Authors: Iain M. Banks
Feersum Endjinn (17 page)
Ther wer a cupl ov noviss bruthirs in thi fewnikuler car wif me; they wer a bit drunk, & singin loudly. I thot 1 ov them seemd 2 rekognise me but I juss lookt away & he ignoard me 2.
They kept singin as thi car wen slowly up thi curve ov thi buttris. I wooden ½ minded, but they woz out ov tune.
Little-Big, Little-Big, Little-Big!We’re thi Mediums who don’t give a fig!
Wel, heerza fine 2-do, I sed 2 myself, cyan & starin out thi window & tryin 2 ignore thi noyse & ther beery brefs. I lookt out thi windo; it woz dusk by this time & thi lites wer on in thi fewnikular car’s cabin & thi sky outside lookt pretti & ver culirfil.
When you’re dead, when you’re dead, when you’re dead,We’ll happily live inside your heh - ehd!
O, whot thi hek, I thot.
In a way whot I woz goan 2 do wude make thi trip longer not shorter but @ least Id ½ sum respite from ol this cheeri-drunkin shit, & evin if I forgot my return code agen theez noizi prats wude wake me up soon enuf. I dipt in2 thi kript, intendin 2 spend mayb ½ a sekind in thare.
Les than that woz qwite enuf.
Ther wos sumthin goin on.
Thi furst place u go from transport is in2 a representayshin ov thi cassils transport sistim, a transparint holo ov thi fastniss with thi toob, train & fewnikuler lines, lift shafts, roads, hydrovater lines & clifter slots ol highlited. Then u moov on 2 whare u want 2 go elsewhare in thi kript. Moast bags doan evin spare this setup a passin glanse, but if yoor sumthin ov a conasewer ov thi kript’s states, like I am, then u juss alwiz swing pass this sort ov fing & chek it out & do a qwik comparisun wif actule movemints 2 c if Transports on its bols or not. Upshot is, if thers anythin amiss u spot it, like I spottd thi transport setup woznt qwite rite.
It lookd like ther woz a odd kinda hole aroun thi monastry; nuthin movin out, juss stuff in-goin. Ver strainj, I thot. I didn go no furthir in2 thi kript. I chekd thi monastrys kript-biz durin thi afternoon. Definit faze-chainj in thi trafic aroun a our ago. Sumbodi tryin 2 make thing luke normil when they wernt.
Whare woz bro Scalopins usual col 2 thi
Marshin Daze
storyline, 4 exampil? Or sis Ecropé’s t-time interlope wif hir luvir in thi Uitlandir embasy? Ol replaicd by makin-up-numbers trafic, thats whare.
Marshin Daze
storyline, 4 exampil? Or sis Ecropé’s t-time interlope wif hir luvir in thi Uitlandir embasy? Ol replaicd by makin-up-numbers trafic, thats whare.
I new I woz probly bin paranoid, but I woried ol thi saim.
Thi fewnikuler woz dew 2 make 1 more stop b4 thi stayshin Id normaly get off @. I told it 2 stop asap.
A minit later it did, & I got off @ this litl sily halt ¾ ov thi way up thi butris which served a cupl ov clan-execs luv nests, a old babil farm & a glider club, all ov them desertid. Thi 2 bros I left on thi fewnikuler lookd puzzld but waivd by-by & kept singin as thi car trundld away agen.
Then ther woz a thump in mi hed. Thi fewnikular car stopt, then reversd & clunked & whird bak down 2wards me.
Thi thump in mi hed woz sum bastird tryin 2 nok me out wif a bit ov feedbak from thi kript; fearetikly imposibl & teknikly diffcult but it can b dun & thi jolt Id juss got wude ½ nokd out moast peepil, only Ive got thi eqwivalent ov shok absorbers coz Im a tellir & ther4 used 2 gettin a ruf ride from thi kript.
Thi fewnikewlar car woz comin glowing bak down thi curvd track, its cabin lites reflectin off thi babil plants festoonin thi broad archd bak ov thi butris. Thi 2 bros inside wer @ thi bak windo, starin @ me. They din luke so drunk now, & they wos each holdin fings in ther hands that could ½ bin guns.
O shit, I fot.
I ran down a spiral stareway @ thi side ov thi butriss. I herd thi car stop abuv me. Thi stairway went on & on & on & on spiralin all thi time & I thot when it levils out am not goan b able 2 stop goan roun; theyl find me whirlin roun in a tite litl circl unabil 2 go strate. I hit thi botom & sheer terrir proovd a ver iffishint coarse-stratener. I raced across a gantry slung underneaf thi stonewurk & went down anothir stairway set agenst a metil-frame bildin on thi far side ov thi butress. Footsteps clanged behind me.
I cairn out on a brod balcony & dodjed thru a doarway & down sum moar steps in2 a sort ov hanger whare old gliders sat tilted like grate goastly stif-wingd burdz & a bunch ov litl bats startid chatterin & flying roun my hed. Footsteps abuv, then behind. O shit o shit o shit. Thi bats wer kikin up a heluva rakit.
I spottid a ladir agenst 1 wol leedin down thru thi floor & I ran 4 it. Sumbody shouted bhind me; thi footsteps slappd loud. Sumthin went, Bang! & a glider next 2 me explodid wif flame & loss a wing; thi blast ov air woz warm & almost nokd me off ma feet.
I thru myself @ thi ladir, held thi sides & dropt, sliding down without usin ma feet @ ol, hitin thi floor & twistin ma ankil.
I wos in sum kinda circular platform slung undir thi glider bildin. Nufin but air underneaf & nowhare 2 go. I lookd bak @ thi ladir. Thi footsteps were rite abuv me.
I herd a noise like qwuik, distant surf, & a huge blak shape lifted from under thi platform on wings longir than Im tol. It waverd in thi air alongside then graspd @ thi thin metil rale roun thi platform on thi far side from thi ladir, its talins gripin thi rale while its wings beat qwickly & almost silent bak & ford.
I cude heer sumbody cumin down thi ladir, breevin hard.
Here! shoutid thi blak shape @ thi othir side ov thi platform. Id fot it woz a bird but it woz more like a giant bat. Its wings clapped in & out in & out.
Qwickly! it sed.
I fink if thi bros cumin down thi ladir hadnt shot @ me in thi hanger I wooden ½ gon, but they had so I did.
I ran 4 thi big bat. It held its feet out. I grabd its ankils & it wrapt its talins roun ma rists makin me shout with thi bone-crunchin pane while it poold me off thi platform, crakin my nees off thi rale.
We twisted & dropt like thi thing cuden cary me & I screemd, then it spred its wings wif a snap & I neerly loss my grip as we curvd out & away. Light sparkld abuv me & I herd thi bat cry out but I woz 2 bizy lookin down @ thi dark fields in thi alure, 5 or 600 metres blow & thinking wel, if I die, thers still anuthir 7 lives 2 go. Xcept I didn fink that woz rite sumhow, I rekind whotevir trubil I woz in went beyond this life & I woznt garanteed anuthir 7 lives or evin 1.
I held on tite, but thi light crackled agen & thi bat thing judderd in thi air & cried out agen & I smeld smoke. We lurched & side-slipped 2wards thi wol ov thi grate hol, then fel like thi proverbyal, & in a screem ov air & a screem from me dippd blow thi alure & thi parapet & went on down til we wer levil wif thi lowir bretasche, whare thi bat wheeld roun so hard I lost my grip on its scaly legs & only its steel-like clasp on my rists stopt me from falin 2 thi roof ov thi 2nd level towr underneef.
Felt like my arms were about 2 pop out ma sokets. Id ½ screemed but thi bref woz gon from me.
Thi air shreiked roun ma ears as we plumitid btween thi grate towr & thi 2nd level wall, down in2 a layer ov cloud whare I cooden c a dam fing & it woz freezin cold, then we turnd in what I thot woz thi direcshin ov thi towr & outa thi mist loomd this bleedin grate rock wall. I closd mi Is.
We twisted 1ce, twice & I went - few - 2 myself but when I opend mi Is we woz stil hedin strate 4 nakid stonewurk. O fuk, I fot, but by then Id decidid Id rathir die wif ma Is opin. @ thi last momint we liftid, I saw hangin bunchis ov foleyidje strung from thi machicolation abuv & a instant later we crashd in2 thi babil; my sholder woz renched & I woz thrown off thi bat & in2 thi babil, grabbin @ leevs & twigs & branchis & slippin & fallin down thru it.
Thi bat beat fewriously, shoutin, Hold on! Hold on! while I tryd 2 get a hold on thi dam stuf.
Hold on! it shouted agen.
Am bludy tryin 2! I yelld.
U safe?
Juss about, I sed, huggin a big strand ov babil like it wos a long-loss mum or sumthin, not abil 2 look behind but stil heerin thi big bat flap & beet @ my bak.
Am sorri I cuden help u moar, thi bat sez. U mus saiv uself now. Thare lookin 4 u. Bware thi kript. Keep
outa
things! Erch! Erch! I mus go. Farewell, hoomin.
outa
things! Erch! Erch! I mus go. Farewell, hoomin.
Yeh, & 2 u, I shoutid, turnin roun 2 luke @ it. & fanks!
Then thi big bat dropt, & I saw it disapeer in thi mist, fallin away strate down, traylin smoak & then juss b4 I loss site ov it curvin away followin thi circumferince ov thi towr, beetin hard but lookin week & still follin.
Disappeered.
I crolld in2 thi darkniss ov thi babil, nursin ma aiks.
O deer Bascule, I sed 2 myself. O deer o deer o deer.
I spent thi nite in thi foleyidje, constintly dreemin ov flyin thru thi air wif Ergates in ma hand but then droppin hir & hir tumblin away & me not bein abil 2 catch hir & mi wings cumin off & me follin 2 & screemin thru thi air, then wakin clutchin thi branchiz, shiverin & cuverd in swet.
So heer I am, lookin up @ thi fass-tower & Ive spent sum time so far this mornin tryin 2 pluk up thi curidje 2 go strate bak in2 thi kript 2 find out whots goan on & look 4 poor litil Ergates & this time tak no nonsins ... & Ive also spent sum time vowin nevir 2 evin fink ov thi bleedin kript agen & desidin not 2 deside about it 4 now & so insted am juss sitin heer wonderin whot am 2 do in jeneril & not abil 2 cum 2 a disishin on that scoar nevir.
I turn ovir in ma litl nest agen & luke down thru thi branchis & this time I freez & stair, coz I can c this big animil cumin climin up thru thi babil; iss bleedin hooj, thi size ov a bare & iss got thik blak fur with streeks ov green on it & iss got big shiny blak claws & iss lukin @ me wif 2 litl beedy Is & a funy pointid hed & iss cumin up thi branch am on, strate 2words me.
O shit, I heer myself say, lukin roun 2 c if thers a way 2 escape.
Ther isnt. O shit.
Thi animil opins its mouf. Its teef r thi size ov ma fingirs.
... Shtay whare u r! it hissis.
1
‘In those days the world was not a garden and the people were not idle as they are now. Then on the face of the world there was real wilderness, empty of humanity, and the wilderness that humanity created, the wilderness that it packed with itself and which it called City. People toiled and people idled and the toilers worked for themselves and yet not for themselves and the idle did no work or little work and what they did, did only for themselves; money was all-powerful then and people said they made it work for them but money cannot work, only people and machines can work.’
Asura listened, fascinated but confused. The speaker was a thin middle-aged woman dressed in a plain ivory-coloured smock. Her feet were hobbled with a half-metre-long iron rod attached to wood-lined cuffs whose internal surfaces had been polished smooth and bright by friction with her skin. Her hands were similarly secured. She stood in the centre of the open gondola, chanting more than talking, her gaze raised to the belly-bulging underside of the airship above and her voice raised to cope with the noise of the craft’s engines and the slipstream swirling over the gondola’s semi-transparent bulwarks. Asura looked around, wondering at the effect this strange, declaiming woman must be having on her fellow travellers. She was surprised to find that she seemed to be the only person paying the woman any attention.
Asura had been standing at the airship’s deck rail watching the plain roll past beneath and had seen the first line of blue hills appear through the haze. She had been waiting for her first glimpse of the great castle, but the woman’s steady voice and odd words had intrigued her.
She left the rail to find a seat close to the woman. As she moved between the tables and chairs, she looked towards the bow of the gondola, where the upper deck’s round transparent nose bulged out, part of a huge sunstruck circle veined with the dark lines of struts, and suddenly she was reminded of something she’d seen in her dreams last night.
She sat down, feeling dizzy.
In a great dark space there was a huge circle, subdivided into smaller circles by thin dark lines like rings of ripples in a disturbed pool, and further subdivided by similarly fine lines radiating from the very centre of the circle. The circle was an enormous window; stars shone beyond it.
She could hear a clock ticking.
Something moved at one edge of the great circle. Looking closely she could see it was a figure; somebody walking along the horizontal ray-line from the edge to the centre of the circular window. She looked more closely still, and saw that the person was herself.
She walked along until she stood in the very centre of the vast aperture, looking out through a central pane of some substance she knew was more hard and clear and strong than glass. Far below, there was a landscape of luminous grey; a circular depression of shallow, undulating hills surrounded by cliffs and mountains, lit from one side and full of deep, black shadows. The clock still ticked. She stood for a while, admiring the stars, and thinking that the circle of the great window mirrored the shape of the circular plain it overlooked.
Then the clock-sound speeded up, ticking faster and faster until it was a ripping, buzzing noise in her ears; the shadows swung across the landscape and the bright orb of the sun tore across the sky, then abruptly the sun vanished and the noise of the clock changed, took on a kind of rhythm until the noise speeded up again and became the buzz it had been before. She could barely see the landscape below. The stars blazed.
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