Impossible Dreamers

Chapter 61 (faytwi-ir): The tunnellers

Everybody felt the room go cold, which was strange, because it was a warm day. Then the rock appeared. It appeared bit by bit, from the top down. As if it came slice by slice, each slice hanging in the air until it reached the ground. When it was fully and finally there, of the people in the hall, it was only those in the cage that recognised its shape. The shape of Greblara mountain. From its top there emerged a plume of smoke and dust, though the plume had none of the smell or taste that the real Greblara used to spout. It was like a moving, three dimensional picture of the mountain and its plume. But it was not entirely solid. You could see through it in places.

Was this, perhaps, another of Herago's Impossibles, people wondered. A spectacular climax to the display? Some people clearly thought so. Low murmurs of 'elbissopmi' could be heard coming from a few places in the hall.

But having appeared out of nowhere, the rock had another surprise to offer. No sooner had the shape of the mountain registered with Liana, Herago, Piacho and Selentaya, than it changed. Smoothly it transformed itself into a box, and the box resembled nothing more than the picture that had been displayed as Tyro spoke about his 'invention' a few moments before. But whereas the mountain had been partly transparent, this looked like a solid, material object. A box, tall enough to hold a shortish person, but with a square base only just big enough for one person to fit inside. A brown and grey mottled pattern on the outside, like the shadows of rocks.

'Wait a minute' said Tyro. 'I thought we didn't have one of those machines. Did you manage to make one, Sleech? How did it get here? Is somebody driving it?'

Sleech walked over to the box. 'No need to fear, Great Leader,' he said. 'This is merely another of the so-called Impossibles of the Grabbler children and the renegade inventor, Pritch. Like their other demonstrations, it is a pretence, an illusion. It has no substance. We will soon get rid of it.' He kicked the box hard. In doing so he demonstrated that the apparition was very solid, and he struggled to hide the pain he felt in his left big toe.

'Guardians, remove this object!' Sleech commanded, hobbling away from the box. Some, but not all of the Guardians around the stage moved hesitantly towards the box. Then stopped and froze as a door at the front of the box opened. From inside stepped a tall woman wearing an elaborately patterned cloak. She looked remarkably comfortable for somebody who had been confined in such a small space.

'Greetings, Friends,' the woman announced. Her voice was bold and confident, reaching to the very back of the hall. Her dark features and long, black, braided hair marked her out as definitely not a Bartyronian. The smile on her face was broader than any found on the stick-on smiles of those in the hall, and she radiated warmth and friendliness, in contrast to the fear and hostility that seemed to emanate from Tyro and Sleech. There were some cheers in the hall, which caused Sleech to cast sharp looks around, but he could not see where the cheers were coming from.

Tyro looked on with his mouth wide open. Then he let out a small whimper and ran down the steps of his throne, tripping as he did so, so that he found himself on the floor with his hat beside him and his straggly greasy hair showing. He quickly picked up his hat, stood up and ran behind the throne.

'Who are you? How did you get here?' Sleech demanded of the woman.

'Are you going to hurt us?' added Tyro, quietly, from behind the throne.

'I am Karema, Contor of the Wise Ones of the Shadowlands. We have been observing these proceedings from our craft, which we were surprised to discover was, apparently, invented by Tyro.'

Tyro shuddered. 'I didn't invent ... I don't even know anything about .... What are you going to do? Will you hurt us? Please don't,' he pleaded.

'We are not here to punish you, Tyro. Like Herago and Liana, we are here to take part in your festival, and to show the people of Bartyronis and the world our new invention.'