Extract from “The Book of Pan” Earth’s children grew up on a staple diet of Fairy tales, stories of Good triumphing over Evil despite the odds, and where everything was black and white. The Evil witch always wore a cloak of deepest night, the Wizard lived in a tower of shadows, and the fair maiden with locks of gold and flowing robes was always swept to safety by the shining Knight on his white steed. The bright light of Good would always vanquish the Shadow of Evil, setting the world to rights, and everyone lived happily ever after. Good and Evil, Right and Wrong, Black and White… “A simple concept, but it’s not real life, is it?” I hear you cry, “Life is full of shades of grey." Let’s analyse this, Dear Reader. Can someone be “a little bit Evil”? Is it possible to be “mostly Good”? What defines an act as Good or Evil anyway? The “White Light of Truth” and the “Shadow of Evil”… Scientifically, white light is every shade of every colour mixed in equal proportion. Black is the total absence of all colours, nothing at all. Maybe the same could be said of Good and Evil. Perhaps, to do NOTHING is an act of Evil, to take NO ACTION the cause of all ills in the world. To see a problem and try nothing to solve it may be considered thoughtless by many, but perhaps this wilful inaction should be taken as a true Evil. Aahh, but then an act of Good… If White encompasses EVERYTHING, then surely to take ANY action is an act of Good? The Actor may be judged on the result of his actions, others will comment on the outcome, always with their own circumstances in mind, but, ultimately, the Actor acted… So, where does this leave our Hero, his choices many, the outcome uncertain, with fear of retribution weighing heavily upon him? How, now, should he make his decision? That, Dear Reader, is the question… Chapter 10; First Steps “Pan wants to see her,” Lyssa said without taking her eyes from the Primitive crouched before her, “We have to leave now. Time is short, and the bitch is awake.” Chiara finished stamping out the fire then turned to Lyssa. The darkness concealed the concern that furrowed her brow, but Chiara had heard the slight tremor in Lyssa’s voice and knew that they both felt the same. Pan was a long way from here, the terrain was rough and the Primitive unused to such journeys; tough as she might be, the low oxygen and harsh conditions would play havoc with the girl’s health and she would probably die before they reached their destination. “Why her?” Chiara asked, “Why now? She doesn’t fit the profile, and Pan has never asked to see any of them before. It’s a waste of time, even if she does make it that far. We should be looking for answers, not indulging his scientific curiosity.” “Maybe you were right,” said Lyssa, “maybe we should have looked closer at the Primitives for the one. Pan clearly thinks so.” She crouched down in front of the girl, and laid the spear at her feet. “What’s your name?” she said. “I am Malian, Guardian of Thorkis,” she replied cautiously, “and I am here to find my friend.” “Yeah, well,” said Lyssa, “slight change of plans. You are coming with us. Let’s get moving.” Malian took the spear and chased after Lyssa as she walked away. “But my friend is missing,” pleaded Malian, “I can’t go anywhere until I find her! She was supposed to meet me here, she might be hurt and-“ “Your friend is dead!” Lyssa spat, whirling to face Malian, “She’s been taken, pulled apart and who knows what else, and you’ll be next if you stay here!” Malian’s face crumbled as her worst fear was driven home. Samet had been like a sister to her, they had grown up together and spent countless hours of their short adult lives hunting as a team, watching each other’s backs. Guilt settled itself upon Malian’s shoulders; she should have been with Samet when she left, this should not have happened, she should not have let it happen. Lyssa sighed, her frustration dissipating as a tear rolled down Malian’s cheek. “I’m sorry Malian, but your friend is gone. There are… things out here that you have no idea about, dangerous things. Inhuman things. You won’t see them until it’s too late, and once they have you, you’re lost.” “The Grey Ones took her, didn’t they?” asked Malian flatly. Lyssa shot Chiara a quick glance, both of them careful to mask their surprise. Malian could only be talking about the Mechs, and if she’d seen them and survived, well… Maybe Pan was right after all. “Look, Malian,” said Lyssa, “we need to take you to see someone. It’s important, real important. What happened to your friend will happen to all of your people and to the Colony too unless we stop it, and you may have the answer.” Malian nodded. “Old Mother told me I would meet you and that we would have something to do,” she said, “I didn’t believe her, I thought it impossible that I was the one from the prophecy.” Lyssa’s heart skipped a beat. The Primitives had known all along? All of these countless years of searching, taking risks and testing theories, and a bunch of cave dwellers had already figured it out, waiting for the right moment and for the One to come to them. Questions reeled through her mind, but she drove them back; they would have to wait, time was short and growing shorter. She turned to Chiara. “Which way, Chiara? We’ve got two options. Either we take the salt flats across the bay, or head for the carrier. What do you think?” “Thanks sis, give me the unimportant decisions why don’t you?” she replied, the sarcasm clear in her voice. Chiara knew it was coming. Her innate sense for Mech presence and movements made her the logical choice for such decisions, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. She paused to think, weighing the pros and cons of two equally troublesome routes. “We’ll be exposed for miles across the flats, there’s no cover at all, nowhere to hide in a hurry, but then how do we know the carrier even works anymore? It’s been sitting there for nearly a thousand years, the power cell is more than likely dead, and I’m not sure even I can get it going again. But given the distance we have to travel, we both know this’ll be tough on Malian unless we do get it going. If we go there and it doesn’t work though, we add miles to our journey.” She sighed heavily and cursed under her breath. There was no right or wrong here, just guesswork and intuition, and any route could end in disaster. “Okay,” she said a last, “the carrier would be our best bet assuming it works. Our biggest risk would be to go fifty miles across the flats with no cover, limited supplies and, probably, increased Mech activity. It’s the quickest route, but the most dangerous. So we go for the carrier. “Worst case, we get there and I can’t get it going, then we cut up through Dark Valley on foot and pick up the supplies at the north end. We add another twenty miles to our journey like that, but at least we do it with some cover and a chance to gear up. Mechs will definitely be on the move along the valley, so we travel at night, stick to the ridge path. Either way, we still have a problem. “Malian, what’s the furthest you’ve travelled?” “Fifty miles west,” she replied, “We went to trade with the Colony. It was a hard journey, but I am stronger than I look.” She pulled herself up proudly, and planted the end of her spear in the sand. “We need to go at least twice that distance, and we need to go quickly,” said Chiara, “Do you think you can make it?” “I will make it, because my people need me to,” she said defiantly, “I am the Guardian of Thorkis, it is my purpose to protect the people.” Lyssa nodded. The decision was made. “We have about six hours ‘til sunup. If we go now, we can be halfway to the carrier before dawn.” ****************************************************************** Pinkie waited at a safe distance while the women talked. He couldn’t hear what they said, he couldn’t see them either, but he would know when they moved. Their presence burned his inner sight even from here, and he didn’t need to be close by to follow them, they would leave a trail like an arc of flame across the landscape. And for this task, this smallest of efforts, She would reward him with double. His smile was so broad that the hard leathery skin of his face had cracked and bled in several places. He rubbed absent-mindedly at the itching with metallic fingers, smearing bloody maroon streaks across his face like warpaint. East. They were going east. He moved out, matching their pace, keeping his distance. They moved steadily, winding their way down the mountainside, then following the foot of the range, keeping to the shadows and cover of the loose boulders that littered the plain. Pinkie already expected the inevitable; he was no fool, no matter what others might think. Travel at night, rest during the day, that’s how they would do it, and this pleased him. Pinkie didn’t need sleep anymore; it would give him plenty of time to think, to plan and to eat if he needed to. And yet, something niggled in the back of his mind. Something was out here, something important, something to the east that he should know about but had forgotten. It was there in his head, but the loose and wayward fingers of his thoughts kept slipping when he tried to grasp it. No matter, he had all night. He followed them until dawn, and sure enough at the first light of the rising sun, the women stopped, sheltered beneath a heavy outcrop of rock. Pinkie halted and sat right where he was, the full glare of the sun not bothering him in the slightest. There was a good twelve hours before they would move again, time enough to process his thoughts and maybe get a handle on the irritating and most elusive fact that had bothered him all night. I am hungry, he thought. She sent him scorpions, which he grabbed and ate greedily. Thirsty, he mused. The earth to his right bubbled, and a small pool of cloudy liquid formed. He scooped handfuls of sand and water to his mouth, quenching his thirst. She always provided, no matter where he was. She kept him fed and watered, provided shelter when he wanted it and kept him alive. Why, once he’d been travelling for months, following the two, and all he had wanted was a little comfort, a place to sit out of the sun for a while, cool and dark. And what did She send him? Nothing less than the location of a vehicle, a very old vehicle that had been built by Her people from long ago. He had stayed there for two whole days, surrounded by Her, cocooned in Her like an unborn child. Such a gift would only be given to one of great importance, and it was here that he had recognised his true value. She had- It struck him like a thunderbolt; that was where they were heading. They intended to take the vehicle, to use it to carry them wherever they were going. And if they did, he would lose them. “No, no, NO!!! They CAN’T!” he screamed, and sprang to his feet. He began to run, powerful bio- mechanical legs forging through the sand with ease. He would stop them. He would get there first. And when he did, he would destroy the vehicle.