The Shipping Forecast

Rockall - Part 11

Little ones, what happened next cannot be described in a way that will make sense to you, for no selfs that were there to witness it were able to tell the full tale. Sure, some beings survived to swim the brine back to what remained of the Nam'bia, and it was they who returned after hundreds of brights and after many faces of J'leef had passed across the heavens that spake fragments and hints, divulged feelings and emotions, gave out riddles and codes. It took many a season to make sense of it all. But those selfs that returned; they were changed ... different. Few could be understood by anyone in the Nam'bia, even though their aspects were familiar or close kin. Their language had changed beyond recognition. Many of the returned didn't stay long with the shoal-pod and went a-wandering on their own, never to be seen again. Only the very youngest remained untouched, and there were very few of those to start with.

But what is reckoned to be true is this; the being on the rock had somehow brought the Bastions of the Eur'opan and the Nam'bia together in one single huge computational net, and in so doing, achieved a feat beyond anything a pod-shoal had ever achieved before; six Bastions together, in harmony with each other, except for one. The brine shimmered between them as octs passed to and fro; a seemingly chaotic mixing of living data going back and forward, working to solve a puzzle that only the one self who didn't belong to either pod-shoal knew.

Poor Wesafricanezsong. He was tortured by what was being asked of him. Despite his distress, he was still an active part of the net and there was much traffic between him and the other Bastions. The stream of information flowing within the net was unlike anything ever seen before. Into this seeming chaos swam Qi'tik.

The noise and confusion for her amongst the song of the Bastions must have been overwhelming. Yet on she swam, right to the centre as if drawn there by instinct; or perhaps she guessed that there must be something more to find amid the streams of octs, many of whom were distressed, but still functioning. The brine was rich with ink and full of darkness, and surely the whole construct must have been on the edge of collapse.

In the centre, Qi'tik found the object which had sung to them of regrets and sorrow; of unimaginable gifts and lost futures. It was singing now, singing the language of Bastions; controlling, coercing, demanding obedience to its will. Qi'tik took it in her jaws and swam on, downwards towards the deep black cold.

*

The song rang out, loud and insistent. Another voice came through beneath the sound; the being on the rock, speaking to her alone; "It is too late, Qi'tik. What's done is done. Everything else is merely ... detail."

She ignored its words and continued to swim with steady deliberation and intent. Though her pain was lessened along with her diminishing consciousness, she was still aware of her surroundings. Beyond the net were many creates, waiting, circling. Behind her, Wesafricanezsong cried out once more; a heart-rending sound of pain and suffering and loneliness, then went silent.

"It is finished now."

The remaining Bastion's song collapsed into confusion. She heard Grehnapnaize and Namericasonn and she was sure, although her understanding of their spake was rudimentary, that they were calling for their silent brother. The Bastions of the Eur'opan, the nameless ones, were similarly affected. Behind her the net broke down into violence.

"It comes. It comes!"

But the words had not been spake by the object in her jaws. She heard his muttering and knew it to be Mil'pek. And she knew that he too was lost to the rock-being's song like everyone else. Mil'pek came into view, a pale shape with his jagged white markings clear despite her damaged vision. He was blocking her way, staying in front to prevent her going any deeper. Qi'tik stopped swimming, a wave of dizziness almost overwhelming her. Now the net was broken, had she done all she could? She dropped the silent object and watched it fall away into the darkness below. "You too, Mil'pek, my brother?"

Mil'pek spake in a feverish, enthusiastic tone that betrayed his severance of loyalty to the Nam'bia. "It comes! Our enlightenment! Rejoice sister!"

"Our Bastions, Mil'pek. They are lost to us. Can't you hear them? Do you not feel their pain?"

But Mil'pek did not respond to her questions. He just kept on telling Qi'tik how everything was changing for the better, while around them the Nam'bia and Eur'opan alike were falling apart. Qi'tik swam on, past her old friend who hardly noticed her going. Mil'pek's muttering and exclamations continued to haunt her descent, then stopped suddenly when the liner following in her wake found him and finally satiated its hunger. Darkness increased, and only a part of it was Sol'tar's light being filtered through a great depth of brine above her.