Читать книгу Rise to the Rahz - Erik van Mechelen - Страница 1

It is possible Dimah had some presentiment of his rise. How else would he have known to experiment, to test his theories? Maybe that is why he grinned now as he gripped the limestone railing and surveyed Growing Room One. Under crimson earthlights wedged in larger stones, workers moved about between the plants creeping out of the room’s crevices. The glow lit Dimah’s grey cloak and wry smile. To watch the workers he’d trained filled his heart with anticipation. He had done well in his first season.

From the hallway that led to this overlook came a shuffling, and with it a vaguely hooded figure, arms folded beneath inarticulate black robes which shifted as though streams of air roiled within. The closer Dimah looked, the more the shape seemed only a shadow. Disoriented, Dimah wanted to look away, but for now he couldn’t.

The director had only seen one Rahz before, from a distance. It was ten cycles ago; as a youth, from the chasm bridge, he had watched the robing of a new Rahz high on the Great Spire. I’m fortunate to have seen it. Many descended without witnessing such an event. The Rahz lived long.

Growing uncomfortable, the director used a bow as an excuse to divert his eyes.

He tried to hide his grimace when he came up. The shadowy shape seemed to nod. The red luminescence suggested facial features like his own, but only subtly. Dimah was thrown for a beat into a memory: blasphemously, one of the older directors claimed the Rahz were merely human. But becoming a Rahz transformed you. This was one of many things Dimah had learned once being woken up from the workers' sleep.

Dimah returned to the present. “Perhaps you’d like to hear how things are going?” He gestured to the cave of flora and stone.

When the Rahz spoke it made Dimah shiver. “Is the crop on schedule?” His voice was like the rustle of air through a narrow tunnel.

“We are ahead of schedule.”

“And the workers?”

“They have taken to my training. They still complete their work well before the first toll.” The director stole a glance at the Rahz’s face, but the hood still aimed outward to where workers whispered words to the small light-giving stones; cleaned critters from the vines, stalks, and bulbs; and brought clay pots of water to let the plants drink.

“Your crop is proceeding faster than Director Leber’s,” said the raspy voice. “The Rahz Circle will receive a positive report from me.”

Relief overtook Dimah but he remained upright. In hopes of revitalizing the crop midseason, he had taken a chance.

As if reading his thoughts, the Rahz added, “Experimentation can be dangerous. When you set your thoughts on the unknown, it can swallow you whole.”

The director noted the Rahz’s reference to the Abyss, the blackness stretching into nothing below the chasm bridge. It was where the descended went on their journey to the Source.

“And yet,” said the Rahz, “I am familiar with experimentation—deliberate exploration is what we Rahz commit our lives to doing…in search of the Source.”

What Dimah said next was a learned response. “That’s why we are here.”

“There is one other thing I’d like you to watch for,” said the Rahz.

“Anything at all.”

“There are some workers who may exhibit strange behavior—perhaps you have noticed it already?”

A trap? Better speak truthfully. “Not yet.”

“The Rahz Circle has often looked Back seeking the Source. But there is talk about looking Forward now.”

“The workers are key to this…experiment?”

“You will do well,” said a voice inside his head. It had a trace of the Rahz’s rasp, but it was clear, strong, younger, healthier.