Ricardo Pinto - The Third God

Even as Legions’ homunculus was murmuring an echo to these words Carnelian knew the answer. He was already gazing up to the tower that rose behind the fortress when the homunculus raised its arm to point to it.

Climbing the steps up onto the summit, Carnelian was immediately aware of the brass mechanisms around him: a double row of them running off to either side along the width of the narrow space. The military gates they had had to open all the way up through the tower had been closed from within, but evidence of bloodshed had been everywhere. Here on the summit was more blood and, scattered between the machines, discarded silver masks like the ones the ammonites attending Legions were wearing. As these men swarmed the machines, Carnelian wound his way to the edge, following his nose. There he found the corpse causeway. A ramp of the dead sloping up from the ramparts of the fortress. He felt a presence and turned to find Legions and his homunculus behind him.

‘The devices are undamaged, Celestial.’

Carnelian glanced at the machines. ‘So the link was broken when the ammonites were carried off?’

‘Operators are not essential to maintain the link. The heliographs can be set up in pairs to relay signals, though there is an associated risk of degradation with this passive mode.’

‘None were so aligned?’

‘Either the operators had no time to set this up or else the devices were disturbed in the ensuing struggle.’

The homunculus must have reported Carnelian’s glance at the corpse ramp to his master, for he said: ‘Ants will cross a gutter on the bodies of their fallen.’

Carnelian glanced at the Grand Sapient’s impassive mask and saw himself reflected there. Still disturbed, he gazed towards the last turn in the Canyon, wanting to know what was happening out there, but also dreading it.

‘Celestial, may we make the attempt to re-establish the link?’

Carnelian turned back to the Grand Sapient. If he allowed this, the Wise would restore Osrakum’s control of the legions and, with those, dominion over the Three Lands. In the present political situation, it would be their voice the world obeyed.

‘We must re-establish a vision of the Commonwealth.’

‘A vision of the Commonwealth?’

‘An amalgamation of what has been and can currently be perceived from every watch-tower and fortress across the Land.’

‘How long would that take?’

‘Depending on how many channels remain intact, Celestial, little more than a single day.’

Carnelian stared. ‘It would take a signal that long to go to Makar and return.’

‘Still, it can be done.’

‘From every watch-tower?’

‘With a single command code, the entire system can be set into a seeing mode. All sources will supply data in a fixed, compact format along five channels. Of course, Celestial, to achieve a synthesis of the data it will all have to be relayed to the Labyrinth. We have not the facilities here to process it.’

Remembering the system of networked ammonites he had seen in the Halls of Thunder, Carnelian nodded. ‘Ammonite arrays…’

There was a noticeable stiffening of Legions’ fingers. ‘Just so, Celestial.’

‘What then, my Lord?’

‘Our collective mind will possess a fully integrated temporal and spatial vision of everything that is happening in the Commonwealth.’

Carnelian tried to grasp what possessing such an understanding might be like. He failed. One thing was certain, though: thereafter, if they chose to act on this vision, they would be doing so trusting the Wise utterly. How, after all, could he or Osidian verify or question their analysis, never mind the vision upon which it was based? Carnelian yearned for the ride around that corner to look upon the outer world with his own eyes, but he could see only as far as a man could. There was no alternative.

‘Re-establish the link.’

The heliographs were greased, swung round, angled back and forth. Ammonites pulled at the handles that caused their newly polished mirrors to louvre into strips. At last everything was ready. Five of the devices were chosen and, by means of sighting tubes, they were aligned towards points out on the far Canyon wall near the last turn. All five heliographs began sending signals. Several times they repeated the procedure. A while later a flashing began on the faraway Canyon wall. Another joined it and another, until five distinct stars were flashing signals that Carnelian knew must be coming from the watch-towers set in the gatehouses of the Wheel. Even as this was happening, five other heliographs had been aligned back into the Canyon and, soon, they too had obtained confirmation of a link back to the Blood Gate and, no doubt, on to the Wise in the Labyrinth.

It was some time later that the first signals started coming in from the outer world. At first it was only from one of the relay mirrors, but soon all five were flashing. Reports streaming in along the great roads from ever deeper into the Guarded Land. Two observers watched each channel and passed on what they were reading to the operators who were relaying the signals back into Osrakum. Watching all this, Carnelian imagined the minds of the Wise slowly filling with the light of landscapes far away.

He grew weary of the constant clattering of the heliographs and the muttering of their operators. With Fern, he descended into the accommodation strata immediately below the summit and they chose a chamber in which they could still feel the operation of the machines as a vibration in the walls. There he explained to Fern what it was that was happening above their heads. Fern looked unhappy. ‘It is not for man, but only the Sky Father to see all.’ Carnelian had to admit that it was a strange, unnatural sorcery that enabled these blind men to see the whole world. Anxiety drove them into lovemaking; there was comfort and refuge in each other’s arms. Later, at a small window, they watched the signals flickering on the Canyon wall. Ammonites brought them food. When darkness fell the signals continued to be sent using the light from naphtha flares. The vibration of the heliographs was unceasing so that, when Carnelian sank into sleep, he dreamed of the women of his household in the Hold weaving on a loom a fabric that became the world.

When he woke, Carnelian saw Fern’s silhouette already at the window. He could feel the continuing chatter of the heliographs. He rose and slid his body past Fern’s. His lover turned to kiss him, then cheek to cheek they both looked out. The sky above the blackness of the Canyon wall was a thinning indigo. In the blackness five stars winked.

They stood together, among the heliographs now fallen silent, watching a single star blinking on the turn in the Canyon that led into Osrakum. Legions and his Sapients were lined up along the summit edge, gently strangling their homunculi, who were reading the signals in a constant, wavering mutter.

The transmission had started a while ago. After breakfast, he and Fern had dressed and come up to watch the heliographs relaying the data from the outer world. The sun had passed its zenith when the streams had begun to fail. First one, then two more, then the fourth and, finally, the fifth. The heliographs transmitting these last signals to Osrakum had clattered on a while, then they too had fallen silent. A single signal coming back the other way seemed to blink in acknowledgement. Then, nothing. Eerie silence. The ammonites had found places to sit among the machines. The Sapients knelt upon their ranga and seemed like more devices. Carnelian and Fern had found a place to wait. A single signal had woken them all. It was then the Sapients and their homunculi had lined up along the summit edge, waiting. A short time later, the transmission from the Wise in Osrakum had begun.