Dark Universe

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I guess I was wrong, Jared. It’s not really all that horrible. And, besides, I think maybe the monsters might be trying to help us after all.”

There was a quality to Leah’s thoughts that had been noticeably absent the last few times she had made contact. Now her unspoken words were calm, ordered. It was as though Thorndyke, after somehow breaking her resistance, had established complete control and was using the woman as a lure, Jared imagined.

“No, Jared — it’s not like that at all. At least, I don’t think so. I’m sure they’re not making me do this.”

If they were, Jared assured himself, then the monsters were even more treacherous than he had imagined.

“They may not be monsters at all,” she went on. “They really haven’t hurt me, except to force my eyes open to the light. And I’ve been in contact with Ethan. He’s not afraid at all! He even thinks they’re good.”

Jared rolled over and, though still more asleep than awake, recalled that he had fallen exhausted somewhere out among the low, thick growth of infinity.

“Ethan is satisfied,” she oflered, “because he can get around without help from me, without even having to use his pouch of crickets for echoes. He says he doesn’t have to hear when he can see what’s before him.”

A startling sound erupted somewhere above him and Jared stiffened against the coarse, damp ground. Even though it had been frightening at first, there was a strange enchantment to the trio of sharp, shrill notes that filled infinity with a plaintive pride and forced back the audible emptiness.

“Don’t be afraid,” Leah encouraged, evidently having heard the beautiful tones through his ears. “i’ve listened to it many times. It was one of the things that finally made me decide this can’t be Radiation.”

“What is it?” he asked as he listened again to the piercingly sweet succession of high, low, and medium notes.

“It’s a winged animal — a bird.” Then, as she detected his apprehension, “No — nothing like a soubat. It’s a small delicate thing. Ethan says it’s one of the original creatures of infinity — the ‘outside world,’ he calls it — that managed to survive.”

When he said nothing she went on, “It’s what they call ‘night’ out there now. But it’ll end soon and day will return. Ethan says they have to find you before Hydrogen comes up.”

He was aware of a persistent itching, a stinging along his shoulders and back. It was not an intense sensation, but it was disturbing enough to bring him completely and uncomfortably awake.

He opened his eyes and his fingers dug tensely into the soft earth.

There was no great fury of light all around him as there had been before! Now there was only a softness which was pleasing to the eye and drove home the welcome realization that things didn’t have to be all light or darkness out here, that there could be an in-between.

The three distinct notes sounded again and he caught their subtle reflections from the stems of the Paradise plants that reared all around him. But out there above the lacy tops of the plants — “trees,” he reminded himself — the entrancing notes lost themselves in the vastness overhead.

And now, as his eyes bored out beyond those fragile tree tops, he saw a great disc of cool light that was both like and unlike the sun. It was the same size as the latter. But, whereas Hydrogen was as furious as the sound of a thousand roaring cataracts, this sphere was gentle and captivating, bringing to mind the winsome notes of the winged creature.

His eyes swept the great dome covering this infinity and, breathless, he gave up trying to count the lively little points of light that danced around up there and became stronger or weaker as he studied them.

Beyond and between the gay motes of the dome was a somber darkness that reminded him of the corridors and worlds in which he had spent all his life up until now. But the fascinating bits of light were so elegant that the eye found little time to concern itself with the intervening darkness.

A world without a material boundary, save for the flat ground underneath him. And, enclosing that world, not an infinity of rocks and mud, but an infinity of semidarkness enlivened by pleasant points and a graceful disc of light — at the moment. At other times, it was an infinity of bold, loud light dominated by a great, harsh thing called the “sun.”

“A new kind of infinity,” Caseman had said.

And indeed it was. A new kind of infinity with tremendous, novel concepts — so different that the language he knew couldn’t begin to contain it.

Despite his restrained sense of wonder, he could not hold back a feeling of despair. Now, with the light around him less intense than it had ever been since he was brought to this outside world, he knew he could never again tolerate the pitch darkness of the passages and Levels. He drew back from himself, surprised over the frank admission that he hadn’t the courage to return to his familiar worlds. Did that mean he would have to stay out here among the incomprehensible things of infinity for the rest of his life?

“I’m afraid so, Jared.” Leah’s silent words were a sober affirmation. “i’ve — looked into many minds during this last period. Most of us realize the inner worlds are a thing of the past.”

He sat up sharply. If he was receiving Leah’s thoughts while he was awake, then she couldn’t be too far from him! But before he could question her, he became almost painfully aware of the irritating sensation along his shoulders and arms. And when he scratched the skin there it felt as though it were boiling.

The bird shrilled its blithesome notes again and he listened to the mellow tones impart their esthetic quality to the pleasant things before his eyes. It was all charming, this bizarre setting — not beautiful in the way that fine sound appealed to the ear, but gracious in the sensations of form and shape and the variations of light and darkness that came to his eyes.

He became gradually conscious, however, of a disturbing element out there in infinity and he turned his head apprehensively toward it. One section of the dome, far out beyond the tree tops, was casting off its darkness. An even flow of light was creeping up from the ground to swallow the points of light that were already up there.

Leah had implied that the present period of “night” was only temporary, that Hydrogen would be back to cast his fury of light over everything. Could this be the end of the calm phase he had been experiencing?

He rose, trembling, and backed away from the lightsmeared portion of the dome, forcing his way through the low growth.

But he started and his head snapped to the right as he saw another kind of light out there between the stems of the Paradise plants — a swinging cone that could only signify the approach of Thorndyke or one of his other captors!

From overhead the sharp notes of the bird stabbed once more into the semilight and Jared tried desperately to sort out the returning echoes. But, besides hearing that there were actually four persons hidden in the void behind the light cone, he could squeeze no details out of the reflected sound.

He ducked back down into the thick growth, listening intensely to the group draw closer and hoping that the minor plants around him would prevent the light impressions from betraying his presence.

A breeze sprung up and he tensed as all the lacy plant tops as far as he could hear began whispering and swaying. Coming generally from the direction in which he was facing, the gently moving air currents brought the scents of his pursuers.

Thomdyke was among them, which in itself wasn’t surprising. Even though he had been in the presence of the man only once before, he easily recognized his personal odor.

But mingled with that scent were three other unmistakable ones—.

Ethan!

Owen!

Della!

He could believe that these beings of infinity had had plenty of time to bend Owen and Ethan to their purpose. But certainly not Della! She had been out here only half a period longer than he!

“The girl’s a Zivver, Jared,” Leah pointed out. “She must understand these things much more easily than you or I.”

Ignoring the unsolicited thoughts, he backed off through the low plants, making as little noise as possible. On his left, more light had splashed itself against the distant dome and he was certain now that he was seeing the imminent coming of the dreadful sun.

“Jared, don’t run off — please! Stay where you are!”

It was Ethan’s thoughts, relayed by Leah, that intruded on his conscious this time. That could only mean Ethan and Leah and even Thorndyke must be working together!

“Yes, Jared,” she admitted. “I helped Ethan reach you. He knows what’s best. He says that if they don’t get you back in the shack soon you’re going to be sick.”

“No, not Radiation sickness,” Ethan quickly assured. “Sickness from being in the sunlight too long without being used to it. And other ailments too — ailments Thorndyke wants to protect you from.”

Then Ethan’s voice came audibly, in an aside that obviously hadn’t been intended for Jared’s ears: “He’s right up there — in that thicket.”

Jared sprang from concealment and hesitated for a moment while the intense light from Thorndyke’s caster stabbed into his eyes and prevented him from seeing anything else. Then he whirled to lunge away.

“You wanted to find light, didn’t you?” Owen called out sharply. “And now that you’ve found it you’re acting like a squeamish old woman.”

Pausing uncertainly, Jared listened to the familiar voice that he hadn’t heard in many periods — since before the monsters had crossed the Barrier. But it was what Owen had said, rather than the surprise of hearing his voice, that had had the arresting effect.

It was true. He had spent his whole life searching for light. And all along he had allowed for the possibility that, when he found it, it might be completely unnatural, utterly incomprehensible, frightening.

He had found it. But he had only quailed and tried to hide from his own discovery.

Maybe this infinity — this outside world — might not be so terrifying if he would only give himself the chance to understand it.

“I could shoot you an injection from here.” It was Thorndyke’s calm voice that reached out to him through the semiight. “But I’m counting on you to respond to reason.”

Yet, as the steady cone of light advanced, Jared backed involuntarily away from it.

His skin was irritating him persistently now and he felt a grimace spread over his face as his hands went up to rub the boiling surface of his arms and shoulders.

“Don’t let it bother you too much,” Owen laughed reassuringly. “You’re just having your first run-in with sunburn. We’ll fix it up if you’ll just come back.”

Then, as though aware of what was in his mind, Thorndyke said, “Of course there are things you don’t understand. Just as there are things about this outside world not even we know.”

The light cone stabbed beyond the tenuous tree tops. “Fee instance,” Thorndyke’s voice followed the motion of the light caster, “we don’t know what’s out there. And, when we find out, we still won’t know what’s beyond it all. Infinity’s still infinity — in your cave world as well as in this one. Eternity’s eternity. Those are some of the barriers, some of the unknowables.”

Somehow Jared didn’t feel as helpless, as insignificant as he once had before these beings of the outside world. Thorndyke had called the sprawling region within that towering wall of rock and earth a “cave world.” But, in many respects, this greater creation was merely a greater cave. One that also had a dome and an infinity beyond that dome and a curtain of darkness separating all the knowable from all the unknowable.

A figure stepped boldly into the cone of light — a tiny human figure. But he wasn’t alarmed. He knew it would grow in size as it approached — until it reached normal proportions.

Calmly now, he watched the figure advance, briefly aware that a light greater than that coming from Thorndyke’s caster was falling upon it. This could only be the light which was intensifying along the edge of the dome behind him.

Another breeze rippled and whispered through the Paradise trees and the personal scent of Della came along with it, clear and strong.

“I don’t understand any of these things either,” she said, advancing, “but I’m willing to wait and ziv what happens.”

And a satisfying realizatjon unfolded against the background of his current experience: Zivving and seeing were so much alike that, out here, the physical difference between him and Della was negligible. There was no longer any reason for him to feel inferior.

His attention remained steadily on her as she came closer. Overhead, the bird sang its delightful song and the poignant beauty of the refrain strengthened the appreciation his eyes felt for the girl as she drew up before him.

The delicate, refined impressions he was receiving of Della struck him as being soft as the music of the melodious stones, vibrant like the mighty voice of a great waterfall muffled into modesty by distance.

She extended her hand and he clasped it.

“We’ll stay out here and see what happens — together,” Jared said, heading back toward Thorndyke and the others.