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Now the Parents had told us of one Chamber of Suffering near Atalantaya, but they had not told us that these chambers existed all over.
I noted all this with great suspicion, and I could tell by the expressions on the faces of Welf and Garekyn and Derek that they also thought this was intriguing, to say the least. We inquired more about all this, and the explanations came back the same: a Chamber of Suffering helps people to weep here, to have a place for weeping; it helps people to weep in groups; it helps people to bare their suffering hearts. But now and then there was the hint that the Maker was especially pleased with these places and those who sought them out. Of course the Maker could hear cries uttered everywhere, but the Maker especially favored those who took the time to come to the Chambers of Suffering, and some had guardians who helped sufferers come in and go out, and others had guardians who guided singing that went on with the weeping and grieving. Those who came often to the Chambers of Suffering were the people most likely to see the intervention of the Maker in their lives.
What did this mean? Could the Parents see into all of these chambers? We were not certain that we had seen inside these chambers when we were on Bravenna, because we had seen so much suffering in the film streams that we had not noticed anything that might have involved special gatherings here. Did the Parents intervene in the lives of the suffering people who came to these chambers? I couldn't imagine it.
I asked about the Maker. I asked what he or she might do. And when I did I made people uneasy.
Gradually, I inferred from all this that it was not permitted to say as fact that the Maker would intervene, or to claim that the Maker had. What was accepted was faith that the Maker might. And that the Maker appreciated the sufferings of those on Earth. I was even told once that "not a tear was wasted."
As for the guardians of these Chambers of Suffering, there seemed no overall network. In some places there were strong guardians of the Chambers of Suffering, and in others only one or two old guides. And in some places, the chambers had fallen into positive neglect.
I felt more and more uneasy about the chambers, because no one had called our attention to them on Bravenna.
I often studied the way the chambers were constructed, and how the pyramids were constructed, but I could come to no conclusion. Indeed, I didn't see any evidence anywhere of the transmitting stations that were sending streams to Bravenna, and I learned early on that no one seemed to know anything about such stations.
This didn't make very much sense. But then the whole question of the transmissions didn't make sense. How had we, on Bravenna, been able to see into people's huts or houses, or caves? How had we been able to hear and see people coupling in the privacy of their beds?
I stored all I saw in my memory. I had no other way to store it. No one in this wide world was writing things down. I had seen no writing on Bravenna. I didn't even think of "writing" or what it had to involve.
Another thing fascinated me: people, far and wide, visited Atalantaya any number of times during their lives. Some visited regularly. They traded with Atalantaya, and indeed they had begun to use a coinage from Atalantaya as well. The representatives of Atalantaya were everywhere teaching people things such as how to graft branches from one fruit tree to another and how to construct small and easily managed looms.
Over and over, people told us we'd be welcomed in Atalantaya--that anyone with our knowledge of brewing healthful tonics and teas, of using plants to heal injuries, and reduce fever--would find a ready audience in the representatives of Atalantaya on the coast.
Nowhere did I encounter anybody who felt shut out of Atalantaya, or who had been rejected for a visit to the city, or who blamed Atalantaya for any circumstance in his or her life.
Now understand we were seeing many kinds of people, simple people, more complex and vocal people, people with the ambition to make pots and fabrics, and others who seemed content to rock their babies in their arms and sing to them, or dance around evening fires.
But none of them spoke of exploitation by Atalantaya. Indeed, some blushed when they told us that they just weren't strong enough to live in Atalantaya, but they had enjoyed the "festivals" there very much. Others said they couldn't live in those tall towers, and others that it was too crowded and others that it was too noisy. But no one, no one complained of being used by Atalantaya or excluded from it.
And this contradicted, directly contradicted, things which the Parents had said.
In sum, I loved this Wilderness world. We all did.
It was a great experience, our journey to Atalantaya, and when at last we did present ourselves in the coastal community nearest the great city, we were welcomed and approved for passage across the water a
lmost at once. We scarcely needed to utter our "cover story."
All around us were happy people excited to be going to Atalantaya, many for the first time, and the officials in charge seemed excited for us as well. It was rather like being in a group today that is visiting the cities of Jerusalem or Rome for the first time.
After we walked through a great hollow tube of metal and stepped into the crowded white ferryboat, we gazed in wonder at the immense city rising before us, and felt not fear of Amel so much as desperate curiosity for more surprises, more revelations, more sheer pleasure, and more knowledge of the marvels of Earth. Hundreds upon hundreds of small fishing boats were on the sea around us, and other boats carrying various supplies to Atalantaya. It was a lovely spectacle, as these boats had small sails of individual colors and they were sprinkled as far as the eye could see. And before us Atalantaya became so immense as to seem like something beyond belief--that anyone or any group of beings could have built such a habitation.
IV
The ferry appeared to fly across the water, and burrow into the very foundation of the city, entering a lock and coming to a stop at a station where other ferries were also docking, and people were streaming out of them and through gateways to stairways that led to the surface.
The officials who were stopping and questioning many only took one look at us and waved us through.
The sidewalks and the stairways moved under our feet, in ways that would surprise no one in the twentieth century but absolutely confounded us.
Within minutes we were in a huge spacious loggia with translucent walls where officials questioned us briefly as to whether we had gold to sustain us in Atalantaya (we did) and whether we would need shelter (we would) and then waved us on to a welcoming agent who told us we would find places of shelter all up and down the walkway before us, to our right and our left.
As we emerged from the loggia, we found ourselves in the very midst of the metropolis on a shining pathway bordered by enormous fruit trees and banked with vibrant flowers, winding its way amid the myriad towers, with doorways open to the walkway on either side from shops and hostelries and other "businesses" for which we had no name. In truth we had no name for most of what we beheld. But it would be no surprise to anyone returned to this moment in a Time Machine from a time such as this. Shops sold jewelry, clothing, communication devices, strange gadgets, sandals, shoes, bags for carrying things, and a multitude of other "goods" such as we had never beheld.
Above us the towers rose higher than any tree in existence on Earth as far as we knew.
But it was the people, the people of Atalantaya, who astonished us, dressed as they were in shimmering garments, mostly of pale pastel colors, and decked all over with gold and silver jewelry, many with pendants of precious or what we call now semiprecious stones.
Young and old, they seemed more spry and healthier than the people of the Wilderness. Some painted their faces in exquisite ways, not like the savages of the Wilderness but in a more subtle manner to enhance their features.
