THE CRUCIBLE OF TIME BY JOHN BRUNNER

But his pressure failed him. He was compelled to slump back to a sitting position, whence he glared at Wellearn as though it were the boy’s fault he was so weak.

There was a rapid exchange in Forbish, and Wellearn stated authoritatively, “Shash is the curer-in-chief here. He says you must drink creshban for at least another day before you leave this healing-house.”

With a trace of mischief in his tone, he added, “I didn’t tell him that was how long you already estimated would be necessary.”

At home, mocking his briq-captain in that way would have led to punishment—perhaps lasting punishment, such as having one of his tubules punctured where it would never heal. Since arrival here, though, Wellearn had regretted his oath of fealty, and decided that if all else failed, he could put himself under the protection of the Hearthomers. What did he have to look forward to if he went back to Ushere? More and more hunger, more and more misery! He had never seen cresh on land, as he had told Skilluck, but he had seen old folk lose their minds, reduced to such a state that they scarcely reacted except when they were fed like hoverchicks or barqlings, or when some young’un was brought to them to be mated because a wise’un claimed there was still virtue in that line despite appearances. It had been happening to Wellearn since it became obvious that he was among the lucky bright few, and there were no memories so revolting in his short life as those which reminded him of the foul mindless gropings he had undergone with starvation-crazy ancients. Not one—praise the stars!—of his encounters had so far led to offspring, but if he went home he would certainly be compelled to do the same again, and once the smell and touch took over…

He shuddered. And wondered much about the nature of the stars which could dictate so cruel a doom for a person as well intentioned as himself, then pay him back—for it seemed to him to be a reward—with the gentle sweetness of Embery. She had received him twice already, and her father thoroughly approved, for as he said, “We too in this delicious land are plagued by forces we don’t understand, and it has been nearly a score of years since one of our family bred true: myself with the lady who gave me Embery and died.”

What, on the other claw, they did understand had not yet ceased to astonish him.

Leaving Skilluck’s bower, he was overcome by memory.

…Behind the inland hills, a valley lined with smoke-blackened rock; heaps of charcoal, even blacker, surrounding cone-shaped furnaces; piles of sand and unknown minerals, green and brown and white and red; sober folk all of whose names ended in -fire, claiming spiritual if not physical descent from Jing’s legendary friend who lived underground yet brought the light of heaven forth from a cave— Wellearn knew all the stories, for he had been told them as a child, but later he had been taught to think them fabulous, whereas the Hearthomers took them literally, and by their guidance produced incredible ingots of metal and unbelievable quantities of pure glass. Beyond, a desolation as complete as though a hurricane had laid the vegetation low for a day’s walk or more, which was being systematically replanted with oilsap trees that grew quickly and burned hotter than even the best charcoal.

…In a fine house overlooking the sea, an elderly couple possessed of tiny miracles in the shape of roundels of glass no larger than a raindrop, but perfectly shaped, through which they showed him the secret structure of plant-stems, funqi, his own skin, immensely magnified, as though a telescope were to look down to the small instead of upward to the large!

…In a grove just outside the city, folk who selectively bred meatimals, burrowers, diggets, mounts, draftimals, and a score of creatures he could put no name to, seeking to make them fatter or more docile or in some other way more useful. Their cleanlickers were said to be unique, capable of ridding any wound of its poison within days and making a swift recovery. To take a few of those home to the lands where so often a daring fish-hunter died for his temerity in defying a rasper or a voraq: that would be an achievement! But what to trade for breeding-stock? Did Embery know about northfinders? It seemed not; alas, though, Tempestamer carried only one, which wasn’t in brood-phase this year. Besides, they seldom bred true, a problem that plagued the Hearthomer animal-breeders too.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *