expunged the last traces of his own guilt for having snubbed them so long in the beginning of their journey. As one, the others 'pathed to him the understanding that all his early stupidities had been forgiven, that proving himself here was not necessary, and he believed them. Still, for his own peace of mind, he wanted to be the one sent down to find the Presence.
This place is not called Deathpit without reason, Melopina reminded him, holding tightly to his hand.
Someone must go down.
Why you?
Why not? He turned to Tedesco. We can make a harness with the rope in your rucksack. You and Chaney should be able to support my weight without any trouble. Lower me slowly enough so I can avoid whatever obstacles there might be.
The rope was fetched and, in short order, the harness was made. Jask climbed into it, sat on the edge of the wall as Tedesco and Chaney got good handholds on the loose rope, which, when the initial slack was taken up, they would lower after him. Melopina kissed him, did not want to let go, finally had to. Jask slid off the edge of the pit and dropped…
He fell two meters, jerked hard as the slack snapped tight. He slammed sideways into the pit wall, hard enough to hurt himself but not with enough force to lose consciousness. He rubbed his aching chest, winced at the pain, which lay like hot metal between his ribs. When his heart had slowed and he could get his breath again, however, he decided that the injury was a small enough price to pay for getting to the Presence. The reward, after all, was great: the stars.
He tugged on the rope and 'pathed, Lower away!
Tedesco and Chaney fed the rope into the well.
At ten meters the pit entrance had dwindled until it was only a tiny coin of bright light overhead.
At fifteen meters it had shrunk to half a coin, a bead.
At twenty it was only a point of light, a pinprick in the darkness.
When he reached twenty-five meters, nearly to the bottom of the shaft, the darkness suddenly exploded in cold, white light.
Jask! — Melopina.
What's down there? — Tedesco.
Jask screamed as the light passed through him like a thousand pins. He jerked in his harness, fell, and before he could draw another breath, he died.
A second later a huge, dark form entered the bottom of Deathpit. It was shapeless and looked more like an incredibly dense cloud of smoke than like living flesh, constantly churning but never dissipating as smoke would be expected to. When it encountered the esper's body, it twisted and writhed more furiously, split into three separate entities, each as shapeless as the motherform. One of these returned to the ship from which the creature had originally come; one remained behind with the crumpled body of the esper; the third soared up the length of the shaft, like a hellish spirit cannoned into the world. It erupted into the late afternoon sun, bobbling in the warm air before the four living espers, who had fallen to the courtyard in shock and terror at the death of Jask.
Good god, what have we unleashed? Chaney asked.
Melopina threw her head back, sought Jask's mental aura, could not find it. She screamed and screamed.
33
The Watcher wakes from his nap, cut deep by a psychic radiation the like of which he has never before encountered on this world.
He rises up, moves forth, seeking the source.
He finds the ebbing life force in the corpse, locates the espers in the courtyard above, and he realizes that his brief nap has been extremely costly.
He moves out to make repairs.
34
At first, when they removed her from her post as General of the Preakness Bay enclave and imprisoned her prior to her execution, Merka Shanly did not so much mourn her own coming death but the end of the programs she had initiated, and which might eventually have saved the Pures from extinction. None of the Preakness Bay people had been exactly enthusiastic about the new order of things; and they were eager to terminate all the programs instigated by a tainted General. Even if some man with insight were to be elected to her post, he would not dare suggest the reactivation of researches and experiments that had originally been proposed by a mutant. She mourned the coming era of shame, from which her people would never pass, and she damned herself for her desires, which had in the end led to her discovery by Kolpei Zenentha.
As the time for her torture and death grew near, however, she began to think less of the people of the enclave and more of herself. She did not want to die. She might be tainted, a child of the Ruiner, with no hope now of eternal salvation, but she wanted to hold onto this world anyway. It was a reaction that surprised her. She soon reasoned, however, that if one were to be damned upon death, no matter what, it was best to live in this world as long as one could. The sooner death came, the sooner came hell.
She knew that Jask Zinn, the last esper found in the enclave, had killed his guards with his mental powers and escaped. She tried to tap similar abilities in herself but could do no more than read the minds of those around her.
On the morning of the Purification Ceremony she was taken from her cell to the main theater on the first level, where she was stripped and clamped to a large slate table whose edges were channeled with blood gutters. To begin with, as the congregation chanted, she was ritualistically slashed with scalpels, decorated with traditional religious signs that made her blood flow freely.
They daubed salt in her wounds.
When she passed out, she was revived.
A waste of supplies, she thought.
Then, when she began to laugh hysterically, tossing her pretty head from side to side, the congregation and the priests were certain that this was a sign of the Ruiner's presence and that he was mocking Lady Nature's people. They chanted louder and ordered the preparation of the Executioner's Pendulum somewhat sooner than they ordinarily might have. As the tenor of Merka Shanly's laugh grew madder and madder, they looked nervously this way and that, wondering if the Ruiner would dare make a direct appearance in this holy hall.
At the penultimate moment, as the Pendulum was moved into place above the table, their worst fears were realized. A mammoth, shapeless black being materialized in the center of the altar, floating in the air. It moved down the front of the church toward the slate table, scattering the priests before. The straps circling Merka Shanly's ankles and wrists snapped loose. At this, those last few brave souls in the audience turned and fled, shouting as hysterically as the girl had done moments before.
Merka Shanly lay still, looking up at the Ruiner, more terrified than those who had been able to flee.
The Presence 'pathed images of reassurance.
“You're the Ruiner?”
It 'pathed a negative concept, then presented a brief, imagistic history of itself and its purpose there. When it found that she was frightened by its magical appearance in the center of the altar, it 'pathed images of its ship and of the teleportation equipment on board, tried to encapsulate the theories of instantaneous travel in nonverbal images and left her more confused than frightened — which was some improvement anyway.
“And what will you do to me now?” she asked.
It 'pathed the images of other worlds, other stars, other races of intelligent beings.
“I don't know if I want—”
