Bradbury, Ray - Chapbook 13

Bradbury, Ray - Chapbook 13 by Ahmed, the Oblivion Machines (v2.1) Page A

Book: Bradbury, Ray - Chapbook 13 by Ahmed, the Oblivion Machines (v2.1) Read Free Book Online
Authors: Ahmed, the Oblivion Machines (v2.1)
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lions and the lack of fire. List! Would you save yet more of
me and all of you?"
    "I would!"
    "Then no more tears! No more cries! With your
robes, sweep off the dunes from the pave ments of my limbs.
Rouse Gonn the Great to the stars.   My funeral bones bring forth ,   and clothe
them with your breath so that long be fore dawn, great Gonn will be
reborn from your sighs and
shouts and prayers! Beginl "
    And Ahmed rose and sighed and prayed and shouted with joy and
used his robes as broom to sweep and quicken this newfound friend of such a size the stars,
seeing him, danced in their pivots and shivered in their burning gyres.
    And what Ahmed's breath did not move, then his bare feet
kicked away in the wind until the great bronze torso burst free. And then the snaking arms, the
blunt fists, legs, and incredible feet, so that the naked god was unclothed of
ancient dunes and lay under the burning gazes of Aldebaran ,
Orion, and Alpha Centauri. Star light finished the revelation, even as Ahmed's breath,
a fount, went dry.
    "I am!" cried Gonn -Ben-Allah.
    And he lay there, three men wide and two dozen tall, his torso
a monument, his arms obe lisks, his legs cenotaphs, his face a noble half- Sphinx, part sun god
Ra, Arabian wits in fiery eyes, and a storm of Allah's voice in
his cavern mouth.
    "I," said Gonn -Ben- Allah, "am!"
    "Oh, you must have been a great
god," said Ahmed.
    "I strode the earth and shadowed
continents. Now help me rise! Speak my hieroglyphs. The claw prints of the
birds that from solstice to solstice touched my clay with prayers in codes, read and say!"
    And Ahmed spoke to the sands:
    "Now, Gonn of
old, be young. Arise. Warm limbs, warm blood, warm heart, warm soul, warm breath. Come up, Gonn , up! Away from death!"
    The great Gonn stirred and settled and then with a great shout shot into the heavens to sway above Ahmed, his
limbs sunk deep as architec tural pilings in the tidal sands. Set free, he laughed, for now it
was a goodness beyond reckoning or word.
    "There is reason, boy, why you stared
and fell to print the dust and waken me. I have waited an eternity for you, the keeper
of the skies, the
inheritor of the dream, the one who flies without flying."
    And Gonn -Ben-Allah
moved his arms to touch the horizons.
    "The dream has stayed forever. Oh, the clouds, men have said.
Oh, the stars and the wind that moves not stars but
clouds. Oh, the storms that wander Earth to seize our breath. Oh, the lightnings we would borrow and hurricanes race. What jealous despairs we lie with nights and
angered, know not flight!
    "So you, boy, are the Storm
Keeper."
    And Gonn touched
Ahmed's brow.
    "Lead me with your dreams, which now must be
remembered."
    "How can I remember what is not?"
Ahmed felt
his eyes, his mouth, his ears.
    "Step, walk, run. Then leap, bound,
fly. ..."
    And   as   they   watched,    a   great weather   of
    darkness arose from that
north from which all

And Gomi touched Ahmed's
brow.

coldness comes, and that west
which swallows the sun and that east which follows the death of the sun and
darkens the sky. There were blizzards and hurricanes in the clouds and storms
of lightning
in its attics and the sounds of endless funerals lamenting as they fell off the edge
of the
world. The great blackness loomed over Ahmed and Gonn -Ben-Allah.
    "What is that?" cried Ahmed.
    "That," said Gonn , "is the
Enemy."
    "Is there such a thing?"
    "One half of everything is the
Enemy," said Gonn . "Just as one half of everything is the Saviour , the bright rememberer of noon ."
    "And what is the name of that
Enemy?"
    "Why, child, it is Time, and Time
Again."
    "But, oh, mighty Gonn ,
does Time have a shape? I did not know you could see Time."
    "Once it happens, yes. Time has shapes
and shadows
to be seen. That, on the rim of the world, is Time to Be. A remembrance forward of
things that will be erased, destroyed, if you do not grapple with it,
seize it, shape it with your
soul, sound it with your voice. Then Time becomes

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