Terra (17 page)

Yshn, much encouraged, trotted off to learn his lines. Bsht, who had been listening to all of this, was genuinely very impressed.

-
That was . . . excellently done, Pktk. I think some of the wisdom of the Great Tnk is rubbing off on you.

-
Maybe,
said Pktk happily. He was in an unusually good mood. But then, he remembered, there’d been some leftover FaZoon soup which he’d had for breakfast, and that always seemed to set him up well for the day.

W
hy am I nervous?
thought Terra
. I’m not even going on stage.

Because it’s your play,
she reminded herself.
It’s your play, you wrote it and if it’s bad it’s ultimately your fault. THAT’s why you’re nervous.

Oh yes,
she thought to herself, and then asked herself to be quiet now because she wasn’t helping.

She sat in the front row of the auditorium – she’d thought about sitting backstage with her pals, but now that the play was finally about to start, she wanted to see it as the audience would see it, from the front, not sideways on. Besides, this way she could keep Lbbp company. If she was nervous, Lbbp was frantic, although he was doing a better job of hiding it than usual.

The auditorium was packed. The parents of every child involved in the production were in attendance, so were the pupils from the other classes, their lectors, friends, relatives, interested neighbours, total strangers . . . The atmosphere was one of anticipation and excitement; Terra had a brief and entirely unwelcome flashback to the night of the ill-fated FaZoon visitation. She banished the memory from her mind with a shudder as the lights dimmed.

Fthfth strode out onto the stage.

-
In orbit forty-four of the twenty-seventh era, a young student arrives at the mighty Hrrng Preceptorate.

On came Pktk with his bundle of papers looking magnificently bewildered. He was wearing a very authentic-looking twenty-seventh-era Fnrrn costume which his mother had made for him.

-
He had travelled far, from the small town of Jfd-Jfd in the province of Mntp,
declaimed Fthfth, word-perfectly.
It had taken many days and he was tired from travelling.

Pktk delivered his first line -
There’s got to be an easier way to travel than by rattly old omnicoach . . .

A knowing chuckle from the audience. They got that, then, thought Terra. Good.

As Pktk took a step forward, he tripped over the end of his slightly too long authentic twenty-seventh-era trouser leg, and dropped some of his bundle of papers. He looked fleetingly scared, then said:

-
And once I’ve figured that out, I’m going to find a way of getting rid of these things,
and he bent down to pick up the papers.

A big, warm laugh from the audience greeted Fnrrn theatre’s first ever ad lib. The play was off to a good start.

And so it continued. The audience sat in rapt attention as Pktk re-enacted the fateful day on which Tnk first succeeded in activating grav-matter; Pshkf’s mock-up containment field and pretend crystal projector flashing and crackling with light (the real thing, as he’d shown them in the practical science lab a few cycles previously, was nothing like so spectacular).

They gasped as Spshnf (played by Yshn using what sounded suspiciously like an impression of Compositor Vstj’s voice) confronted Tnk across the council chamber floor (as depicted using Pshkf’s holographic backdrop), challenging his theories and – horrors! – accusing him of plagiarism (which wasn’t entirely historically accurate, but Terra needed to get some proper conflict into the story somewhere).

They sighed as Tnk told his wife Sftl (played by Shnst, or possibly Thnst) of his anxiety about his own discovery – was Fnrrnkind ready for such knowledge?

And finally they thrilled to the finale; with the generals hammering on one door of his study, demanding to be given exclusive access to Tnk’s thesis, while the politicians hammered on the opposite door demanding the same (Terra realised that this wasn’t how it actually happened, not least because it seemed unlikely that Tnk’s study would have doors on both sides, but it was symbolic – another of her new favourite words), Tnk, giving his final speech (-
I didn’t do this for you! I didn’t do this for me! I did this for everybody!
), pressed the key that published his thesis on the Source for all to read – at which point, the text and equations of Tnk’s Thesis appeared in huge characters, scrolling away on the holographic backdrop behind Pktk in a stunning coup de théatre (not that anyone on Fnrr would have known to call it that – they’d have to come up with their own names for this sort of thing in due course).

The audience leapt to their feet, hissing and (this had become quite the thing to do after someone noticed that it’s what Ymns do after a play) slapping their hands together.

The cast beckoned to Terra and she joined them on the stage. Lbbp cheered lustily and the applause (that was what it was called, applause) cranked up a notch.

Fthfth put her arm round Terra’s shoulders from one side and Pktk from the other.

-
Is this where we bend over?
asked Pktk.

-
It’s called BOWING, Pktk, and yes it is,
said Fthfth. So they did.

T
erra and Lbbp sat on the padded bench seat, sipping gssh and sighing with happiness.

-
It was good, wasn’t it? The play?

Lbbp put his arm around Terra’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

-
It was brilliant.

A pause in which nothing was said because there was nothing that needed saying, then:

-
Are you going to write another one?

-
Not yet, but yes, I’m sure I will one day.

-
You could actually be in the next one,
suggested Lbbp.

-
As what?
asked Terra.
I don’t exactly look like anyone else, and I’m not shaving my head and painting myself grey just for a Lyceum play . . .

Lbbp laughed, and said, -
Oh, you could play someone. Or something. I’ve been reading up on more Rrth legends. There are these creatures called angels who turn up in a lot of Rrth myths who look quite a lot like you. In particular, they feature in the plays they put on in their own Lycea, during this annual festival they have called . . .

-
Please, no history lessons now,
mumbled Terra.
It’s too late and it’s been a very busy day.

Lbbp smiled. -
Of course. Time for sleep. Off you go.

Terra got up and shuffled off to her room. She turned in the doorway.

-
Always here,
she smiled.

-
Always here,
returned Lbbp.

Lbbp relaxed back on the seat with his bowl of gssh. This was bliss, he thought. Terra was happier than she’d ever been. She had real friends, and she was proving herself every day in unexpected and wonderful ways. Though he would feel a stab of guilt whenever he remembered the night he’d found her (guilt which he was still keeping entirely to himself), he had no regrets at all. He was as content as he could ever remember being. He wished it could last for ever.

It lasted about another cycle.

T
he day had started much the same as any other day. Wake, breakfast, bubble, Lyceum. The first class of the day had been Linguistics; study of the phonetic structures of Mlmln. Not one of Terra’s favourites; while she spoke Mlmln like a native and without accent, the language was not, nor could it ever be, natural to her speech mechanism. There were certain sounds which she could make perfectly well in passing speech, but if she tried to make the sounds in isolation she would struggle to reproduce them perfectly. It made her feel self-conscious and conspicuously alien, in a way she didn’t often feel these days.

After the interlude, it was time for History of Science. More Terra’s home territory, although there were still gaps in her knowledge.

-
Quiet please,
said Bsht and all hubbub died down.

-
Activate slates and access chapter four section six; refinements on Tnk’s theory from orbit seventy-two of the twenty-seventh era to orbit twelve of the thirtieth era.

Terra stroked her finger across her slate and the appropriate chapter appeared. Was she supposed to have read all this? It didn’t look familiar at all.

-
We begin a new phase in the history of GravTech development today,
began Bsht. Terra breathed a tiny sigh of relief. -
We’re going to be looking at the achievements and contributions of the scientists who developed and refined Tnk’s initial theories. The first of these was Tnk’s student, assistant and, eventually, greatest friend Kltnt. Although by orbit seventy in the twenty-seventh era Tnk had officially retired, he still maintained a keen interest in . . .

A low throbbing noise resounded through the classroom. It seemed to be reverberating through the whole building. It made the floor vibrate and tickle Terra’s feet, and made her stomach queasy. She wondered if it were having the same effect on her classmates’ rather differently arranged insides; looking around, she saw that their faces wore the same perturbed expression as her own.

Bsht had fallen silent the second the sound began. Her face, pale grey at all times, turned paler.

The sound grew louder and more insistent. The children gazed at each other in confusion. Pktk’s lip quivered. None of them knew what this sound meant but all of them instantly understood that whatever was happening, it was nothing good.

Above the noise now was heard the Preceptor’s voice. There was a tension in the voice that Terra had never heard before.

-
All staff and students will assemble in the Leisure Hub immediately. All staff and students to the Leisure Hub immediately please.

Bsht, as if suddenly shaken from a daydream, snapped into alertness.

-
You heard the Preceptor,
she said calmly.
To the Leisure Hub, now
.
No running and no gravity bubbles in the corridors . . .

Terra picked up her slate and followed her classmates into the corridor. All about her staff of all ranks and students of all ages were hurrying towards the Hub, their faces tight with worry.

-
What’s happening?
she whispered to Pktk.

-
Something serious enough for them to cancel gshkth practice,
said Pktk, pointing at a group of older students hurrying along with everyone else, still dressed in gshkth smocks and carrying their gfrgs.
They NEVER cancel gshkth practice.

Terra’s little group of friends rounded the last corridor and entered the Hub. Some sort of meeting was already in progress but no one was speaking; the Hub’s visualiser had been activated and was showing what looked like a news broadcast, but not the local Hrrng broadcast or even the national Mlml broadcast. A Fnrrm newscaster was speaking a language that Terra didn’t understand; the visualiser was translating, Mlmln words heard over the newscaster’s own voice. The picture phased and flickered, the newscaster shouted in panic, dark blue blood streaked across his grey face.

- . . .
off the streets. All citizens are . . . until further notice . . .

There was an explosion behind the newscaster. He flinched but carried on, his voice rising to a scream.

-
They’re here! They’re inside! Hide, wherever you can! Take what you can carry and—

The visualiser went blank. A chill silence descended upon the Hub.

Preceptor Shm, seated on the stage in front of the visualiser, collapsed back into his chair and rubbed his eyes with his long fingers.

After a moment he stood and addressed the assembled crowd.

-
It is a dark day for all of us. A dark day for all Fnrrns.

-
It’s Dskt,
whispered Fthfth.
Dskt has fallen. The G’grk have invaded Dskt.

-
What does that mean?
whispered Terra.

Fthfth looked back at Terra, her eyes full of fear and sadness. But it was Pktk who answered.

-
It means we’re next
.

E
veryone was doing everything they could.

The news of Dskt’s fall had hit the people of Mlml with a shock that was almost physical. For longer than anyone now alive could remember, Mlml – indeed the whole of Fnrr – had existed in a state of serene calm. The G’grk had been fighting among themselves, tribe versus tribe, region versus region; nobody paid this much attention – it was no one else’s problem and it kept the G’grk busy. The G’grk’s expansionist past – when they had galloped across the Central Plains on their armoured gnth-sh’gsts, massacring neighbouring peoples and adding their territories to their ever-growing homeland – had receded into history so thoroughly that the G’grk themselves, as far as the Mlmlns were concerned, had become little more than mythical creatures, monsters from a fearful and forgotten age.

If the G’grk were mentioned at all these days, it was usually in a joke. Tidy yourself up, you look like a G’grk! Look at the state of this wiring! Did a G’grk put it in for you?

No one was cracking G’grk jokes any more. Some even wondered if the jokes had made their way to the Central Plains, if the G’grk had heard themselves mocked and ridiculed. Perhaps that was what had set them back on the warpath. Whatever had provoked them, their attack had stunned the whole planet with its suddenness and ferocity. Dskt, advanced, enlightened Dskt, whose armies had been far greater and better armed those of Mlml . . . Dskt, whose technological superiority had, everyone had believed, guaranteed its security . . . Dskt had been overrun in little more than a day. The G’grk possessed better weapons than anyone had suspected and had attacked in greater numbers than anyone could have anticipated.

In the cycle that had passed since the invasion, little news had been heard from Dskt. Some refugees had made it across the sea to Mlml; many more had perished in the attempt – some shot down by G’grk light-cannons as they fled, others trusting to their gravity bubbles, only to drown when their power cells failed them. Those who arrived safely told tales of mass disappearances, of whole civilian populations vanishing overnight, rumours of slave labour, and much, much worse.