The Chronicles of Jonathon Postlethwaite: The Seed of Corruption by David S Denny Page B

Jonathon had had any doubts about his self-imposed oaths against the city and Flax, his exploration of the Dubh over the  past  years  had pushed him far beyond the threshold  of  that  doubt and  reinforced  his  beliefs in his own moral codes.
    He would find a way to destroy it all, he knew that the creators of this realm would now how to undo it. His answers lay with the Tallmen.
                                Jonathon made his way up onto the huge domes of the Halls of Machines. The very roofs here vibrated in harmony with the  rumbling  symphony  of  the  multitude of  engines  below  and  from  where   Jonathon   stood the brightly lit towers were clearly  visible,  blazing beacons in the manufactured twilight, gigantic needles blazing with energy, illuminating the great  paved expanse   that   surrounded them.
                                The area between the Halls and the Towers had been cleared and paved to create a killing zone, to provide the Tallmen with a clear view of who came and went from their domain. Jonathon studied the area with great interest from the edge of the domes, it was brighter than day out there and any movement could be detected with ease and the giant pavement stretched as far as  he could see in both directions.
                                Despite his knowledge of the lore of the Whisperers and the phenomenal athleticism now built into his physique, the distance was far beyond his abilities. Each paved slab below him was the height of a man square and he counted fifty slabs between the domes and the nearest sentry tower.
                                He sighed in dismay, he could never cross that killing zone and survive. Apart from blindly running across the floodlit area, he could see no way that he could cross it undetected. He knew that unseen eyes surveyed the area. He felt the gaze of many tall beings directed down from their posts at the top of their towers.
                                The Tallmen were wary of what they had accidentally created around them and waited and watched for violations of their security. Jonathon could feel their presence, cold calculating and unnerving minds of great age   and   wisdom,   unlike   any   beings   he    had ever   encountered in Dubh before.
    Jonathon let his mind drift towards one of these minds who studied the domes from a tower high to his left. He made what he thought was a discreet contact and thoughts and emotions from the Tallman filled his own mind.
                                He realised that this Tallman was far from happy. He was angry, frustrated at his predicament. He disliked his own race and was disgusted by the corruption in the human city beyond his towers. The Tallman hated himself for allowing himself to get into the predicament he was in. He felt caged and trapped like an animal, with no solution evident to him. He was more though, he was hiding something and feared discovery.  Jonathon  was intrigued and probed his mind deeper.
                                Abruptly the subject's mind recoiled in shock. He had felt Jonathon's presence. Quickly the Tallman recovered and he swept his own mind outwards following Jonathon's probe, attempting to ensnare him. Words filtered weakly into Jonathon's mind, strange words he could not understand, an alien language that was full of fear and excitement. Slowly the Tallman gained control of the transmission and the words changed to the language Jonathon understood, yet still he could feel that the Tallman was disturbed by Jonathon's presence.
                                The Tallman was a minor telepath, but Jonathon could have  escaped  him  easily.  Slowly,  and  a  little reluctantly,  Jonathon  began  to  break  the