Ontogeny

Chapter 16b

     “Rider!” cried Malone, pointing ahead of them. “Coming in our direction.”

     Three days had passed since their departure from Tollawen and they had almost reached the border of that strange, nature loving country. The Brigadier had spent every rest stop reading through the translations of the Hetin books, reading them aloud for Malone’s benefit, and they had learned many new and astonishing things about the vanished civilisation, but nothing to equal what they'd found out that first day.

     Much of it was deeply puzzling, though. Many of the words couldn't be translated, and even where they could be, the author assumed that the reader shared a common cultural context with him. He assumed that the reader was familiar with concepts and institutions that Malone and the Brigadier knew nothing about and so left them unexplained. Even the pictures that almost completely filled some pages were no help. What were they to make of a group of happy people, one with unusually dark skin, enjoying drinks around a table while a clock hovered menacingly overhead, for instance? Or a line of birds sitting on a wire while a large, angry ape wearing some kind of military uniform stared up at them from below?

     Casual acquaintances of the Brigadier usually described him as almost expressionless, but Malone had known him long enough to be able to read the slightest of frowns on his brow and the slightest downturn of his lips and he could see that the Brigadier found the pictures of happy, laughing people heartbreakingly poignant. It was a feeling he shared. They had lived in a time of wonders, a world of miracles. They had had no idea that their way of life was about to end. They could only see their world continuing forever, with ever greater miracles to replace the old ones as they grew jaded and familiar.

     "Is there a lesson there for us?" the Brigadier had wondered the evening before. "Could our world end just as abruptly? Not just Helberion, but the entire human world? The lesson, Malone, is to be vigilant. To be forever on guard against anything that might be a threat, and to gather as much information as possible so that we will know how to counter the threat when it appeares. And the threat I can see now is the callous disregard of the Radiants for human life."

     He looked up at the sound of Malone’s voice and followed his pointing finger with his eyes. "He's wearing the uniform of the Helberion Ranger Corps," he said. “Those Above! It's Cotton! What's he doing back here?”

     As the rider drew closer they saw that there was damage to his uniform that he’d done his best to repair with needle and thread and. Also, he was sitting stiffly, as if his side was paining him. When he saw them he geed his horse into a gallop and turned to come directly towards them. “Brigadier!” he gasped as he reined his horse alongside theirs. “Thank Those Above! I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find you! This damned forest, no roads...”

     “What happened?” asked the Brigadier.

     “It was Crane! He betrayed us...”

     “What?” gasped Malone.

     “We were camped for the night. He was on guard. A noise woke me up and I saw him killing Spencer. In his sleep! He had a hand over his mouth, stuck him between the ribs with a knife. I jumped up, grabbed my weapons, yelled for everyone to wake up. Only Quill woke up. Everyone else was already dead. He'd killed them one by one without waking the rest of us up. How could he do that? What kind of man...”

     “Never mind that now,” said the Brigadier, his face grim. “What happened?”

     “Me and Quill fought him. I couldn't have taken him on my own. He had fighting skills I never knew he had. He must have had training. Some kind of Carrow assassin, deep undercover...”