Watson, Ian - Black Current 01 by The Book Of The River (v1.1) Page A

possible harm could you intend us?
And what harm could you possibly do, without harming yourself into the
bargain?"
                 "You've
lost me my brother," said I. "You've lost him for my parents. Forever."
                 "I
think, Yaleen, that you and they lost him a long time
ago. But don't think of him as vanished. Don't count on his not being hailed as
a hero, one of these days."
                 "A hero—of what?"
                 "Of
the knowledge of why things are as they are."
                 "And
of how to alter them?"
                 Hasso
remained silent.
                 "He'll
be so alone," I went on. "Utter strangers, different customs, always
having to sneak around and pretend. . . ."
                 "Not
necessarily. He is a man, after all.
Who's to say that they won't welcome him over there? just as soon as he's checked out the lie of the land. And as to loneliness, maybe he
was always alienated . . . But you know, where one man can cross, another man
can cross too."
                 "Is
that what it's really all about, then? Emigration?"
                 "Oh,
come off it! Diving suits don't exactly come cheap or easily. Will you stop
pulling such gloomy faces? We should be celebrating. For the first time in
history something new has happened. We even know the depth of the black current
now. I'll bet that's something your own guild doesn't know."
                 "No
comment, Hasso."
                 "No
comment asked for, either. Let's stop fencing, shall we? I like you, Yaleen. Those few little queries I raised a year ago were
very much the second thing on my mind then. If not the tenth! And it was you, I'll remind you, who came looking.
. . ."
                 "Hmm."
                 And
presently we did continue on down the stairs together. Though both down in the
town itself and later on when we returned up the Spire, I was careful not to
seem to be sailing in the direction of his personal harbour. However, by then the real truth was that I hadn't drunk any Safe recently.
                 The
next day again dawned bright, as usual at this time of the year; though perhaps
it would cloud over later.
     
             And
the light winked from the same location.
                 The
message went:
                 Made contact. Woman alone gathering
wood. Pretended am traveller from afar. Asked reason for black patch outside town. River worshippers
burnt recently. Mother caught bathing nude in river. Burnt. Later daughter went mad. Questioned. Burnt too. Who by? Brotherhood. Query? Sons of Adam. Why? Incomprehension. Repeated query. River quote Satan unquote. Satan query? Woman alarmed. Tried to flee. Overtook. Tell her am Son of Adam. On
mission. Keep mouth shut. Same time tomorrow. End.
     
                 "So
what's Satan?" asked Hasso, expressing the general puzzlement. "And
who's Adam?"
                 "Maybe
Satan is 'sanity', mixed up?" I suggested. "Because the black current
drives men mad. . . ."
                 Yosef
nodded. "Possibly. And possibly the word Adam has
a negative prefix, as in words like 'abort' and 'apathy'—and dam is a female
parent? Thus: 'sons without a mother'."
                 "There
are quite a few of those on this side of the river," commented Hasso,
somewhat acidly.
                 "Were
you one of those?" I asked him sharply. "Was your mother a
riverwoman?"
                 "Uh? Oh no. Not at all. Please
don't leap to so many conclusions about me, will you not? I thought we'd made
it all up yesterday. Well, maybe not all.
. . ."
                 "Okay,
okay. Sorry. So where does this Satan and Adam business leave us?"
                 "The
answer to that," said Yosef, "is: considerably more knowledgeable than
ever before. Plus, we know that some