White lightning scythes
through my brain, splitting me in two halves. I look out and see the hordes enveloping
us – thousands upon thousands, a damp grey ocean of Urghan workers heaving and
pulsing around us in deep tidal currents. Then the lightning parts them too and
through the middle strides not one, but three bold souls. A holy triumvirate of
women – Filiae Dei, Daughters of God, and as they march, their light falls upon
the hordes like a balm, calming the stormy waters and setting the seething
maelstrom to rest. With quiet expectation the three women stand and wait, looking
out over tens of thousands of Urghan males. Though only those in front have
direct sight of the women, those behind sense them. It is as if they are all of
one mind, as if one electrical current of thought holds them all in thrall.
Shim begins talking to
the crowd now, her quiet voice penetrating to the centre of their being, as if
she is whispering personally in their ear. It is only her soft voice that is
keeping this great grey ocean of unhappy misery from sweeping over us and
drowning us. Her voice seems to reach out to the ends of the universe. The
crowd is deathly quiet as they listen, mainly because most of these men have
never seen a woman before. To them they are creatures of myth and legend. And
they certainly look so now.
“My name is Shim. I am one of a handful of women who escaped from the
breeding dens of the Seesh and now live in the mountain caves. For many years
we have battled the Seesh from our mountain stronghold but we have never been
strong enough to defeat him. We have tried time and again to free our sisters
held in captivity but we have been too few and he has been too powerful. Now he
is on the verge of carrying out a monstrous plan to abandon us and leave us to all
to die.” She paused as her words echoed across the
landscape.
“And when he leaves thou shalt not be going with him. When that
spaceship takes off thou shalt not be on it.” She
paused to let this sink in. “There is no
place in there for thee. More than that, he will abandon all thy women and
leave them to die out there in the forbidden zone. Nearly half a million of
them, the women whom ye yearn for, who were stolen from thee and kept in
suspended animation deep under the desert.”
The silence is eerie.
Hardly a breath is drawn.
“They are the dreamers. He is using them as he used thee. The launch
of this spaceship will drain all their energy and kill them.”
She pauses and looks
around her, flints of fire sparking in her eyes.
“The ship is now complete. The Seesh has no more need of thee. Thy job
is over. He merely keeps thee occupied with cleaning and polishing, but thou
art no longer needed. Soon the doors will be sealed and so will thy fate…and
mine…and all the women he has enslaved.”
The Urghan continue to
stand staring spell-bound at the woman.
“But thou art many, and together we can beat him. True, thou might die
if thou fights the Seesh – but thou WILT surely die if thou dost not.”
She turns slowly as she
speaks and looks at the crowd. She is shorter than the men but she seems to
tower above them.
“We do not trust thee,” someone cries and breaks
the spell she has weaved so forcefully.
“Thee be swamp spirits – come to play evil tricks upon uz.”
“We are not spirits and we are not evil. We are real like thee. Step
forth and touch me if thou wishes for proof.”
There is a lot of
sniggering amongst the front rows at this remark but none of the men have the
nerve to touch a woman, much less an evil spirit.
“It is the Seesh that is thy foe. Not us. Thou must rise up against
him. He is thine enemy not thy friend. He is the one who has taken away thy
women.”
“It be a bit too late for that,” comes a voice
from deep in the crowd. “Uz have found
our own ways…without women…if you know what I mean. Among men.”
“Only some of uz,” calls another
scornfully.
“So says you Grobsucker. I seed you sneak many a time into Herdan’s
hovel…”
“Be that as it may. That’s just necessity. Given a choice I’d rather
have a woman. Most of us would.”
They are just about to
start an argument when Shim takes control again.
“It is more than the women. It is your freedom we are talking about.
It is your LIFE at stake. If thou dost not do something now it will be too
late,” she proclaims passionately, her thee’s and
thou’s falling by the wayside in her fervour to try and convince them.
Then I notice Garm
looking at her with an expression that can only be termed – besotted. Mind you,
to be fair, I think many men fell in love with her at that moment. Then the
crowd parts and a male pushes his way to the front. At first I thought it was a
ghost, for it glowed white, but then I see it is just another worker…one who has
just come off shift and is covered in bone dust. But he has a different feel to
him. He isn’t as apathetic as the others, as if his spirit is still alive.
“I will do it,” he says. “I have seen these things too. Many of us have. We just haven’t been
brave enough to speak thereof. I have also seen how there iz no accommodation
for uz on board. But more than this,” he says, raising his voice for the
crowd, “I have seen how the Seesh
despises uz, how he withdraws from any sort of contact with uz, as if we are
diseased. These women are right. Why would he want to take uz with him? He has
no need of uz. Neither is he a charitable person. We know that by now…surely.
How much more proof do we need? I am for these people. If you had any sense,
you would be too. What do we have to lose? We are dead already. We just don’t
know it.”
There is an
uncomfortable shifting about in the crowd, as if they don’t know whether to
step forward or backward.
“I agree,” shouts someone from the crowd. “I too,” says another.
Then more and more voices are heard as the sentiment
is passed to those at the back of the crowd. Soon there is a hum of excitement
that is almost overwhelming. I take a moment to look at Shim. She smiles at me.
“I’m glad you came
back,” I say. She shrugs.
“We got cut off.” But
that is all she has time for. The crowd is beginning to surge.
“It is time to move,”
she says. “Follow me.” Shim points at
the Citadel and the crowd parts to let us through. The die is cast. The big
march begins.
