The Fall of Tartarus Page 11

  The following weeks passed in pleasant days spent in the tree or enjoying barbecues beside the lake. I never spoke with Hulse about his lie concerning the dare, and he for his part never stooped to his old barbs or bullying tactics. While I could not claim that we became friends, I was willing to forget old enmities, and we got along reasonably well. Even Susanna, the daughter of a rich businessman from Baudelaire, became one of the group. She exchanged her dress for more suitable clothing, dispensed with make-up and joined in with our juvenile games and jokes. Hulse seemed devoted to her; they too made their excuses, disappeared in the afternoon. I never had any reason to suspect that he was merely using her to his own ends.

  There was a solar flare that summer, a great gout of flame that exploded from the bloated sun and illuminated the sky for a full week. We took to camping on the platform at night, watching the spectacular gold and magenta aurora flicker from horizon to horizon. For a month after the flare the temperature climbed day by day; the land was parched and seared, and the authorities declared Mallarme province a total fire ban area. We sunbathed beside the lake and went without our barbecues.

  Later that summer Leah and I spent long days alone together, wandering through the hills, staying at rest-houses and hostels - playing, in other words, at being grown up. We spent evenings alone in the high meadows, watching the tiny shapes of the flying Messengers as they went about their business. It seemed inconceivable that the summer might end. I knew that in a month we would return to our respective schools, but a month was a long time, and anyway there would be all the years in the future that we would be able spend together. I was young, and in love, and it was entirely forgivable that I should give no thought to the possibility that we might ever be parted.

  Fifty years . . .

  As I sat with my back against the rearing hollow-tree, staring out across the sun-drenched lake, it seemed impossible that half a century had elapsed since those innocent children played and loved in the branches high above. If I listened hard enough, I convinced myself that I could hear their laughter, far away.

  Tragedy, in retrospect, always seems so terribly arbitrary and accidental - the culminating consequence of so many smaller incidents and occurrences that we are as powerless to prevent at the time as we are after the event. How often down the years had I looked back and tried to discern, in vain, some obvious signal or pointer as to what was about to happen?

  * * * *

  The prelude to the finale came when Leah asked me about my encounter with Zur-zellian. We lay side by side on our stomachs, our chins hooked over the lips of the fungus, and stared down at the lake. The others had not yet arrived.

  Leah lodged her chin on her fist and said, ‘Tell me ‘bout the Zillion again, Joe.’

  I laughed and recounted the meeting. I must have gone over the events of the day a hundred times with her. She seemed fascinated with the story, and when I said as much she just gave the laziest of her smiles and drawled, ‘Might never have come to love you, Joe, but for the alien.’

  She quizzed me about its coloration, the sound of its voice. She asked me what it had said, and seemed dissatisfied that I had not thought to ask it more about itself.

  I dropped a twig over the edge, watched it fall for ages before hitting the water and creating an ever widening concentric ripple.

  ‘Look,’ I said at last, having made my decision, ‘why don’t we go over to the island and I’ll introduce you to Zur-zellian.’

  She lifted her face from her fist and stared at me. ‘You would?’

  ‘Why not? He’s an old friend, after all. Zur-zellian, meet Miss Leah Reverdy. Leah, meet Mr Zur-zellian, the resident on the island for two hundred years.’

  She laughed. ‘We can go today? This afternoon?’

  I had prepared myself for a lazy day in the tree. ‘How about tomorrow afternoon?’ I suggested. ‘We can pick salafex pods and paddle over, okay?’

  She hugged me. ‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘Look forward to that.’

  The others arrived, shortly after that. It was Susanna’s last day in Verlaine, as she was leaving for Baudelaire with her father in the morning. Hulse brought wine and a hamper and threw a farewell party. I recall little of the actual event, except that I felt a vague uneasiness. With Susanna around, Hulse had been tolerable, even - though I’m loath to admit it - friendly. I wondered what might happen when Susanna left. Would Hulse still seek our company, try to win Leah back? As if to confirm my fears, I caught him sneaking glances at her when he thought I wasn’t looking. Evidently, Leah noticed his attention, too. Later that afternoon, she pulled me to my feet in front of Hulse and suggested out loud that I take her to a dream-sac.

  The following afternoon Leah called for me and we walked hand in hand to the lake. I climbed a salafex tree and threw two great seed pods down to her. We stripped to our shorts and kicked off our shoes, then waded into the water, clutching the pods which we used as floats. Now that the time had come for Leah to meet the alien, I could sense that she was as apprehensive as she was excited. Even I felt a tingle of nervousness as we set off from the shore and swam leisurely in the direction of the island.

  With the rise in temperature since the solar flare, the water of the lake had warmed. With the seed pod to keep me afloat, this crossing was a luxury compared to the last. We took our time and arrived at the island within fifteen minutes. I held Leah’s hand as we stood on the beach, staring up at the grassy knoll as if expecting the alien to appear at any second. Exhibiting a bravery I would not have felt if I were alone, I squeezed Leah’s hand and led her up the beach to the centre of the island. The grass was tinder-dry and yellowed, rustling against our feet as we walked up the knoll.

  Perhaps alerted by the sound of our footsteps, the alien appeared at the entrance to his subterranean lair - a circular hollow for all the world like a rabbit burrow, though larger. At the sight of his broad, green face in the shadows, his golden eyes staring out like beacons, Leah started and jumped back, clutching my hand. I reassured her that it was okay, and waved in greeting to Zur-zellian.

  He emerged from the burrow, his arm outstretched in a repeat of the greeting we had exchanged weeks before. We sat down, Leah kneeling cautiously by my side, the alien bending into his familiar, wide-kneed crouch.

  I made the introduction. ‘This is Leah,’ I said, ‘my friend.’

  Hesitantly, she reached out and touched fingertips with the alien. ‘Welcome to my island, Leah,’ he said in his slow, bubbling voice.

  ‘Joe . . . Joe told me about meeting you,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Wanted to meet you, ask you questions, if you don’t mind?’

  He turned his hand in a gesture that might have indicated acceptance. ‘I will answer what I can.’

  Leah turned to me and smiled.

  She shrugged and stared wide-eyed at the alien. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘where to begin . . . ?’ She paused, then spoke with exaggerated care, pronouncing each word separately. ‘Of course: where do you come from, which planet?’

  Zur-zellian blinked. ‘From Zanthar, the small planet of a small sun beyond the star cluster you humans know as the Nilakantha Stardrift.’

  ‘Joe said you’ve been here two hundred years,’ she went on. ‘But why Tartarus? Why did you come here?’

  ‘Because ... I had to go somewhere. Tartarus was quiet, secluded. At that time, there was no community beside the lake. I needed to be alone to meditate, and the island was perfect.’

  ‘Meditate . . .’ Leah said, savouring the word. ‘Are you a philosopher?’

  The alien blinked. ‘I am what humans would call a monk.’

  Leah turned to me and made an exaggerated, drop-jawed expression of surprise. She returned her attention to Zur-zellian. ‘A monk? Do you believe in a God?’ We had discussed this between ourselves over the weeks, usually after making love in the evenings and staring up at the stars. Leah had confidently proclaimed herself an atheist, and I, having never really given the matter much thought, agreed that I was, too.r />
  The alien replied, ‘I believe in gods, in many gods. Over the years I have come to know them.’

  ‘You have?’ Leah goggled. ‘You came to Tartarus to meet the gods?’

  I could not tell from its facial features, but I wondered if the alien was smiling at her. ‘To meet the gods and my destiny.’

  ‘Destiny . . .’ she repeated the word in a whisper. ‘You’ll meet your destiny on Tartarus?’

  ‘I will remain here until the end,’ he said.

  ‘You’re staying here?’ Leah almost cried.

  ‘It is my destiny to go in flame.’

  She was shaking her head. I could see her mind working, her disbelief reflected in her features. She was a young girl, and life seemed endless, and she could not comprehend how the alien could so stoically contemplate his death.

  ‘But you could leave with the evacuation,’ she said.

  ‘I have had a long life. I have achieved everything. I will follow my destiny.’

  We remained on the island for perhaps an hour, Leah asking Zur-zellian all manner of questions. I delighted in watching her response, her exclamations of surprise, her frowns and grimaces, as much as I was interested in the alien’s answers.

  At last, after a thoughtful silence, she said slowly, ‘If you’re a monk, a religious person, then can you marry people?’

  I stared at her, but she would not meet my gaze.

  Zur-zellian replied. ‘On my planet we have certain . . . bonding ceremonies, and I officiated at them, yes.’

  ‘Then, in that case ... I mean - could you marry Joe and me?’

  Still looking at the alien, she found my hand and squeezed, forestalling my protests.

  Zur-zellian was old and wise, and must have known that we were young and foolish. In his reply he showed great . . . humanity, if that is the right word to use. He turned his hand in an equable gesture. ‘My blessing would have no legality on Tartarus,’ he said, ‘but, if both of you are willing, I can bless you and so confirm your love in the eyes of the gods.’

  By the time we left the island, clutching our seed pods and paddling for the far shore, Leah had arranged a date. We were to be ‘married’ in a week’s time, on her fourteenth birthday.

  It remained our secret; we did not want our friends to know in case word got back to our parents. Leah glowed with the knowledge of what was to take place. She seemed radiant, her contented, lazy smile ever-present. The others noticed something changed about her - Gabby even asked her if she were pregnant, but Leah just smiled and shook her head and withdrew into silent communion with her thoughts.

  My immediate fears concerning Hulse were unfounded. With Susanna departed, he did not bother us with his company, clearly unwilling to be seen as the odd one out in the group. A couple of times over the next day or two I did see him standing across the lane from the hollow-tree, staring at us with what I interpreted to be solitary longing. Not that his brooding presence overly bothered me: I had other things on my mind, and I no longer considered Hulse a threat.

  When he made his move, I was quite unprepared.

  We spent the day before our ‘wedding’ walking in the hills, and night was falling by the time we made our way back home. I had decided, since it was a special occasion, that Leah should spend the night with me in my room. I would sneak her in past my parents and for the first time we would make love in my bed.

  We were walking up the track, our arms about each other, when Hulse appeared from nowhere and barred our way. He carried a wooden club, and before I could collect my wits and run, he attacked.

  I recall only a hail of blows, and Leah’s screamed entreaties for him to stop, before I fell to the ground and tried to squirm away. He came after me, kicked me in the ribs so that I rolled gasping onto my back. Then he straddled my chest. He forced the club beneath my chin and pushed my head back, almost strangling me.

  His head hung above me, silhouetted against the star field, and his long fringe fell across his face as he panted with the exertion of keeping me pinioned to the ground. I bucked like a landed fish, but he applied pressure to my neck. I spluttered that he was killing me.

  ‘I will kill you, you bastard! I’ll kill you if you don’t leave Leah!’

  I tried my best to laugh. Then I swore and spat in his face. He grimaced down at me, and his expression, more than his assault, sent a surge of fear though me.

  ‘It was going so well . . . and then you came along, you bastard!’

  And with the epithet he pressed down on the club, and I swear he would have killed me were it not for what Leah did then.

  She had been silent for some seconds, and I had assumed she’d gone for help - but now she returned, staggering, burdened with some heavy object. She lifted the boulder above her head and brought it down with terrifying force. Hulse cried out in pain and rolled from me, holding his head and moaning. I sat up, alternately gagging and gasping down great breaths of air. Leah, not done with her attack, launched herself at Hulse and bundled him into the ditch. She leaned over him and hissed invective in his face, the words too rapid and impassioned for me to make out. He cried out in wounded pride at what she said, climbed to his feet and staggered off down the lane. Leah ran across to me and helped me to my feet.

  ‘Joe! You okay, Joe?’

  ‘I’ll live,’ I assured her, shaking now at the thought of the assault. ‘The maniac! The crazy, stinking maniac . . .’

  ‘Come on, we’ll get you home.’

  We continued up the lane and into the garden. It was late, and the house was in darkness. Silently we crept though the entrance arch and up the stairs to my room. There Leah inspected me. But for a few minor scrapes and a bruise across my neck, I was fine.

  She insisted on bathing my battered torso, and I basked in her concern.

  That night we made love in my bed as the cooling breeze lapped over us, and at first light next morning Leah rose quickly and dressed.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ I said sleepily from the bed.

  She came over and kissed me before she slipped away. ‘Meet you on the island at noon,’ she whispered.

  ‘Why not by the lake? We can swim over together.’

  She pushed her fingers through my hair. ‘Don’t you know anything, Joe? Bride and groom don’t go to church together . . .’ And with that she hurried from the room.

  I slept, then woke to the sunlight streaming through the window. I lay in bed and smelled Leah’s scent on the sheets, and the thought of what the day would bring was a physical thrill within my chest. An hour before noon I rose and dressed and crossed to the drawer where I’d concealed Leah’s birthday present, a silver necklace. It was then, standing beside the window-hole, that I glanced out and saw activity in the lake.

  A moving divot of displaced water showed on the otherwise pristine azure expanse. As I stared, I saw others, five or six - swimmers, I realised with disbelief, heading out from the shore towards the island.

  My heart hammering, I pocketed the necklace and ran from the house. I sprinted down the lane, angered that on this day of all days others should decide to go to the island. I emerged from the lane and came to a halt on the shore. I stared out across the water and saw that the first swimmer was Hulse, with the others in his wake; they seemed to be gesturing and shouting at him to turn back.

  We had told no one about our marriage, and so his invasion could only be a terrible coincidence. Almost in tears, I cursed Hulse and swore that I would kill him. By the time I dived into the water, deciding not to waste time collecting a seed pod to aid my crossing, Hulse had reached the island.

  I swam with all my might, intent only on doing grievous harm to my enemy. The others had gained the island and stood in knot on the beach, clearly remonstrating with Hulse. I was wondering what had happened to Leah, when I saw her. She appeared suddenly on the knoll atop the island, arms akimbo, and stared down at the invaders.

  I could tell by her stance that she was furious. Hulse advanced up the beach, followed by the others.
Gasping and swimming frantically, I watched as events unfolded in a terrible, inevitable slow-motion.

  Hulse confronted Leah and for perhaps a minute they argued: Then he stepped forward and struck her. She staggered back, holding her cheek. At that second Zur-zellian appeared by her side. Hulse went for Leah again, hit her and knocked her down; she stumbled from sight, disappearing down the other side of the rise.

  Then Hulse turned to the alien. I cried out in rage and frustration. The others, my friends, Bobby and Gabby, Rona and even the soporific Satch, surrounded Hulse. He pushed them away, ran to the top of the island and, instead of attacking the alien, which I had expected, knelt and seemed to reach into the grass. I saw something silver glint in his hand - his lighter! - and pure dread exploded in my head.