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the tail of the bird to the tiny chamber back of the great goggle eyes, still unlidded as he had seen them
from outside. Here he had peered out and over the yet partially opened beak, and, by pulling a lever
attached to an enormous replica of the belt weapon which he had appropriated, had seen the lightning
crash into the sea, lashing the stagnant weed with crackling flames.
This was the manner of it, then, but where was the operator, his unknown savior? Not in the laddered
neck which led down again to the room of the foun-tain, nor in the larger room he had first entered. He
took the other corridor to the left, which wound down and around that room to a lower level.
Here were darker chambers, though illumined by a lambent shimmering inherent hi all the walls. Forward,
in the breast of the bird, was a large cargo compartment crammed with chests of flexible paper-thin metal
which would not tear or be cut by sword edge. They opened easily when he tugged gently upon a small
tab which he found was always situated in the upper right-hand corners. Air hissed inward when he
opened them, proving that they had been hermetically sealed.
These stores were the saving of him. In some chests he found dried fruits, hi others a thick meaty paste,
almost like pemmican. This was savory and good. Whatever the chest might hold, it needed only water to
make the food swell into a tasty meal. In those three days he had learned to recognize the symbols which
distinguished the two articles of food and although he felt sure that other edible substances were yet to be
found, these alone were ample for his needs.
He discovered heat hi the galley, by accidentally leaning against a wall stud; almost at once, a grid of coils
set in a metal box against the wall had begun glowing red. Above this radiant heat he did his simple
cooking, in pots of unfamiliar shape, eating with his fingers and knife from dishes such as he had never
seen.
Water came from pipes in the wall, fed, he was sure, from the reservoir upon the floor above, where the
little fountain constantly played without ever filling the catch basin to overflowing.
Centrally, below the water line, were machines, and here Gwalchmai was entirely bewildered. He
guessed that their purpose was to propel the ship through the water, for he could trace massive rods and
levers from their first connections to the legs of the immense swan. Suspecting that, before the wing
outside had been injured, this craft might have flown in the manner he had seen in the murals, he had
verified this thought by further research. Other rods eccentrically wrought and bent to meet the shoulders
from which those pinions hung proved his theory correct, but he remained mystified, unable to guess what
power motivated the ship.
This room of machines was a room of dread. It was filled with a buzzing, a humming, which occasionally
took on the very timbre of a snarl which issued from deep within the maze of wheels, levers and cogs.
When this happened, Merlin s ring, which he still wore, became warm upon his finger. He did not know
the cause, but he intuitively felt it to be a warning of danger and felt himself threatened. Occasionally also,
fat blue sparks spat between metal and metal, without apparent reason, shaking his edgy nerves as he
tiptoed cautiously about the room. He saw beneath his feet the little fish darting beyond the plates of
metal, which here were quite transparent. He touched nothing, though his devouring curiosity compelled
him to slide between the levers and pry into every cranny without success in his search for other life.
There was life here. He could feel it surging about him, prickling his skin, causing his scalp to burn and
itch, his hair to rise, his feet to tingle but it was not life as he knew it.
There was nothing human hi the cold ferocity which he felt constantly regarding him. He was not daunted
by it. His courage had never been questioned, but he felt uneasy in this eery place of power. Gwalchmai
doubted now that anything even remotely approaching human emotion could be assumed as a part of this
terrible hatred which he felt weighing upon him, close as a second skin.
On the third evening, almost firmly convinced that his search was useless, he sat again in the room of the
fountain, dabbling his hands in the water and glumly regarding the beautiful image. The green light, paler
with the descending sun, bathed the room with peace and beauty. There is a healing quality in this color.
It is the hue of living things, the lifeblood of the Earth Mother, and there is a benison and a blessing in it.
In this room he felt that he was welcome and in this room only.
His loneliness seemed more than he could bear and suddenly memories came rushing back. Aztlan, his
father and mother, his mission and his vow to complete it, the faces of his dead companions who were to
him like brothers all these and more he remembered as the light streamed down upon him and he
buried his face in his hands and groaned at the hopelessness of his situation.
Lost and a prisoner on a mysterious ship locked tightly in a sea of weed! Alone and helpless to fulfill his
vow. Here was the only companion he had found: an unseeing, insensate fabrication of metal, lovely as
the dreams of an angel, but without voice, without emotion, without soul.
The silence bore heavily upon him also. No bird lofted in these skies, no fish could leap through the
weed, no bee droned heavily by. After he had entered that sanctuary upon the first day, no sounds but [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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