Free Terrarium by Scott Russell Sanders Page B

Jurgen’s chocolate, Indy’s olive, Sol’s velvety purple-black, the sandy skin of Coyt and Marie, the pale blond of Josh and Hinta. A rainbow of flesh, and a rich genetic pool for starting a new society.
    In shadows beyond reach of the flare she could make out the bulky shapes of crates waiting for transport out through a pipeline to the coast. These supplies were the last they needed for the settlement, and would soon be hidden away in the basalt caves at Whale’s Mouth.
    Her thoughts were still skipping about over the details of the escape when the first wave of power swept round the circle. It lifted her, let her fall again, as waves toyed with her when she bathed in the ocean. Center in, she urged her buzzing brain. Still yourself. Yet she found it hard to let herself go. With everyone anxious for departure, would they accept Phoenix? she kept wondering. And even if they did, would he be strong enough to survive outside?
    The other faces around the circle were already on the threshold of trance, eyes lowered, jaws slack, and Teeg had to keep herself from rushing to catch up with them. Rushing never carried you inward to the still point. The only path to the center was through patient listening. Legs crossed, feet tucked up close, hands loosely clasped in her lap, she tensed all her muscles and then slowly relaxed them. After one last glimpse of Marie’s serene weather-beaten face and Sol’s stunning profile—white beard on black skin—she lowered her eyes. Sol and Marie, these were the two she liked tocarry with her into the darkness, for they shone so brightly with the inner light.
    The day slowly emptied from her: crowds shuttling through avenues, lightsigns commanding attention, gliders whizzing overhead, the blare of informats, the syntho-smells, the petty abrasions of a day in the city. The buzz in her head thinned away until all she could hear was breathing. Then the echoes of breathing dwindled away and she was bathed in silence. There were no words, no images, only stillness.
    Wave after wave of power poured through her.
    Sometime later a voice spoke. Teeg did not bother to attach a name to the speaker. She contained the voice, and the voice contained her.
    â€œPraise the Lord,” it chanted, “praise the sun, praise the moon, praise the green world.”
    The words sifted down through layers of silence into her mind.
    Then another voice: “Lift the stone and you will find me, cleave the wood and I am there.”
    And another: “One of the mystics said, ‘Whether you like it or not, whether you know it or not, secretly Nature seeks and hunts and tries to ferret out the track in which God may be found.’”
    And a voice rose up and sang greenness until all the world was green, and every last cell of Teeg’s body was dancing. And she found words vibrating in her own throat, but what spoke was no more her voice than the others had been: “Another wishes to join us, a walker who is weary of the city. His heart longs for the wilds. Shall he become part of our circle?”
    Silence for a time, then a whisper: “The flow unites all things, the living and the unliving. In the depths of me, within our circle, in every creature and gathering of creatures the river flows on.”
    And later: “The city is a dam across the river. The people of the city are deafened. They do not hear the waters.”
    More silence, an atmosphere of silence, and Teeg wasfloating inward to the source, and there was a shining in the stillness, and she was the shining, and there was nothing but light.
    After a time stillness gave way to movement, silence gave way to the sound of blood in her ears. She had eased back into the supple envelope of her skin. Now she saw again through eyes of the body. Where the shining had been there was an oil-smeared patch of floor.
    At last Jurgen’s baritone murmured, “Peace,” and the circle began to stir, bodies