A Triumph of Souls (12 page)

The largest among them, a great hairy creature who was as much beast as man, had required the largest chains on the islands
to restrain him. His oversized cot rocked and bounced with his struggles, but strive as he might, he was unable to free himself.
The Tiloeans took no chances, and had overbound the shaggy mountain just to be sure. In his frantic, undisciplined exertions
he was nearly matched by several of his much smaller shipmates. None succeeded in breaking free, though a number continued
to exert themselves well into the later part of the day.

With nightfall came a certain calm as the newly defaced company realized the hopelessness of continuing to struggle. The watch
within the outer repository was changed and new islanders (if not new faces) arrived to replace the first attendants. These
murmured soothingly to the bound guests, striving to assuage their understandable distress. After all, one does not lose one’s
face every day. But they would all be the better for it; they would see. Or rather, perceive, seeing in the old sense being
one more unnecessary aptitude that had been painlessly excised from their personages.

No lights were lit in the chamber. None were needed, since those within perceived rather than saw, and for perceiving, light
was not necessary.

The Tiloeans were much taken with their new residents. Nearly every one was of sound, hearty physical stock. They would constitute
a wonderful addition to the general population. Already, eligible young men and women from all the islands were choosing favorites
in hopes of striking an acceptable match. There were many to pick from, since every member of the ship’s crew had been brought
onto Greater Tilo from the fine ship now bobbing unattended at anchor in the little harbor.

But in taking her crew, the islanders had overlooked one who was not.

Something that was not even faintly human stirred in the bowels of the otherwise abandoned vessel. It had retired there in
search of some peace and quiet during the raucous festivities of the night before. Perceived as entirely inhuman by the Tiloeans
who had scoured the ship from stem to stern in search of slumbering crew, it had been relegated to the category of livestock
or ship’s pet and subsequently ignored.

Now it stretched, yawned, and slowly made its way upward until it was standing on the main deck. Confusion confounded it.
A whole day had obviously passed, yet the detritus of the wanton celebration supplied by the faceless islanders still lay
scattered everywhere about the ship. The big cat’s heavy brows drew together. This was most unlike the human Captain, who
experience had shown not merely favored but demanded a taut, spotless vessel.

Wandering through the quarters of officers, crew, and passengers, the black litah’s unease increased as every successive
cabin turned out to be as empty as the one before. Padding to the railing, it observed numerous lights onshore, indicating
that while life had abandoned the ship, it was present in plenty on the nearby island. Clearly, something was seriously amiss.
Not that the cat particularly cared about the individual fates of an assortment of ill-smelling, ill-bred humans, but it was
painfully conscious of a still unpaid debt to one of them. Also, despite its exceptional physical abilities, it could not
sail the ship by itself. For lack of an opposable thumb, it thought, many things were lost.

It was the possessor, however, of certain compensations, not the least of which was exceptional physical strength and senses
that would put those of the most sensitive human to shame. Putting both massive forepaws on the railing, it pushed off the
deck and plunged over the side, landing with a surprisingly modest splash in the calm black water. Powerful legs churning
beneath its sleek body, it paddled steadily toward shore.

Arriving safely on a deserted beach south of the main cluster of lights, it shook itself several times. Ignoring an inherent
impulse to pause and dry itself further, it contented itself with fluffing out its magnificent black mane before heading north.
Trotting along the beach with eyes and ears alert and nose held close to the ground, it inhaled an excess of odors both familiar
and exotic. No stranger by now to salt water, it was able to discard quickly hundreds of natural scents as immaterial to its
search. When it encountered human spoor it slowed slightly, continuing onward only when it identified the odor as unfamiliar.

When at last it intersected a shallow beach that reeked not only of one but of a number of familiar body odors, it
knew it had come to the place where its friends had been brought ashore. There was neither smell nor sight of a struggle,
which the cat found most peculiar. Knowing that the human Captain would not have left her ship wholly untended and therefore
suspecting foul play, the litah had expected to find evidence of a fight. In the absence of such evidence, it grew, if possible,
more wary than ever.

Voices approached and the litah hunkered down behind one of the small boats that had been drawn up onshore. Two figures passed,
faceless like those who had come aboard the ship to participate in the human festivities. The litah could have killed them
silently and easily, with a single bite to the neck of each. But ignorance made it cautious. Not knowing what it was up against,
the big cat held off doing anything that might alert the locals to its presence on their island.

Instead, it waited motionless for the two blank-visaged humans to pass. Dark as the night, it was virtually invisible in the
absence of a bright moon, and the strollers did not even look in its direction. When their silhouettes and voices had faded
into the distance, the litah left the beach and moved inland.

So recent and strong were the multiple smells of his friends and the crew that he was able to diverge from the actual path
whenever it seemed he might pass into the open. Always picking up the scent trail after such momentary digressions, the litah
soon found itself concealed within a patch of brush, eyeing the entrance to a single impressive stone structure. A quick circumnavigation
of the edifice turned up no traces of his companions. Therefore it was reasonable to assume that they had been taken inside,
where the spoor vanished.

Two islanders stood guard at the entrance. At the moment they were chatting with one another, relaxing beneath cloudy but
otherwise clement skies. As guards their presence was more ceremonial than necessary. More than anything, they were there
to attend to the needs of those fettered within should any of them become hysterical beyond the bounds of expectation or tradition.

This pair the litah slew. Not because it was unavoidable or because it felt a sudden surge of bloodlust, but because it was
the quickest way to ensure their silence for as long as should be necessary. Padding through the unbarred doorway, it entered
a corridor awash in darkness. Any human wandering about in such circumstances would have quickly stumbled into walls or tripped
and fallen to the floor. The litah’s eyesight, however, was infinitely sharper than that of any man.

Those same feline senses enabled it to locate its companions quickly. Faceless they might be, but nothing could disguise their
individual odors, especially after a day and a night of struggling frantically against their bonds. Delicately employing bloodied
teeth and claw and always keeping an ear alert for the sounds of approaching islanders, the litah freed them one at a time
from their restraints.

Freedom brought only minimal joy to men and women who had lost their faces. It was one tall, easily recognizable individual
who, exhibiting profounder perception than any of the others, caught hold of the litah’s mane and led it not outside but deeper
into the structure.

Turning a final corner, they confronted an elderly wise man with an impressive white beard that covered most of his otherwise
vacant face. Sensing their presence, he rose
from the cross-legged position in which he had been resting to brandish the ceremonial spear he held. Before he could throw
it or utter a warning, he fell beneath the litah’s huge paw, his neck broken and his upper spine shattered.

Behind him was a heavy wooden door. From the other side of that door arose a constant, relentless hum. It was the kind of
noise a hundred subdued beehives might generate. Striding forward, the tall faceless human began to pound on the door. It
was braced with double bolts and the bolts themselves secured with large padlocks.

Backing up as far as it could in a straight line, the black litah let out a reverberant roar that shook dust from the walls
of the enclosed space and exploded forward. Beneath its onrushing mass, bolts, locks, and door went down together.

Beyond lay a single expansive, domed chamber. Buzzing like a million wasps, hundreds of eyes, ears, noses, and mouths rushed
the sudden gap. The intruders, human and cat alike, ducked away from that torrent of fleeing lineaments.

Separating themselves from the choleric mass, six specific features slowed before the tall man. Pausing to ponder the vacant
countenance-as-canvas to make certain it was the appropriate blank, they slowly drifted forward to reattach themselves to
the smooth skin. The eyes went first, signaling to their fellow facial traits the correctness of the decision. Mouth followed,
and then nostrils and ears, until the face of the tall man had been fully restored.

In the outer chamber other bits and pieces of individual countenance were searching out and relocating themselves on the faces
from which they had been detached. It seemed impossible that every feature should find its
proper owner, and there was some contentious bumping and fussing when, for example, two noses tried to fit on the same face
or two ears to occupy the same side of a head. But eventually everything straightened itself out, much as individual seal
pups somehow manage to find their mothers amidst tens of thousands of identical-appearing females.

Faces reinstated, the members of the ship’s crew vowed to die fighting rather than surrender them again to the pernicious
machinations of the islanders. The faceless bodies of the two guards lying athwart the entrance were favorably remarked upon
by the escaping sailors. Arming themselves with branches of wood or pieces of stone, they made their way down toward the waterfront
where the fishing boats were beached.

As it developed, there was no need to take up arms. The islanders were far too busy trying to fight off their liberated facial
traits. Virtually attacking their former owners, the organs that had matured in isolation now instinctively sought to reattach
themselves to visages that had never known them.

Tiloeans were seen fleeing their homes in the middle of the evening, swatting and flailing at aggressive noses and ears, their
arms swinging wildly to keep persistent eyes from taking up residence in the location of former sockets. Never having known
the senses that had been banished since birth, they had no idea how to cope with them. Those islanders whose ears found the
right heads were stunned by the loudness a couple of convoluted slabs of flesh could convey. Others kept newly restored eyes
shut tight lest they be mentally blinded by the shock of sharply outlined images delivered direct to the brain. Noses
brought not satisfaction but nausea, and mouths a mindless, disconsolate wailing that began to spread all across the island—and
to other islands, as freed features flocked to owners living there.

With the aid of nets and clubs, the aroused populace tediously began to bring the situation under control. Eyes and ears were
rounded up and bagged for return to the domed chamber. Stunned noses fluttered and hopped on the ground, to be recovered and
placed in bags by busy, faceless children. A carnival of the grotesque was on view as Tiloeans with one eye and a mouth, or
two ears and nothing else, struggled to clean up the mess engendered by the mass release of features.

Nor were the impatient, agitated organs always precise in their deployment. Stumbling along the paths and past the village,
the departing crew saw men and women with ears where their eyes ought to have been, noses taking the places reserved for mouths,
and individual eyes occupying the high points of faces where nostrils ought to reside. All of which contributed to the general
chaos and allowed the sailors to escape unchallenged.

Commandeering several fishing boats, they rowed their way back to the waiting
Grömsketter
. Ignoring the danger inherent in attempting to pass through close-set islands at night, the Captain ordered all sail put
on. Not one of the grateful crew challenged her decision. Had she so ordered it, they would have jumped into the water in
a body and pushed and kicked the heavy craft with their own hands, so frantic were they to flee that gentle, kindhearted,
accursed land.

It was only when they were safely clear of the Tilo Isles and their bizarre inhabitants that the mariners took the
time to note that not everything had been put back the way it had formerly been. There was some question as to which eye belonged
to whom, and what lips ought rightly to reside above certain chins. This posttraumatic confusion was understandable and was
soon sorted out. Personal disappointments aside, it was understood that everyone had recovered his or her rightful features,
and that if anyone held any second thoughts on the matter, they were best kept to oneself, since nothing could be done in
any event to further alter the current state of affairs.

What lingering discontent existed was quickly swallowed in the wave of euphoria that followed the last peak of the Tilos falling
behind the horizon astern. Everyone realized they should be grateful for having had the proper complement of features returned
to them. After all, everyone knows it is better to have the wrong nose than no nose at all.

There was one attempt made to honor and praise the black litah for effecting their freedom and the restoration of their countenances,
but the big cat forcefully demurred. Such frivolities were time-wasting activities fit for humans, it avowed curtly, and not
for nobler species like himself. Besides, it went on to explain, it was by nature already lionized, and had no need of gyrating,
genuflecting humans to remind it of that fact.