Page 6 of The White City

The two young observatory priests were busy with an instrument, a long tube of polished wood mounted on a conical stand, on the eastern side of the platform. The old priest spoke at length to Lamla.

  Kandrigi stood to one side staring vaguely out to sea, the warmth of contentment filling his breast. His mind was bright with unrealised thoughts; he was worshipping creation, and yet he was not – he was contented with himself and a tenuous line of unconditioned feeling encountered the contentment in the night-world outside.

  The old priest finished speaking and stared significantly at Kandrigi’s back. Lamla spoke now and made conciliatory gestures with his hands. The old priest pursed his lips, hesitated, and finally nodded. Lamla gripped his elbow and squeezed it, a thin smile of intimacy tightening his lips. He turned to Kandrigi.

  ‘They have sighted the viewer, Kandrigi. Very soon now the moon will rise and we will know if their predictions are correct.’

  Kandrigi started; ‘Why should they not be? They are trained men.’

  ‘Ah, indeed. But Ma-Tin’s calculations are not always what they should be. He is a hasty man. I hope his successor is an improvement.’

  ‘Who is he? Is he here?’

  ‘No. He is in the Temple awaiting our signal.’

  The three observatory priests were gathered around the viewing instrument.

  ‘Lamla – did you speak to them about the new star?’

  ‘No, I have not. We will let them complete this ritual first. There is time enough.’

  Ma-Tin suddenly cried out. One of the young priests ran to the ladder and disappeared down into the tower. Soon he was back again, carrying a newly lit torch. Ma-Tin shouted at him, gesturing sharply for him to hurry. He wrenched the torch from him and waved it over his head. It flared up and sparks flew in every direction. The two younger priests began to chant loudly and Lamla at Kandrigi’s side echoed them in a low voice.

  Then from the Temple came the murmur of voices, swelling and lowering in chant. Now the choir joined them, penetrating the night with a long sonorous metre of praise. Soon the uneven rattle of chanting voices quietened and the splendidly intricate harmony that the choir was developing was alone and clear on the night air. It seemed to gain strength from an access of power in the knowledge that it was unchallenged. It would reach the ends of the earth, flowing out over the glimmering, heaving sea in one direction, and echoing through the silent, pensive nightlands in the other.

  Lamla silently took Kandrigi’s arm and led him to the viewing tube. He bent and put his eye to it. Then he invited Kandrigi to do likewise.

  The bore of the tube was blackened and Kandrigi’s eye was filled with the soft, yellow light of the sliver that hung low in the sky. The light poured endlessly through the transparent space from the new moon into his eyes. Spots danced before his eye and the music filled his ears.

  Lamla touched his shoulder.

  ‘Kandrigi, enough. Do not look any longer. It is bad for your inexperienced eyes.’

  Kandrigi continued to stare with fascination at the yellow slice of the moon. Tiny white and ice-blue spots appeared and vanished along the bore of the tube. The singing came clearly to his ears.

  Lamla touched his shoulder again.

  ‘Come away, Kandrigi. You will blind yourself.’

  Kandrigi remained glued to the tube. Lamla called Ma-Tin, who took his time about looking around – he was gazing down on the Ka, his assistants on either side of him. He spoke to one, and he reluctantly left his post and came across and helped Lamla pull Kandrigi away from the tube. As soon as they managed to do it, he went back to his place by Ma-Tin’s side, ignoring the dazed and violently blinking Kandrigi.

  ‘Did I not warn you, Kandrigi?’ Lamla said angrily.

  Kandrigi looked at him with his unaffected eye. His head felt strange, as though it no longer belonged, to him. There was a humming sound in his ears and his eye burned and flashed redly. Lamla caught his arm.

  ‘Answer me, Kandrigi,' he said, more anxious now than angry.

  Kandrigi tottered and Lamla steadied him.

  ‘Help him sit! Help him sit!’ Kandrigi cried out in a strange commanding voice.

  Lamla started and called the three priests to come and help him. The voice had startled them too and they needed no further command. The four of them crowded around Kandrigi and lowered him to the stone surface of the platform. Lamla attempted to create order so that he could have time to think of what to do next, but his voice was drowned by Ma-Tin’s as he told one assistant to get cushions and the other to help carry Kandrigi down the ladder to the chamber below.

  Kandrigi boomed again: ‘Stand back! Give him room!’

  Lamla, Ma-Tin and the assistants jumped back and gathered at the edge of the platform, their eyes unswervingly on the seated figure of Kandrigi, who had now drawn his feet in to his body and wrapped his arms about his knees. He cocked his head to one side, as though to listen. Then he straightened up and said in his usual voice:

  ‘I do not understand it.’

  Again he listened. He nodded.

  ‘Why must it be so? Give me a cause.’

  ‘No. Should there not be a cause?’

  He paused, listening, then spoke again:

  ‘I do not understand. I am a simple man of faith. There are others more capable than me.’

  Another pause.

  ‘No! No! All this talk about time makes no sense to me. Tell me man’s part in this. Is he to blame?... Then who is to blame?... I do not understand these laws. Can they not be controlled?... No! I will not believe it!... Freak? Accident of nature? I cannot accept that. It is insane... I will listen patiently.’

  Kandrigi listened with what seemed to he exaggerated attention. Then he said:

  ‘It is no help for you to say that what must be must be. Why do you tell me about it if I can do nothing to stop it?... No! You are either a fool. or you are a madman. I refuse to do what you ask... I am not a fool. Do you think I would tell men that? It is insane – yes it is, even if it is inevitable. Do it yourself. I will not... No. no. I would die first... You can. If you can tell me you can tell everybody... Then I do not want the honour. You are a coward as well as a fool... Do? Stop it, of course... No. I do not understand it. You are making excuses. You must have the power... Who has, then?... I do not believe you. You must be mad. If you are not, then I must he... No! Leave me. I want no part in it... I will no longer listen. Go away!’

  Kandrigi waved his arms furiously.

  ‘Go away, go away.’

  He bowed his head and raised it again and called:

  ‘Lamla, Lamla, where are you? Come and help me.’

  All four priests rushed forward and surrounded him. When Lamla’s hand brushed his arm. Kandrigi grabbed it with both of his own and pulled himself to his feet.

  ‘What happened to you, Kandrigi?’ Lamla asked feverishly. Ma-Tin asked him a similar question in his own language and the two assistants repeated it brokenly.

  Kandrigi was staring at Lamla, his face strained.

  ‘Did you speak, Lamla?’

  ‘Yes, Kandrigi. I asked you to tell me what had happened to you.’

  ‘I cannot hear you. There is a tremendous roaring in my head. Is it the choir in the Temple? Or has a storm sprung up?’

  Lamla spoke more loudly: ‘Can you hear me now? The choir has finished its hymn and the night is calm and silent.’

  Kandrigi saw Lamla’s lips move but he heard nothing except the roaring in his head, like the incessant ocean crashing on to a rocky shore. He shook his head.

  ‘There is only this roaring, Lamla. I see your lips move but I do not hear your words.’

  Ma-Tin told Lamla that it was shock and that Kandrigi should he taken below to rest. He did not try to conceal his impatience. This stranger could not be forgiven for interfering with the sacred ritual of the New Moon.

  Lamla spoke to Kandrigi on his fingers and told him Ma-Tin’s suggestion.

  ‘I will go down after I have seen the st
ar. I must see it first.’

  Lamla translated for Ma-Tin, who snorted in exasperation and replied that it would take too long to find. Lamla asked him if he had not made calculations of its position and Ma-Tin curtly replied that it was impossible, that its course was not clear. Lamla pursed his lips and paused, as though he was considering this reply, then he sharply ordered Ma-Tin to search the heavens for the star and to keep searching until he found it. Ma-Tin baulked, clenching his hands, but his eyes soon wavered under Lamla’s steady gaze and he turned on his assistants and shouted at them to set up the tube in the centre of the platform, When they had done this, he pushed them out of his way and bent his eye to the tube.

  Lamla hand-spoke to Kandrigi: ‘As you can see, Kandrigi. Ma-Tin has now assented to search for the star. I hope it will not take long.’

  Kandrigi nodded abstractly. He began to scan the heavens himself, his mouth clamped tight with nervous expectation.

  Lamla felt this tension. For a second it unnerved him, but his sense of responsibility asserted itself and cooled his mind. He called one of the assistants, who were standing to one side talking in low tones, and dispatched him to bring Hepteidon, Ma-Tin’s deputy and successor, over from the Temple. The assistant, relieved to get away from the platform, leaped down into the chamber below.

  Lamla approached Kandrigi and attracted his attention by tapping his shoulder.

  ‘Are you cold, Kandrigi?’ he asked on his fingers.

  Kandrigi shook his head rapidly. ‘It is a cold no clothing will cure, Lamla. It is deep within my bowels.’

  ‘You have my sympathy, Kandrigi.’

  ‘I am grateful for that, Lamla.’

  ‘Will you tell me now what happened to you?’

  ‘Do not press me, Lamla. Let it remain my secret. Let it die with me, for it would do you, or any man, no good to know it.’

  Lamla shook his head. ‘Do not talk of death, Kandrigi. You will rest and my priests will attend to you.’

  ‘You were always a good, patient friend, Lamla. I do not wish to grieve you, but my body grows as cold as a corpse.’

  Ma-Tin joined them and spoke to Lamla, pointedly ignoring Kandrigi. ‘I have found the star.'

  Lamla asked: ‘Are you sure? There are many stars in the sky.’

  ‘I am sure. It is now the brightest star.’

  Lamla told Kandrigi this news and led him to the tube. Kandrigi stooped and peered up the tube.

  ‘It has grows bigger, Lamla. I am certain of that.’

  He stood erect.

  Lamla addressed Ma-Tin: ‘Has it grown?’

  ‘It is brighter,’ Ma-Tin replied stiffly. ‘That this is due to increased size I do not know, for there is no way of knowing.

  ‘Ma-Tin says it is brighter, Kandrigi,’ Lamla said on his fingers, ‘but that this is no proof of increased size.’

  ‘We have traditions among my people as to the nature of the heavens. They say that brightness is an indication of distance from the earth.’ Kandrigi spoke slowly, his eyes intent upon the star.

  Ma-Tin’s retort was sharp when Lamla had translated Kandrigi’s reply.

  ‘There is no proof for such a tradition, besides, how would the stars remain at the various distance from the earth?’

  Lamla relayed this to Kandrigi.

  ‘I do not know, Ma-Tin. I am simply repeating an ancient tradition of the Briga.’

  ‘Pah, it is superstition,’ Ma-Tin spat out.

  Lamla did not relay this reply. Instead, he asked a question of his own: ‘You learned something tonight, Kandrigi, that persuades you to accept this old story?’

  ‘No, I have always believed it.’

  ‘Superstition,? Ma-Tin repeated, resentful because he was being ignored.

  ‘I will accept what you say, Kandrigi,’ Lamla spelled out on his fingers. ‘Come now and rest. You have seen the star, as you wished.’

  A figure appeared through the opening in the platform.

  He was dressed in the yellow robe of the observatory priests. His hair was not cut; it fell in dark waves on to his shoulders. His face was smooth, the colour of his skin that of the rising sun. Lamla greeted him warmly and took him by the hand and led him to Kandrigi. On his fingers he said simply:

  ‘Hepteidon.’

  Kandrigi bowed and then stared at the handsome young man. He saw that the eyes which returned his stare were green. About to speak, he was suddenly seized by a bolt of pain. He shut his eyes in agony. When the pain had passed he opened them again.

  All was black.

  ‘Lamla, help me, he said in a strangled voice, ‘I am blind. I cannot see.’

  Chapter Seven