The Last Guardian

Then the Change had begun in Shir-ran. The priests gave thanks and blessed him, and a great celebration was ordered for the dwellers of the city. But Oshere had noticed that Chreena did not join in the festivities.

One night he found her in the ancient medi-chamber of the palace, poring over Scrolls of the Lost Ones. And he remembered her words:

'Damn you, you bastards! Was there no end to your arrogance?'

Oshere had walked forward. In those days he too had been tall and well formed, his eyes wide-set and tawny, his hair dark and gleaming, held in place by a band of gold. 'What troubles you, Chreena?'

'Your whole stupid civilisation!' she stormed. 'You know, once upon a time a people called the Incas believed that they could make people gods by cutting out their hearts.'

'Stupidity,' Oshere agreed.

'You are no different. Shir-ran is being mutated into some kind of beast and you all drink to it. I have never mocked your legends, nor sought to fill you with the arcane knowledge I possess. But this?'

'What are you saying, Chreena?'

'How can I explain this to you? You have seen that dust and water combine to make clay. Yes?

Well, all living organisms are the same. We are all a combination of parts.'

'I know all this, Chreena; Heart, lungs, liver. Every child knows it.'

'Wait,' she commanded. 'I don't mean just the organs, or the bones or the blood. Oh, this is impossible…'

Oshere sat down facing her desk. 'I am not slow-witted. Explain it to me.'

Slowly she began to talk of the genetic material that was vital to all living organisms. She did not use its Between Times name — deoxyribonucleic acid — nor the initials by which it became better known. But she did try to explain its importance in terms of controlling hereditary characteristics.

For an hour she spoke, accompanying her words with sketches.

'So,' said Oshere at last, 'you are saying that these magic chains divide themselves into exact replicas? For what purpose?'

With extraordinary patience Chreena moved on to talk of genes and chromosomes. At last the light of understanding dawned in Oshere.

'I begin to see. How fascinating! But how does this make us stupid? Until we are told — or discover — new knowledge, we cannot be accused of foolishness. Can we?'

'I guess not,' said Chreena, 'but that is not what I meant. What I am saying is that Shir-ran's genetic structure is changing, mutating. The daughter chains are no longer identical to the parent -

and now I know why.'

'Tell me.'

'Because you are not people. You are…' she stopped suddenly and looked away and Oshere's tawny eyes narrowed.

'Finish what you were saying.'

'Someone — some group — in the Between Times inserted a different gene into your ancestors -

into your basic genetic code, if you like. Now — once in maybe five generations — the structure breaks down and reverts. Shir-ran is not becoming a god — he's becoming what his ancestor was.

A lion.'

Oshere rose. 'There are statues in the old cities which show lion-headed gods. They were worshipped. I have been educated to believe in the religion of my ancestors and I will not throw it aside. But I will speak to you again; I will learn which is correct.'

Chreena rose and took his arm. 'I'm sorry, Oshere. I should never have told you. You must not mention it to anyone else — especially Shir-ran.'

'It is rather too late for that,' said Shir-ran as he ambled into the room, his huge leonine head tilted. 'I am sorry, Chreena. It was rude to listen, but I could not help myself. I don't know about you, Oshere, but I do know I never felt less like a god.'

Oshere had seen tears in the great tawny eyes and had backed away from the former lovers.

Shir-ran had fled the city three months later, passing from the land without comment. Oshere had spent the time since then with Chreena, learning in secret all the dark lore of the Between Times -

save how it fell. Then — a month ago — Oshere himself had woken in the dawn to find his muscles racked with pain and his face strangely distended.

Chreena had worked ceaselessly to help him. But to no avail.

Now all he wanted was to learn as much as he could about the land, the stars and the Lord of All Things. And he had one dream he held in his heart like a jewel. He wanted to see the Ocean. Just once.

* * *

Her dreams were troubled. She was sitting at a feast, the only woman present. Around her the men were handsome and tall, their smiles easy, full of warmth and friendliness. She reached out to touch her companion and her hand rested on his arm, felt the fur. Then she recoiled and looked up into tawny eyes that chilled her, saw the long fangs that could rend her flesh. She sat frozen as, one by one, the men became lions, their eyes no longer friendly.

She awoke in a cold sweat and swung her long legs from the bed. The night was cool and the breeze from the balcony window caressed her naked body as she walked to the balcony and gazed over the moonlit city.

The People of the Dianae slept now in blissful ignorance of the real doom that awaited them. She shivered and returned to the bedroom. Sleep would not come again, but she was too tired to work.

Wrapping herself in a warm woollen blanket, she pulled a chair to the balcony and sat beneath the stars.

'I miss you, Samuel,' she said, picturing the kindly face of the husband she had lost, the father of the son she had lost. 'If all men had been like you, the world would have remained Eden.'

But all men were not as Samuel Archer had been. They were driven by greed, or lust, hate or fear.

She shook her head. The People of the Dianae had never known war. They were gentle and conciliatory, kind and understanding. Now, like a perverse cosmic jest, they were beginning a reversion to savagery.

The Bear-people had long since lost their humanity. Chreena had journeyed with Shir-ran to one of their settlements close to the Pool of the Sword and what she had seen there was terrifying.

Only one human was left among them, and he had begun to revert.

'Go away from us,' he had said. 'We are cursed.'

Now their settlement was deserted, the tribe moving to the high timberlands away from prying eyes; far from pity or loathing.

A hunting roar sounded in the distance from the pride that roamed the plain before the city and Chreena shivered. Some thirty lions were living there, preying upon the deer and antelope. Yet once they had been men and women who talked and laughed, and sang.

Her eyes scanned the ancient buildings. Just four hundred of the Dianae remained — not enough to survive and grow.

'Why do you see the lions as gods?' Chreena had asked the old Priest, Men-chor. 'They lose the power of speech and become mindless.'

'The tale of Elder days,' he replied, smiling as he closed his eyes and began to recite the opening of the Book. 'First there was the goddess Marik-sen, who walked under the sun and knew no words, nor ancient stories, nor even the name of her father, nor even that her father had a name.