Maruman gave a snarling hiss, and I turned to see that his fur was standing on end and crackling with static energy in a way that would have been comical had it not been so unnerving.
“What is it?” I asked him, and then shuddered as I felt it too—a frisson of prickling power that ran about the glittering chamber and over my skin till I felt my own hair stand on end. A low-pitched hum filled the chamber. It took me a moment to realize that it was coming from the plast case, and I saw with a shock that the glass panel on the top now glowed with a greenish light. Then there was a faint click. I knelt down and looked closely at the case. The recessed place had now come level with its gray surface.
Heart pounding, I touched the recess. There was another distinct click, and the case split open at the join and lifted open smoothly of its own accord, revealing a set of small raised squares scribed with letters in the bottom half of the case and a glowing white screen in the top.
Seeing the now familiar rows of small squares and the screen, I realized with incredulity that I was looking at a small computermachine! And unlike the computermachines under Ariel’s residence, this one was working. Or at least, it was being powered, somehow, by the amethyst chamber. But how to learn what it contained? I studied the little squares, which Reul had once told me were also called keys. He had shown me how to tap on them to create scribed commands that the computermachine would obey if it could. More recently, Jak had shown me that a computer could be questioned as well as commanded, but he had added that communications with a computer must be framed in a way and in words that the computer would understand.
I licked my lips and realized my head was be ginning to ache. I forced myself to concentrate on the computermachine as I carefully tapped in letters to ask what was required of me. The words appeared in neat perfect black letters on the white screen, but nothing else happened. I tried several other questions, and they appeared one after another on the screen, but the computermachine offered no response. Perhaps the computer needed a code word or a series of numbers that would allow me to communicate with it. Another sort of key. I chewed my lip and then tapped in my name. That produced no effect, and I thought of Jak saying that it would be impossible to guess the code word of any Beforetime user of a computermachine, for they and their world were utterly unkonwn to us. Except that Cassy was not unknown to me. I typed in HANNAH and JACOB, and when they did not work, I racked my brain for the name of Cassy’s Tiban lover and wrote SAMU. Still nothing. I tried CASSY DUPREY and nothing happened.
Defeated, I set the case down again, reminding myself that Jak had said that it would be virtually impossible to guess a stranger’s code word. But Cassy was no stranger to me after so many years of dreaming of her, and she would have known that I had been born in an age beyond the computermachines of her time. She had lived into that time, and she might have foreseen that I would come to learn something of computermachines. But if she had set a code containing a message to me, would she not have made very sure that it was something I could guess?
I took up the computermachine again and tapped in KASANDA. Nothing happened. I tapped in CASSANDRA. Again nothing happened, but it was possible that I had scribed it incorrectly. I tried several versions of the name, but none caused anything to happen. I stared at the screen glumly and thought of Dell, wakening Ines by speaking her name aloud. Would the program in this computermachine hear me as Ines had?
I licked my lips and said in a stilted voice, “Kasanda, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
“Kasanda, can you hear me?”
Nothing again. I thought for a moment, and then said, “I am the Seeker.”
The light in the chamber seemed to dim, and I listened eagerly, awaiting the voice of the computermachine, but to my disappointment, there was no response. I glanced back down at the computermachine and gasped, for all of my laboriously typed questions had vanished, and now words were scribing themselves rapidly in lines on the screen.
I read them, heart thundering.
MY FRIEND, I read. I CALL YOU FRIEND, SEEKER, THOUGH WE HAVE NEVER MET, FOR I HAVE KNOWN YOU A VERY LONG TIME. TO YOU I KNOW THAT I WILL ONLY EVER BE A STRANGER WHOM YOU HAVE SOMETIMES GLIMPSED IN DREAMS OF A TIME THAT YOU WILL CALL THE BEFORETIME.
THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT I WISH I COULD TELL YOU, EXPLANATIONS I MIGHT MAKE, BUT THERE IS NO TIME.
HOW STRANGE IT IS TO SPEAK OF TIME, WHEN I HAVE DEFIED IT MORE THAN ONCE AND IN MORE THAN ONE WAY IN MY LIFE. YET TIME IS TRULY OF THE ESSENCE, FOR I HAVE NO RELIABLE WAY TO REGULATE THE POWER OF THIS CRYSTAL CHAMBER. I USED THE KNOWLEDGE OF MY LOST WORLD TO PREPARE IT AS BEST I COULD, BUT I KNOW THE POWER OF THE CRYSTAL RESONANCES IS TOO STRONG AND THAT VERY SOON IT WILL DESTROY THE WORKINGS OF THE COMPUTER. THEREFORE COMMIT TO MEMORY ALL I HAVE WRITTEN HERE, FOR THERE WILL NOT BE TIME FOR YOU TO READ MY WORDS AGAIN.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THEN THIS PORTABLE COMPUTER IS BEING POWERED BY THE CRYSTALS IN THE AMYTHEST CHAMBER, WHICH YOUR LANTERN LIGHT WILL HAVE ACTIVATED AFTER A SHORT TIME. I CANNOT EXPLAIN THE SCIENCE OF CRYSTAL RESONANCES AS AN ENERGY SOURCE, FOR THAT IS KNOWLEDGE LOST TO YOUR WORLD, BUT I PRAY THAT THIS COMPUTER, FOR WHICH I PAID LONG AND DEAR, WILL LAST LONG ENOUGH TO DO WHAT IT MUST DO NOW.
INSIDE IT IS A SMALL DEVICE, WHICH YOU WILL TAKE AWAY WITH YOU FROM THIS PLACE. BUT BEFORE I EXPLAIN HOW TO GET IT FROM THE COMPUTER, YOU NEED TO IMPRINT IT WITH YOUR VOICE.
PRESS THE A KEY.
I looked at the little squares until I found the A and pressed it.
The humming changed pitch again, and all the words vanished, to be replaced by two new lines of scribing.
SPEAK YOUR NAME AND SAY WHAT YOU ARE, SIMPLY AND CLEARLY.
PRESS C AND REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU HAVE SAID.
I cleared my throat and said, “I am Elspeth Gordie. I am the Seeker.” Then I pressed C.
The line of words on the screen vanished, and new words appeared, letter by glowing letter and far more swiftly than any hand could scribe them.
PRESS B AND LET MERIMYN SING.
PRESS C.
“Merimyn?” I read, baffled.
Maruman padded forward and sniffed at the computermachine, and I suddenly remembered a vision I had had of him as a kitten, playing on the dreamtrails with a young woman who had seemed vaguely familiar to me. She had called him Merimyn! My mind surged with questions, but I dared not waste time in questions lest the computermachine be destroyed before it could serve its purpose. So I found the B square. Bidding Maruman sing, I pressed it. He gave a long warbling yowl that would have made my hair stand on end, if it was not already doing so, and when he stopped, I pressed C.
The humming changed pitch again, and when I looked back at the screen, large red letters were flashing there: WAIT. IMPRINTING VOICE CODES TO MEMORY SEED.
The humming dropped in pitch, and the words were replaced by other words.
THE MEMORY SEED IS NOW ENCODED.
PRESS THE EJECT KEY AND THE DEVICE WILL APPEAR AT THE SIDE OF THE COMPUTER. TAKE IT AND KEEP IT WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES.
It took me so long to find the tiny word Eject scribed above the square marked with an O that I was beginning to panic, for I was sure I could now smell a faint burning odor, and I feared that the computermachine might suddenly explode or burst into flames. I pressed the O, and a small round shape protruded from the side of the machine. Gingerly, I pulled it out. It looked indistinguishable from thousands of similar small bits and pieces of plast that the Teknoguild had brought up from the levels they were continually excavating. I had no idea what it was or would do, but clearly the tiny tablet played some vital part in my quest. I slipped it into my inner pocket and buttoned it before turning my attention to the screen, where new words had scribed themselves.
THE MEMORY SEED CONTAINS WHAT YOU NEED TO GAIN ACCESS TO ALL LEVELS OF THE SENTINEL COMPLEX. YOU NEED ONLY LOAD THE SEED INTO ANY PORT ONCE YOU ARRIVE. EVEN A MAINTENANCE PORT IN THE AUXILIARY BUILDINGS WILL DO BECAUSE ALL ROADS LEAD TO SENTINEL, AS MY FATHER USED TO SAY. NO ONE WIT
HOUT THE MEMORY SEED WILL BE ABLE TO ENTER WITHOUT CAUSING SENTINEL TO SHUT DOWN ALL ACCESS AND DEFEND ITS PERIMETER, AND THE MEMORY SEED IS NOW NO USE WITHOUT YOU AND MERIMYN, FOR YOUR VOICES HAVE BECOME PART OF THE KEY CODE.
THERE IS VERY LITTLE TIME LEFT NOW. I WISH I COULD HAVE HELPED YOU MORE. ONLY REMEMBER THAT…
There was a crackling buzz, the smell of burning, and the computermachine screen went black.
Remember what? I wondered, horrified to think that something vital had been lost. Then I swiftly ran over what I had read, committing it to deeper memory, for there were many words I had not understood, and I would have to find out what they meant before I could properly understand what I was to do.
I turned to look at Maruman, whose fur still stood out in a ruff about his head, making him look like a small fierce lion. “Who called you Merimyn?” I asked. It was a mistake, of course. Maruman glared at me with his one baleful eye and turned to stalk out of the amethyst chamber. I rose with a sigh, wondering if the reason he hated questions so much had less to do with the mess of misconnections in his mind than the fact that curiosity was a form of desire, and desire was an emotion.
I looked down at the gray case with its dead black screen, hardly able to believe that it had enabled Kasanda to communicate with me. It was astounding, but at the same time I had a queer feeling of anticlimax. There were so many questions I wished I could have asked, not just about Kasanda’s message but about her life and her knowledge of me and my visions, about the Great White and Hannah and Jacob Obernewtyn. Of course, I knew that Kasanda was long dead and could not answer any questions, yet the queer intimacy of what had effectively been a letter to me made it seem eerily as if she was alive, as if all times were existing at once.
I touched my pocket and felt the small hardness of the memory seed as I rose and looked one last time at the amethyst chamber’s glittering splendor, marveling that Kasanda had been able to use it as a power source. I took up the lantern, and as I left the chamber, the blaze of light was extinguished and I almost stumbled in what seemed darkness, until my eyes had readjusted. I made my way along the narrow passage, my eyes gradually adjusting to the dim, unaugmented lantern light. I crossed the empty cavern and returned to the chamber of carved panels, where the overguardian waited, Maruman sitting by her feet.
“There is one more thing Kasanda left you,” she said.
20
WE ENTERED A long sloping walk up the side of an enormous cavern. The faint sea-scented air blowing toward us told me that we were close to the front of the Earthtemple. At length, we entered a small chamber where the wind blew so hard that it immediately snuffed out the lantern flames. But there was no need of them, for nearly palpable beams of silver-white moonlight streamed though a number of irregular openings in the stone. Through them, far below, lay Templeport and all about it as far as the eye could see, the vast, moonlit ocean. I crossed to look out one of the windows and became aware of the drumming of the sea on Templeport and the skirling of the wind against the stony faces carved into the cliff.
The overguardian spoke my name, and I turned. Standing in a shaft of moonlight, her veils whipping and fluttering in the wind, she made such a mysterious, striking vision that it took me a moment to notice that she was pointing to the stone wall behind her. Then I noticed a long vertical crevice in the rough stone too regular to be natural. I went to it and saw something long, narrow, and white standing in it.
“Take it,” said the overguardian.
I reached into the niche, and my hand found a long, hard, linen-wrapped bundle. It was much heavier than I had expected from its thinness.
“Open it,” said the overguardian.
I knelt to lay it on the ground so I could untie the thongs of hemp binding the cloth tight. When I had unwrapped what lay within, I stared, for it was a sword such as a soldierguard captain might wear or a Councillor who fancied himself a warrior, but this was carved from stone inlaid with silver or some pale shining metal in a scribing that seemed to be the same atop the ruined computermachine. It was a beautiful, ambiguous object and unmistakably Kasanda’s work. Indeed, it might be the finest she had ever created, as well as being the last.
“What is it for?” I asked, looking up at the overguardian.
“You are to take it and keep it with you until you find the one to whom it rightfully belongs.”
“Who is?”
“That was not given to me to know,” she answered serenely.
“It that all?” I asked tersely.
“What more do you want?” she asked.
“I don’t mean I want something more. I mean, is that all you can tell me. What is this sword that is not a sword? Why was such a thing made and for whom?”
“I do not know the answers to these questions. I know only that she who placed no value upon possessions valued this and named it the key to all things.”
I sighed, suddenly exhausted by puzzles and intrigues. Would there ever be an end to them? I rewrapped the stone sword, retied the thongs, and stood up.
By the time I had climbed from the cleft that led to the pivoting stone Earthtemple entrance, my arms were aching from the weight of the sword, and I headed straight for my tent to rid myself of the unwieldy thing. There was no sign of Jakoby, but I did not need her to guide me. It seemed as though hours had passed while I was in the labyrinth of stone, and I felt chilled to the bone, but the night air was balmy and warm, and when I reached the path leading up from the spit, I saw that a good deal of activity still centered on the trade stalls. In the distance beyond them, the frenzy of movement about the fire pits suggested feasting had given way to dance. I could have gone back and joined the others, but suddenly I knew that I would not. What had happened in the Earthtemple had severed the warm connection I had felt to everyone and everything earlier in the evening, for it was a reminder that however much I might feel or long for it, I was the Seeker, which meant I was alone.
In my tent, I lit a lantern and unwrapped the sword to study it again, wondering why Kasanda had made such a useless if lovely object. It was not a statue that could be set up and admired, and it would never cut anything. The overguardian had called it a key, which made it seem as if it must be connected to my quest as the Seeker, but she had also said it was to be returned to the one it belonged to, and who could that be? Besides, if Kasanda had made it and left it for me, it had never belonged to anyone but its maker. Unless she had made it for someone. But how was I to discover who? I wrapped up the sword, something else nagging at me. The words in the computermachine said that the memory seed would give me access to all levels of the Sentinel Complex, which confirmed that this was my ultimate destination as Seeker, but if it was to open all doors, then why did I need the other words and clues that had been left for me: the key Jacob Obernewtyn had carried into the Blacklands; the words on Evander’s cairn; whatever had been carved into the statue that marked the Twentyfamilies’ safe-passage agreement; and whatever awaited me in the Red Queen’s land.
I lay back on my bed. Kasanda had said that she had defied time twice and in more than one way. What could that possibly mean? And what had she meant by saying it had cost her much to obtain the small computermachine? I could only imagine that she had brought it with her on her journey across the sea to the Red Queen’s land, but if so, how had she managed to keep it with her when she was taken by the Gadfian raiders? Unless she had obtained it while she was their captive. Indeed, it might even be the reason she had allowed them to take her.
I rolled onto my stomach and looked at Maruman, who had curled to sleep on the end of my bedroll, and I wondered again about the young woman who had called him Merimyn and how Kasanda had known that name. She must have foreseen his play on the dreamtrails, but why use that slight distortion of his name?
I pushed the stone sword out of sight between my bedroll and the side of the tent. I had no fear that it would be stolen. The penalties for theft were very severe in Sador, because all crime was regarded as theft. I lay
staring up into the darkness of the tent roof, feeling more and more awake. Finally, I gave up trying to sleep and decided to bathe in the clear pool at the base of the cliffs. It was but a few minutes’ walk away, and the moment the idea came to me, I yearned to feel water on my hot sticky skin. I stripped off my silken clothes, drew on the wrap Kaman had given me earlier, and walked barefoot from the tent over sand still warm from the day, Maruman padding lightly beside me.
I had thought to swim alone, and I was startled and disappointed to see a large crowd of young women already swimming. Their easy nakedness, the lack of men, and the giddy horseplay puzzled me, given the lateness of the hour, but the thought of a swim was too enticing to turn back. I walked to the edge of the pool, shrugged off the wrap, and entered the water. Its embrace was like cold silk, and I sighed with pleasure.
“Greetings, Elspeth,” called a voice, and I opened my eyes to see Bruna swimming languidly toward me.
“An odd hour for so many to swim,” I said.
“You might call it an informal ritual,” Bruna said. “You see, in an hour or so, many of these women will be hunted, so they cool their blood in readiness to make themselves elusive.”
I remembered then what Jakoby had told me and said as lightly as I could, “Will you take part in this hunt?”
“I must, for three stones in my mother’s bowl had my name on them,” she said, tossing her sleek braided head, the beads and silver cuffs giving out a silvery music. “Probably it is no more than curiosity on the part of the men who scribed my name, for I have been away a long time.” Her tone was cool and certain, and I wondered what she would say if I told her that Dardelan may have left one of the stones.
Of course I did not, for it was none of my business to meddle with a mother’s meddling. Besides, maybe Dardelan had not put a stone in the bowl. Indeed, when I thought of him, he was always surrounded by maps and books and laws and quills, serious and preoccupied by the weighty business of governing the Land; I could not imagine anyone less like a hunter than the bookish young high chieftain.