Prose Header


Lunari

by Tala Bar


Chapter 1: The Flight

part 2 of 2


Still, Ben’s problem seemed easier to solve than Mira’s. The poet and artist, not a very stable person at the best of times, was showing even more signs of disturbance than before. Lilit had added the young woman to the group of potential settlers, thinking they needed not only useful, skilled and professional people but also those who could grant the new colony some spiritual qualities. But perhaps, she was thinking, Mira was not exactly settler material after all.

That was when Lilit, passing by the computer terminal in the common room, noticed the letters flashing on the monitor. “Lilit, beware!”

Beware? Of what? The words seemed directed at her, but from whom? Who was on board who could send such a warning message, and to what could she refer it? It was, of course, Mira on her mind, and without bothering with the identity of the sender, she thought it was quite apt at the moment.

She used her telepathic ability to search for Mira throughout the ship and found her at one of the viewing windows, at the end of a long corridor. The young poet’s eyes were glued to the sight outside, and Lilit was wondering what had attracted her attention. She thought Mira hated the dark void outside, and that she badly missed the lively, colorful sights of Earth and Earth’s sky, which had always served as inspiration for her work.

The view outside the window stretched to infinity, with nothing stopping it or blocking it, nothing to show any definite structure to make sense of the world, as they used to view it on Earth.

“You should have sent Leshem,” Mira said bitterly without turning, as if aware of Lilit’s approach; Mira’s telepathic ability was sometimes heightened when she was under stress. “She would hug me and entice me into bed, using sex to make me forget Lee. But I can’t forget! And that man you have taken into our bosom... How could you!”

“You’re right, Mira, sex wouldn’t do this time, that is why I came myself rather than send Leshem. Please, let’s sit down comfortably and talk.”

There were a couple of chairs at the viewing window, where the narrow corridor opened up to a little recess. As she sat down, half-facing the window, Lilit looked around her. “What is this place?” she asked, “how’ve you found it?”

“I like to roam the ship,” Mira answered as she sat on the other chair, half facing both Lilit and the window. “I don’t have much to do here, when everyone else is so busy, acting as crew...”

It was clear to Lilit that Mira had not been fooled by her job as diary keeper for the group on board; she was not as good a writer of prose as she was of poetry, and everyday life had never been her interest.

“How is the diary writing getting on?” Lilit asked just the same, trying not to read her companion’s thoughts. It was not easy, both being telepaths, but they had never conversed in their mind, and she was not going to start that now, especially as Mira was not trained for it.

“It doesn’t take much time...”

“What about painting, or writing poetry? You can always use one of the monitors in the common room.”

Mira shrugged. “That’s one of the things... I have no source of inspiration in this barren place. I miss the whole of Earth’s scenery, not only the sky.” She raised her eyes to look at Lilit for a moment, and the woman cringed at the pain flooding her tortured soul. Mira turned her full gaze to look outside the window.

“What is it?” Lilit asked, “What do you see out there?” She sensed the blackness in the young woman’s mind and was momentarily taken aback.

“I see things through that window...“

“What things?”

“Strange things, out there, in the void; they want to come on board ship, but they can’t, unless I let them...”

“Mira! What are you talking about?”

“I can’t take it! I can’t take it any more! I am going to kill myself!”

“Don’t talk nonsense! Stop it! I won’t let you! Now, sit down and calm yourself!” Lilit was agitated now, in complete contrast to her usual stable emotions. This was not good at all, she felt, and she was getting nowhere with that disturbed woman.

Mira fell silent, then, as if getting in touch with some forces that were beyond Lilit’s grasp. The old woman looked at her closely, noticing for the first time the dark circles around her beautiful turquoise eyes. The girl had not been sleeping, Lilit realized. Of course, with three bedrooms, it was hard to keep track of anyone’s movements, and she did not think it was really necessary...

She concentrated now in her own mind, trying to grasp the strange powers that seemed to prevail in that hidden part of the ship. She was seeing both into the disturbance of the other woman’s mind, as well as its outer expression.

Mira moved uncomfortably in her chair, waving her arms here and there, her head turning from side to side. “No,” she whispered suddenly, “I don’t...” The sentence was interrupted, hanging in the air.

Lilit came out of her absorbance, touching the poet on her shoulder, “Mira,” she said, softly.

The poet twitched and opened her eyes. “They’re coming again,” she whispered, blinking in a rapid movement as if trying to remove something from her eyes.

“Who’s coming?” Lilit demanded, trying to keep her commonsense attitude.

Mira sat up and looked hard at her companion. “You should know, you are a telepath!”

“Show me, then.”

Suddenly, the little area at the end of the corridor filled with strange, moving forms. They were transparent, ghost-like, and they danced around and between the two women sitting on their chairs.

“What is it?” Lilit cried out, unusually agitated. “What are these things? Where have they come from?” She was holding herself fast against any intimidation.

“But you must know,” Mira said in a strange, quivering voice. “They come from the stars, from the galaxies out there...” She turned her eyes outside again. “They are the spirits of all these galaxies, the ghosts of their essence... I am afraid of them, I fear they are going to get me. I can’t get rid of them, all these ghostly poets... They are out to get me, to make me one of them!”

“But you’re not a ghostly poet!” Lilit cried out. “You are very much alive and you’re not going to die, I tell you! You must snap out of it, come back to us, your live companions. Forget about the ghosts, you hear me!”

Mira, though, did not hear her. Instead of an answer she emitted a harsh sound of an unusual laughter. She rose from her seat and was dancing among those ghostly apparitions Lilit could not get away from. They were both absorbed in an overwhelming mental fantasy.

* * *

At last, Lilit shook herself, recovered and touched her communicator. “Leshem, would you come over?” She indicated their position, then sat back and watched the dancing woman and the imaginary figures around her.

It took the physicist some time to appear. “I am rather busy,” she said, “there is an unexplained surge of power indicated on the monitors, and I can’t find its source. Very strange.”

“This may be it,” Lilit pointed.

Leshem looked at Mira and back at the old woman. “What are you talking about? And what is she doing, dancing like that?”

“She’s having a vision, but you can’t see it, can you?”

“Mira’s vision? How can I? There’s nothing there!” Leshem would not, of course, think Lilit was going out of her mind; the poet, perhaps, but not the old sage. Still...

“There are ghostly figures dancing with Mira,” Lilit said, matter-of-factly, “but I don’t actually expect you to see them.”

“You’re not joking, are you?” Of course, she did not think Lilit would be joking...

“They are the products of her mind, that’s why you can’t see them. You are too earthly and practical for that,” the old woman affirmed.

“And you can? What’s going on, Lilit?” Leshem was unhappy with what was going on, but she did not want to hurt her old friend’s feelings.

There was no other chair in the area, so Lilit moved a little to make room for Leshem. “Come, sit for a minute with me. I’m afraid Mira is rather disturbed, and I am not sure how I can help her.

“The fact that I can see what she is imagining only strengthens the phenomenon rather than helps to get rid of it. It’s as if its force is enhanced by my own mind, against my own will. But you, being the materialist that you are, you may be able to help...”

She looked searchingly at the younger woman, as if examining her intentions. “You see, your very practical attitude may help Mira to quiet the power of her imagination; but it cannot be through any physical closeness. Do you get me?”

Leshem considered for a moment. “I think I see what you mean. You don’t want me to touch her, because she is rather touchy at the moment, if you excuse the pun. You want me to talk sense into her, show her the difference between what’s inside her mind and what’s outside in the real world.”

“That’s exactly it, and I know you are best for the job. I’ll leave you with her now.”

“Don’t you think it could be rather difficult, with me not being able to see the... whatever is there?”

“On the contrary. She would believe you rather than me that the things do not actually exist, especially as I can see them as clearly as she does.”

She was gone, then, in her usual way of vanishing so easily, without giving Leshem another chance for questioning.

* * *

In a disconnected way, Leshem felt happy there was no computer terminal at that corner, to prod her into unwanted reflections. She sat more comfortably in the chair, and for a long moment looked at the dancing Mira.

It was rather a pretty sight, though it was also grotesque in its disconnected appearance. The poet’s eyes were closed and her face pinched, showing her inner battle that denied the outside world. It was clear to Leshem that she had not noticed the exchange between Lilit and herself.

At last she rose and in careful paces approached the dancer. “Mira,” she said, touching the girl slightly on her shoulder. Her voice was neutral, devoid as much as she could of its usual thick warmth.

Mira’s movements slowed a little and her eyelids fluttered but did no open.

“Can I talk to you, Mira?”

“What’re you doing here, Leshem? Where’s Lilit? She helped me make the ghosts concrete, and now she’s gone. She always does that, goes away exactly when she’s needed most. It’s only me and my friends, now and you don’t belong, Leshem. Go away!”

“I thought you were afraid of them.”

“I am afraid,” her voice fluttered. “I like being afraid... I like it when I feel something; it makes me come to life... I’ve been feeling so dead here, on this ship, with no sun or moon, no hills or flowers... These ghosts make me live again, living my fears, at least. So, go away and leave me alone with them, those beautiful fearful non-living beings...”

She started singing, in a thin, hoarse, whispery tone and resumed her dancing; for one moment even earthly Leshem felt as if the poet was joining some invisible beings in their dance. Mira stretched her arms toward them, linking hands, going round and round, a dark, ethereal figure that, through her dancing, could almost make real those bright, starry, ghosts... For the first time in her life Leshem was stunned, struck dumb with no power to act...

The young woman stopped suddenly, lifting her hand as if wanting to make an announcement.

“Come, my lovelies, let’s go over the ship. Let’s frighten the others. Let’s be alive and control this dead ship, show everyone what a poet can do...”

Before Leshem could be roused from her numbness, Mira swiftly passed by her into the corridor; by the time Leshem came after her, she could only see the edge of Mira’s shiny garment. The scientist pushed herself to a surprising speed, motivated by some inner urge.

She soon shortened the distance between her and Mira, but was afraid to awaken the girl suddenly, so she just followed her along. The two women passed through various passages and by a couple of rooms, advancing toward the maintenance section of the ship.

Leshem felt Mira was going in the direction of the ship’s most physical essence, trying to assert her mental power over the physical existence that had assured her own living on board ship. The two, in the accompaniment of the invisible spirits, passed one or two people on their way; these stopped, stunned, wondering at the strange behavior of two women running one after the other. Leshem motioned them to stay where they were and not try to stop Mira in her frenzy.

Soon they got close to the garden and the recycling facilities, and Leshem shuddered to think what would happen when they were actually there.

Mira entered the enclosure in a momentum of astonishing violence. She rushed forward, throwing herself at the closed doors barely avoiding being hit by their recoil, screaming, “Hit them! Hit at them! Kill them! Kill them!”

In a moment of clarity, having stopped at the entrance, Leshem stared at Nan and Ben standing together, talking as if nothing was happening around them; at the same time not far from them, just behind the door, the scientist saw on the terminal monitor words flashing in many colors saying, “Warning! Warning! Nan, it’s up to you!”

Without thinking, Leshem sprinted at Mira, not even wondering at her own ability to move so fast at her age. She seemed to have hit some obstacles, into which she crushed, and the next moment her mind went blank, darkness covered her eyes and she knew nothing more...


To be continued...


Copyright © 2009 by Tala Bar

Home Page