prepare a report for internal viewing.’
Subadwan respectfully placed her hands upon Rhannan’s shoulders, then dropped them, and asked, ‘What happened?’
Rhannan hesitated, then said, ‘Doubtless some trick of Tanglanah’s. We may never find out.’
‘Tanglanah is a bully,’ Aswaque echoed.
Subadwan saw then that neither of her superiors had any understanding of the brief period they had just spent in an artificial country, and the realisation made her feel both frightened and emboldened. She asked Rhannan, ‘What will you do now?’
‘I am going straight down to the Archive of Noct to demand a meeting with the Reeve. This anti-human harassment has got to stop. I won’t leave until I have assurances, whether he likes it or not.’
~
Tanglanah returned to the Archive of Safekeeping, walking into a room whose walls were padded plastic, glowing gold and silver as if veins coiled and writhed underneath. At a wave of her hand these images cleared like evaporating mist, to reveal a Crayan landscape, dark, motionless and gloomy.
In a plaza, a hemispherical shape lay, insectoid feet outstretched, mandibles extended, as if it was a tank of war in repose. Tanglanah looked at it for a few moments, then said, as if to the wall, ‘Bring constructive interference!’
The picture came to life. Feet scraped the resin of the plaza ground, and mandibles quivered. What was two dimensional acquired depth. The black creature twitched, then moved.
‘Tanglanah?’ it said.
‘Greckoh. I bring news.’
‘What happened?’
‘We have found our subject.’
A shiver seemed to pass through Greckoh’s chitinous body, as if its ahuman mind had caused an electronic ripple. ‘Good. Was it one of the superiors?’
‘It was Subadwan.’
‘What ability did she show?’
‘She has the imagination necessary to fly. She was very quick, as if she flew by instinct, though I had already detected something of her vigour during our earlier conversation. The irony is that Subadwan is the one we require, yet her potential marks her out as dangerous to us.’
‘She is but a human.’
‘Yet a human we need.’
Greckoh paused before remarking, ‘The long wait is over. Now the flaw in Cray has fully manifested itself and we have chosen Subadwan, we can start to work in earnest.’
CHAPTER 6
During the week after Coelendwia’s arrival the lens appeared most nights. It would emerge from the mists of the Cemetery or the Swamps, sometimes floating up to the Cowhorn Tower as if it wanted to get inside. Brave Coelendwia stood his ground by the door, but the object harmed nobody.
The attraction of the lens to the Cowhorn Tower was unmistakeable. Furthermore, it soon became apparent that only Dwllis could see the spectral images it showed. These images were of a dark, urban landscape occasionally the setting for the figures of women. Once or twice Dwllis saw these figures in detail, but he recoiled from the baroque, sometimes macabre images. Coelendwia stared at the lens for hours, squinting to see in the darkness, but he could make out nothing. Despite its silence, Dwllis felt that the lens was taunting him with its presence, goading him to act. Until he understood its origins, however, he had no idea what he should do.
Dwllis’ troubles were legion. Crimson Boney was bringing antique memories every other day, leaving Dwllis with the unsettling feeling that here was an intelligent gnostician. When Crimson Boney burbled and purred at him it was as if the gnostician were speaking – actually trying to converse. Dwllis was shocked by the thought that the gnosticians might be more advanced than people had realised. The fact that Crimson Boney seemed to have some connection with the Archive of Selene only made things more baffling, and far more worrying.
Added to this was the problem of Cuensheley. One day Dwllis met her at a food parlour. The only other person in the parlour was its owner, Belh.
He had been buying provisions – apple
Subadwan respectfully placed her hands upon Rhannan’s shoulders, then dropped them, and asked, ‘What happened?’
Rhannan hesitated, then said, ‘Doubtless some trick of Tanglanah’s. We may never find out.’
‘Tanglanah is a bully,’ Aswaque echoed.
Subadwan saw then that neither of her superiors had any understanding of the brief period they had just spent in an artificial country, and the realisation made her feel both frightened and emboldened. She asked Rhannan, ‘What will you do now?’
‘I am going straight down to the Archive of Noct to demand a meeting with the Reeve. This anti-human harassment has got to stop. I won’t leave until I have assurances, whether he likes it or not.’
~
Tanglanah returned to the Archive of Safekeeping, walking into a room whose walls were padded plastic, glowing gold and silver as if veins coiled and writhed underneath. At a wave of her hand these images cleared like evaporating mist, to reveal a Crayan landscape, dark, motionless and gloomy.
In a plaza, a hemispherical shape lay, insectoid feet outstretched, mandibles extended, as if it was a tank of war in repose. Tanglanah looked at it for a few moments, then said, as if to the wall, ‘Bring constructive interference!’
The picture came to life. Feet scraped the resin of the plaza ground, and mandibles quivered. What was two dimensional acquired depth. The black creature twitched, then moved.
‘Tanglanah?’ it said.
‘Greckoh. I bring news.’
‘What happened?’
‘We have found our subject.’
A shiver seemed to pass through Greckoh’s chitinous body, as if its ahuman mind had caused an electronic ripple. ‘Good. Was it one of the superiors?’
‘It was Subadwan.’
‘What ability did she show?’
‘She has the imagination necessary to fly. She was very quick, as if she flew by instinct, though I had already detected something of her vigour during our earlier conversation. The irony is that Subadwan is the one we require, yet her potential marks her out as dangerous to us.’
‘She is but a human.’
‘Yet a human we need.’
Greckoh paused before remarking, ‘The long wait is over. Now the flaw in Cray has fully manifested itself and we have chosen Subadwan, we can start to work in earnest.’
CHAPTER 6
During the week after Coelendwia’s arrival the lens appeared most nights. It would emerge from the mists of the Cemetery or the Swamps, sometimes floating up to the Cowhorn Tower as if it wanted to get inside. Brave Coelendwia stood his ground by the door, but the object harmed nobody.
The attraction of the lens to the Cowhorn Tower was unmistakeable. Furthermore, it soon became apparent that only Dwllis could see the spectral images it showed. These images were of a dark, urban landscape occasionally the setting for the figures of women. Once or twice Dwllis saw these figures in detail, but he recoiled from the baroque, sometimes macabre images. Coelendwia stared at the lens for hours, squinting to see in the darkness, but he could make out nothing. Despite its silence, Dwllis felt that the lens was taunting him with its presence, goading him to act. Until he understood its origins, however, he had no idea what he should do.
Dwllis’ troubles were legion. Crimson Boney was bringing antique memories every other day, leaving Dwllis with the unsettling feeling that here was an intelligent gnostician. When Crimson Boney burbled and purred at him it was as if the gnostician were speaking – actually trying to converse. Dwllis was shocked by the thought that the gnosticians might be more advanced than people had realised. The fact that Crimson Boney seemed to have some connection with the Archive of Selene only made things more baffling, and far more worrying.
Added to this was the problem of Cuensheley. One day Dwllis met her at a food parlour. The only other person in the parlour was its owner, Belh.
He had been buying provisions – apple
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