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I'm the only one he knows."
"Ishmael," Helena said, kneeling on the walkway. The pit was as deep as it was
wide, and the walls were made of slick, hard tile. The figure was naked and
the pit was bare except for three bowls, receptacles for food, water and
waste, all arranged neatly against one wall.
"Yes."
Michael's eyes had adjusted well enough that he could make out the details of
Ishmael's face. It was small, round, disproportionate to such a tall body. The
hands were large and hung from arms which began thin at the shoulders and
widened to grotesque forearms and wrists.
"We have some questions to ask," Helena said.
"I'm not otherwise occupied."
"Has he been here since he was born?" Michael whispered.
"Almost," Helena said. "He was one of the first that we know of. He's been
here since the War."
"Time passes," Ishmael said. "Questions." He sat down, leaning against the
tiles and stretching his pale legs out on the floor.
"Who are you?"
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"A sideshow for the guilty. A product of lust. Something so evil it must be
evilly confined through all its
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Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 1 - The Infinity Concerto endless
life. An abortion walking. Victim."
"Don't listen to that crap," Helena told Michael. She glanced at him to gauge
the effect Ishmael was having, then returned her attention to the pit. "Who
are you?"
"An abortion!" Ishmael's voice rose. "Born of man and woman."
"You killed your parents."
"I don't remember." Coy, smiling.
"You tried to kill others."
"You are so informed."
"Who are you?" Helena persisted. "Your name."
"Call me "
"Stop that," Sherebith said quietly. "His name is Paynim. He's one of Adonna's
own."
"Paynim," said the figure, "Ishmael. No matter."
"He took the child's body when it was born. There are no souls here."
Sherebith walked around the pit. "I
am the only one who cares."
"Adonna cares!" Ishmael wailed. "Adonna bred me "
"Buried you," Sherebith said, pacing behind Helena and Michael, making Michael
edge uncomfortably close to the pit.
"Adonna freed me."
"You rose from the Blasted Plain. You still call to your friends there."
"No friends." Sad, deep.
"Then what are you?" Helena asked.
"Out of time, mired in the Realm, given form by Adonna. Ishmael."
"What are you capable of?"
The Child shook his head. Michael could barely make out his grin. The air was
stifling. Michael wanted very badly to be outside.
"I stare at the Realm. I foresee."
"What do you foresee?"
"Rebellion."
"When?"
"Soon, soon."
"Who will win?"
Michael looked at Helena, then at Sherebith.
"The Pact will be broken. Alyons will lose everything."
Helena's expression was triumphant. "That's the second time he's used those
words. He told Savarin the same thing. We'll win!"
Michael frowned. The Child's face was composed, hands folded in his lap.
Sherebith kneeled beside the pit and looked up at them. "Nobody cares for them
but me," she said. "I am the only one."
"And the caretaker," Helena reminded her.
"And him."
Behind them, a short lean man dressed in brown pants and a knee-length baggy
shirt pushed a wicker cart across the narrow walkways. From the sides of the
cart hung the paper and wicker bowls used by the inhabitants of the pits.
Three covered containers poked from a recess in the top of the cart. Helena
and
Michael stepped out of his way and he passed along the narrow walkway, the
bowls tapping against the side of the cart. Michael looked at the man's face.
He seemed to concentrate on some inner melody, gliding under the bands of
light from a ventilator; his eyes were sunken, useless, and as blue as a
newborn
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Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 1 - The Infinity Concerto kitten's.
"The caretaker," Helena whispered into Michael's ear.
"The only one," Sherebith affirmed, gaze fixed on Ishmael in his pit.
Michael was cold when they emerged from the Yard. Sherebith closed the door
behind them and latched it without a word. For the first time, Michael knew
what it felt like to want to die  to get the misery over with.
That was the emotion he had contracted from Ishmael.
Helena took a deep breath and brushed her hair back from her face. "Now you
see why we don't go there often."
"They're kept in the pits& because they hurt people?"
"They're monsters," Helena said, walking across the road. "Didn't you hear
him?"
"Yes, but he's been there& how long? Decades? That would turn anyone into a
monster."
"I've only heard stories," Helena said, keeping one pace ahead of him. "They
killed their parents, or they murdered other people. Or they escaped to the
Blasted Plain and lived there and made raids on Euterpe until they were
caught, or killed. And when they were killed, a foulness came out of them."
She shuddered, her shoulders jerking spasmodically. "This isn't Earth,
Michael."
"I know that," Michael said, his voice rising. "But Jesus  the way they're
treated. If they're so bad, why not just kill them?"
"We can't kill them," she said. "Aiyons can. Not us. He hasn't killed any of
them for a long time. None have escaped for a long time. They're human& sort
of. I don't wish to talk about it anymore."
"All right. Then about his prophecy. How do you know he's telling the truth?"
"Sherebith will tell you. Once you get past all the crap, Ishmael never lies."
"But maybe he misleads. I read about the sibyls "
Helena turned on him, neck thrust out and fists clenched. "Look! We have
little enough to go on, nothing to encourage us. We take our reassurances
where we can."
"From Ishmael?" Michael said, his face flushing. "From someone you lock up as
a monster?"
"A special monster," she said, relaxing slightly. "Don't try to set us
straight about the Realm, or about what we're doing, Michael. We've been here
much longer than you have."
That seemed to settle it. They were silent the rest of the way back to
Helena's apartment. She walked up the stairs ahead of him. "You want to come
in?" she asked. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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