Fire World

  “Those that need to leave at this point, will.”

  “Leave?”

  “It’s part of their program of survival and the people’s, too — to return to the land, where they can thrive.”

  “That’s the Dead Lands they’re going to. There’s nothing out there.”

  David squinted at Alavon’s kind green slopes. “They’ll have water. And there are lots of willing hands on the boats. The followers are looking to the ark for guidance. It just needs someone to show them the way.” He reached out and stroked the unicorn’s neck.

  “Me?” Rosa said, pointing to herself.

  “I want to mark this occasion with an image the people in the boats won’t forget. We both know Terrafonne is quite a performer.”

  Rosa guided the white horse farther onto the bridge and looked around at the bobbing boats. Nearly all had a lens trained on the ark. “You could always waddle ashore in your ice bear form and show them some flakes of … what was it you called that white stuff?”

  “Snow.”

  “That would be pretty.”

  “It would, but it wouldn’t be right. It’s not time for Co:pern:ica to learn about ice — or the bears just yet. And,” he stressed, before she could follow up the point, “this will launch my idea about the books.”

  “Go on,” she said, “I’m all ears.”

  “How many firebirds were you able to call?”

  “A few.” She pointed to the upper decks. Several hundred were perched on the rails.

  “Perfect.”

  “For what?”

  He looked into her spirited eyes and smiled. Despite the air of indifference, he knew she was curious. He raked his fingers through Terrafonne’s mane and said, “Do you remember how Mr. Henry used to tell us that books were our truest, most dedicated friends? How one well-written passage of words could not only melt the heart of a reader but stay with them forever?”

  “Of course I do,” she said. Her gaze began to soften as her eyes grew moist.

  “I think if the circumstances were right, Mr. Henry would have liked everyone on Co:pern:ica to experience that feeling. We could start it, Rosa. Here. On the waters of Alavon. Today.”

  “Start what?” she said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Start sharing the books.”

  “Sharing them? How?”

  “We ask the firebirds to pick them up and fly them to the boats —”

  “David, don’t be dumb. We’d lose them all.”

  “Not as gifts, as loans,” he said, “to be read and brought back and freely exchanged for others. In that way, the books belong to the librarium and to the people. And the really sweet part is this: As the people return them, you’ll be able to put them in order and keep them in order — until they’re ready to go out again.”

  “Me?” she said. “What are you going to do?”

  David smiled and thought about the claw in his pocket. “I’m going to write new books,” he said.

  Over the next few days, a steady stream of animals disembarked just as David had predicted and began to meander across the land. There was no selection process. Those that chose to go simply stepped onto the bridge or flew across the water or, if they were already in the water, swam away from the vessel. None, Harlan noticed, climbed the hill where the tower stood and the beacon still burned. But it gave him an enormous sense of pleasure to watch two animals that Penny described as “cows” grazing on one of the bright green fields.

  Many boats, by now, had moored themselves at imagineered jetties or been driven aground by the lapping tide. And thanks to Rosa, who had ridden Terrafonne ashore in a spectacular leap full of rainbows and stars, people were testing the land as well, following her to Alavon in small parties. By the afternoon of the third day, the first simple dwelling place had sprouted from the minds of those able to imagine a life among the minimal crops they’d found. For Mathew Lefarr, this was difficult to watch. The more he saw of the infant colony, the more he knew he ought to be a part of it. And so, at a carefully selected moment, he approached his fellow travelers and made an announcement: “Friends, I will be leaving you here.”

  “Oh, Mathew!” said Eliza.

  “What?” said Penny, who looked as if a limb had been torn from her body.

  Even Rosa cast her eyes down.

  He raised a hand before anyone else could speak. “I’m going to go ashore. Much of my time in the Dead Lands was invested in making the Isle of Alavon a comfortable place to live. This is a new and exciting development. It casts no reflection on any of you when I say I want to be part of it. There is probably about a minit before the ark moves on and one of you tries to change my mind. So I will wish you all safe travels and slip away before the drawbridge lifts. Come and find me when your journey is done. Wherever I make my home, any of you will be welcome in it.”

  Penny rushed forward and clamped her arms around him.

  “Be a good friend to the animals,” he whispered. “One day, I’ll breed you a goat.” (Out of all the many animals they’d logged, the goats were Penny’s favorite.) He planted a kiss on the top of her head before moving her into Eliza’s care. He shook hands firmly with Harlan and Bernard, both of whom were swift to pledge their allegiance to any just cause he might fight for again. He turned next to Rosa. Poor Rosa, she had no idea what to do. She liked Mathew, though she had made a deep secret of it. She admired his honesty and hard work and plain-speaking ways. True, she had hardly said a kind word to him, but that was because his good looks unnerved her. She stepped forward and offered her hand (from a distance). He picked it up and kissed it. She almost melted.

  And lastly there was David. No doubt everyone present expected a brief, if well-meant, thank-you from the son of Harlan Merriman before he all but imagineered Mathew to a distant place. Instead, David asked Lefarr to stay. This might have been taken as a gesture of friendship were it not for the slight cut of authority in his voice. When challenged, David would only say that the ark had gathered Mathew in and a greater purpose awaited him. Harlan, well aware of Mathew’s disappointment and David’s abruptness (and the creak of the closing drawbridge), drew his son aside and quietly asked him to reconsider. The argument was weak, he said. Mathew had an independent, pioneering spirit. It was poignant that he should desire to have a foothold in the reborn farmlands of Alavon. There was no better place for him to form a new tribe. Also, on a more personal level, surely David had noticed the way Mathew admired Rosa? Granted, he had made no move on the girl for he clearly saw her fondness for David. But it was a possible source of tension all the same. Mathew was young, intelligent, and not exactly “unhandsome.” Even Penny, of all people, had remarked as much.

  David accepted this advice, which he knew was well intended, but then revealed to his father the real reason he had asked Lefarr to stay. He described the missing detail from the Tapestry of Isenfier. Mathew, he said, was the man seen standing in the corner — with Penny.

  Harlan turned away, angry that this had been kept from him. “Penny?” he hissed. “She’s part of the battle?”

  “Yes,” David said.

  Harlan closed ranks again. “Have you found the tapestry?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Have you completed the drawing?”

  “No, not quite.”

  “When it’s done, promise me you’ll show it to me, David.”

  “Yes,” David said. “Yes, I promise.”

  And Harlan gritted his teeth and walked away.

  And so Mathew, along with the Merriman family, and Bernard Brotherton, and the beautiful Rosa, stayed with the ark as it journeyed around Co:pern:ica, shedding its animals. Mathew, to his credit (and Rosa’s further admiration), did not question David’s decision but simply accepted that his future, for now, was tied up with this journey. He helped out where he could — even cooked sometimes — and played games with Penny (who clearly adored him), and chatted with Eliza while she continued to explore her creative gifts, and aided Bernard in hi
s quest to harvest the sticky-sweet foodstuff his bees were producing, and spoke of universal mysteries as he walked the decks with Harlan, and even monitored the stationary Aunt Gwyneth now and then.

  And sometimes, when a chance presented itself, he would find himself in a room of books, working on the scheme that David had suggested. All this time, under Rosa’s instruction, the firebirds had been faithfully distributing the books and had now reached the stage of bringing some back when they returned from a drop. Sometimes notes would accompany them.

  Thank you, this story has enriched my life.

  Do you have anything on weather?

  Is it possible to come aboard and browse?

  One afternoon, Rosa was cataloguing a number of returns when Mathew suddenly burst out laughing.

  “What?” she said. He was across the room, reading a note.

  “You’ve received a proposal. Someone wants to marry you.”

  “What? Don’t be silly.”

  “Honestly, it’s real.” He came a little closer and showed it to her. In a striking hand it said, To the pretty book girl. Will you marry me? “You’ve been spotted in someone’s eyeglass,” he said.

  She cocked her head and thrust the note into his chest. “Very funny.”

  “What?” he laughed. “You don’t think I wrote it?”

  She looped her hair behind her ears and went back to her work.

  For a moment there was silence. Then the floor echoed several times to his footsteps and he went to stand by a window, looking out. “If I had written it, what would be your answer?”

  She put down her book. “Mathew …”

  “I’m serious. When I go back to Alavon, you could come with me.”

  “And break Penny’s heart?” she said, trying to keep the conversation light.

  “I’d look after you,” he said. “I could build us a home.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. She knew this. She did. Sometimes when she looked out on the land, she thought of it. A life elsewhere. A life with Mathew. “It wouldn’t be the same,” she said.

  “As the ark? Why not? We could have books there. We could build a new librarium.”

  She raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were glazed with tears. “I know,” she said, “but we couldn’t have David.”

  A sea of thoughts hovered between them. And then he simply accepted her statement with the quiet grace she expected of him. And had they not been separated by an awkward arrangement of chairs and books and the corner of a table, she might even have run to him with a hug of consolation. As it happened, he was the one to suddenly become animated. He backed away from the window and set off for the door.

  “What’s the matter?” Rosa said.

  “There’s a stranger coming up the bridge.”

  He was gone before she could reach the window. And that space was quickly filled by a firebird anyway. “Runcey!” she gasped. (In times of excitement, this was always his name.)

  The emerald green bird sat up brightly.

  Rrrh! he said to her. Strømberg is here.

  6.

  Thorren Strømberg joined the ark when the last of the animals (two goofy-looking creatures with huge tails and enormous silly feet), had just walked (or rather bounced) onto the parched yellow soil at a landmass called Ozralia. Mathew challenged him on the bridge. Throughout their journey, no one had attempted to board the ark or even formally communicate with it. Yet here came this tall, wild-haired man striding up the walkway as if he owned the whole thing.

  “Mathew, it’s all right, let him on.” David patted the young man’s shoulder as he stepped past to greet their visitor.

  Strømberg opened his arms and welcomed David with a hug befitting a bear. He looked up at the enormous vessel and said, “Now I see what your dreams were truly made of.” And together they strolled aboard.

  Whether it was due to his counseling skills or his general charismatic demeanor, Strømberg quickly became a unifying presence. David took him first to see Aunt Gwyneth. The dead Aunt, still attended by the guarding firebirds, was, as expected, unchanged. David told the full story of their conflict, including her attempt to attack the Is and her ambiguous parting message. Strømberg took it in but made no comment. He approved of what had been done, he said, and would make arrangements for the disposal of the body. The casket could now be closed.

  After a short tour of the boat, chairs were arranged on a shaded lower deck and everyone gathered to hear what news the counselor had. Harlan was eager to know what the people of Co:pern:ica were making of the ark.

  “They see it as a miracle,” Strømberg said.

  “What’s a ‘miracle’?” asked Penny.

  “An old word for a spectacular phenomenon,” said Bernard. A bee was crawling on his nearly bald head. That was the kind of phenomenon Penny liked.

  Mathew put a glass of water on the deck. He had made his peace very quickly with Strømberg and was stoically showing no emotion toward Rosa. “Is there panic in the community? Disorder? Chaos?”

  “Far from it,” the counselor replied. He sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “The ark is being seen as a gift from the Higher, a gesture of extreme benevolence. There’s a genuine sense of excitement in the air. People may have lost their homes and their routines — and some of their ability to imagineer — but their minds are opening up to fresh possibilities.”

  Eliza leaned forward and said, “Thorren, did anyone die in the flood?”

  “I’ve heard of no reported cases,” he said. “That, of course, just adds to the wonder.”

  “And the Aunts?” asked Harlan, pacing around with his hands in his pockets.

  “Re:structuring — for the better, I might add. Just before the librarium transformed, I circulated the rumor of wrongdoing there and named Gwyneth and her followers as the perpetrators. The story was still growing when the waters came and the ark appeared. The timing could not have been better. People initially saw the boat as an angry response from the Higher. At that point they really did fear for their lives. Since then, as I’ve said, their perception has changed and the quiet revolution we’ve all been hoping for has begun to happen. A young Aunt named Agetha quickly came to prominence and introduced a number of altruistic changes. Thanks to her, confidence in the Aunt network is slowly being restored.”

  “David,” said Harlan, coming to sit, “I think it’s time you told Thorren, and the others, about the tapestry.”

  “Tapestry?” said Eliza.

  David let his eyes come to rest on his mother, who realized immediately what was wanted of her. “Penny, let’s go for a walk,” she said.

  “Now?” said the girl.

  “I could do with some air.”

  “We’re in the air!”

  “Now, Penny.”

  The girl stood up, pouting furiously. “You’re going to talk about … secret stuff, aren’t you?” She frowned harshly at her brother who said, “I’ll come and read to you later.”

  But even that sweet promise couldn’t lighten Penny’s mood. Slamming a hand against the midriff of a bemused Mathew, she stomped away ahead of her mother.

  David imagineered a low table and asked the others to gather around. He unrolled a piece of paper and pinned it at both ends by imagineered weights. On it was a detailed drawing of the Tapestry of Isenfier. Rosa folded her arms and felt her mouth grow dry. All of a sudden, Ozralia felt awfully chilly.

  “This is a reproduction,” David said, “drawn from memory, of a tapestry Rosa and I found on Floor One Hundred and Eight of the old librarium. Generations of firebirds have protected the original. Ironically, I can’t show it to you because we can’t find it, but I think I can tell you what it means and who the people are.” He pointed them out. “Me, Rosa, Mathew —”

  “Me?” said Lefarr. He sat up, looking shocked.

  David nodded. “Yes, with a teenage Penny. The kneeling child in the foreground is Angel.”

  “What’s she’s holding?” Bernard asked
.

  “A small dragon,” David said.

  “This is a battle scene,” Strømberg muttered, carefully running his gaze over it.

  “It’s called Isenfier,” Harlan said, sounding grim. “And it’s happening — or rather not happening — somewhere in time, on another world.”

  “On the opposite side of your rift, I imagine?” Strømberg raised his eyes toward David.

  David nodded. “Aunt Gwyneth called it Earth.”

  “Not happening?” Bernard repeated. “You mean there’s an inter:rupt in the continuum?”

  Harlan said, “David, show Thorren the claw.”

  David pulled it from his pocket. “The dragon in the tapestry is holding this — or something equally as powerful. It’s writing an ancient symbol, capable of suspending the time point.”

  “But how are we involved?” Mathew said. “I mean, we’re here, not there.”

  “Dad?” David said. “Do you want to explain?”

  Harlan blew a short breath. “I’ll try. Time, as you know, is a strange concept. Though it may appear to us that it always advances in a linear fashion, we can’t really prove it. That feeling of moving forward may be nothing more than an intuitive notion. Some theorists even suggest that what we perceive as the past, the present, and the future are gathered into one eternal ‘now.’”

  “Which is constantly changing,” Bernard chipped in.

  “Quite,” said Harlan. “This means there may be infinite possibilities to the course of our lives, which supports the idea that we might exist in alternative realities, on the same time point. Hence the battle is happening or not happening.” (A confused Rosa shook her head and walked away.) Harlan went on: “It’s important to understand that the people represented on the tapestry are not the David, Rosa, and Mathew gathered here, even though they may look like them, but probable variations of them. The truly interesting character, of course, is the dragon.”

  Strømberg hummed in thought. “Given that your theories are correct, why would this dragon suspend this particular incident in time?”