The Ascendant Stars - Michael Cobley [77]
And something else. He rose from the low bench, half-crouching, and felt something fall to the floor. He pushed open the oval door and green-tinged light poured in, revealing seven or eight lengths of pale grey plastic lying at his feet, trailing clusters of hair-fine fibres. Chel smiled with relief – the vudron dreams had helped his body reject the Legion Knight’s implants.
Outside, he found himself standing on a high, midlevel branch, veiled in curtains of leaves and vines. A young male of the Warrior Uvovo handed him a leaf bowl of cold, fragrant water. Grateful, he drained it in a single gulp then went in search of the faint dissonance that he had heard through the interweave of songs.
He found Rory’s vudron on a lower branch round the other side of the immense tree. A female Unburdener, cloaked and hooded, inclined her head as Chel approached. The woody shell of the chest-high vudron was dark and rough, its upper surface bearing patches of moss, while the edges of the doorway were smooth with use.
Gingerly he put out a hand to the vudron, lightly brushing the wood with his fingertips – fire, choking smoke, wheeling stars – and quickly snatched them back. Rory seemed to be in the grip of a powerful and vivid dream of destruction. Reflecting upon his own vudron vision, Chel wondered if Rory was coping with the intensity and the resulting turbulence of thought.
Perhaps I can help him face it all, he thought. Perhaps even help his healing.
He reached out to touch the vudron and again saw …
Fire was burning in a recess in the wall of a narrow corridor. Smoke hung in a hazy layer and a shaven-headed Human male coughed hoarsely as he rushed up to the fire with a small extinguisher and unleashed its contents. All sound, though, was muffled, even the man roaring in agony in a small chamber off to the right, where the floor was spattered with blood. Chel turned away, horrified and confused, and a cloud of smoke and steam engulfed him for a moment.
When it cleared he was standing on the upper section of a medium-sized, split-level room that narrowed towards a wide, curved window beyond which starry night swung and spun. There were several Humans there, among them Gregory Cameron, deep in discussion with another Human male, and down on the lower level was Rory, who seemed uninvolved in what was going on. Faces were smeared with ash and expressions were grim. Then Rory at last spotted Chel and ascended to join him.
‘Chel! – what are you doing in ma dream?’ Rory grinned. ‘Pretty amazing, eh? And they nyaffs back at the mountain think I’ve nae imagination!’ Then his voice lowered as he leaned closer. ‘Listen, did we … were we gonnae do a job for that big Legion cyborg bastard? – I mean, did we escape or did we … ye know, betray the others?’ He swallowed. ‘Are we dead?’
Chel shook his head. ‘We’re not dead, Rory, and we managed not to betray the other Humans, although the mechs still carried out their ambush. We are under the protection of a Uvovo daughter-forest, and it is healing you while you sleep.’
Rory was visibly relieved. ‘God, I was thinking the worst, there. So why am I getting this weird dream? I mean, there’s Greg but I can wave and shout and jump up and down but he disnae bat an eyelid … mind you, they’re all like ghosts, cannae touch anybody … ’
‘That may be the answer,’ Chel said, glancing up at the Human. ‘This may not be a dream – it may be happening right now.’
Rory suddenly looked worried. ‘But that means he’s on a busted ship in the middle of a battle … ’
Without warning a hand grasped Chel’s shoulder and pulled him. It was Scholar Trem, standing next to that thick gleaming root running the length of a stone wall, while the stonework of the root chamber blurred into the structure of the ship’s bridge.
‘You must bring the Eyes to the seedpod