Today I bring you part one of "The Nether" a science fiction tale of exploration and the unknown. I want to say more, but there's more of A Memory of Light left to read. So here is the story.
The Nether
Velnor hated the tunnels. Every time he climbed up one, it
felt like he was suffocating. He could hear his breath coming in ragged gasps
through the respirator, and see the little puff of smoke disappear outside of
his helmet. He winced in spite of himself at the trouble miner 373 would find
himself in when they discovered his suit was missing. The thought did not stop
Velnor though as he made his way, hand over hand, upwards. Like the tunnel
itself, taking the suit was unavoidable. Without it, he would lose his soul to
the nether.
A burst of steam shot out of one of the pipes going from the
mining tunnels to the rest of the world, startling Velnor. He lost his grip on
the rung, the large fingers of the gloves made grabbing difficult, and swung
from one hand next to the endless ladder. His bag, the reason for this mad
venture, crashed into one of the pipes, sending echoes back to the world.
For
a while, Velnor hung there, fearing to hear the sounds of technicians arriving
to check on the noise. The tunnels were off limits, save for the miners. If
they found him up here… Velnor did not want to think about what the Pryarchs would
say, let alone what his father would do to him if he were caught.
With
images of people scurrying after him, Velnor resumed his efforts and continued
climbing. Gradually the soil around the ladder changed from the deep purple of
the world to a reddish brown as he neared top. The climb up was nearly an hour
long, and even in as good of shape as he was, Velnor still had to stop and rest
a few times. He secured his feet against the rungs and leaned back against the
soil, giving his arms a break. It was
tiring climbing to the end of the tunnels and not just because of the effort.
The bulky suit needed to protect him from the nether weighed him down and made
each of his movements slow and stiff. On top of that, the condescend atmosphere
the suit created tasted flat and stale.
Eventually
Velnor reached the end of ladder. There were dozens of mining tunnels around
him, but Velnor took the one that headed to his left and started walking along
it. The tunnel quickly sloped up as he walked through it, making the scramble
over the ruble difficult. Suddenly the tunnel leveled out. Velnor walked out of
the end and found himself in the nether.
It
was dark all around him, a black deeper than the hides of the Crayla beasts.
And it was cold too. Even with the mining suit on, Velnor could feel the cold
invading his bones. He remembered the cold scaring him the first time he had
come here with Jeonob and Beyla. Of course, he had known it would be cold
without the holy fires of the All-Being, nothing here could be warm. Velnor had
just never realized that there had been a cold that cold.
The
three, of them, Jeonob, Beyla and Velnor, had journeyed to the nether about
five ages ago, soon after the hole was discovered. One of the mining tunnels had
collapsed, and when rescuers came to help, they found that there was hole in
Mir, a hole to the nether. The Pryarchs had demanded that the hole be sealed,
lest we lose the fires of the All-Being. There were arguments for weeks about
what to do. Some claimed that by studying the nether, we could learn more about
the All-Being and why he created Mir about himself. Others cited the Mi’Bruk,
about how the nether is the absences of good, about how not even the All-Being
could stand being in it.
While
everyone around them argued about what to do, the three friends decided to
explorer the nether. The air around the deep up mining shafts was thin enough
to be nonexistent, so it was a logical thought that when going to a place with
no air, a mining suit should be used. They quickly stole three sets and began
the long climb up.
After
all the preparations, all the work, their trip to the nether lasted less than a
minute. The cold and darkness quickly terrified Beyla, and Velnor could see
Jeonob’s face grow pale. They fled back down the tunnels, heading for the
safety of the world, but not before Velnor saw something that his friends had
missed. The darkness around them was not complete. Instead of the inky
blackness his friends saw, Velnor noticed that there were small lights
scattered in it.
When
he had returned home, he had questioned Pryarch Necor about the nether. With
all of Mir talking about the opening, the Pryarch did not find Velnor’s
questions suspicious. He told Velnor that the nether was a dark void, as stated
in the Mi’Bruk, and that there was nothing in it. When Velnor asked, as off
handedly as possible, if there could be any lights in the nether, Pryarch Necor
said no. Then, after a moment’s thought, he changed his mind. There could be
lights in the nether, he supposed, the light of the lost souls, trying to find
their way back to the All-Being.
As
he looked up into the darkness of the nether around him, Velnor could see the
lost souls shinning down. He set down his bag, glad to be free of its weight
for a moment, and removed his farseerer. Normally he used the farseerer to help
his father keep track of the Crayla beast herd on their ranch. Now he hoped to
use it to see a soul. It was difficult to use the farseerer through the helmet,
but when he got it aligned properly, the sight made him forget about the stale
air and the cold.
When
Velnor imagined what the souls would look like, he had thought they would look
like people. Maybe pale, ghostly people, but people none the same. What he saw
through the farseerer was nothing like that. Instead of the people, the lenses
revealed beautiful floating orbs. Some were yellow, some blue, some even had
rings about them. It was the most wondrous thing Velnor had ever seen. None of
them though, could compare with the largest orb. It was blue, green and white,
full of swirling colors and shapes.
Velnor
was staring at the colored orb when he saw a small orb of white light shoot out
from the larger blue orb. It was too small for him to make out with the
farseerer, but he followed its path anyway as it made its way past one of the
grey orbs. He wanted to see where it was going, he wanted to know why a soul
would shoot anything out, but the cold was becoming unbearable. Already his
feet and fingers had turned numb, and the idea of staying too long in the
nether frightened him. He quickly packed up his farseerer and headed back down
the tunnel to the warmth of the living world.
So that was the beginning of "The Nether." Part two will be here next Thursday, while Tuesday's post will be about something completely different. Until then, amuse yourselves while I read about Randland. Man, that is a good book.
-Me
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