Boneland. Part 9

'Where's the telescope?' said Meg.

'Look up.'

'Heligoland, Dogger and Forties.'

They were at the central spot. Above them, tilted to follow Ethel, the telescope filled the sky.

'Listen,' said Colin.

Around them the wind played the harp of the structure. As the telescope moved on its track with the Earth's turn, the changes of stress made their symphony from the flexing of the metal.

'Good, isn't it?'

'Colin, this is one of the most moments,' said Meg.

'"Rustbucket sc.r.a.p and a bit of old wire."'

'Hoh yes,' said Meg. 'Thank you. You don't know how much. I'm beginning to see.'

'My pleasure,' said Colin.

He went to the security fence and unlocked the gate.

'And here are the dishes.'

'Wait on,' said Meg. 'I've got to adjust.' She looked back at the telescope. 'OK. What's next?'

The parabolic dishes were nothing after the sky.

'This is where she spoke,' said Colin. 'I'm afraid I'm wobbly.'

'Let's sit down,' said Meg. She breathed out. And in. 'Right. And you understand and can handle all that up there: what it is, what it means, what it implies?'

'More or less,' said Colin. 'As well as any.'

'But not these tins.'

'Everything's relative. What do you make of them?'

'Shall we find out?'

They went to a dish. 'You understand the principle?' said Colin.

'Near enough. Do I go to the other end?'

'Keep your voice low,' said Colin. 'Whisper. And stay at the focus.'

Meg went.

'Hi, Colin. How's that?'

'Spot on.'

'Weird, isn't it?'

'And if someone stood in the acoustic line between they'd hear both of us, but the sound would have no direction,' said Colin.

'Would it internalise?' said Meg 'More ambient, though unnatural in s.p.a.ce.'

'Like another dimension?'

'I suppose it would be.'

'What are you going to do with the dishes you're making?'

'Play around with them. Listen.'

'Listen to what?'

'Whatever the dishes may reflect.'

'Whatever?'

'Yes. That's the way to do it.'

'h.e.l.lo, Col.'

'It's not funny, Meg.'

'What isn't?'

'Stop it.'

'Stop what?'

'She can't hear me, Col.'

'Is it you? Is it?'

'Of course.'

'Please. Stay.'

'I'm not going anywhere. Don't turn round. You know what happens when men look back.'

'The years. The searching.'

'Colin. This is Meg. Are you all right?'

'Go away, Meg.'

'I'm still here, Col. She'll try to be rid of me. She wants me gone. But she'll have no luck. Don't you know who she is? Don't you remember?'

'What? Remember what?'

'It's her, Col. She's come to get you. This time.'

'No.'

'Yes. But I'll stop her.'

'Where are you?'

'With you, Col. I'm always with you.'

'Where? Why can't I see you?'

'Ah.'

'I must see you.'

'Why?'

'You're my pearl.'

'Yes, I'm your pearl.'

'My pearl to a white pea.'

'That's a funny thing to say.'

'But you are. Let me across.'

'Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I'm telling you. Now.'

'She's hurting, Col. She's hurting me. It hurts. Don't let her. It hurts. Don't look. It hurts. Col. The others. They're coming.'

His head was blistered in noise, swamped by calling, around him, in him. He fell into the sound of cranes.

Colin hit the asphalt at the bottom of the steps and lay. He looked back. Meg was at the other dish, turned towards him. She came down and stood over him.

'You're only winded.'

He grabbed for air.

'Now what was all that about?' said Meg.

'I've found her. She spoke.'

'I bet she did. Let's check, then. Sailor's grip.' Meg gave a lift to Colin and he pulled himself up to sit on a step. Meg sat by him, holding a recorder. She pressed the playback.

'What are you going to do with the dishes you're making? Play around with them. Listen. Listen to what? Whatever the dishes may reflect. Whatever? Yes. That's the way to do it. It's not funny, Meg. What isn't? Stop it. Stop what? Is it you? Is it? Please. Stay. The years. The searching. Colin. This is Meg. Are you all right? Go away, Meg. What? Remember what? No. Where are you? Where? Why can't I see you? I must see you. You're my pearl. My pearl to a white pea. But you are. Let me across. Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I'm telling you. Now.'

'That's all.' Meg switched off.

Colin put his hand out and she took it.

'Oh, my G.o.d.'

Meg was silent.

'My G.o.d.'

His grip crushed, but she did not flinch.

'I am mad. I am mad. Aren't I?'

'You are not mad,' she said. 'Yet.'

'I heard her.'

'Of course you heard her. What did she say?'

'She's with me. Always. Always will be. She doesn't like you. Says you've come to get me. She'll stop you. What am I going to do?'

'Don't panic. You'll live. But you're not fit to be on a bike. Sit quiet. We'll see you home.'

He held Meg's hand; she looked at the telescope. It tracked the quasar, and the wind played.

'Come up, love.'

He walked with her; he still held; out past the car park. There was a car waiting.

'Now then, our Colin,' said Bert. 'Are you all right? Let's be having you.'

Then he came to the age where he could not run. Pain sat in his knee, so that he stumbled, and in his arm, so that his spear did not hit. Pain sat in his back, so that he could not lift the kill and fetch it home, nor bring wood from far, so that his fire was small. He preyed upon the weak and gained no strength. He took the deer big-bellied, ripped out the fawn, leaving the hind to crows. Wolf and raven followed him. He took the farrow and fled the sow; until there was only fox to hunt. He ate nothing that drew its spirit from the cave, and his own spirit dwindled unfed. He set traps for hare.

He knew how this had been before, and the old man had fetched meat that had no song. But the old man had taught him to hunt and kill, so that he came to know the way of the beasts, and after he had taken the old man to the nooks of the dead he had stayed. The old man had taught him to free the spirits from the rock, to dance and sing and dream. Now there was no one to be taught. And no woman came.

'I found my love in the month of June.

Risselty-rosselty, now, now, now.

I carried her home in a silver spoon.

Risselty-rosselty, hey bombossity, Knickerty-knackerty, Now, now, now.'

At the quarry, Colin adjusted his dishes on their mountings.