Page 126 of The Surviving Sky
Ahilya climbed the first step, her bamboo boots tapping against the grass as though it really were glass. Before she took more than a couple of steps, the staircaserippled, and the stairs became human-sized, then a gentle ramp. Her climb became faster; she received a distinct sense of the ground beingpleased, but that was bizarre; it wasn’t a livingthing…
Itwasa living thing.
It was grass, no matter how little it resembled the grass she knew.
These plants here were sentient. Perhaps each of them was as sentient as the rudra tree.
She gulped and continued climbing, shafts of light intersecting and undulating around her. She had no sense of distance; the view didn’t change at all, like the plants here were trying not to alarm her. She tried to count how many steps, but the numbers fell away from her mind. Goosepimples covered her neck. She was used to living architecture, but architecture that couldthinkandfeel? Architecture that could anticipate her before she’d fully known her own desire? It seemed benign now, but what if it turned hostile? She clutched the locket tight.
The grass flickered and turned green, resembling Nakshar’s variety. She knew it was for her benefit.
“No,” she whispered again. “You can be you.”
Hysterical laughter built in her head; she was talking tograss, but was this any different from yelling commands to Airav’s pod? Nakshar’s pod held trajecting energy in the battery; that’s what had made her flight possible, butthis—
Perhaps the very ground here held Ecstatic energy. Perhaps Ecstasy ran through the plants here, just like trajection ran through the plants in Nakshar. She had no way of knowing what such concentration of Ecstatic energy could do. Could it imbibe plants withpersonality?
Ahilya reached the top and paused. She turned around and her breath caught in her chest.
She had no idea how high she was, but glittering green dust surrounded her again. She felt like she hadn’t climbed at all. She wished suddenly to see beyond the dust, and something pulled at her eyes, the green dust vanished,and—
The earthrage stared at her, filling her vision.
Ahilya stumbled back, terrified. An unearthly face screamed at her from beyond the habitat. The earthrage surged, filling her mind, bark ripping off trees like flayed skin, hollowed darkness like eyes being torn. She scrambled back unseeingly, tripping over her own feet,the face, the earthrage had aface,and—
The sparkling green dust returned, covering the image of the earthrage, glorious green peaceful dust as far as she could see.
Ahilya stifled a sob. Her heart pounded in her chest.
She turned around again, but her back prickled like she was opening herself to a predator, and she thought,Itisa predator. That is what the earthrages have always been. The ground grew under her heel, nudging her. Warily, Ahilya began to walk forward on a shimmering landing.
A long whileafter—orperhaps toosoon—shebecame aware of another sensation.
Her heart fluttered, then her ears reacted. It sounded like music, rhythmic and melodic, except more profound, somehow meaningful in a familiar way, like a language she had once known but could no longer speak. Iravan’s voice came to her from a lifetime before.By-products of trajection. Interpreted as melodies. Indiscernible to non-architects.
Raga.
For the first time in her life, Ahilya heard a true raga.
Almost as soon as she recognized it, the raga settled in her, like a layer of clothing she no longer could feel, like water she had drunk that hadbecomeher. It receded to the back of her mind; and she could not remember its tune.
She did not know how long she walked.
The view remained unchanged. The raga of the habitat warmed her from within, and green dust glimmered in front, guiding her through her blindness.
Then the green dust vanished again.
She stood in a small copse, thin trees standing tall, grass sprouting under her. Neither the grass nor the trees were any kind she knew, yet a sense of familiarity imbued them. Shafts of blue-green light still surrounded the edges. The copse smelled of eucalyptus and firemint. For a brief second, it reminded her of Nakshar, of the very copse she and Iravan had made love in, the very copse they had fought in. She blinked, and something grew clearer in the center of the clearing. A body on its back, spread-eagled. Iravan.
Ahilya’s heart froze.
Sobbing, she tottered to thebody—toIravan—and dropped to her knees. He lay there, head to one side, eyes closed, his chest unmoving. She touched his cheek, pushed back his tangled hair, her mind going in circles,be alive, be alive, please. Ahilya pressed her lips to his, but she couldn’t feel him breathing. She placed her ear on his chest but couldn’t hear a heartbeat. In desperation, she flung out everything from her satchel, grabbed the healbranch seed, pressed it to his skin, but nothing happened.
“Help,” she sobbed. “Help, please, whatever you are out here.”
Nothing happened.
She scrambled back to Iravan, pinched his nose closed, tried to breathe into his mouth like Oam had told her once. She pumped his heart with the heel of her hand, broke, and breathed into him again. Minutes passed, and Ahilya sobbed, trying to continue, trying to get her husband to breathe.
