They crested the hill, and there was the Radiant city ahead of them.
It was like nothing Malone had ever seen before. It didn’t seem to have any enclosed spaces. No rooms or buildings. Instead it seemed to consist of a tangled mass of cobwebs within which the Radiants swam like fish in a coral reef. The whole thing had a faintly luminous glow, like the Radiants themselves, although not as bright, and it hung in the air, hundreds of feet above the ground, some of the outermost parts moving slightly in the breeze. It was tethered in place by thick strands of the same material that were anchored to large white blocks half sunk in the ground.
It was huge. Miles across at least, and parts of it towered high into the sky like thunderheads of stormy clouds. If it had been a human city there would have been smaller communities all about, towns and villages and the like, but Malone and the Brigadier had seen nothing before this. It seemed that all the Radiants in this part of the world lived in this one place.
Several Radiants hovered above them, seemingly curious about the two humans who had invaded their territory, but neither he nor the Brigadier sensed any hostility from them. Their dangling tentacles would occasionally brush against their clothes and faces, exploring them by feel, and when they did Malone felt a cold dampness like that of a wet strand of seaweed. Occasionally one or two would drift back towards the city, having seen enough, to be replaced by new arrivals come to see what all the fuss was about.
“They don’t seem to have their own personal spaces,” mused the Brigadier. “Nothing that's theirs alone, that they can personalise according to their own wishes and preferences and where they keep their personal possessions. The entire city seems to be one huge public space.”
“Do they have factories, farms, things like that?” asked Malone. “The land around the city is just wilderness. Where do they grow their food? What do they eat anyway?”
“The same kinds of domesticated farm animals we do,” replied the Brigadier. “They have farms, and they grow crops, but their farms aren't like ours. They don’t have fields with fences around them. The livestock just stays where they’re supposed to be of their own accord. The Radiants are able to control their behaviour somehow. They don’t eat crops and vegetables, but they grow them to feed to their livestock. I've seen their crop fields. They don’t need fences to keep pests out. Rabbits and insects just leave the plants alone.”
“Can they control us?” asked Malone, suddenly worried,
“No. If they could, no-one would ever try to fight them off when they tried to adopt them. People have tried to trap them, tried to kill them. Without success, but if they could control us no-one would even try. It seems they can only control lower life forms. As for factories, I don’t think they ever make anything. Not that I've ever seen, anyway. That luminous material they make their cities from is extruded from their own bodies, I think. Like spider silk.”
“So they don’t have machines to do their work for them? Pumps, mills, things like that?”
“Not that I've ever seen. They work their farms by hand. By tentacle I should say. They float above their fields, harvesting the crops by hand and placing it in large baskets made of the same Radiant silk, or whatever it is. They don’t plough their fields, or drain marshland or irrigate. They just use the land as it is.”
“Don't they realise they could increase their crop yield by ploughing, irrigating, and so on?”
“Maybe they’re able to grow all the crops they need without doing those things. You only need to farm intensively if you're trying to feed a large population on limited land. They may deliberately keep their population low so that the land can support them without having to go to all the effort that we have to. Maybe that, more than anything else, is the greatest evidence of their higher intelligence.”
They continued to guide their horses towards the city at a slow walk. “How close do you think they’ll let us get?” asked Malone.
“It’s not too late for you to leave,” replied the Brigadier. “Catch up with the men.”
“My place is with you. Beside, you said there’s no danger. They don’t adopt people against their will, and I’m not fully human anyway...”
He fell silent as he saw the Brigadier stiffen, and he followed his gaze to see what he’d seen. A human, coming from the direction of the city, walking towards them. “Our reception committee,” said the Brigadier as they dismounted, waiting for him to reach them. His body was faintly luminous, they saw. A sign that he was partially transformed to Radiant. A recent adoptee, then. Taken not more than a couple of years ago. As he got closer, though, they saw that he was older than they’d expected, with grey hair and a slight stoop. Radiants never adopted people that old. The Brigadier’s brow furrowed with puzzlement.
“Greetings,” the man said when they were close enough. His clothes were made of the same material as the city, they saw. What the Brigadier had called Radiant silk, but dyed a light blue. His shoes appeared to be leather, but they had the same soft radiance so they guessed that it was also silk, but compressed into a thicker, denser material. “My name is Daniel. Please don’t approach the city any further. I’m afraid there’s no chance of either of you being adopted...”
“My name is Brigadier Weyland James of Helberion,” replied the Brigadier, “and this is my batman Malone. We're not looking to be adopted. We’re looking for information.”
The man frowned. “What kind of information? My masters have no interest in human society. I very much doubt you’ll find anything here of concern to you.”
“Our concern is with the past. Before the Radiants came.”
Daniel stared at them, and paused a moment as if listening to something only he could hear. “You’d better come with me,” he said at last. “There are human dwellings just over there, for the humans who inhabit this place. We can talk more comfortably there.”
“We weren’t expecting to find humans here,” said Malone. “Not actually living here.”
“There aren’t many of us. We help the adoptees adjust during the early stages of their metamorphosis. Calm their fears, tell them what to expect. Radiants can’t communicate with humans directly, but close contact with them has caused us to change a little. Enough to join their telepathic commune. It allows us to act as intermediaries.”
“Then you’re the people we want...” began the Brigadier, but then he paused, looking confused. “Say something else,” he said.
Malone looked at his superior, wondering what was bothering him. “What would you like me to say?” asked Daniel.
“What language are you speaking?” asked the Brigadier.
“Ah, of course, I should have explained. I'm speaking Madrobi, the principal language of the human lands near here. The lands I used to be a citizen of. My telepathic abilities allow you to hear it in your own language. It's quite a useful ability to have in situations like this.”
“Indeed,” said the Brigadier. “Can you read our minds?”
“No. Only two people with telepathic abilities can do that to each other. I can sense what you're feeling, but that's all. I can sense your fear, which tells me you have secrets you don’t want us to know. You'll be glad to know that human secrets are of almost no interest to us, though. You have nothing to worry about.”
“That is a relief. Lead on, then.”
☆☆☆
The village of the adoptees was just a little way ahead. They would have seen it earlier if their attentions hadn't been fully fixed on the Radiant city. It looked like any normal human town except that Radiants were clustered in the air above it, one or two above each of the small brick houses. The houses had no rooves, they saw. They were open to the sky to allow the Radiants to reach in with their tentacles to touch and caress the people inside. Malone wondered what they did when it rained, but then he saw that the ground around the village was dry and parched. Some people said that the Radiants could control the weather but he had never believed it until now.
Most of the inhabitants of the village were luminous to a greater or lesser extent, but only one or two were beginning to change their physical form, their heads larger than normal with reduced facial features and with shrunken arms and legs. Malone supposed that anyone whose transformation had progressed further than that was taken to live in the Radiant city. About half the inhabitants had one or a pair of Radiants floating above them, their tentacles dangling around them and twining around their limbs and bodies. The close proximity that allowed the parent bond to form and that allowed the physical form of the parent to impress itself on the adoptee.
Many of the humans were working. Some were cutting and sewing sheets of Radiant silk to make clothes. Others were preparing food from grain, root crops and animal carcasses. All outdoors, under the sun. “Why have houses if they never go into them?” wondered Malone.
“It gives them something familiar to relate to during the early stages of their transformation,” replied Daniel. “Even though they’ve all consented or volunteered to be adopted, it can still be rather traumatic to be suddenly thrust into a completely new environment. Having houses to sleep in at night and decorate with a few personal possessions, giving them work to do, gives them a sense of familiarity and security.”
“Don't Radiants work, then?” asked the Brigadier.
“Apart from harvesting their crops and adding new webbing to their city? No. Hardly ever. They've eliminated almost all need for manual labour. The work they do is almost all mental. They think. They calculate. They study philosophy. They study the universe and strive to unlock its mysteries.”
“Would they be willing to share these insights with us, do you think?”
“I believe that most of what they study these days is beyond the comprehension of the human brain,” said Daniel apologetically. “It would be like trying to explain thermodynamics to a cat.”
“Yes, of course,” said the Brigadier drily.
“If you want to learn about the days before the Radiants, then you want the museum,” said Daniel.
“Museum?”
“The museum of the Hetin folk. The Radiants are fascinated by the civilisation that preceded our own and so they built a museum, built in the style of Hetin buildings and containing Hetin artefacts. It's looked after by Alfornus, one of the oldest of us. If you're interested in those days, he's the one you want to talk to. Shall I take you to him?”
“Yes, if you would.”
Daniel nodded and took them past the village, towards a rather stranger looking building that lay beyond it.
They had to climb a ladder to reach it. It was about the size of a nobleman's mansion, with two wings on either side of a large central hall, but it was suspended a hundred feet above the ground on strong pillars of grey stone. It had no ceiling, and the floor had large holes in the middle that allowed the Radiants to float with their tentacles dangling below. Around the holes were six foot wide strips of floor around the walls for humans to walk on.
The walls had the look of a human building, though, with benches and tables holding a variety of artefacts from before the crash. The Brigadier looked warily at the hundred foot drop to the parched ground below, without a railing to prevent a careless visitor from falling through, then turned to the nearest bench. He picked up what appeared to be a musical instrument. It was tubular and made of brass, looping around and around with keys and levers along its length. Beside it was what looked like a flute, although more elaborate than anything he’d seen before.
Daniel went off somewhere, and came back a few minutes later with a man even older looking than himself. There was no hair remaining on his head and his skin was taking on a transparent, gelatinous look that allowed the bones and muscles beneath to be partially visible. His body was partially luminous, like everyone else they'd seen here, but the Brigadier doubted that he'd survive long enough for the transformation to progress much further. Very soon now, his flesh would start to break away in small globules the size of a grain of rice as his body reverted to the form from which it had originally come. Globs. Millions of them, until all that was left was the bare skeleton, crumbling into white powder as it dried out. Maybe, one day, some of those globs would be human again.
“This is Alfornus,” said Daniel. “Curator of the museum. If anyone can find the answers you're looking for, it'll be him.”
“Welcome,” said Alfornus, reaching out a thin, bony hand that the Brigadier took and shook. “It’s very rare for us to have visitors. It’s a rare treat for me to be able to show off my collection.”
“It's good of you to take this time for us,” replied the Brigadier. “We appreciate it. King Leothan of Helberion suddenly developed an interest in the Hetin folk and has gathered together all the experts he could find on the subject. Unfortunately, even the greatest experts know very little, and so he sent us here, to see if the Radiants could tell us anything more.” Malone stared at him in puzzlement but said nothing. “We never dared hope to find something like this!” He waved a hand around at the vast collection of artefacts.
“The Radiants have been collecting these for centuries,” replied Alfornus. “There are several Hetin cities in their territories. In human lands, they have been scavenged and pillaged, torn down to make new buildings or destroyed by war, but here they’ve been left alone, except by the elements. Those buildings that have been buried by silt, or that were underground to begin with, are in almost pristine condition.”
“The King will be delighted. When he finds out about this, he'll probably want to send a fully equipped expedition to study it.”
“Please use whatever influence you have with him to dissuade him from doing that,” replied the curator, though. “We welcome the occasional visitor such as yourselves, but the Radiants would prefer not to be invaded by large numbers of outsiders. If the King wishes, I'm sure it would be possible to...” He paused for a moment, his head cocked as if listening. “Yes. The Radiants would be delighted to send a selection of Hetin artefacts to Helberion for your people to study.”
“That would be wonderful. I'm sure the King would be very grateful if that could be done.” He looked around at the room they were in. “These are clearly some kind of trumpet. These levers along here, they alter the tone of the note?”
“Exactly. One of the adoptees learned to play them a few years back, before his body changed too much. He was able to play quite a tune on it.”
“We play tunes on trumpets,” pointed out Malone irritably. “We use bugles to convey orders on the battlefield, and trumpets play a fanfare go announce the arrival of the King.”
“Not like the tunes these instruments can play. It’s impossible to describe, and no living person can play them like Osmo could, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Perhaps your King will revive the practice when he sees them. Bring trumpet music back to the world.”
He led the way across the room to where another instrument stood. It looked vaguely similar to a lyre except that the four strings were closely spaced together and ran from the broad, waisted body along a narrow neck to the tuning keys. “This one, I can sort of play, after a fashion. Enough to give you an idea.”
He picked up another object, a long wooden shaft along which a ribbon of material was strung. He wound a screw at the end to tighten the material. “It's played by drawing this bow across the strings, like this.” He did so, and the two rangers were astonished by the clear, pure note it produced, a sound unlike any other they'd ever heard. He moved the bow back and forth, and by varying its position, and by pressing his fingers against the strings, he was able to play a simple, basic tune.
“That's probably nothing compared to what a master of the instrument could have produced,” he said apologetically, putting the instrument down again.
“It was beautiful,” said the Brigadier sincerely. “You taught yourself?”
“Yes. I started just a couple of years ago, or I'd be better. It was stored down in the basement amongst all the miscellaneous items that no-one could make head or tail of. The moment I saw it though, it was as though it called out to me. I knew exactly what it was, and understood the basics of how to play it. Unfortunately, I have no time to learn to play it better. I'll be going back into the ground soon, probably before the year is out, but maybe someone else will unlock its secrets one day and play it the way it deserves to be played.”
“Are all these objects musical instruments?” asked Malone, looking around in puzzlement. Some of them were very large, but then so was the pipe organ in the palace throne room.
“Not all. This room is devoted to entertainment, and many of those objects are thought to be used for sports and games, although we can only guess what the rules were or how they were played.” He moved to another table. “We believe that these objects were used to hit a ball. From their design, you can see that the balls used in various sports varied in size and hardness.“
“Crikey!” said Malone, staring in astonishment at the variety of sticks, rackets and clubs. At least a dozen of them. “They must have liked their sports a lot.”
“Yes, or perhaps they just couldn't agree among themselves which sport they liked best. Today, kickball, parfive and overnet are played pretty much throughout the human world, with only minor variations among different cultures. Just three sports. The Hetin folk, apparently, had dozens.”
“Do you have a collection of weapons?” asked the Brigadier.
“Oh yes, although we suspect that they represent only a small selection of what they fought wars with. If you’ll come this way...”