Engineman - Eric Brown [73]
Ella had followed the old alien into the fissure in the rock. As they walked the defile widened, became a gorge with jungle plants clinging to its sides. They climbed a narrow path, the old alien pacing ahead with long, sure-footed strides. The rockface on each side tilted back, opened out to form an ever-widening valley. Well-worn paths striated the sides of the valley like contour lines.
When Ella asked, "Please, is L'Endo okay? Why does he want to see me?" the Lho either failed to understand or chose to ignore her. They passed scampering children, tiny and golden, who hardly reached to Ella's knees. She felt eyes watching her from the entrances of caves on either side of the valley.
More than once she considered turning back. The further they went, the more they entered into alien territory, with animals and plants Ella had never seen before and dozens of aliens who stopped to stare at her. But the thought that L'Endo wished to see her kept her going.
At last the old Lho paused before a dark cave entrance overhung with creepers. He gestured inside. "L'Endo is ill," he said now. "Many of my people have succumbed to the plague." He swept his arm in a scything gesture, his face expressionless.
Ella felt something growing within her; a disbelief that was physical and hard in her chest, threatening to burst with rage and anguish.
Hesitantly she stepped into the cave. A flickering brand lit the nether recesses. In the half-light she made out a figure lying on packed animals skins. Someone crouched beside L'Endo, administering mouthfuls of water from a conch shell. At a word from the old Lho behind Ella, the nurse stood and hurried out. Ella felt a hand on her elbow, gesturing her forward.
She approached her friend and sat down next to him.
L'Endo turned his head and stared at her, and in the hesitant light of the brand Ella saw that the right side of his face had dissolved, the flesh fluid and suppurating, the infrastructure of muscle beneath subsided.
The cry she stifled seemed to resonate in every part of her body, filling her with pain. She quickly dashed tears from her cheeks.
Something clutched her fingers, and when she looked down she saw that it was L'Endo's frail hand. Wound around his wrist was the rock painting she had given him.
"Five of your days he has been ill," the old Lho whispered to her. "L'Endo, and many more of my people. We can do little. We can only rejoice at their passing."
She stared at the old alien through her tears. "What do you mean?" she spluttered.
The alien sighed. "Humans..."
L'Endo moved his head closer to Ella, spoke in a voice even lighter than his usual whispery register.
The old Lho translated. "L'Endo says, 'Do not cry for me, be happy.' This is the moment for which he has lived his life. Truly, Ella, he gives thanks that he is passing. He gives thanks that he has experienced this life and will experience the next."
Ella felt L'Endo's fingers squeeze hers. "The next?"
The old Lho took her free hand. "Only the humans you know as Engineman and Enginewoman believe, like us, in a Beyond. They know that we should rejoice in the gift of life, and not grieve for its passing, for without this life there would be no hope of attaining the Beyond. Look upon L'Endo - do you see a being in mortal agony? He rejoices, Ella. Truly he rejoices!"
She gazed down at her friend. Through the pain, through the obvious affliction of the plague, she recognised in L'Endo something of the inexpressible rapture he had exhibited when standing on the rock in the centre of the lagoon - giving thanks, as he had said, for life.
L'Endo glowed with an energy at odds with his failing life-force. He spoke, and the old Lho translated.
"Can you return in five of your