The Far Shore of Time

She looked defensive. “I am sorry. I know this troubles you. The fact that so many bad things are happening to your people troubles me, too.” She stopped to consider for a moment, then sighed. “But honestly, Dannerman, it does not trouble me very much. You are not alone. How many sixty-fours of sixty-fours of sixty-fours of sixty-fours of persons have been sent early to the Eschaton in this struggle? And many of them died far more painfully than your Rosaleens and Pats. Here in this nest we have made ourselves look away from such horrors, Dannerman. We could not survive otherwise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Those scenes in the helmet had put the fear of God into me-well, fear of the Others, anyway. They were definitely taking over my planet. Every last person I cared about-even Pat, even my other self!-was threatened with becoming a zombie servant of the Others, just like the Docs.

It was about the worst news I had ever had to face. I didn’t see how I would be able to sleep with that haunting me. I was wrong about that, though. I dropped off as soon as Pirraghiz left the room, and I didn’t even dream.

Maybe that was my own way of turning away, like Pirraghiz, from what was too hard to face. It didn’t last. The minute I woke up, there it was. I didn’t have any choice. I had to face it.

I stumbled across the dimly lit room to the balcony, my mind full of what I had seen. When I threw the accordion slides open it was bright daylight outside, and three or four Horch were getting into their tricycles to go to work in the fields. I stared at them without seeing them, thinking hard. What I wanted to do more than anything else was to escape from this place, back to Earth, to face whatever was still happening there.

What I had to do first, though, was something different. One additional warm body wouldn’t be much help to the human race. To be of any use at all, I had to bring something useful back with me. What’s more, I had to do it now... always assuming, that was to say, that what I had seen was what was still happening, and not ancient history.

When Pirraghiz heard me moving around she came in, bringing food. As soon as she was in the room she glanced at the drapes, shook that big head reprovingly and began to fuss with them without waiting to hear anything I might have to say. She scolded, “You mustn’t cover the lights during the day, Dannerman. They have to charge up with sunlight so that you can use them after dark.”

I wasn’t in a mood to be instructed about housekeeping. I said to her back, “How long have I been here?”

She left off fussing with the drapes and turned around, peering at me. “What?”

“I want to know,” I insisted. “Those scenes in the helmet, they come from all different times-some winter, some not. I can’t tell anything from them, and I need to know how much time has passed.”

“Do you mean since the Horch liberated this planet? Let me see.” She stroked the mossy beard on her chin, counting to herself. “About four sixty-fours of days, I think. A little more.”

I did the arithmetic in my head. Allowing for the fact that this planet’s days were shorter than Earth’s, it came out to about six months. A long time, and a lot could have happened. But it wasn’t ancient history.

“All right,” I said. “Now I want to know everything there is to know about the Horch and the Belov-I mean, the Others. Let’s get started.”

Pirraghiz was obliging, but she was puzzled, too, and she had a lot of questions. What exactly was it that I wanted to know? When all my answers kept adding up to that same single word-“everything”-she sighed. “I must have advice on this,” she told me. “Wait for me. Eat. I will be back very soon.”

She was, too. I was sipping from a ceramic bowl the last of something that tasted salty and faintly sour when she appeared at the door. She looked pleased. “Much of what you want to learn may be in the Repository of the Nest,” she announced. “The Greatmother has given permission to take you there-as soon,” she said, tidily beginning to pick up die dishes from my breakfast, “as I put these in my room.”

I didn’t want to wait for that, or for anything, but Pirraghiz was firm. Her room was about the same size as mine-pretty small, for a Doc-and she had fitted it with enough belongings to make me think she planned to stay for a while. Among the tiny potted flowers and the bric-a-brac I saw one of those great, cubical cookers Dopey had used. I thought of how much heat those things could produce, and wondered if Beert knew she had it in his fire-free nest. Pirraghiz caught my stare and asked, “Is something wrong?”

I didn’t want to get into a discussion, so I lied. “I was wondering why the Horch have so many empty rooms like this,” I said.