Free Always Forever by Mark Chadbourn Page B

apprehensively. "No, it wasn't a
dream at all. I felt Balor in my head." The gulls over the sea suddenly erupted
in a crazed bout of squawking. "It knows what we're doing, Church."
    A chill brushed slowly across his skin.
    "It was so powerful." Her eyes were fixed on the horizon. "And it's growing
stronger by the minute. I'm afraid of what the world's going to be like when we
get back. And I'm afraid that Bator will be waiting for us."
    The food was delivered about an hour later by one of the blank-faced gods:
bread, dried meat, dried fruits, and a liquid that tasted like mead. They ate hungrily and then returned to the deck. Manannan was at the wheel, surveying the
horizon, while the crew prepared the ship for departure.
    "If we're going to back out, now's the time," Ruth said. "Once it sets sail,
we'll be trapped with this collection of freaks until the bitter end." She thought
for a moment, then revised her words. "Until we reach our destination."
    They moved over to the rail to take one last look at Mousehole. People moved quietly along the front, oblivious to Wave Sweeper's presence. The sky
was still blue, the sun bright on the rooftops, the wind fresh. Church scanned
the length of the coastline, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

    "I love it," he said.
    "What?"
    "Britain. The world. There's so much-" He broke off. "I never thought
about it before. It was just there."
    Ruth said nothing, caught in a moment of admiration for the untroubled
innocence that still lay at the heart of him, despite all that was happening.
    Twenty minutes later everything appeared to be in place. Manannan looked at
various crew members scattered around the ship waiting for a nod of approval
before raising his hand and slowly letting it drop. A wind appeared from
nowhere, filling the sail with a creaking of canvas and a straining of rope.
Almost imperceptibly at first, the ship began to move, turning slowly until it
was facing the open sea in a tight manoeuvre that would have been impossible
for any normal vessel.
    Church allowed himself one last, yearning look back at the Cornish coast
and then they were moving towards the horizon, picking up speed as they went.
    Wave Sweeper skimmed the sea at an impressive rate. The activity continued on
deck, but Church couldn't work out exactly what it was the crew were doing; at
times their actions looked nonsensical, yet they were obviously affecting the
ship's speed and direction. Overhead, the gulls screeched as they swooped
around the sails. Manannan faced the horizon, eyes narrowed against the wind
that whisked his mane of hair out behind him.
    "Can you feel it?" Ruth asked.
    Until then he hadn't, but her perceptions had become much sharper than
his. It manifested as a burnt metal taste at the back of his mouth, a heat to his
forehead that caused palpitations and faint nausea. A drifting sea haze appeared
from nowhere and was gone just as quickly, and suddenly the world was a much
better place: the sun brighter, the sky bluer, the sea so many shades of sapphire
and emerald it dazzled the eyes. Even the scent of the air was richer.
    The gods relaxed perceptibly and an aura of calm fell across the ship.
Church went to the rail and watched the creamy wake spread out behind. "I
wish I could understand how all this worked."
    "I shouldn't trouble yourself." Ruth held her head back to feel the sun on
her face. "For years all the rationalists and reductionists have been fooling themselves, building up this great edifice on best guesses and possibilities and maybes while ignoring anything that threatened the totality of the vision. It was
a belief system like any religion. Fundamentalist. And now the foundations have
been kicked away and it's all coming crashing down. Nobody knows anything.
Nobody will ever know anything-we're never going to find out the big picture. Our perceptions just aren't big enough to take it all in."

    Church agreed thoughtfully. "That doesn't