Page 24 of The Enduring Universe
At its center stood the vriksh, but its trunk loomed so wide that itblotted out anything beyond it. When Ahilya craned her neck, she could not see the canopy. She was certain they had been walking under the vriksh for a long time before reaching the city, for it rose hundreds of meters high, the darkness of its shelter absolute.
She could almost hear it speak. If she returned to the broken Etherium, perhaps its heavy breath-like susurration would echo in her ears, mingled with the trapped cries of the Virohi. Its roots rippled out, capturing buildings between them, each tendril taller than her, creating a maze of natural pathways. The city lay nestled within the vriksh’s embrace, licking its wounds.
Her fingers fumbling, Ahilya untied the rope from around her waist. Architects clustered around her, some collapsing wordlessly, others weeping in relief and horror as they noticed the city they’d returned to. Her instinct made her want to comfort them, but what could she say? Ahilya stumbled away from her expeditionary team, climbing down the hill, clambering over thick roots of the vriksh, dirt caking her palms, fibers tearing her clothes. She made for what she hoped was the direction of the council chambers, but all was dark, and the pale indigo of daylight was muted under the vriksh’s deep canopy.
A few lights burned here and there, visible to Ahilya between the thick roots. From the flickering glow, she could tell it was not sungineering but a primitive fire created with pieces of wood and flint. The deeper she went toward the center, the more recognizable the structures became. She walked past one of the schools, and a group of houses that were untouched by the devastation. She came across a residence raised unnaturally in the air, the roots of the vriksh spearing it, like fingers holding up a smashed toy. All was silent and dark within. Ahilya shuddered and kept moving, her only thought to find her sister and nephews. Footsteps thudded behind her, and she noticed that the others were following her. Chaiyya’s face waslistless, but Eskayra looked mutinous, directing her expeditionary team to the infirmary when they came upon it.
By the time they reached the center of the plaza, only the three women remained. Ahilya paused, her eyes widening. Encrusted by deep boulders riven from the earth, the council chamber stood within the plaza, wrapped in a tangle of brown roots. Light shone through the windows fitfully, and the chamber was broken everywhere, foliage bursting through gaping holes. Still, miraculously it stood, and there was no mistaking the arched roof, which had somehow retained its shape. Followed by Eskayra and Chaiyya, Ahilya stumbled past debris and fallen walls into the chamber.
Inside it was no better. The chamber had been a long hall when they’d left, with offices for different councilors housed within it, but except for the round center table, little remained. Ash and dust lay thick in the air, and sounds of voices filtered toward Ahilya past her coughs.
She trudged further into the light. Shadows resolved into the shapes of councilors, in the middle of a conference, though the hour was early. Basav looked like he had been weeping. Airav’s wheelchair seemed broken, then hastily fixed. Garima and Weira were speaking in low, tense voices, and Kiana sat with a few sungineers Ahilya didn’t know.
Several chairs were unoccupied, the other councilors presumably roving through the city to see to the citizens. Ahilya heard snatches of conversation, “…healing…” “…injuries…” “…must speak with him…”
Their mutters stopped as she approached. Silently, Ahilya righted an upturned chair and sat around the lopsided remains of the round council table. Chaiyya stumbled over to Airav, who took her hand in his. She pulled up a chair too, then leaned her head on his shoulder, tears leaking from her eyes. Someone asked Ahilya aquestion but she did not hear. She could only stare at where the roof that had caved in like a cascading wave.
A hand emerged from the rubble and her bile rose. She forced herself to remember it was just the cosmic creatures’ attempt at escape. That hand did not belong to a citizen, trapped in the architecture. She had stopped the destruction. She had saved humanityandthe cosmic creatures. Right?
She could not fool herself. The damage to the ashram was as bad as in an earthrage. If her war with Iravan had levelled the jungle and created whole hills, it was a miracle Irshar had survived. Yet how many had died? Was Tariya all right? Were Arth and Kush? She wanted to ask about her sister, and about the rest of Irshar, but she was so tired. With a trembling hand, she reached for the bowl of nuts that was usually kept on the table, but of course, this time there was nothing here. Her stomach growled, her mind blurring.
“Ahilya-ve?” Airav said.
She blinked.
They were all looking at her. Someone had spoken.
“We asked what happened,” Airav said, not unkindly.
Ahilya tried to clear her head. “My sister,” she rasped. “My family.”
“They are all right, Ahilya-ve,” Airav said. “By some miracle, they were unhurt though their neighbors were not so lucky.”
There was no accusation on his face, but the words hit Ahilya like a slap regardless. She knew it was not a miracle that Tariya and the boys had survived. The vriksh was encoded to Ahilya. It must have kept her sister safe because of Ahilya’s desire for her family’s safety. A part of her hadknownTariya was all right, before Airav had confirmed it. This was exactly why so many of Nakshar’s citizens had survived—because of her buried intention.
But other citizens from other airborne ashrams… Ahilya’s mindconjured an image of a thousand airborne ashrams that had once existed. Inkrist, Carran, Erast—these had been cities that had once floated in different bands to Nakshar and her sister ashrams. But Iravan and Ahilya’s consideration had extended only to the Conclave, and in the end only the Conclave had survived. Now, of the Conclave… perhaps only citizens of Nakshar had survived, because in the end, that is where Ahilya’s memories lay. The bodies were undoubtedly cleared away in the days since the battle, but death had overtaken the rest of them once more. Ahilya had thought herself capable of extending compassion and care even to the Virohi who were so alien, but she had failed them all. She felt smothered by her shame. She could not hold Airav’s gaze.What have I done?She thought.What have I become?
Airav leaned forward. “Ahilya-ve, will you tell us what happened in the jungle?”
Ahilya tried. Slowly, her voice hoarse, she explained what she had experienced with the cosmic creatures, the visions they had shown her, how she had failed in her desire and then fought with Iravan in a cosmic tug of war.
“The Moment—” she said.
The architects in the room flinched, but her eyes were for Basav, the seniormost of them all.
“I can still see it,” he said, and his skin flickered blue-green. “It is shattered. I can float in it, but all the stars are broken, and several of them are g-gone.” He paused, his mouth trembling. “I-it is as though glass has fractured, and I remain with the splinters. The only possibilities that are intact belong to the Garden, but it is only a matter of time before those crumble too.” His eyes filled with tears, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Trajection is over. This is what one Ecstatic’s capital desire has wrought. Him and you—you stupid, selfish girl.”
Ahilya recoiled, and despite her grief Chaiyya flinched too, casting a disturbed look at Basav. By common understanding everyone had been polite to Ahilya—they’d had to be, she held their fates in the palm of her hand—but with the Moment gone, Basav’s last reserve had broken.
She wanted to defend herself. But how could she? A voice, her own, whispered in her head,You wanted this.When she had been a naïve, lonely archeologist, she had looked for a different way of survival. She had thought that survival without trajection would allow for everyone to be equal. Now her desires had come true, yet humanity still only existed at the brink of survival.
“Perhaps it can be repaired,” she said helplessly. “If it isn’t completely gone—if you can still see it and feel it.”
“Not by us,” Basav replied, wiping his eyes. He took a deep breath, then another, clearly fighting for control, and it was clear from the nods of the others that they’d already spoken of this. “Only an immensely powerful Ecstatic Architect, could do it. One who was united with their yaksha counterpart. And it would have to be their deepest capital desire, one they could pour their whole will into.”
“So, Iravan then,” she said.
Who else was there? Irshar had only one Ecstatic Architect—Chaiyya. All the others had sworn to Iravan. And Chaiyya had not found her yaksha yet. As far as Ahilya knew, no one else except Iravan had managed that.
