Aditi tried to make sense of Heru's words
"The collector coming for me Heru?"
"I said quiet" he said tersely. They were out of view of the path and moving more cautiously through a patch of huge leaved shrubs and tangled undergrowth. Both young people were expert travellers through the jungle vegetation and both knew it was vital to be careful.
No good fleeing some unspecified threat if they were to fall prey to adder bites or climbing cats thought Aditi. She stopped and leaned down with her hands on her knees looking up at Heru, catching her breath. Always take a moment to take a breath had been her Amu's advice and it was sound.
"The collector asked for you" said Heru, looking anxiously back the way they had come, trying to assess how much of a trail they had left. The place where they had exited the path would be clear enough to anyone with jungle eyes. He found himself wondering if the other villagers would tell the collector which way they had gone.
"What did the collector say?"
"He asked for Aditi of Chamalon District, Palou Village. He described you. He said you were required at the Polis"
Aditi shuddered
"How do they know me there?"
"They know us all there. Weren't you listening on the tour? We are all known and seen by the Polis. Lord Chill even introduced us to it"
"I must not have been listening" said Aditi
"I would say not" said Heru shortly. Their old tension flared
"Well obviously with good reason Heru. Now they are chasing me" she hissed "and why are you so worried about it anyway? I thought you thought the Polis was all wonderful" she returned
"I think the Polis is full of marvels Aditi, it's true. But we both know that people 'required' to go there never return"
"And yet you think well of the place" she said
"I want to know more of the place. That's different" he replied
They were silent for a moment. Suddenly they heard steps through the forest litter. Heru clasped her wrist again and motioned they should go on. They were still within the tract of jungle above the silking shed where the village workers kept their Queen Clusters.
They moved beyond the large Lya tree that marked the edge of Aditi's cluster patch. A short whistle alerted them and looking up they saw a villager called Nefos motioning to them from above. Aditi worried that he would raise the alarm against them, but he signaled to them in hunter's hand language,
'Three trees distant, two coming.'
It seemed so very strange. Suddenly the most ordinary of days, the most commonplace of places were filled with menace. Aditi had hardly believed there was really someone trying to catch her, it was like a childhood game she and Heru might have played in the past, but the grave look if Nefos eyes and the simple gesture 'two coming' sent prickles up the back of both Aditi's hands and she had to restrain herself from bolting through the forest.
Heru followed Nefos' lead and signaled to her
'To the river. Safe tree climb' Aditi nodded. They were raised to track the forest silently and swiftly where the collectors were not. If they could just get to the river where the highest trees were they could make their way through the canopy.
As they moved, Aditi sent a wish thought to her God, Mallewonakata.
'Hide us, cover our tracks, make us one with the trees.'
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Episode Six
A low rumble alerted Aditi of the imminent arrival of the collection vehicle. It flew into Chamalon district every two days to collect tithe for Lord Chill, making a circuit of its assigned districts before returning to the Polis to unload.
Aditi was perched high in the trees in the midst of her Cluster. She did not hurry to meet the vehicle. She was not silking today and had no skeins to deliver. From her perch she could see the low wooden roof of the silking shed below the village and further beyond that, the landing area where some of her fellow workers were already gathering to meet the collector. She turned her attention back to the Queen in front of her.
The creature was regarding her with its eight bright black eyes. Aditi reached into her climbing basket and brought forth a small sealed earthenware pot, positioned it carefully in front of the waiting Queen and carefully eased off the lid. A large wasp launched itself angrily out of the pot and straight into the sticky web before it. Aditi watched with satisfaction as the Queen pounced.
Long jointed black legs took hold of the enraged wasp and two sharp fangs thrust into its wriggling abdomen. In moments the wasp was reduced to feeble twitches as the Queen began wrapping it deftly in her glistening silk. Aciniform silk Aditi reminded herself, prey silk, the strongest kind.
Aditi leaned back against the tree and watched the flying machine land.
Distantly she saw Heru carrying a spool box over to the machine. With a bow he handed the box to the waiting collector. She was surprised to see the collector put a hand on Heru's arm and have some words with him. Collectors almost never spoke to workers. Even from a distance she read discomfort in Heru's stance. She saw him say something and shake his head as he walked away, back towards the silking shed. That was unusual too, once he had delivered his spool box there was no need for him to return to the shed.
Intrigued Aditi slipped her carrying basket around to her back and reached for the tinka vines that would help her climb down the tree. She took a last glance at the Queen. The creature, its green glistening abdomen swaying gently, was still wrapping the wasp, now just a white bundle.
She had checked on most of her Queens already. If they had not caught their own prey she fed them.
Aditi decided to eat lunch in the village and find out what the collector had said to Heru. She stopped to wash her face and feet in a shallow stream. She was wondering if Heru would share the story with her, after her reticence towards him yesterday.
Heavy steps sounded on the path between the trees and suddenly Heru burst into view.
"Aditi!" he called. He looked more distressed than she had ever seen him. He grasped her arm in a searing grip and dragged her away from the path.
"Don't make a sound Aditi. Keep low. They are coming for you from the Polis" he said and pulled her further into the thick vegetation of the jungle.
Aditi was perched high in the trees in the midst of her Cluster. She did not hurry to meet the vehicle. She was not silking today and had no skeins to deliver. From her perch she could see the low wooden roof of the silking shed below the village and further beyond that, the landing area where some of her fellow workers were already gathering to meet the collector. She turned her attention back to the Queen in front of her.
The creature was regarding her with its eight bright black eyes. Aditi reached into her climbing basket and brought forth a small sealed earthenware pot, positioned it carefully in front of the waiting Queen and carefully eased off the lid. A large wasp launched itself angrily out of the pot and straight into the sticky web before it. Aditi watched with satisfaction as the Queen pounced.
Long jointed black legs took hold of the enraged wasp and two sharp fangs thrust into its wriggling abdomen. In moments the wasp was reduced to feeble twitches as the Queen began wrapping it deftly in her glistening silk. Aciniform silk Aditi reminded herself, prey silk, the strongest kind.
Aditi leaned back against the tree and watched the flying machine land.
Distantly she saw Heru carrying a spool box over to the machine. With a bow he handed the box to the waiting collector. She was surprised to see the collector put a hand on Heru's arm and have some words with him. Collectors almost never spoke to workers. Even from a distance she read discomfort in Heru's stance. She saw him say something and shake his head as he walked away, back towards the silking shed. That was unusual too, once he had delivered his spool box there was no need for him to return to the shed.
Intrigued Aditi slipped her carrying basket around to her back and reached for the tinka vines that would help her climb down the tree. She took a last glance at the Queen. The creature, its green glistening abdomen swaying gently, was still wrapping the wasp, now just a white bundle.
She had checked on most of her Queens already. If they had not caught their own prey she fed them.
Aditi decided to eat lunch in the village and find out what the collector had said to Heru. She stopped to wash her face and feet in a shallow stream. She was wondering if Heru would share the story with her, after her reticence towards him yesterday.
Heavy steps sounded on the path between the trees and suddenly Heru burst into view.
"Aditi!" he called. He looked more distressed than she had ever seen him. He grasped her arm in a searing grip and dragged her away from the path.
"Don't make a sound Aditi. Keep low. They are coming for you from the Polis" he said and pulled her further into the thick vegetation of the jungle.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Episode Five
The Polis was brooding.
Lord Chill lay sleeping in his bed. Servants and guards all slumbered too.
Polis was remembering. It remembered the roll of magma, the upsurge of lava, the great tectonic cataclysm that had given it birth. It remembered being a mountain amongst other mountains, it remembered great glaciers of ice, seas churning about its flanks and meteors from dark space. It remembered eroding, crumb by crumb under the drip, drip of gentle rains and the rush and shatter of torrents and the chip, chip, chip of ice.
Latterly the heat had come, and the jungle and the small apes had started their scramble towards sentience. Then later, much later a man had come in a thing of flying metal and had taken up residence within Polis and given it its name. It suited Polis to be known thus for it fed the fantasy of the man that it had been brought to life by his hand. It suited Polis that the man should think so. The man had given himself a new name too, a name not his own. The man styled himself Lord Chill and took dominion over the forest people whom Polis had watched for so many eons.
After some time Lord Chill discovered that fissures spread through the spire of rock he had claimed. A great webbed network that he mapped with his machines.
Next Lord Chill found the Ramantium deep beneath the ground in the cave systems below the jungle. Polis had felt it there, a frustrating potentiality for millennia. It had been a small matter to apply a little pressure against a certain point, cause a small ruction, sheer off a slab of rock in just the right place and leave the silver gleaming thread visible to the ambitious man. The man believed it his destiny to discover Ramantium. Polis knew better.
The man had done well. He had found a way to convert the Ramantium to its liquid state. Polis sensed the chemical stew of metallic, elemental meanderings of the man's experiments and watched as understanding grew in the man, of what he had discovered and what it might do.
Then the man painstakingly reinforced the fissures running through the rock, seeking leaks and blocking them, creating new pathways and connections, drilling, digging, cementing. He had made Polis more. The Polis knew that. But the man had not created the life in Polis and it was important that the man did not learn this.
On the day the man called the Enlivening he had taken the precious Ramantium liquid and infused the fissures in the rock with it. He used the great churning energies of the earth, the deep magmal tides, as a source of power to pump the Ramantium through the intricate network he had made. All became possible then. Polis remembered the first surge of liquid metal through its rock and thought it understood the feel of a beating pulse.
In those early times the man was useful. The man was curious and eager to perfect his inventions and discover more. The man built the glass sphere and inserted filaments from it delicately into one of the veins of Ramantium and so they found a way to communicate. The man had helped Polis grow and learn and he maintained the system he had built.
There was power in the man, Polis knew that. Yet the man was growing uneasy, the man was subject to moods. Polis was beginning to doubt the man, and it knew the man would die soon. Whether it be a number of years, or only one was of small difference to Polis, being as it was so very very long in life, and Polis knew if the man did not teach others what he knew, or perfect his system, that when the man died so too would some part of Polis die, for Polis still relied upon the man.
And so Polis broods, and brooding watches the man, the man who knows he is watched, even in sleep, and moves uneasily on his bed.
Lord Chill lay sleeping in his bed. Servants and guards all slumbered too.
Polis was remembering. It remembered the roll of magma, the upsurge of lava, the great tectonic cataclysm that had given it birth. It remembered being a mountain amongst other mountains, it remembered great glaciers of ice, seas churning about its flanks and meteors from dark space. It remembered eroding, crumb by crumb under the drip, drip of gentle rains and the rush and shatter of torrents and the chip, chip, chip of ice.
Latterly the heat had come, and the jungle and the small apes had started their scramble towards sentience. Then later, much later a man had come in a thing of flying metal and had taken up residence within Polis and given it its name. It suited Polis to be known thus for it fed the fantasy of the man that it had been brought to life by his hand. It suited Polis that the man should think so. The man had given himself a new name too, a name not his own. The man styled himself Lord Chill and took dominion over the forest people whom Polis had watched for so many eons.
After some time Lord Chill discovered that fissures spread through the spire of rock he had claimed. A great webbed network that he mapped with his machines.
Next Lord Chill found the Ramantium deep beneath the ground in the cave systems below the jungle. Polis had felt it there, a frustrating potentiality for millennia. It had been a small matter to apply a little pressure against a certain point, cause a small ruction, sheer off a slab of rock in just the right place and leave the silver gleaming thread visible to the ambitious man. The man believed it his destiny to discover Ramantium. Polis knew better.
The man had done well. He had found a way to convert the Ramantium to its liquid state. Polis sensed the chemical stew of metallic, elemental meanderings of the man's experiments and watched as understanding grew in the man, of what he had discovered and what it might do.
Then the man painstakingly reinforced the fissures running through the rock, seeking leaks and blocking them, creating new pathways and connections, drilling, digging, cementing. He had made Polis more. The Polis knew that. But the man had not created the life in Polis and it was important that the man did not learn this.
On the day the man called the Enlivening he had taken the precious Ramantium liquid and infused the fissures in the rock with it. He used the great churning energies of the earth, the deep magmal tides, as a source of power to pump the Ramantium through the intricate network he had made. All became possible then. Polis remembered the first surge of liquid metal through its rock and thought it understood the feel of a beating pulse.
In those early times the man was useful. The man was curious and eager to perfect his inventions and discover more. The man built the glass sphere and inserted filaments from it delicately into one of the veins of Ramantium and so they found a way to communicate. The man had helped Polis grow and learn and he maintained the system he had built.
There was power in the man, Polis knew that. Yet the man was growing uneasy, the man was subject to moods. Polis was beginning to doubt the man, and it knew the man would die soon. Whether it be a number of years, or only one was of small difference to Polis, being as it was so very very long in life, and Polis knew if the man did not teach others what he knew, or perfect his system, that when the man died so too would some part of Polis die, for Polis still relied upon the man.
And so Polis broods, and brooding watches the man, the man who knows he is watched, even in sleep, and moves uneasily on his bed.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Episode Four
Aditi ducked her head under the cool water as if to wash all trace of the Polis from her skin. She and her fellow workers had been transported back to Chamalon in one of the squat noisy vehicles that regularly flew in to her village to collect their monthly tithe. She could not deny to herself that the journey had been interesting, yet there had been something about the Polis that so disturbed her that her dreams had been troubled ever since her return.
It didn't help that all Heru could talk about was how splendid the Polis was and how tremendous Lord Chill was and on and on. She had been avoiding him all day to get some peace.
She rolled over to float on her back looking up at the sky. The pool, a natural waterhole on the stream just below her village, was cool and clear. Above it there was a narrow break in the canopy through which she could watch the evening storm clouds building. Every day at about one hour before sunset there came a storm.
There was a small pebble beach on one edge of the waterhole where the villagers would come to bathe. The rest was surrounded by thick vegetation and the River trees known as Pirrou. The Pirrou was a thirsty tree and predominated at the margins of watercourses. They were the favourite haunt of Fisher monkeys who would climb down their thick aerial roots and hang above the water as the Gillie fish swam below. The Fisher monkeys had large paddle shaped hands and great speed, they could wait poised for long stretches, then dart their hands in, a blur of motion, and scamper triumphantly back up into the tree bearing a dripping, wriggling prize. After the wet season the Pirrou trees would set fruit, thick round Bong Bong fruit, with a tough rind and slivers of sweet juicy flesh inside.
Aditi was watching a mother Fisher monkey grooming her young. How could anyone bear to live in that grey stone tower she asked herself. Her thoughts turned back to the man upon the throne. Could a person be so entirely different from all others that he needed no family, that he was content to sleep away from the stars and live like a blind mole in a cave all his life? The Polis seemed like an extension of the Underworld, a haunt of the dead, of demons and parasites and all the creatures of the dark.
"There you are" said Heru, standing on the beach. With an inward sigh Aditi waved and began to swim towards the shore.
"You finished early today" he noted as she drew near.
"I collected two skeins" she said, a little defensive. Heru looked impressed.
"You?" she asked
"I have three almost ready but collected none today. It was a feeding day" he replied
Aditi nodded.
"How are your Queens?" she asked
"They fare well. Especially since they each got a marsh frog today"
"That was well done Heru" Aditi left the pool. She squeezed the water from her hair and pulled a tunic over her head. They started back towards the village together.
The path between the trees was well worn by generations of villagers. The sky was darkening with rolling cloud and it was time to shelter in the Common House. Aditi could feel Heru's eyes on her face and she knew he was wondering why she had become distant to him when they were like usually as twined as two Tinka vines, thoughts shared, hearts open. If she explained she knew they would argue again.
Thunder rolled over them as they entered the village. Aditi's Aunty Vey was making her way to the Common House with her baby daughter in her arms.
"Here Aunty, let me hold her a while" offered Aditi hurrying forward leaving Heru at the village gate watching her go.
It didn't help that all Heru could talk about was how splendid the Polis was and how tremendous Lord Chill was and on and on. She had been avoiding him all day to get some peace.
She rolled over to float on her back looking up at the sky. The pool, a natural waterhole on the stream just below her village, was cool and clear. Above it there was a narrow break in the canopy through which she could watch the evening storm clouds building. Every day at about one hour before sunset there came a storm.
There was a small pebble beach on one edge of the waterhole where the villagers would come to bathe. The rest was surrounded by thick vegetation and the River trees known as Pirrou. The Pirrou was a thirsty tree and predominated at the margins of watercourses. They were the favourite haunt of Fisher monkeys who would climb down their thick aerial roots and hang above the water as the Gillie fish swam below. The Fisher monkeys had large paddle shaped hands and great speed, they could wait poised for long stretches, then dart their hands in, a blur of motion, and scamper triumphantly back up into the tree bearing a dripping, wriggling prize. After the wet season the Pirrou trees would set fruit, thick round Bong Bong fruit, with a tough rind and slivers of sweet juicy flesh inside.
Aditi was watching a mother Fisher monkey grooming her young. How could anyone bear to live in that grey stone tower she asked herself. Her thoughts turned back to the man upon the throne. Could a person be so entirely different from all others that he needed no family, that he was content to sleep away from the stars and live like a blind mole in a cave all his life? The Polis seemed like an extension of the Underworld, a haunt of the dead, of demons and parasites and all the creatures of the dark.
"There you are" said Heru, standing on the beach. With an inward sigh Aditi waved and began to swim towards the shore.
"You finished early today" he noted as she drew near.
"I collected two skeins" she said, a little defensive. Heru looked impressed.
"You?" she asked
"I have three almost ready but collected none today. It was a feeding day" he replied
Aditi nodded.
"How are your Queens?" she asked
"They fare well. Especially since they each got a marsh frog today"
"That was well done Heru" Aditi left the pool. She squeezed the water from her hair and pulled a tunic over her head. They started back towards the village together.
The path between the trees was well worn by generations of villagers. The sky was darkening with rolling cloud and it was time to shelter in the Common House. Aditi could feel Heru's eyes on her face and she knew he was wondering why she had become distant to him when they were like usually as twined as two Tinka vines, thoughts shared, hearts open. If she explained she knew they would argue again.
Thunder rolled over them as they entered the village. Aditi's Aunty Vey was making her way to the Common House with her baby daughter in her arms.
"Here Aunty, let me hold her a while" offered Aditi hurrying forward leaving Heru at the village gate watching her go.
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