Phoenix Prime by White Ted

Author:White, Ted [White, Ted]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2011-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

One part of the city had withstood the passage of time better than the rest. This was the part along the river’s edge.

Here the buildings still stood. They were not the towers he had found to the southwest, but low, long buildings, set upon terraces and served by curving streets. Max left the main road to climb one side street.

The street was narrower, and Max had to keep to the center, for the bushes and creepers had narrowed it still further. Many of the plants bore flowers, and Max wondered if they had once been part of the gardens which now overflowed the terraces. This had all the appearances of a once-prized residential part of the city.

He climbed, the wolf still close by, darting here and there to sniff at what Max assumed were animal runs, until he had reached the level of one of the terraces.

From here he could look down on the lower-lying parts of the city and see the still-clear pattern of the streets. There was a squared grid, and over it had been super-imposed another, at a forty-five-degree angle. Where both grids intersected there were circles and what must once have been parks.

In the other direction… The nearby river sparkled clearly in the sunlight. It was a broad, quiet river. Not far downstream it was joined by the other river; the city was located a little above their juncture. The land between the rivers was low-lying, and rich with verdant greens. And—was that a drift of smoke, rising from beyond that woods? Max strained his eyes, but could not be sure. The air here was thicker and hazier than it had been in the desert. Max suspected the desert had also been higher. It had struck him as he descended from the mountains that the way down had been longer by a good deal than the way up.

Max turned to look at the house on the terrace. It was two-storied, and gave the appearance of being split-leveled. Its sides were thickly covered with ivy and creeper.

The door was wide and low, the doorway sunken in the thick stone of the walls. This stone did not appear artificial, either; there were closely fitted blocks which, as near as he could tell, held no mortar in their joints. Yet the joints were tight enough so that none of the plants crawling upon the wall’s surface had found entry through them.

Inside, all was a shambles. Dead leaves filled the corners of rooms, and some showed evidence of being long-unused nests.

There was wood here, but fortunately used only for what must have been ornamental purposes, for it was rotted and decayed. Max leaned against a doorjamb, and it disintegrated into a fine yellow dust which made him sneeze.

The house smelled musty, and Max wondered what he could find here, but he poked through its rooms none the less.

The rooms were far from bare, but their contents had not withstood time well; they were now littered with what could only be called junk.

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