Jon was fascinated to hear of the Land from which she had come and on how nothing threatened any other thing but lived together in a harmonious world of warmth, plenty and gentleness. How different from my forest! he thought somewhat bitterly, as the memories of being stalked by the ferocious night predators came unpleasantly back into his mind. And the endless search for elusive kabarras. How wonderful it must be to simply dip one’s hand into the river and pull out a fat food fish!
As far as he could determine his guest had come from precisely the opposite direction to his. She knew nothing of the Lords of the Sands, from which Jon determined that their territory must be strictly limited in area and did not form an encircling ring around the hill. His eyes narrowed when she talked of Zarka and Akraz and the conundrums that they had forced her to confront, wishing he had been there to allow them to taste the bitter blackness of his sword.
She had just finished relating the final one that they had set her when a little light of devilment came into her eyes.
‘And what is the solution Jon? A worldly-wise person such as yourself must be able to grasp it at once.’
Jon went very still. For reasons he could not express, he had found himself wishing to impress her in everything he said or did. The sensible thing would have been to confess his inability for, if the truth be told, he hadn’t even been able to solve the first problem.
But although he didn’t know why, he wasn’t feeling entirely sensible.
‘It’s … it’s …’ he said, very slowly.
Shana cocked her head slightly to one side.
‘Yes?’ she murmured sweetly.
‘It’s …’
‘It’s to do with the problem of self-reference. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?’
Jon wasn’t sure whether she was setting a playful trap for him but decided to take a chance.
‘Yes. That’s exactly it.’
She clapped her hands. ‘There – I knew you’d understand!’
Jon was amazed by how much relief he felt at that. He hadn’t felt anything like it since the Lords had decided to spare his life.
She stood up in a single fluid, graceful movement and wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. She moved towards the open door, feeling the cooling air wash over her in gentle ripples.
‘It’s not like the Land here but it has its beauty.’
Jon nodded wisely though the concept of his surroundings being “beautiful” had never crossed his mind.
She moved closer to the doorway.
‘It seems peaceful here. Looking down on everything. Admiring the deep green sky.’
Jon looked up sharply at that comment. He had thought that he and the woman had been able to establish a complete understanding when they spoke to each other. His language and hers had seemed to have been identical up to this point.
He joined her at the doorway.
‘That’s odd,’ he said, ‘you use a different word than we do.’
She turned. ‘In what way?’
‘Well you use the word “green” and we use the word “red.”’
A frown crinkled her otherwise unblemished forehead.
‘What are you talking about?’
He held her shoulder (without asking permission) and turned her so she was looking directly at the sky.
‘The sky – it’s what we call red.’
‘Jon, I know what red is. The sky is not red.’
Jon gave a tolerant smile and pulled the blanket a little way from her bare shoulders.
‘Shana. This is what we call “green”.’
Her expression, at first bemused, was beginning to show unmistakeable signs of irritation. Jon began to wonder what he had done wrong now.
‘That’s what I call green too. The sky is green!’
Jon’s expression changed as well, from tolerance to somewhat worried concern. Had he offered to share his house with a madwoman?
He tried again.
‘Tell me what you see.’
‘I see a deep green sky. And just now the circle that means the time of darkness is coming has appeared at the zenith.’
Jon stared up.
He saw no circle.
He said, very slowly and carefully, ‘Do you not see a deep red sky with bands of purple beginning to show?’
‘No I do not.’
Jon went back into the room and sat down, deep in thought.
And then he looked up and said, slowly and carefully, ‘Shana, there is something wrong with The Universe.’
Six
They sat staring at each other, unable to speak, almost unable to think. Vague, inchoate thoughts swirled muddily in their minds, refusing to come to a stop, refusing to settle, refusing to clarify. Doubts which had had no form, no substance, now rose to dominate their thinking. What was this world they inhabited? And more to the point, what was their role in it?
Shana spoke first. She lifted her head and Jon was taken aback to see the lines of worry drawn harshly across her face, twisting it into the face of someone he hardly knew.
‘Have you had doubts about this world of ours?’ she whispered.
Jon nodded. ‘Yes. Just before that compulsion to leave the forest came upon me. I had them.’
‘And what did you doubt?’
‘Little things which I had never noticed before. The way the creatures in the forest seemed clumsy, awkward…’ he hesitated for a few moments, searching for the words, the concepts, ‘they looked – badly designed.’
She nodded. ‘I thought the same things about the creatures in the Land. It did not seem possible that they could be independent living things. Not like me. I have structure, a complexity which they lacked. And like you, I suddenly came to that realisation. It was if a curtain had been drawn.’
He said nothing but stared at her impassively, waiting for her to still his tumbling thoughts.
She continued: ‘And the more you look, the more you see.’ She reached across the narrow space between then, touching his arm as a child looking for comfort might touch its parent. ‘Have you ever wondered why it is that we take things into our bodies, food, water, but nothing comes out?’
He hadn’t but as soon as she had said it the absurdity of the situation hit him like a physical blow.
‘Yes, of course. How can that be possible? If you put objects in a carrying bag there comes a time when no more can go in. But that doesn’t happen to us. Or anyone else for that matter.’
He thought of the Lords of the Sands and how he had found their physical form somewhat absurd. And they too had eaten and drunk without consequences.
Shana had developed a look he didn’t like; a troubled, hunted expression that sat badly on her.
‘Something is wrong,’ she muttered, looking around the room as if the answer lay somewhere within it, ‘something badly wrong.’
Silence fell again as they realised that they faced an existential issue beyond their abilities to unravel.
The silence was broken by a sharp knock on the side of the doorway. Jon sprang up to see who was calling at this hour of the time of darkness.
A figure came in and the flickering light revealed it to be Jon11.
Shana sprang to her feet, disconcerted by the appearance of a near-identical copy of the man she was with.
‘Who is this?’ she gasped, turning to her original companion.
‘I’m Jon11,’ the other answered, ‘I’d heard that there was a woman in our part of the village and I came to see if the story was true.’