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be quoted reasonably
for critical or illustrative purposes of course.
I hope you enjoy it.
(John Light)
Voyage
to Camulashivanava
When
Rashodanar departed Castle Kada and left the mighty city of Yara,
capital of
the Dimavatan Empire, his heart was light although he left behind him
Mandalava
on whom that heart was set. One voyage, he thought, would make his
fortune and
then he could marry his heart's desire, and they would live in
happiness and
comfort forever. Perhaps he would rise high in the esteem of the
Emperor
Tandar, and would be made Viceroy of some great province like Dilangor
or
Vaganarat, or Governor of one of the rich cities such as Ralavar or
Tumbra.
Perchance he would remain a merchant and retire with his bride to the
Archipelago of Sitratha or to Vidra, the land of his birth.
So
his thoughts were busy with dreams
of a joyous future, as he journeyed to the Drome of the Dirigibles
beneath the
blue sun Astara. By four sun cycles, he anticipated he would be back to
claim
his Mandalava beneath the red sun Auvara.
Although
it was not far to the drome,
the season of Astara was drawing to an end, and sun change often
brought bad
weather, so he made haste. But to no avail. Soon dark clouds were
scudding in
from the Sea of Sarsana and the gentle breeze had become a cold wind.
Even so
he hurried on, hoping against hope, that he would be able to join his
ship
before sun change. He was disappointed. When he reached the drome, it
was to be
told that all dirigibles were grounded until the weather cleared.
As
he had feared, calm did not return
until Astara had dropped below the horizon and Shavara had risen to
take its
place. So he fretted and grumbled, first wishing he had not tarried so
long in
Yara with Mandalava and then that he had remained longer, for he might
as well
be at Yara as here at the drome while the fierce winds blew.
On
the third awakening after his
arrival at the drome he was surprised and overjoyed to be joined by his
lover.
She seemed greatly agitated and he sought to calm her but she would not
be
soothed.
"I
had so terrible a dream,"
she cried, "that I would never see you again; that some great
catastrophe
would separate us forever." Rashodanar laughed.
"Then
the dream is already proved
false, for here we are together, after being parted only a few sleeps,
'though
in truth it seemed much longer," he added.
They
argued. Rashodanar was adamant
that there was no danger, only the chance of good fortune in his voyage
to
Camulashivanava; Mandalava was vehement in her assertion that if he
really
loved her, he would not risk their future happiness in the face of the
warning
she had so clearly received in her dream. After the quarrel had run its
course
they treated each other with cool politeness which by degrees grew
warmer,
until at length they were reconciled; yet the rapture they had known in
Castle
Kada, at the court of the Emperor and his consort Karyopa, was not to
be
regained. Mandalava's vision lay like a shadow over them; rumours of
strange
events at Castle Kada disturbed them and they were alarmed by
prophesies of
doom in which the name of Melgor Erdin, Prince of the Empire, figured
often.
With
the coming of the new sun
Shavara, the weather grew calmer and the dirigibles were released from
the
captivity of their hangars. At the sight of their multicoloured
envelopes,
Rashodanar's heart lifted, but Mandalava grew downcast once more. Their
leave-taking was awkward and Rashodanar was glad when he was called to
the car
of a vast yellow and green dirigible. From within he waved and grinned
at the
forlorn figure of the girl Mandalava, who managed a small smile and a
half-hearted salute in return. Then the craft rose into the pink sky.
The girl watched
it as it dwindled and finally vanished. High above she could just make
out the
tiny speck that was the orbital platform where her lover would transfer
from
the dirigible to his vessel, the Vimapor.
Rashodanar
stood on the deck of the
orbital platform and marvelled at the globe of Gildon. He had seen the
sight
many times before but his memory could never capture its magnificence.
He was
surprised anew each time he saw it.
The
deck was enclosed by panes of
thick glass set in a framework of light but hard and impervious wood.
Raising
his eyes he glimpsed the Vimapor riding close by. Soon it would be
hauled
alongside and he would go aboard to take over from his first mate who
would
undoubtedly be glad to relinquish command after the period of enforced
inactivity
while Rashodanar had been planet-bound.
He
heard his name called and went to
the office of the platform commander. They exchanged pleasantries.
"Whither
bound?" asked the
commander.
"Camulashivanava,
with a cargo of
rare paintings, perfumes and jewelry," answered Rashodanar.
"And
what do you hope to secure
in return?"
The
merchant shrugged.
"I
cannot say until I see what
they have. It is a world only lightly settled, and mainly unexplored.
Who knows
what wonders and treasures remain to be discovered there."
The
commander grunted.
"Everything
is in order," he
acknowledged. "I wish you a safe and prosperous voyage."
"Thank
you."
The
next few wake periods were busy. When he boarded the Vimapor,
Rashodanar found
everything in readiness. They made the final checks and then raised the
auxiliary sails into the stellar wind. Slowly they filled and
imperceptibly at
first, but then with increasing speed, the Vimapor drew away from the
platform.
Rashodanar and his crew manipulated the sails to catch the photon
breezes to
accelerate their craft and orient it, a task requiring constant
vigilance as
they moved from one particle stream to another. Within the cluster
Vindo, swarms
of stars wove complex patterns of winds, and intuition, experience and
skill
were all vital to the navigation of these unseeable currents.
Acceleration was
slow but the star sailors were a patient breed, obsessed with the
magnificence
of the heavens in the heart of the cluster and of all the sights
afforded them,
none was reckoned more beautiful than the multiple system in which
Gildon
moved. Seen from a sufficient distance for it to be a single panorama,
it was
breathtaking; blue and red, yellow and orange, white and mysteriously
dark, the
six stars presented an overwhelming display. The sky was never dark. As
the
home system receded, the light of other stars waxed strong and the
winds
shifted and pulsed.
Rapitava,
the navigator, was ever gloomy, standing at the prow observation port,
assessing the fluctuations of the photon pressures by the tremors of
the ship
felt through the soles of his bare feet. Whenever anyone asked him how
the
voyage was going, he would shrug and answer, "Pray to the Spirits of
Starshine." Some of the crew smiled at his pessimism but others,
especially
those making their first voyage, were more likely to seek out the
acolyte of
Vapara for reassurance.
Buffeted
but undeflected, the ship
sailed on between the close-set suns. Beautiful though the sky was,
brightened
by swathes of star-lit gas and dust, first magenta, then purple, now
mauve,
then scarlet, no one could watch it always, and the journey became
tedious, so
there was great relief and enthusiasm when Camulashivanava's sun Jiva,
began to
grow in size. At long last the Vimapor decelerated, the photon sails
now
deployed to harness contrary winds. With Jiva a blazing glory in the
forward
sky, Camulashivanava itself grew perceptibly, a silver star that became
a
pearly planet.
They
coasted in towards their
destination, Rashodanar controlling the complex manoeuvres that would
bring
them alongside Camulashivanava's orbital platform. Those of the crew
not
involved in manipulating the sails stared through the crystal ports at
the
unfamiliar world below. A few had visited
it before but no one questioned them about it nor did they offer any
comment.
Among the spacefarers of Gildon, first planetfall was reckoned the most
precious of all experiences and no one would diminish its impact.
When
they docked they were given a
hearty welcome and soon crew and cargo were on their way planet-ward in
long-winged gliders that slid down air banks, skirted updrafts, skimmed
across
towering clouds and swooped through valleys between high cumulus. The
eager
mariners were fascinated by the cloud mountains that surrounded them,
but their
curiosity about what lay below remained unsatisfied until, crossing
fragmenting
peaks of vapour, they came to a deep chasm between the white ranges and
began
to spiral down. Soon they were in a swirling funnel which sucked them
ground-ward
like a maelstrom. It was an unnerving sensation and for those
experiencing it
for the first time, relief was overwhelming when they dropped through
the cloud
base, and saw below them, at long last, the fabled surface of
Camulashivanava.
The
planet basked in a perpetual
Kanthavan summer, its vegetation ever green, flecked with flower
colours. From
their high vantage they could glimpse an empurpled ocean edged with
orange
sand. As they circled, a yellow clearing came into view and at its
centre the
deep blue roofs of Laja-Peranda, capital of Camulashivanava.
The
gliders touched down on a field of
orpiment near the mouth of an avenue which led towards the heart of the
city.
The pink walls and the ultramarine roofs gave Laja-Peranda a fairy tale
appearance to the Gildans. Stepping from the long winged sky-planes,
they
breathed deep of the fragrant air, stretched their limbs, and felt the
delirious joy of planet-fall on a fair world.
Smiling
emissaries came to welcome
them to Camulashivana and to assure them that they would be given every
assistance in their trading but to urge them first to relax.
Their
lodgings were clean, comfortable
and entrancing. Their hosts and hostesses were delightful. Rashodanar
was
overwhelmed by the hospitality of the Camulashivanavans, by their
exotic food,
intoxicating beverages, and by the beauty of those who attended them.
Laja-Peranda was a city of fable and of fascination. In the company of
Charida,
the guide assigned to him, Rashodanar wandered through the alleyways
and
courtyards, exclaimed at the wares of the tiny shops and crowded
bazaars, and
lounged in the balmy air on the terraces of refreshment houses.
Although the
thick layers of cumulus never parted to allow a glimpse of sun or
stars, he
hardly noticed, for the light that filtered through the cloud seemed
purified
by it, so that it was more pellucid even than the sunshine of Gildon.
Seeking
a change from the city he
would accompany Charida into the meadows and woodlands beyond.
Camulashivanava
had an extensive flora but no animal life of its own to render it
inimical to
the first settlers from Gildon, and they had been careful to introduce
only
such fauna as would enhance the planet. These they then treated with a
solicitude which rendered them delightfully tame and trusting, so that
walking
in the countryside of Camulashivanava had a magical quality - or
perhaps the
magic emanated from Charida. This thought, with its overtones of guilt
in
remembrance of the distant Mandalava his betrothed, at last stirred
Rashodanar
from the idyllic existence which had enfolded him. He reproached
himself that
since his arrival he had done nothing except take pleasure in his
surroundings
and the company of Charida. His crew, he realised, had been more than
content
to follow his example. But they had come to trade, and must be about
their
business.
He
broached the subject with Charida,
half expecting she might be offended at his uncouthness, but she seemed
to take
the same interest in his request as in all his activities. He found
that the
merchandise they had brought with them from Gildon had all been ferried
to the
ground and was safe and sound in a convenient warehouse. Word was
spread
through the taverns that the merchants from Gildon were ready to trade,
and
soon buyers began to appear at the warehouse. Bargaining was brisk but
courteous. To the gratification of the traders of both worlds, each
desired
what the other had to offer and in a few days agreements were concluded
with
mutual satisfaction.
Their
business completed, the Gildans
might well have departed there and then but none of the crew seemed
eager to
leave and Rashodanar needed little persuasion to prolong their stay. He
resumed
his dalliance with the compliant Charida, and became absorbed once more
in the
pleasures Camulashivanava offered the senses - brilliant blooms,
luxuriant
foliage, limpid pools, soft meadows, wooded hills, good company,
sensual music.
Colour, sound and fragrance assailed him and he succumbed willingly. If
he
thought of Gildon and of Mandalava, he soon convinced himself that this
brief
holiday in Laja-Peranda added but little to the length of his absence
by
comparison with the duration of the voyage.
This
idyll was shattered one lazy
afternoon by the sight of a man running towards Laja-Peranda from the
direction
of the glider field. Reaching the edge of the town he collapsed in a
chair on
the veranda of the nearest inn. The landlord, full of concern, brought
the
runner a cool drink of which he gulped half before blurting out a
single awful
sentence.
"The
stars have changed."
Rashodanar
and Charida, together with
a number of local men and women and some of the crew of the Vimapor had
gathered to hear the reason for the man's unprecedented haste. They
stared at
him, not comprehending his meaning yet struck with fear at the manner
of his
utterance.
"What
do you mean?" enquired
the landlord at length.
"The stars - they have changed,"
reiterated the man. "I was on the orbital platform, keeping watch for
the
first sign of incoming vessels, when suddenly there occurred an event I
have
never before witnessed, nor even heard of. For a moment the stars
winked out.
At first I thought I had imagined it, or that I had blinked without
realising
it, but other watchers had noticed it too, and even more convincingly,
the stars
I now gazed upon were not those I have known all my life."
"How
were they different?"
"There
were far fewer of them,
and many of those that remained glowed feeble and red. It was as though
a thick
curtain had been drawn across the Universe. Soon everyone on the
platform had
been summoned from their tasks, from relaxation or from sleep. All
agreed about
the appearance of the sky. It was Kavalandaskar who framed the thought
in the
minds of many of us, what most of us are forced to believe is the
truth, incomprehensible
though it seems. At first he suggested that the cosmos had aged
suddenly,
passing in an instant from youth to senescence. No one could accept
this
explanation since it was clearly flawed. Had the universe aged, we
should all
have done so too, we would now be billions of cycles old, or rather, we
should
have died eons ago. That is certainly not the case! Kavalandaskar saw
the force
of this objection, and suggested an alternative hypothesis – that the
whole of
Camulashivanava had somehow been shifted into the distant future of the
Cosmos."
Disbelief
and argument now ensued, but
Rashodanar scarcely listened. His mind was in a turmoil of horror,
guilt and
disbelief. The last of these conflicting emotions triumphed and
abruptly he
began to run towards the glider field. He found it in a state of
disarray. He
rushed from pilot to pilot, seeking one who would take him up to the
platform.
Most were afraid that whatever disaster had overwhelmed the stars might
spread
closer and affect the upper regions of Camulashivanava's atmosphere so
they
refused to risk a return above the clouds. At length, however, he found
one
whose fascination with the disaster inclined him to view it once again,
and who
needed little persuasion to attempt the ascent. The two men strapped
themselves
into a glider which stood waiting on the launching ramp.
The
aircraft was catapulted into the
up-draft rising from the face of the high cliff on which the glider
field was
situated. As the pilot skilfully exploited the thermals they rose
rapidly above
the landscape which was once so alluring to Rashodanar, but was no
longer.
Steadily they climbed, circling, occasionally dipping, but always
recovering,
moving into the funnel which would convey them into the clear skies
above the
cloud banks.
When
they finally emerged into a deep
valley amongst the cumulus, Rashodanar peered anxiously at the sky
above them,
but of course it was day, and there was no obvious change. Higher still
they
climbed, though with more difficulty as the air thinned and the wind
began to
lose its power. The pilot pointed briefly and the Gildan glimpsed a
brilliant
speck where the orbital platform glinted in the sunlight. The pilot
renewed his
efforts to gain height as the platform moved rapidly towards the point
of the
sky directly above them. It seemed a hopeless task, yet the gap closed
and when
at last Rashodanar was convinced that the platform would just elude
them, their
craft juddered and suddenly accelerated. The pilot again pointed, this
time
towards the front, and Rashodanar made out a thin line of light. They
had
caught a long thread-like wire, of which there were many trailing from
the
platform. Plaited from the secretions of a species of large spider,
they were
immensely strong for their cross-section. Several more engaged the
wings of the
glider, and the Gildan felt a gentle acceleration as the winchers on
the
platform began to haul them in.
When
finally aboard, Rashodanar and
his pilot encountered universal gloom among the remaining crew of the
platform.
But this the Gildan disregarded, speaking only to enquire where he
might find
Kavilandaskar and eventually discovering him gazing through a dark
window at
the blazing disc of Jiva.
"What
has happened?"
demanded Rashodanar.
Without
interrupting his observation
of Camulashivanava's sun, the astronomer
replied:
"What
has happened is that the
number of stars visible from here has diminished, and those still
observable
are all dimmer and redder than they were formerly. However, I suspect
that the
question you really meant to ask is what is the cause of this
happening. That
is much more difficult to answer."
"What
is your opinion?"
asked Rashodanar, striving to appear calm.
"I
do not think a dust cloud can
explain the change. All those who saw it happen agree it occurred in
the blink
of an eye. A cloud would have interposed gradually. Nor can I believe
that all
the stars of the heavens were affected in a similar way at times that
ensured
that their altered light reached us simultaneously. It is much more
probable
that it is really the environs of Jiva that have changed. It is as
though the
tiny bubble of space we inhabit had been projected instantaneously into
the far
future of the universe. That I say is how it appears. Whether that is
the true
explanation I cannot say, but I can think of no other that is
consistent with
what I observe."
"How
big is the bubble?"
asked Rashodanar tightly.
"Oh
small, small. Jiva and its
planets. Not even our closest stellar neighbour has
stayed
with us. It has drifted away and reddened with age."
"My
home ? Gildon?"
For
the first time, Kavilandaskar
turned to look at him and the profound sympathy which illumined his
face was
all the answer Rashodanar needed.
"I'm
sorry," said the
astronomer. "At least Camulashivanava has not been separated from Jiva.
If
that were to happen, as still it might, we should undoubtedly perish."
"I
don't believe it," burst
out Rashodanar suddenly and fiercely. "This is nonsense. There must be
some other explanation. Have there been no ships in since the ... the change?"
"None."
"Then
I must go out and discover
for myself what has happened. I and my crew will return to Gildon. We
will
discover the truth."
Rashodanar
found it was not so simple
to do as to say. When he returned to the surface he found some of his
company
were afraid to join him, and others hankered to remain on
Camulashivanava for
other reasons. At last however he persuaded and cajoled enough to
accompany him
on the home voyage of the Vimapor.
It
was a melancholy sailing. Few were
on the platform to bid them farewell and those there were showed
clearly by
their demeanour that they viewed the voyage as doomed. Grimly
determined,
Rashodanar issued orders to the sail riggers and the Vimapor
accelerated away
from Camulashivanava.
The
passage home was a difficult one.
Uncertainty led to frayed tempers and quarreling. The sombre red of the
dying
suns they passed deepened their gloom. When the six sun system hove
into view
their fears were confirmed and their hopes dashed. Where once had
blazed
crimson Auvara, fulvous Kanthara, cobalt Astara, amber Shavara and
white
Lindara, five red suns now burned sullenly and the always dim Lumerin
was no
longer even a glimmer.
Still,
Rashodanar could not turn back.
He was possessed by a compulsion to erase the last doubtful hope from
his
consciousness. They must find Gildon; must see for themselves whether
some
miracle had preserved it in the same time-frame as Camulashivanava. And
there
were those among the crew who were in sympathy. In a mad universe why
should
anything be regarded as impossible?
They
sailed on into the heart of the
system. With the aging of the stars the trade winds they remembered no
longer
prevailed; their charts were useless. Rapitava needed all his skill to
steer a
course through the solar streams. Yet he triumphed: he brought them to
the
speck that was the planet Gildon.
Apprehensively,
the crew crowded the
Vimapor's ports, staring down at the globe of their home world, once
familiar,
now terrifyingly alien. No clouds veiled its devastated face. No seas
soothed
its burning surface. Even from the immense height at which they
orbited, it was
clear that Gildon had become a barren world.
They
quartered the planet's near space
in search of the orbital platform but found only some obviously ancient
debris
which might have been its remains.
"I
shall take the emergency
balloon and descend to the surface," announced Rashodanar bleakly. His
officers and crew argued but could not dissuade him. Rashodanar ordered
Rapitava to position the Vimapor as nearly as he could judge, above the
site of
vanished Yara. It seemed an impossible task but Rapitava was equal to
it. By
observing the movement of shadows across the surface as Gildon turned
and moved
its position relative to its six suns, he was able to draw a crude
relief map,
on which the ancient shore lines of dried up seas could he imagined.
Tentatively he identified the rough outlines with the coasts marked so
boldly
on the charts they carried and then guided the ship to a position
directly above
the spot where he believed the former capital of the Dimavatan Empire
had
stood.
Unable
to prevent their captain's
descent, the crew at least insisted that two of their number accompany
him. As
they embarked on their odyssey they were alarmed at the rate at which
the
balloon plummeted through the now rarefied atmosphere that had once
been so
thick, but after anxious moments it began to slow and finally to sink
planetward at a bearable speed. As they drifted lower, the terrible
change
which had afflicted their home world became plainer. There was no sign
of water
at all; no lakes, no rivers; no ponds, no streams. There was no sign of
vegetation; no trees, no grass; no bushes, no flowers. There was no
sign of
life at all; neither animals nor birds; no people and no buildings.
They
hit the desert with a slight jolt
not far from the only evidence that remained that Gildon had ever been
anything
but a lifeless world; the ruins of Castle Kada, and rising from its
centre,
miraculously preserved, the Tower of Jeratana.
It
was very hot as they slogged across
the dunes beneath the broiling sun and they were grateful for such
sullen shade
as the ruins afforded when they reached them. They paused and drank
some of the
water they had brought with them. The dampness it left on their lips
dried
instantly in the desiccated air.
Rashodanar's
restless impatience did
not allow them to tarry and they toiled across the courtyard to the
foot of the
tower. They stood there looking up at its dizzyingly high spire. The
surface of
the building was hard and smooth, untouched by the disaster that had
befallen
the rest of the planet. It was as though it stood in a time of its own.
They
moved slowly round the base of the tower until they came to the
entrance. It
was open. Sand rose half way up the opening and Rashodanar put his hand
forward
but encountered no obstruction. Resolutely he jumped from the piled
sand down
to the spotless floor of the entrance hall of the tower. His companions
followed.
Rashodanar
had visited the tower before
and looking round it seemed to him that it was as it had always been,
except
for a statue that stood in the centre of the hall. He approached it and
recognised the figure and the enigmatic features of Melgor Erdin,
Prince of the
Empire of Dimavata, whose name was inscribed in letters of gold on the
plinth
which supported the effigy.
He
stood for some time staring at the
glyphs and his companions were content to remain there with him in the
cool of
the tower. Eventually he roused himself and, without a word, leaped
through the
opening back to the burning sands that reached half of the way up it.
Followed
by the crewmen he strode across the dazzling desert towards the ruined
walls of
the courtyard. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and when
the others
caught up with him he explained, almost to himself.
"This
is where we sat, Mandalava
and I, in the days when we were happy."
They
entered an alcove, above which
the wall arched to provide a little shade. Rashodanar's attention was
caught by
a plaque. He stooped to read it, for the drifting sands had raised the
floor level
of the enclosure. Abruptly he dropped to his knees and began scraping
away the
sand to reveal a second inscription. For a few moments he remained on
his
knees, head bowed, and then he rose and turned to stare with unseeing
eyes
across the drifted sands.
His
companions bent to read. The first
few lines said simply:
Below
these was the second engraving:
(Page amended 21 July 2017)
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contents of this site are copyright © John Light.