F. Wilson - The Tery

His voice trailed off as he briefly seemed to relive the find, a scholar's ecstasy beaming through the grime and matted hair that covered his face. Then he shook himself and resumed his tale.

"Yes…five volumes. I finished translating four of them a few months ago and was so caught up with what I'd learned that I ran to tell Mekk himself."

He paused and smiled grimly. "That was a stupid thing to do — for that act alone I deserve to be called Crazy Rab. I didn't get to see Mekk, of course. No one gets to see the Overlord these days since the True Shape priests took over as his advisors. I was shunted off to one of the high priests and should have had sense enough then to keep quiet. But no. Crazy Rab had to lay the entire translation out before the high priest. I was so excited about what I'd found that I never considered what a threat it was to the political power the True Shape cult had acquired."

The tery listened with growing interest. If the True Shape cult felt threatened by Rab's discoveries, perhaps there was something to them.

"You see, I had learned some incredible things in those volumes. I learned that we are just a tiny colony of a larger race, that our ancestors came from the sky and that there are hundreds of other colonies of humans scattered all over the other side of the sky."

"Madness!" the tery growled.

"It sounds crazy, I know, but those volumes are real and obviously not a product of our culture."

"But to live on the other side of the sky!"

"It seems that our ancestors were banned from the mother world and settled here to build their own culture. They were called ‘Shapers' and toyed with the stuff within that gives a thing its shape, that makes a child resemble its parents. They set out with the mission to create a perfect race of perfect humans, each with the power to speak mind-to-mind; the Talents were the high point of the Shaper art.

"But it didn't last. A perverted element, the Teratologists or ‘Teratols,' as they came to be known, came to power and a being's shape became a plaything for the ruling clique. They created monstrous plants, made beasts look like men and men look like beasts."

"No-no. Teries were caused by the Great Sickness."

"Not true. That's a myth. Someone like you and someone with the Talent are both human, and both teries ."

"Then you are saying that Overlord Mekk is right in lumping Talents together with teries."

"Yes. Both are products of the Shaper art in the Teratol regime."

"And where is this regime now?"

"Dead. Gone. Wiped out in the Great Sickness. In fact, the five volumes I found were apparently written at the height of the Great Sickness. Their author says in the fourth volume that the Teratols accidentally caused a change in something called a ‘virus,' and a monstrous plague swept the world, reducing our ancestors' civilization to rubble. We are the survivors."

The tery regarded his fellow captive thoughtfully. The man did not rave — seemed quite sane, in fact — and spoke with utter conviction. But it was all so preposterous, so contrary to common knowledge. Everyone knew…and yet, if those volumes truly existed…

"Where are the volumes now?" he asked.

"Kitru has them. It's a complicated story involving incredible stupidity on my part. But briefly: In Mekk's fortress, the high priests tried to get the volumes from me. They were ready to kill me to silence me, but first they wanted those books.

"So I fled, but not before learning of the proposed addition to the old Tery Extermination Decree that would mark all Talents for extinction. I took the volumes and came here, hoping to find someone in power who would listen. I went to Kitru with my translation and he threw me out. I'm ashamed to say that I went back again and that's when he had me thrown in here to await Mekk's arrival, which has been twice postponed — thankfully. So I've moldered for months. When the Overlord finally does arrive, I'm to be nailed up by the gate as a heretic."

The tery shuddered at thought of hanging in the sun to die of thirst and starvation while the crows and vultures waited to get at your eyes. Better a quick, clean death.

Rab sighed despondently. "At least I managed to warn the Talents of the new extermination decree. Most of them fled to safety in time."

The tery's mind made a delayed correlation: "You're Rab!"

"Yes. I believe I told you that a number of times."

"You're the one the psi-folk have been waiting for."

He had heard the name mentioned many times among the Talents but had failed to connect it with this man.

"How do you know that?" Rab asked, rising slowly to his feet.

"I've been living with them. But that must mean —"

"Yes…I'm a Talent. And a Finder, as well. But Kitru doesn't have a Finder of his own so he does not know that I'm either."

"But he does have a Finder!"

The tery briefly recounted the day's events.

Rab was frantic. "You mean the Talents are coming here? Now? They'll be wiped out!" He began to pace the tiny cell. "We've got to stop them!"

The tery remained seated in the center of the cell and watched the man.

"Can we dig out?"

Rab stopped pacing and shook his head. "No. The keep is built on solid rock. The only way out of here is through that door."

The tery returned to the door and rattled it again.

"Too strong," he said.

"You know," Rab said slowly, "I never had the opportunity to get the advantage on one of these guards when I was here alone, but now that there's two of us — and only one of us thought to be human…"

The dozing guard at the outer door was startled to wakefulness by shrill cries of fear and pain from the central cell. Grabbing a torch from its wall brace, he rushed to the door and peered through the grate. The flickering light revealed the tery in ferocious assault upon the screaming Rab.

The guard hesitated briefly, then decided it might be wisest to intervene. Kitru only imprisoned those he thought might prove useful at some time in the future. And such must be the case with Crazy Rab. Even though it hadn't been his idea to put the two of them together, the guard knew that if the prisoner were killed he would end up crucified outside the gates instead of Crazy Rab.

Unlocking the cell door he entered with the torch held before him. His plan was to back the tery away from Rab and then drag the man out and put him in a separate cell.

"Back!" he yelled, thrusting the torch toward the tery's face. "Back, you ugly beast!"

The tery looked up and shrank away from the flames, releasing the moaning human.

"Don't like fire, do you?" The guard pressed his advantage. "Figured you wouldn’t."

What he didn't figure was that Crazy Rab would leap to his feet and grab his sword arm. The guard turned to strike at the human with the torch but felt it wrenched from his grasp by the tery who had suddenly lost his fear of fire. In one motion the tery lifted him off his feet like a child. Suddenly he was tumbling through the air toward the stone wall.

As the guard rolled to the floor and lay still, Rab bent over him, then rose and regarded the tery uneasily.

"He's alive, but barely. I think you broke half his ribs. You're quite as strong as you look, my friend, but you'll have to learn a little restraint."

The tery replied with a low growl. He wanted to find Adriel and could not concern himself with the well-being of those who would harm her.

"I'll show them as much restraint as they showed my parents."

"Oh. I see. Sorry."

The tery’s patience was wearing thin.

"Find Adriel," the tery said impatiently.

Nodding, Rab led him from the cell.

"She must be in the tower. I became fairly well acquainted with this area of the keep while awaiting audiences with Kitru and I think I know how we can gain the stairs of the main tower without being seen. After that we'll have to depend on luck."