A crowd of dark figures was moving slowly along a damp, mouldy-smelling corridor. Water was dripping through the walls, built of massive boulders. But the splash of water drops against their black hoods didn't disturb this quiet procession. On both sides of the corridor here and there was a glimpse of a niche with a narrow stone staircase going down from it. The blazing torches on the walls flickered in silence.
A cry of unbearable suffering broke the gloomy silence of the dungeons. There was nothing human left in this cry, only boundless bestial agony. The Jesuit monks were not disturbed the least by that. Here in the dungeons of Master Eugenius, such a cry was a common thing. The monks themselves had more than once taken part in ceremonies of immolation, where the twisting tongues of flame would extract even more horrid sounds of agony from the mouth of a living torch.
A bulky oak door appeared ahead. Its iron claddings were thickly covered with rust. Dampness had done its work. As they saw the door, the monks instinctively quickened their step. Behind it, there should be what they had been called for, from all the corners of northern Spain. The eminent scholar Mortel, who had annoyed the Order for many years already, was caught at last with his heretical sermons. All sorts of mechanisms of unclear purpose were found in his estate; apparently they were his means of communicating with the devil himself. Presently he was here. Here, behind these doors, where the gracious Master for the entire last week had been trying to extract the secrets of Satanic worship from him. Many monks had things to ask him about too, as nobody knew the explanation of certain enigmas better than Mortel. Truly, this is devil's knowledge, but if it serves for sacred purposes...
After a long and persistent knocking, a heavily armoured sentry reluctantly opened the door. Without even giving the strangers a glance, he hurried out into the hallway. Soon the monks understood the reason for his haste. In the middle of the small chamber, a malodorous, shapeless lump of flesh was hanging in chains suspended from the ceiling. Even in a calloused soldier, used to the sight of torture, this environment might provoke too big an aversion. Very likely the subject of his disgust was nobody else but Mortel. A mutter of disappointment swept through the company of monks. They had hoped to find the scholar still alive, to question him on certain things that many of them came here for.
The one loudest in his dissatisfaction was Father Petronius, who came here to learn about the tantalising mystery of Fontebi Valley. Though, frankly speaking, was it a mystery? Everybody knew the fanatic zeal that urged Petronius to hunt after Moors, heretics and other infidels in his parish. Bonfires spewing clouds of smoke into the sky and cries of burning victims were a daily event to his frightened parishioners. All the while the Fontebi Valley was the only place that the cruel Jesuit's terror couldn't reach.
Inhabitants of the Valley, fierce devil's offspring, teeming with the most terrible kinds of degeneration, withstood all the military expeditions of the Jesuit Order. The degenerates would throw rocks and stones on the attackers from the hilltops. The soldiers never managed to win through those mountains. Inhabitants who remained in the Valley were burned together with their settlements. A lot of monsters were found there! No wonder that soldiers were not willing to climb the mountains to fight the demons after that. The people in the neighbourhood of the Valley could only shake their heads as they watched the battle in the Valley. Few in Petronius' escort ever dared to hint that the Valley people were nothing more than unsociable strangers. The marriages of relatives are common among them, that's why it's easy to understand that birth defects sometimes occur.
The Jesuit would always answer in the same way. Human beings are creations of God, while the degenerates are the ones of the devil. Therefore they must be exterminated. Nobody ever contradicted him, everybody was fearful that he himself would be added to the number of victims.
And now, when there there gleamed some hope of learning something about those evil creatures, or even of a way to conquer them, the Master so irresponsibly killed a significant source of information. This drove Petronius to fury.
Emerging suddenly out of the darkness of the semi-cellar, Eugenius was in time to hear some of the abusive language that the monks treated him to. His burning eyes at once were fixed on the humped figure of Petronius. Apparently the words of the latter were the most impudent. The Master gave a peevish smile and spoke:
"I suppose you have already noticed you arrived a bit too late. Nothing to be done; the executioners overdid it somewhat. They will certainly get what they deserve. But those poor wretches are not so much guilty: Mortel turned out to be a hard nut to crack."
"His present state definitely proves that", one of the black-skirted company stuck in.
"Yes." With a certain fierce pleasure the Master once again looked at Petronius, who now made a try to step back into the crowd unnoticed.
"Well, anyway, I don't want you to feel disappointed after coming such a long way. I promise, therefore, to answer all your questions. Besides, a bit later I'll give you a demonstration of a certain device, on whose performance we questioned Mortel successfully. If this, umm... sinner told the truth, you will be witnesses of the greatest event."
"Sinner, your grace?"
"Yes, only a sinner. In the end he repented with great fervour and confessed to being guilty. Furthermore, the device I mentioned might be a priceless boon to the Church. Well, I'm ready to answer your questions."
The room echoed with the monks' restrained baritones. Many of them were interested in minor obscurities that arose in the course of the fight against infidels. Since Mortel was one of the most notable promoters of heretical thought, the trial had to reveal weaknesses and strengths of their views. This was very important in the search for new arguments in the Jesuits' sermons. No doubt the scholar's abettors, though disguised as proper Catholics, must have been discovered, and now everybody tried to find out their names as quickly as possible, so as to prevent sore misunderstandings.
Petronius had enough impudence to ask about the Fontebi Valley. What had Mortel known about this valley? Where did the vitality of the degenerates come from? With obvious reluctance, the Master made some brief statements. What Mortel had said on this subject was too vague, because the process was near the end then, and his coherent speech mingled with deliriums. As far as it could be understood, he claimed that there was a certain ore or rock in the mountains above the Valley that was to blame for birth defects. It emitted radiation and that turned people into abominable monsters. The mountains are their strength. All one needs is to cut those demons off the mountains (plants that grow there, bear the symptoms of degenerations too) and they will be extinguished.
With a weary gesture of his hand the Master stopped those who desired to ask new questions. He was going to show what he had promised to show.
Meanwhile there was a clank of chains and the thhud of inert flesh onto the stone floor. A pair of soldiers, frowning, dragged out the body of the scholar, taken off the chains, to pass it to the relatives waiting for it.
The Jesuits went to the far side of the chamber, where they saw a huge oak barrel. Its staves, swarming with flies and crusted with mould, emitted a vague smell of peril. In the side of the barrel there was a tiny door. Elaborate copper decorations that held the sides of the barrel together implied it was made by Moors. In some places a plexus of obscure metal structures grew out of decorations, surrounding the device like a shroud of gloom.
Taken aback by the unusual sight, but preserving that pensive concentration characteristic of the priests, the monks made a circle at a respectful distance around the mysterious object.
"This barrel, which the Moors call 'the machine of tomorrow', was won back from the Saracens by the emperor Charles himself. It possessed a peculiar feature: when a person entered it and somebody from outside pressed these copper decorations, the person inside disappeared without a trace. It is not known what the Moors used to do with it, but in Charlemagne's palace this was the usual way to get rid of unwanted persons. Over the years of wars and ruin the barrel was lost. Only the old chronicles spoke of its existence. And recently it was found in Mortel's estate, together with other mysterious mechanisms.
"Because of one of our brothers' negligence (may Heaven forgive him!) this treasure nearly perished in a fire. Fortunately, some bright folk happened to be around, and they delivered it to my palace in a cart. True, instead of payment they were flogged, because on the way they peeled away the copper binding in some places. Even then I realised it must be a valuable thing. But it was Mortel who told me that this was the legendary 'machine of tomorrow'."
Long before he finished speaking, whispers of amazement swept through the crowd. Quite a few would gasp: "Oh my God! Oh, really?!" trying to show that they too had read about this devil's toy in the chronicles. Paying no attention to this, the Master went on.
"Mortel had carried out lots of experiments with this thing. There's no doubt he mastered the mechanisms of the machine perfectly. That is why our servants persecuted this heretic for years without success. The main point, however, is that with his devilish insight Mortel was able to figure out where does a person vanish after entering this machine.
"Time is the road by which this barrel travels. After a good deal of experimenting this heretic became convinced of that. A tobacco-box that he used to lose inside the barrel was unexpectedly found the next day, or next week. Or he would recall that about a month ago the tobacco-box had fallen straight on his head out of nowhere. As time went by, the sinner observed the dependency between pressing a corresponding decoration and an object being found tomorrow or yesterday. After many years of experiments Mortel was capable of sending an object far into the future or past. This way that poor sinful man forced Time to obey his will."
The whisper of excited monks reached its climax and turned into an uproar. Somebody asked why Mortel had not foreseen his own arrest in the future.
"Fortunately for us, the man was a coward and never dared to time-travel farther than one or two days. You see, the mechanism can be controlled only from outside, and it's not so comfortable to entrust your life to a servant, as the latter may in error press on the wrong spot.
"However, I did not call you in to tell you things that should be kept in the strictest confidence of the Church. I need a man. A man who would enter this machine."
The avalanche of sound abruptly quited. The dark vaults reverberated for a while with muted echo. The priests turned their eyes away, trying to hide their terror. The enthusiasm had died.
"What I thought of is neither much nor little. With this thing in our possession we can send a person to the unmeasurable past. To the time when the Kingdom of God, Eden, existed on Earth. Adam and Eve had sinned but we can prevent that from happening. We must warn them! Warn them not to touch the forbidden fruit!"
The Master's thundering voice disturbed the monks even more. Like a frightened flock of sheep, they restlessly stamped their feet. Then Eugenius pointed his finger at the middle of the crowd, his blood-shot eyes bulging, and he shouted:
"It's Father Petronius! He will save humankind from the deadly first sin!"
The crowd cackled with rejoicing and surrounded Petronius, who had suddenly turned pale. Everybody was happy that they were not the chosen ones. To refuse such a noble mission was out of the question, as it would lead straight to a bonfire. Petronius, though resisting indecisively and mumbling things without much sense, such as "give notice to my relatives" (though his relatives were gone long ago) was dragged toward the barrel. The Jesuit's fat body could hardly fit into the little door. Everybody took fright that somebody else, maybe he himself, might be appointed for a trip to Eden, so they kept pushing the unlucky man with all their might. Petronius wailed with pain and fear but was finally shoved into the barrel, its inside breathing with the darkness of hell. The Master's eyes shone with satisfaction as he watched this amusing episode. Then he ran to the barrel and gave a short sermon. His voice was nicely accompanied by the knocking noise in the machine.
"Mortel instructed me what to do and how", said Eugenius, and eagerly twisted one of the adornments on the barrel. His small, gnarled hands moved swiftly among obscure mechanisms. Suddenly an intense buzzing sound arose to terrify the company of the priests. Before his eye could blink the Master was flung into the wall a dozen yards away. Like a flattened fly, he stuck to the wall for a moment, then slowly slid down, leaving a trail of blood on the wall.
As if mesmerised, the monks stared at the wildly rotating barrel, its shimmering sides. A cloud of hot steam rose from the damp floor and enveloped the machine. Gradually the din died away and the barrel stopped spinning. When the most inquisitive ones cautiously opened the hot door, they cried out in awe there was no. Petronius was gone.
* * *
Space was suddenly torn; with a mad howl it let in a dark whirl of storm. The soft twinkling of stars became blurred and sank into clouds of greyish dust. A huge vortex of wild energy turned everything into dreadful confusion. A piercing dread of the unknown shattered the minds of the beings that dwelt nearby. It would take long for them to return to their primeval state of peaceful stability.
We too felt uneasy. Erein hastily cloaked herself with an impenetrable cloud of psychic energy and shrunk into herself. Apparently she thought she'd wait for the storm to pass. Silly, isn't she! The storm was nothing more than this single vortex that emerged from nobody knows where. I summoned up the energy I needed to suppress with my psychic radiation its unbridled rage. During each mental attack the whirl would lose part of its strength and would weaken gradually.
Unexpectedly I discovered a quivering lump of living matter in the centre of the vortex. Now I had to act more carefully because if the storm calmed down suddenly, the creature would fall to the ground from a great height. Therefore, with my strength strained to the maximum, I pressed the vortex down to the Earth's surface. A lot of energy was required for this and several times the whirlwind nearly escaped. The living being inside seemed to be intelligent: it emitted strong emotional radiation and had some budding willpower. At last I lowered the vortex down to the ground. With a pulse of concentrated will I rapidly annihilated the remains of the whirl. The streams of dispelled air took clouds of dry leaves away with them.
The creature lying on the ground raised a slight disgust within me. Thick black growth on its head and a flabby mask of flesh hid the bone cover of its brain. Dark loose clothes made it look silly. However, there was something, something about this being that made it seem close, acceptable... even attractive. I turned around and woke Erein up from her meditative nap. I was curious about what she would say.
With great effort Petronius lifted himself on his arms and took a look at the world he had found himself in. Then he lowered his head and vomited. After he finished, he glanced quickly at the two shapes that stood quietly in front of him. He uttered a scream and jumped on his feet. So miserable was the sound of his voice in this empty environment where was not a soul around. Green knobbly skin covered the bodies of both creatures. Between their firm fleshy legs, a thick lizard-like tail flapped in the grass. But their heads were even more terrible. Their shiny white skulls had neither skin nor muscles, nor hair. Their angry little black eyes were sunken deeply in their sockets, making the head bones look even more bare. Their horrible jaws were moving mechanically, probably chewing on something.
The being looked petrified. I stepped forward and spoke to it. Strangely enough it seemed to be surprised to understand what I was saying. How ignorant it must be, not to know the main things! Everybody knows and understands LANGUAGE, don't they? Well, at least he had a name. He, as he is a male, judging by his name: Petronius. An interesting consonance of letters and vibrations. The creature asked us our names. We pronounced them. We were taken aback by a sudden flare of creature's emotional radiation. He seemed to recognise us! But how?
Petronius opened his eyes wide, gave out a wail and fell on his knees. Adam and Eve? It's them? These monsters? Still he couldn't accept the fact that he understood the language of monsters, although he heard the words they pronounced for the first time. It was a very odd feeling to hear an unknown word and to perceive its meaning at once. Perhaps these monst... well, forefathers of humankind, spoke the mother of all languages which all beings instinctively understand? But what if he misunderstood something? They CAN'T be what they are! These monsters can't be Adam and Eve, because Adam and Eve can't be monsters.
We couldn't realise at once why he moaned in such a way. When I stooped above him to ask him about that, the creature jumped aside, horrified, looking timidly at my shiny fangs. Something was wrong. Too bad that every creature interprets LANGUAGE in its own way. This apparently depends on the configuration of its skull and its contents. Annoyed by his too intense emotional radiation I sent him a signal of peace and tenderness. This had an immediate effect on him. The being stopped tossing around and wailing. However, another thing started. The creature pointed at the trees hat grew nearby and tried to explain something to us.
Petronius calmed down at last. A realisation dawned upon him. He understood how these two monsters would give birth to mankind in the future. That was shown too clearly by the other example: the burning Fontebi Valley and its degenerating inhabitants. A while ago the details of surrounding scenery began to seem familiar to him. Only now, though, he recognised the Valley and the mountains around: it was Fontebi.
The invisible flood of rays ran through Eden. To become sure of this, he only had to look at the rich vegetation around; it had distinct symptoms of degeneration. Think about the chain of deformations and abnormalities that the descendants of monsters will undergo in this medium of terrible radiation! They have no other option but to marry their own sisters and daughters. He could only be glad that the first link in the chain of degenerations was not man...
Suddenly the Jesuit became uneasy. What if there are more monsters of this kind on earth? Then they won't undergo changes so severe that could cause them to develop into human beings over the time. The answer set his mind at ease. No, these two monsters were alone. However, they were waiting for somebody. Somebody was going to arrive. The monk closed his eyes trying to control his trepidation. He was trembling at the thought that the visitor might be the Lord himself. He should warn them quickly not to eat the forbidden fruit!
After his long explanation I understood what the creature wanted from us. He warned us not to eat some fruit. Crazy man! No matter how we tried, we couldn't convince him that we cannot interact with the environment of this planet in any way. Nor did he understand that our friends were to arrive very soon. They would help us depart this planet after we had been trapped here during the interstellar storm. Until that time we can't interact with the surroundings in any way; much less taste fruits that could have an unpredictable effect on our bodies. Evidently the creature didn't notice that all the time we were surrounded by psychotronic field that didn't permit even a molecule to get inside. I am worried about Erein, though. She is a silly, light-minded being.
His persuasions were to no avail. The monsters shook their skulls obstinately, unable to understand what Petronius was saying. What was he to do? Summoning his imagination, the monk tried to tell them about the horrors that people would have to endure after the burden of deadly sin fell upon them. This seemingly didn't excite the monsters' curiosity. However, one of them, who had been silent until now, asked him in a squeaky, unpleasant voice, if this fruit indeed had such a power that entire generations would suffer from its influence. The monk was quick to confirm and didn't forget to add that death would also find its way to people. Death? It was clear that monsters didn't have the concept of death. Why should they: they were the first people, weren't they?
* * *
Three days were left. Three days until God was to show Himself to Adam and Eve. Petronius was preparing thoroughly for the meeting. He washed and cleaned his old ragged robe. Of course, God might make his visit anytime; however, he seemed to stick to fixed dates for visiting the first people. At least Petronius thought so. In the small shabby hut that the demons helped him to build, the monk was making a cross to greet and glorify the Lord, upon His descent to Earth. The monsters didn't live in the hut. It seemed they didn't need anything of what humans needed. They slept in the open air and neither ate or drank. After closer examination Petronius determined that they didn't even breathe. Wild animals could do them no harm. Well, beasts didn't snuggle around them or purr like kittens, but Petronius himself saw a huge lion attacking the monsters and suddenly jumping back with a pitiful yelp.
Little by little Petronius got used to the thought that he was never to go back to Spain. But the Jesuit was worried about one thing. From what the demons had said, he got an impression that God was going to take them somewhere. In fact, they spoke about God in somewhat vague manner as if about a group of persons. However Petronius realised they meant God was the Trinity.
In the meantime Eve seemed to be convinced by the monk's arguments, and promised him never to eat the fatal fruit. She only inquired, just in case, which was that particular tree whose fruit was forbidden. The Jesuit was a bit confused. There were lots of apple trees around but God only knew which of them was the forbidden one. Petronius had no other option but to instruct her not to touch any apple-tree at all. The monster Eve went away, pleased. The monk, so happy about the victory he attained by his persuasions, didn't even think of why the monster who ate nothing needed to know the kind of forbidden fruit.
Erein's behaviour troubles me more and more. I'm glad that my friends are coming today. They will give us enough psychic energy to leave the planet. It seems Erein suffers from depression of eternity. This happens when one no longer can control oneself and yearns for rest. Alas! Our existence will last forever, or at least as long as this universe will exist. This is a heavy burden; no wonder that Erein desires to throw it down.
The strange creature was amazed by us in the beginning. How should I explain to him that we have no metabolism in our bodies? We are made of atoms that never change. It's their subtle structure that helps us remain unaffected by Time. Appearance of any new substance in our organisms would immediately destroy this fragile combination, and then... I don't even know what would happen to us.
As the afternoon drew on I felt our people coming. The environment itself could also feel the waves of energy they transmitted. The forest began to rustle and a strong wind arose.
The fast-moving clouds created amazing pictures in the early evening sky. With a naive fascination, the monsters stared upward. Among the dark ragged clouds a bright spot suddenly appeared and a wave of strong vibration shook the air. The Jesuit ran out of the hut, as he must have felt it too. The spot grew and expanded, until eventually it split into several figures shining with bright light. They were swiftly descending.
The astonished monk put his cross down. No, this wasn't God. With a painful moan Erein sank to the ground, but in the midst of confusion nobody noticed it. Radiance suffused everything around; a dozen or more lizard-men surrounded them in a broad ring. The resemblance between them and Adam and Eve was obvious at the first sight. So this was what the first people were waiting for!
The prospect of being left alone in the prehistoric world opened up before Petronius' eyes. He giggled in a low, hysterical voice and fell unconscious.
He came to his senses in the ringing silence. The wind had abated. Only the sorrowful cries of birds accompanied the mad yell of the lonely man. The door of the nearby hut suddenly opened and Adam came out. Even the eerie, passionless appearance could not hide the monster's menacing determination.
"Stop making noise", the monster said briefly and turned back.
"But... but what's happening? You didn't fly away with your friends? You didn't, did you?"
"Eve ate the fruit from your tree. She came into contact with the planet and the inner structure of her body has changed. Our own people couldn't take her with them, and I stayed here with her, too. Your prophecies came true, man."
Petronius lifted his hands up in adoration of the Lord, but his joyful psalms were rudely interrupted by Adam. "Be silent, man. Eve is moaning and her stomach is oddly swollen. I'm trying to cure her with psychic energy, but your songs disturb me. If you trouble me, I'll bite your head off!"
This was the first threat over the entire period of their communication. But Petronius, grinning, didn't mind it. The moaning in the hut seemed somehow familiar, much like the cries of a woman in labour. So humankind would not disappear after all! At this moment the monk shuddered, struck by an uneasy thought: In this story one character was missing, the grass-serpent!