the balcony in the cooling night breeze, drank slowly and marvelled at the sweep of stars overhead.

I became aware, by degrees, that the movement in the jungle was more than just the casual rustle of small animals about their nocturnal business. The sounds were quiet but regular, soft footfalls coming from every direction. Perhaps I should have felt some measure of alarm, but the odd fact was that I felt very calm, as if possessed by some strange foreknowledge that whatever happened I would come to no harm.

I stared into the rainforest, the silvered leaves contrasting with the inky shadows between them. Occasionally I caught a glimpse of a running body, fleet in the ring-light, and once or twice I fancied I saw a flash of eyes, staring out at me.

The activity increased. I sensed that the villa was surrounded by the curious native folk: I had never felt more observed in my life.

I drank my juice unperturbed.

Five minutes later I was startled by a relatively loud sound from my right. I glanced across the patio. A door had opened, and a figure emerged.

Kee padded across the timber deck and paused before the fringe of the rainforest. She seemed to be peering into the foliage, waiting…

I was aware that I was holding my breath in anticipation of what was about to happen.

The odd thing was, I
knew
that Kee was standing there below me not because she had heard the noises and was curious, but because she had been summoned… or perhaps this is no more than the wisdom of hindsight.

Suddenly, surprising me, two figures emerged from the foliage before Kee, took her arms and led her into the rainforest. She seemed to accompany them with reluctance, leaning back against their grip as she vanished into the shadows. I heard the rustling of others in the surrounding jungle, the noise receding as they followed Kee.

I was sweating. My first impulse was to alert Hawk, my second—which for some reason I obeyed—was to follow Kee.

I moved quickly from the balcony, crossed the patio and came to the fringe of rainforest into which Kee had passed. I made out a worn path through the undergrowth, no more than a run made by small animals. I stepped forward, feeling the forest loam give gently under the soles of my canvas shoes, and hurried up the path after the fleeing Ashentay, batting away swaying fronds and the occasional curious airborne insect.

I came to a wider path—the same one Maddie told us she’d followed the other day—and caught a flash of movement up ahead: the Ashentay, perhaps a dozen of them.

They were swarming up a steep incline, much swifter than I could hope to run. I gave chase, panting, but not for one second questioning either the wisdom or the logic of what I was doing.

I arrived at the crest of the incline and looked about. The pathway continued to my right, and I followed it. Fifty metres further on I came to a clearing and halted quickly.

I knelt, breathing hard from the exertion, and stared through a fan of ferns.

This was evidently the place where, yesterday, Maddie had found the standing stone.

It rose from the mossy clearing, outlined in the silver ring-light, perhaps the height of a man and twice as broad. From this distance I could see engravings etched on its flank, but I was too far away to make them out with any accuracy.

More interesting, however, was what the gathered Ashentay were doing. I counted twelve of them, slight beings dressed only in loin-clothes, plus Kee who wore her customary yellow slip.

The aliens were encircling the stone, their hands linked; Kee was among them, taking part in this ritual—if a ritual it was—as if familiar with the procedure. As I watched, a soft, feathery twittering passed around the circle, as each of them in turn uttered quiet words: when it came to Kee’s turn, to my surprise she lowered her head and spoke.

Seconds later the ritual appeared to be over. They unclasped hands, the chain broken, and turned to leave the clearing.

I was taken then by the desire to get away, not wanting to be seen spying on whatever they had been doing. I turned and ran, and my retreat was far faster than the outward journey. I skidded and careered down the incline, almost falling over more than once, eager that my flight should not be seen.

It seemed only seconds later that I arrived back, bursting onto the patio like a clown onto a stage. I stopped, as much to muster dignity as to catch my breath, then hurried over to the table and sat down.

Seconds later I heard movement in the rainforest and Kee emerged, alone, through the fronds. She padded across the decking, staring ahead as if in a daze. I got to my feet and stood before her so that I impeded her progress. She stopped before me, staring at my chest. I reached out; touched her shoulder. “Kee?”

She seemed drugged, her eyes wide, unseeing.

I shook her. “Kee?” I said again.

She gave not the slightest response, and I thought it wise not to wake her. I stood aside, and she continued on her way and slipped through the door to her room. I stood for a while in the ring-light, my heart beating feverishly, before I moved from the patio.

This time, oddly, sleep claimed me within minutes.

SEVEN

The following morning, over communal breakfast, Maddie announced that she was going to take us on a tour of the area.

She’d made a picnic and we stowed sandwiches and beer in our backpacks then set off from the villa. Instead of taking the walkway down the side of the Falls, as we had yesterday, Maddie led us up the timber construction. Within minutes we were above the great roaring crest of the waterfall. We stood on an observation platform jutting out over where the river tipped over the edge of the escarpment, and the noise was like a physical assault.