Communion

This is a short story I wrote a while back. It was always my intention to post stuff like this on my blog, but I never got around to it before now.

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Kaliss paused at the head of the ancient steps to turn and look back the way she had come.

The world was a vast wide expanse of brilliant blue sky far above the fading yellows of the steppe. The wind pushed so strongly that her hair streamed out behind her, bringing tears to her eyes and a faint smile of pleasure to her lips.

This was her third time. Twice before she had stood at the top of the hill and faced the distant horizon with her people gathered in the great camp below, preparing for the annual ritual of Communion.

This year, there was a difference however. Two suitors had survived the trials and presented themselves for her consideration. Her smile faded. Caramin had failed.

Overhead a deep red banner snapped in the wind and the sound brought her back to the steppe.

It was so vast she thought. Almost without end. Here at the Temple at Yaum one could not see the mountains in the north or the west. The world was reduced to the monotonous grassland and the Hill of the Citadel.

“Mother?”

Kaliss turned to regard the High Sister of the Temple. It was an accepted aspect of their world that the High Sister with her five decades of service to the Great Sky Mother should refer to Kaliss, barely in her second decade of life, as Mother.

As she turned, Kaliss’s eyes caught sight of the Citadel.

“Yes High Sister. I am ready” she replied as she averted her gaze from the tumble of ruins that sat at the summit of the hill.

The High Sister bowed from the waist and with a sweeping motion gestured for Kaliss to enter the temple.

The ceremony of preparation was the lengthiest part of the entire ritual. Kaliss was bathed and washed by two mute Sisters, then dried and groomed, then caressed and touched until her body was relaxed, decorated with the traditional face paints and clad in the unusual black and copper garments that were so alien to her concept of clothing.

Sitting on an ornately carved stool for the lacing, she watched the two suitors in the temple. The High Sister moving closer with the glossy black helmet paused to contemplate her and smiled tenderly.

“You are so beautiful Mother”

“Am I?”

“Truly”

Kaliss glanced up at one of her silent attendants. The girl smiled shyly and nodded.

“If I am so beautiful, then why has the Mother sent me such men as these?”

All four women turned to regard the two men in the temple.

Trannis was the younger and taller of the two. He was the son of one of the eastern chieftains and a handsome man. All four of the women felt the same admiration as they regarded him He stood straight and tall and awaited the Mothers decision with a slightly pale face.

Beside him stood a much older, and far heavier man called Arron. Unlike Trannis, Arron was a warrior by caste, not a noble, but battle honours won in the constant wars in the north had given him the right to enter the trials and as an ambitious man he had taken up the honour and competed well. He was found to be strong, intelligent and fertile.

Kaliss turned her head away from them.

“Neither is accepted” she said in a flat voice.

“As you say Mother” the High Sister replied.

Kaliss felt the disappointment pass through the other women and it was as the wind had been on her face earlier. Guilt stabbed her and she felt moved to explain herself though no explanation was required.

“He is not mine” She said.

The High Sister met her eyes but said nothing. It was obvious that she spoke of Trannis. Arron was too old and too eager. His ambition radiated from him like the stench of sweat.

Trannis was perfect but his heart already belonged to a girl called Fernia and only his faith in the Great Sky Mother had put him in the temple for her consideration. Kaliss knew that once he had been released from his religious obligation he would marry Fernia and she would still be alone and Caramin would stay away from her.

Men, and their stupid pride.

She bowed her head and stared at the dark granite floor, waiting until Trannis and Arron had been sent on their way, the one joyous and the other disappointed.

She contemplated the flame of the incense burner.

Overhead the long bronze bell of the temple began its dull ringing and Kaliss stood up. One of the Sisters passed her the helmet and she walked out into the temple.

Around the periphery the Sisterhood had gathered and beyond them stood the Matriarchs of the various tribes. The Men stood outside and watched respectfully.

The High Sister began the Calling and as Kaliss took up her place at the Podium, each of the Matriarchs called out their tribal name and accepted the welcome of the gathered sisterhood. As this took place, Kaliss watched the men with heavy eyelids.

They stood in armed ranks. Each tribe was allowed to send no more than ten men to Communion but since there were over two hundred tribes this meant that every year some two thousand armed men, many of whom were sworn enemies, would stand in silence and offer their respect to the Great Sky Mother. This year there were more scarred faces amongst the men. The wars in the north had spilled over into the other tribes and many had sent diplomatic representatives to the gathering in an attempt to stem the bloodshed. It was hoped that the wars could be ended if the Great Sky Mother were to send a sign through the heavens as she had done earlier in the year. On that occasion the night had been illuminated by a vast white glow that travelled across the sky and in the weeks following many tribes in the north had suffered strange illnesses and inexplicable deaths. Some tribes had interpreted this as an omen and had attacked their afflicted neighbours accordingly.

That was the way it had always been. The tribes were governed by their ability to make war and war was dictated by the needs of the tribe and the omens cast by the Mother.

No one questioned their faith because they had all felt the guiding hand of the Mother and heard her voice from the throats of the Sisters. They knew that the Mother shaped their lives with good reason. They understood the balance of life and death and they honoured it with their own blood. In awe they looked upon Kaliss and saw not a twenty two year old woman, but the living embodiment of the Great Sky Mother.

The High Sister of the Temple had reached the end of the Calling and now she turned to face the podium where Kaliss stood in the strange metallic black clothing of Communion with the dark gem of the helmet in her hands.

“It is the will of the Mother that no consort be chosen this year.”

Kaliss met the High Sisters eyes and ignored the rustle of disappointment that passed though the temple. She nodded, mostly to herself, then picked up the helmet and placed it firmly on her head.

As before, the world changed. The sky darkened, but around her the colours of the banners and clothing sharpened ever so slightly. Her hearing was muffled for a heartbeat then it was as if she wore nothing and her head was free of all constraint.

“It is time for Communion” she said and her voice was louder than she had intended. It called out and echoed about the pillars like the voice of a goddess.

From the Temple, the path of broken granite ran in a straight line to the Citadel. A crumbling and almost fallen structure, this architectural oddity was so old that there were no records or memories of a time when it had been built. Kaliss was not even sure what the word Citadel even meant, though she knew it had some obscure military meaning. She followed the path as she had done the year before, and the year before that and examined the smooth flowing contours of the building. Erosion had softened many of the sharper features, but the Citadel had always had a smooth elongated shape that was more than slightly suggestive of a phallus. Amongst the people, she knew, there were many rumours as to what exactly the Daughters got up to when they entered its unknown depths, but so far she had found the experience to be a disappointment.

She ignored the bleached bones of an intruder as she gradually drew near enough to see the open archway that was the only known entrance. Across it was a fading inscription that no one could read any more. She paused as she had done the two previous years and peered into the darkness gathering her courage. She knew she had nothing to fear. She knew that as the Daughter she was allowed to approach and enter the Citadel for Communion. That it had not struck her down already was proof enough of this.

Within was the long domed corridor that ended in the second open door way. Like the outer entrance, there was no longer any doors, the wood having apparently rotted away years ago. On either side were the interlocking patterns of the stone murals that resembled the old symbols of the various tribal banners. She slowed down to examine them as she had done before and again they brought a reassurance to her. Of all the ingredients to the ritual of Communion, only these murals seemed to have any connection with the rest of her life. Everything else was alien to her. The garments she wore and the magical helmet, the Citadel, even the look of reverence in the eyes of the war hungry men, they all seemed to belong to some other life, to some other person’s perception. For Kaliss as she passed from the tunnel into the great open chamber of the Citadel, the experience of Communion was one of utter mystery and unknown significances.

“Identify,” said the Great Sky Mother.

“I am Kaliss, your Daughter”

The central chamber was a huge, circular cavity that rose up into the dim heights of the tower to the dome above. Her predecessor had called it the Mothers womb. The floor was a vast metal grating that revealed a second equally large chamber below, and in the centre of this, suspended by the floor, was the grey stone slab known as the Monolith. Her predecessor had tried to explain what the purpose of this dark stone was but it had been obvious even then that she had no real idea what the stone was or how it managed to speak. Like Kaliss her perception had been one of religious wonder and awe.

“Approach” the deep toned female voice said.

Kaliss walked slowly out onto the grating, which creaked as it gave, ever so slightly, under her weight. From the darkness far below she could hear water dripping as the echoes rose up about her.

She laid her hands on the Monolith and it felt as cold and dead as any other large piece of stone.

“Identity confirmed.”

“Thank You Mother” Kaliss replied then cleared her throat to ask the all-important question that the Council of the Sisterhood had prepared for this years Communion. Before she could speak however the voice of the Mother interrupted her.

“You have one communication pending Kaliss”

Kaliss paused, her mouth still open. This was something new. No one had ever mentioned anything about a communication.

“Pardon?”

“You have one communication pending Kaliss”

She looked about nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“There is one communication awaiting you”

“Awaiting me? Where?”

“You can receive it here if you wish or in the chamber of the Sentinel”

Kaliss felt her palms starting to feel damp. Her breathing had become shallow and she felt dizzy. She cast about in her memory for some clue as to what the correct response was but she could recall nothing in her training that prepared her for these responses. She began to realise that the Mother had chosen her for something new. Something that no Daughter in memory had experienced.

“The Sentinel?”

A door she had never seen before slid open off to her left and she turned to gape at the orange light that filtered through it. Like the womb chamber, the doorway was an oblong shape unlike anything she had ever seen anywhere else.

“Is that where the Sentinel is?”

“Yes”

“Mother?”

“Yes?”

She paused. She did not know whether this new development in the interest of the mother gave her the right to ask her own questions and there was nothing in the disembodied voice to indicate how she should tackle this novelty.

“What is the Sentinel?”

“An element stationed to keep guard.”

She took a few steps closer to the open doorway; within she could see steps leading upwards.

“What is an element?” she asked.

“A contributing component part of the Arsenal.”

“I see… and what does it do?”

“The Sentinel keeps guard of the Arsenal.”

Beyond the door was a staircase of metal steps that rose up, curving around the outer wall of the great central chamber to disappear around the bend. Small globes of orange light hung from the ceiling and lit the way. Kaliss took one look back at the Monolith then shrugged and made her way up the stairs.

To her surprise, the Sentinel appeared to be a person. At first she had thought it was a sculpture, but as she entered the circular chamber that apparently rested at the summit of the great chamber she saw one of its arms move.

Sitting on what appeared to be a worn granite throne inlaid with copper filaments was the figure of a huge muscular man in an armoured suit of some sort. Kaliss stood in the entrance to the Sentinels chamber and regarded this apparition warily.

Its armour appeared to be some sort of metallic stone that resembled nothing as much as the rough skin of a rock lizard though it was clearly inlaid with more copper filigree. Corrosion had left its mark however and the whole figure gave the impression of immense age. The eyes of the helmet regarding her were obsidian black.

“Are you… the Sentinel?”

The great head nodded once.

“I am the Daughter. Do you have a communication for me?”

Again the figure nodded but then it turned its massive upper torso and pointed to a small alcove encased in what appeared to be glass inlaid with intricate lines of interlocking copper mesh. The alcove appeared to be empty and Kaliss looked from it back to the Sentinel. With a greater emphasis it repeated its gesture and she realised it expected her to enter the alcove.

As she complied, it returned to its former position on its throne. She waited but nothing further happened.

“Hello?” she called out to it.

The alcove suddenly hummed and a greenish light came on around her. Even through her Communion suit she could feel the heat the glass suddenly radiated but before she comment on this she found herself in another place entirely.

She was standing in a pristine white room with circular walls and no apparent source of light. Opposite her stood another figure dressed almost identically to herself, though without a helmet and male.

“Hello” he said.

Kaliss was about to reply when he continued.

“My name is Mottka. I’m the pilot of your transport. I’m afraid I have some bad news, though I suspect you already know what I’m going to tell you.”

“What do you mean?”

Mottka did not seem to hear her

“The war is over of course,” he snorted. “But you probably already know that. I only just found out when we came back into low space. Obviously we over shot the mark… by my estimate you must be ten or twelve generations further along. You must be fine soldiers by now!”

He paused and his face took on a look of discomfort.

“I don’t understand” Kaliss pulled off her helmet but Mottka did not meet her eyes.

“But there’s more… I… The war is over, and we lost. Our planet and our people are all gone now. Destroyed by the Free Men.”

“What planet?”

“I shall rendezvous with you sometime in the next million seconds. I’ll probably come down in a shuttle and meet with you at your designated Citadel tower but I have yet to locate its transponder signal.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. Kaliss noted how young he appeared and how beautiful his features were. She had never seen a man as beautiful as Mottka. As he began to speak again, repeating what he had just said as he smiled at her shoulder she began to realise that he could not see her, that what she was seeing was a like a memory. An event that had already taken place. This was the nature of the communication; it was a message, like a dream and she was remembering it as such.

She opened her eyes and as she expected she was still standing in the warm green light of the alcove.

“Was that the communication?” she asked the Sentinel as she climbed back into its chamber. The Sentinel ignored her but the door to the stairs opened. With a last glance at the oddly beautiful communications chamber she pulled her helmet back onto her head then turned and made her way back down into the chamber of the Monolith.

“Mother?” she asked as she crossed the floor to the stone. It remained silent until she pressed her hands against it, then its voice echoed about the chamber.

“Identity confirmed.”

“Mother?”

“Yes Daughter”

“Who is Mottka?”

“Pilot. First class. Transport ship Nereius”

“When did the communication arrive?”

“The last communication was received twelve million, four hundred and ten thousand and fifty seven seconds ago.”

“How many days its that?”

“Approximately one hundred and forty eight point nine.”