Poet
You see bones up ahead
where there are none.
By the time we get there
so do they....
- Hali Ekel, Private Letters
HALI STUDIED the monitors on the reclining Waela with care. It was well into dayside, but Waela appeared to be asleep, her body quiet on the tightly stretched hammock which they had rigged in one of Ship's rim compartments. Her abdomen was a mounded hillock. There was no hatch to this cubicle, only a fabric curtain which rustled in faint stirrings from the agrarium to which this extrusion was attached.
This is not normal sleep, Hali thought.
Waela's breathing was too shallow, the passivity of her body too profound. It was as though she had slipped back into something approaching hyb. What did that mean for the fetus?
The compartment was slightly larger than a regular cubby, and Hali had brought in a small wheeled cart to support the monitor screen. The screen showed Waela's vital signs as visible undulating curves with synchronous time-blips. A secondary set of lines reported on the child developing in Waela's womb. A simple twist of a dial could superimpose one set of lines on the other.
Hali had been checking the synchronous beat for almost an hour. Waela had come to this Natali retreat without protest, obeying every suggestion Hali made with a sleepwalker's passivity. She had appeared to gain some energy after feeding at a corridor shipti...process which still filled Hali with confusion. So few ever received elixir at the shiptits anymore that most Shipmen ignored them, taking this as a sign of Ship's deeper intents or displeasure. Attendance at WorShip had never been more punctual.
Why was Ship feeding Waela?
While Waela drank from the shiptit container, Hali had tried to get a response from the same corridor station. No elixir.
Why, Ship?
No answer. Ship had not been easily responsive since sending her to see the crucifixion of Yaisuah.
The lines on the monitor screen were merging once more - fetus and mother in synchronous beat. As the lines merged, Waela opened her eyes. There was no consciousness in the eyes, only an unmoving stare at the compartment ceiling.
"Fly us back to Jesus."
As she spoke, the synchronous lines separated and Waela closed her eyes to sink back into the geography of her mysterious sleep.
Hali stood in astonished contemplation of the unconscious woman. Waela had said "Jesus" the way Ship pronounced the name. Not Yaisuah or Hesoos, but Geezuz.
Had Ship sent Waela, too, on that odd journey to the Hill of Skulls? Hali thought not. I would recognize the signs of that shared experience. Hali knew the marks on herself which came from that trip to Golgotha.
My eyes are older.
And there was a new quietude in her manner, a wish to share this thing with someone. But she lived with the knowledge that no other person might understan.... except possibl.... just possibly, Kerro Panille.
Hali stared at the pregnant mound of Waela's abdomen.
Why had he bred with thi.... this older woman?
Fly us back to Jesus?
Could that be just delirious muttering? Then why Geezuz?
A deep sense of uneasiness moved itself through Hali. She used her pribox to call down to Shipcore and arranged for a relief watch on the monitor. The relief showed up presently, a young Natali intern named Latina. Her official green pribox hung at her hip as she hurried into the compartment.
"What's the rush?" Hali asked.
"Ferry sent word that he wants to see you right away down at WorShip Nine."
"He could've called me." Hali tapped her own pribox.
"Ye.... well, he just said for me to tell you to hurry."
Hali nodded and gathered her things. Her own pribox and recorder were beyond habit, a part of her physical self. She briefed Latina on the routine as she gathered her equipment, noting the log of synchronous beats, then ducked out through the curtain. The agrarium was a scene of intense dayside activity, a harvest in process. Hali wove her way through the dance of workers and found a servo going coreside. At Old Hull she took the slide to Central and dropped off at the Study passage which led to WorShip Nine.
The red numeral winked at her as she found the hatch and slipped into the controlled blue gloom. She could not see Ferry anywhere, but there were perhaps thirty children in the five-to-seven age range sitting cross-legged around a holofocus at the center of the WorShip area. The focus showed a projection of a man in shipcloth white who was lying on bare ground and covering his eyes with both hands in great pain or fear.
"What is the lesson, children?"
The question was asked in the flat and emotionless tone of Ship's ordinary instruction programs.
One of the boys pointed to another boy beside him and said: "He wants to know where the man's name came from."
The projected figure stood, appearing dazed, and a hand reached from outside the focus to steady him. The hand became another man in a long beige robe as the focus widened. Beside this other man, skittish and wild-eyed, danced a large white horse.
The children gasped as the horse stepped into, then out, then back into the holo. They clapped when the robed man got it under control.
Hali moved across to a WorShip couch overlooking this performance and sank into the cushions. She glanced around once more for Ferry. No sign of him. Typical. Tell her to hurry, then he was not here.
Neither of the projected figures was speaking, but now a voice in a strange tongue boomed from the holofocus. How familiar that tongue sounded! Hali felt that she could almost understand it - as though she had learned it in a dream. She tapped the translate switch on the arm of the couch beside her and the voice boomed once more: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?"
That voice! Where had she heard that voice?
The white-clad figure, still with hands over his eyes and concealing most of his face, rolled over and climbed to his feet with his back to Hali. She saw that he was not wearing a shipsuit after all, but a white robe which had clung to his long legs. The man stumbled back two steps now and fell once more. As he fell, he cried: "Who are you?"
The booming voice said: "I am Yaisuah, whom you persecute. It is hard for you to kick against the thorns."
Hali sat in breathless quiet: Yaisua.... Hesoo.... Geezuz.
The holofocus blipped out and the WorShip lights came up to a warm yellow. Hali saw that she was the only adult in the room - this had been a session for young children. Why had Ferry ordered her to meet him here?
One of the children still seated on the floor spoke directly to Hali: "Do you know where that man got his name?"
"It was a mixture from two ancient cultures Earthside," she said. "Why were you watching that?"
"Ship said that was today's lesson. It started with the man on the horse. He rode very fast. Do we have horses in hyb?"
"The manifest says we have horses but we have no place for them yet."
"I'd like to ride a horse sometime."
"What did you learn from today's lesson?" Hali asked.
"Ship is everywhere, has been everywhere and has done and seen everything," the boy said. Other children nodded.
Was that why You showed me Yaisuah, Ship?
No answer, but she had not expected one.
I didn't learn my lesson. Whatever it was Ship wanted me to lear.... I failed.
Distraught, she stood and glanced at the boy who had addressed her. Why weren't there any adults here? It was children's WorShip, but not even a guide?
"Has Doctor Ferry been here?" she asked.
"He was here but someone called him away," a little girl in the background said. "Is he supposed to leave WorShip?"
"When it's the business of Ship," Hali said. The apology sounded empty, but the girl accepted it.
Abruptly, Hali turned away and slipped out of the room. As she left, she heard the little girl call: "But who's going to lead us in lesson study?"
Not me, little girl. I have my own studying to do.
Something was going very wrong shipside. Waela's odd pregnancy was merely one symptom among many. Hali ran down the side passage coreside from the WorShip area, found a service access plate and slipped it aside. She wormed her way down a dimly lighted tube to a cross-tube where she slipped out through another service plate into the main passage to Records. There was activity in Record...teener group learning how to handle the more sophisticated equipment, but she found her aisle between the storage racks unoccupied and no one at the console which concealed Kerro's small study lab.
Hali opened the concealed hatch, saw pale pink light in the lab. She slid inside and sat at the control seat. The hatch snicked closed behind her. She was breathless from the rush of getting here, but wanted no delay. Where to begin? Vocoder? Projection?
Hali chewed at her lip. Nothing could be hidden from Ship. The lesson for the children had been a true one. She knew this.
I don't even need this equipment to address Ship.
Then why did Ship use this place at all?
"Most of you find it less disturbing than when I speak in your mind."
Ship's intimate voice issued from the vocoder in front of her. For some reason, the calm and rational tone angered her.