lessened, though it was still quite hot. A few buildings were set along the tracks, like those in the towns, built from wood and in as poor condition. It wasn’t until he felt the train slowing that he saw the first brick structure. And even that was decaying – large hunks missing from the façade and there were holes in the red-tiled roof.
The screeching of steel sent his pulse quickening. This was it. Outside, a gray stone wall blocked his view. A few scattered people were standing outside on a platform, some in soldier’s uniforms, others in attire much like those on the train, only a bit cleaner and less worn.
Once the train had stopped, the passengers remained seated for nearly five minutes. A blast from a horn then prompted everyone to their feet and moving to the exit. Outside, the platform continued beyond the engine, the wall ending at a two-story building with three broad doorways, each guarded by two soldiers.
Drake followed the crowd to the building ,where the guards began stopping each person and asking them for their papers. His heart froze. Behind him was desert; in front the Bomar capital. So he would either make it in or be caught. There was no chance he could survive the crossing on foot with what little water he had left.
When he reached the soldiers, he pretended to look through his pockets. “I think I lost them,” he said, a hint of panic in his voice.
The soldier frowned, his hand drifting to a pistol at his side. “You’d better find them.” Several disgruntled voices called for him to hurry.
He considered making a run for it, when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.
“Did you forget your papers again?” It was the old woman from the train. She smiled over to the soldier. “This is my son. He’s just seeing me home.” She gave Drake a scolding shake of the head. “I told you not to forget your travel papers.”
“I’m sorry, mother,” said Drake, half stunned.
She handed hers to the soldier. “Can’t you just let him through? It’s a long way to Parimar.” The soldier looked at Drake then the old woman. After a tense pause, he heaved a breath.
“Fine. Go on through. But next time, you’ll spend the night in a cell.” Drake lowered his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
The old woman held out her arm for Drake. “Thank you, officer. You’re very kind.”
Drake took her arm, and they passed through the door. Beyond was a large open gallery filled with at least a hundred people. Long rows of benches ran along the walls and two more sat back to back down the center. At the far end was an archway where still more soldiers were standing guard, though none were stopping passersby.
“Thank you,” he said to the woman.
“It’s the least I could do after what you did for me,” she replied. “Would you mind if I asked why is it you don’t have your papers?”
Drake affected an embarrassed smile. “I lost them.”
The woman shook her head. “Careless. You know how they are about things like that.” “Yes. Lucky for me you were there.”
They continued until they were beyond the archway, where an expansive open square lay before them. On all sides stood rows of gray brick buildings, mostly two and three stories, with round windows and flat roofs, colorless and drab even compared to the provinces. Off to his right he was startled to see a strange animal pulling a wagon. It looked like a cow, though sleeker in the body and without horns, with a long snout and ears. As he continued to examine his new surroundings, he spotted several more, each of varying colors – some brown, others gray like the buildings, and a few splashed with a random black and white pattern.
“Where do you live?” asked the woman.
“I…I was hoping to find a room for the night.”
She gave him a curious look. “A room? How much money do you have?”
Drake retrieved the coins from his pocket. From what he was able to puzzle out, he didn’t have much. “This is everything.”
With the tip of her finger, she pushed the coins around Drake’s palm, then plucked out one of the copper ones. “That will do.” She dropped the coin in her bag. “What’s your name?”
“Drake.”
“Well then, Drake, I’m Hanna. And if you don’t mind running a few errands for an old woman, you can sleep in the spare room. At least until you get your feet under you again.”
“Are you serious?”
Hanna chuckled. “Not usually. But I am this time. I’m a good judge of character. You seem like a nice young man. Malizar has too few of them these days.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.” She gave him a wink. “Now come on. It’s a long ride to my apartment.”
They crossed to the right side of the square to where a line of three wagons stood waiting. These were different, with cushioned seats in the back. Hanna handed the driver of the lead wagon a coin.
“Fifteen twenty-one Polin, North Parimar,” she instructed. The driver nodded curtly.
Drake took her bag and helped her in, then hopped up beside her. The driver glanced back, clicked his tongue, and snapped the leather straps affixed to the rigging which held the animal.
The wagon jerked forward at a decent pace, and soon they were around the next corner and on their way to…well, he had no idea.
Drake kept his eyes on his surroundings, trying to keep a mental note of where they were going. The buildings were mostly of similar design, though a few blocks further down some had square windows, which appeared to be older, judging by the condition. The streets were paved with flat brown stones, and the promenade was not nearly as crowded as he would have expected, given that this was the Bomar capital.
“So what do you do?” asked Hanna.
“A tinker,” Drake blurted out, before he could think. Stupid! He didn’t even know what that was.
“No wonder you seem out of place. All that wandering around, fixing things. No time to put down roots.” She glanced to his belt. “Of course, I never heard of a tinker carrying a gun.”
Drake could see that the pistol had shifted so that the handle was visible, and pushed it back again. “You never know when you’ll need it.”
“You sound like my son,” she said. “You’d think monsters lived in every shadow, the way he’d go on.”
Drake caught a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “Where is he now?” “He passed away a year ago,” she replied, somberly.
“I’m sorry.”
Hanna forced a smile. “It’s fine. A stupid accident. Smart boy, my Ian. Worked in the power station. Thanks to him, soon all of Malizar will have lights.”
“I’m sure you’re very proud.”
“I was. You know, maybe you should go see if they need people.” This last statement was made as if in an attempt to banish her sorrow.
“I wouldn’t know what I could do there.”
“If you’re a tinker, I’m sure you could find a position. From what my son told me, bright minds are desperately needed.”
“I’ll look into it.”
After a few minutes the air began to reek with an odor that reminded Drake of burning tar. Hanna crinkled her nose. “I wish they’d do something about that.”
“What is it?”
She eyed him curiously. “The power plant, of course. How long have you been away?” “A while.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. My apartment has lights. It’s not just the Imperium anymore.”
Drake nodded as if impressed. Lights? Carts pulled by animals? Was this really life without mana? And the smell…he’d once thought the provinces were putrid. They were a garden by comparison.
After a few more blocks, the odor lessened to a tolerable level. Drake looked up. Rather than clouds or the blue of a clear sky, it was as if a thin gray mist hovered over the city. He was beginning to understand why the Bomar were pressing outward. A sick people living in a sick land. Yet another thing they had in common with Vale.
The wagon stopped in front of a three-story building at the corner of an intersection, with the nu
mber 1521 above the door.
Hanna thanked the driver, and Drake helped her down. Grabbing his pack and her bag, he followed her to the threshold.
“My nephew could be here,” she said. “He might come off as a bit rude. But he’s actually a sweet boy.”
Inside was a small lobby with a staircase and a hallway off to the right. Hanna led them to the second door and fished out a key from her bag. But as she was turning the lock, the door opened. A young man, Drake thought no more than twenty, was standing there, clad in a long white shirt and a pair of short black pants. He had shaggy blond hair, green eyes, and was of medium build. When he saw Hanna, he immediately embraced her.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” he said. He stepped back and looked over to Drake. “Who’s
this?”
“Gymal, this is Drake, my new lodger. Drake, this is my nephew I was telling you about.
He works at the Imperium.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Drake.
Gymal ignored him completely. “Lodger? Since when do you take in lodgers?”
“Since I decided to. Now don’t be an ass. It’s been a long trip, and I want to sit down.” Gymal gave Drake a look of clear suspicion, but he stepped away to allow them to pass.
Drake found himself in a small yet comfortable-looking living room. A sofa and two chairs were set off to the left, with a bookcase and cabinet placed opposite. A few paintings decorated the wall, mostly portraits, though a few were of buildings and one a yellow potted flower. Directly ahead was a hallway and to the right what looked to be a dining area with a round table and four chairs.
“Take Drake to the spare room, so he can put away his things,” said Hanna.
Gymal reached out and took her bag from Drake and jerked his head for him to follow. They walked down the hall past a kitchen to the second door on the left. The room was small, with
only a single bed and a dresser, but Drake was grateful that he had not been forced to find some alley or a roof to bed down on. For all he knew, there were no boarding houses here, or at least none that he could afford with his scant collection of coins.
From the little he had been able to learn from Guery, Malizar was the only Bomar city, which made the seemingly sparse population even more confusing. Barely a street in Troi was not jammed to capacity at this time of day.
He stowed his pack in the corner and returned with Gymal to the living room.
Hanna was sitting in a plush chair, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Drake thought she might have fallen asleep, but a tiny smile crept up.
“It’s good to be home,” she said.
Gymal sat on the sofa opposite, and Drake took the chair beside Hanna. “Did you speak to my father?” asked Gymal, a touch of anxiety in his tone. “I did,” Hanna replied, eyes still shut. “The answer is no.”
Anger flared in his expression. “He can’t do this. He has no right.”
Hanna opened her eyes and sighed. “I understand you’re disappointed. But he has every right. You’re his last surviving child. And being that he’s the Commander of the Third Legion, there’s not much you can do about it.”
“I can petition directly to the Imperial Court.”
Hanna shrugged. “You can try. But I promise you, they’ll deny it.”
Gymal glared. “How hard did you try to convince him? Did you even see him?”
Hanna’s face hardened. “Do not call me a liar, young man. I did what you asked. He said no. Live with it.”
Gymal was struggling not to wilt under Hanna’s scolding gaze. “This isn’t over.” He stood abruptly and started for the door. “And you,” he said, staring over at Drake, “if you’re some sort of thief, I’ll see you locked away. Understand?”
Drake simply stared back and said nothing.
With a snort, Gymal stormed out, slamming the door behind him. “What was that about?” asked Drake.
“Youthful ignorance,” she replied, wearily. “The boy wants to go fight the Nelwyn with his father.”
“Why?”
“Exactly.” She pointed to one of the cabinets. “Would you mind pouring us some wine?
My head is aching terribly.”
Drake hurried over, and considered several bottles and a row of glasses. “Something in particular?”
“Anything is fine.”
Drake picked one at random and poured them both a glass.
Hanna brought the rim to her nose and breathed deeply. “Not much of this left.” She took a sip, her smile returning. “It’s the little things I love most. I hope I’m gone before they are.”
“What do you mean?”
She lowered her head and gave a mirthless laugh. “The Imperium. They spend their time inventing new ways to make war. And no time on ways to make our lives better. It makes me wonder if my brother was right. We’re going to lose.”
“Why does he say that?”
“Because we’re dying.” She gave him an apologetic look. “I shouldn’t burden you with my problems.”
“I don’t mind.” Drake felt a touch guilty that although he did genuinely feel for the woman, he was far more interested in the information she could provide.
“How many births do you think there were last year?” “I don’t know.”
“Less than eight thousand.”
This shocked Drake. “Are you sure?”
Hanna sipped her wine. “My son told me about it before he died. And my brother said the same. The Imperium is frantic. Emperor Gylator himself said that childless couples should find more suitable mates. Can you believe that? He actually thinks he can force people to have children by decree. As if they didn’t want to already.”
“Then why are we fighting the Nelwyn?”
She tipped her glass and nodded. “That is the real question, now, isn’t it? My brother says that we need the resources, and the Nelwyn are unwilling to share.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think it’s the death throes of a dying beast. Rather than die quietly, we’re lashing out.
Even if we kill all the Nelwyn, it won’t stop what’s coming.” “And what is that?”
“You’re a smart young man. It’s not the Nelwyn preventing us from bearing children, now, is it? What will killing them accomplish?”
“Surely the Emperor knows this too.”
“Perhaps. But who do you know is willing to accept their own death? People will fight to the end, hoping to live for another day.”
Things were starting to make sense. What appeared to be mindless destruction and war was nothing more than desperation and hopelessness.
“What does your nephew do for the Imperium?”
“Makes bullets,” she replied. “Dangerous work. My son once told me that the rest of the Imperium stations were trying to get them to move operations to another building.”
“Why?”
“According to him, if it ever caught fire, the whole facility would come crashing down. I don’t see why it’s all in one place anyway.”
Drake wanted to press her on this, but it sounded as if she were complaining more than passing on information. She would likely assume he would know some of this already. At least when it came to the Imperium.
He let her prattle on for nearly an hour, her topics turning from the serious to the mundane. But this was helpful in its own right. She described the markets and the way the city functioned, though the details were vague in the way expected when speaking with someone you thought understood the references.
“I’m hungry,” she said after about an hour. “I think I’ll fix us something. That is, if my nephew left us anything in the kitchen.”
Hanna winced as she tried to stand.
Drake shot up. “Why don’t you stay put? I’ll make you something.” “You cook?”
He smirked. “I try.”
Over the years, Drake had become quite adept in the kitchen. When you lived alone, it was a necessity. Not to say he was a master, but he could definitely
make a decent meal.
Hanna held out her hand. “Tell you what. You can be my assistant.”
Drake helped her up, and they proceeded to the kitchen. It was typical enough, though it lacked a refrigerator. In a tall, thin cabinet, Hanna found a small portion of cured meat and asked Drake to cut it into slices. She then rummaged around until she found some rice and vegetables.
At least they have running water, thought Drake, as he filled a pot for the rice.
Hanna directed him as much as she could stand without doing the work herself. She was clearly not a woman prone to being idle. The stove was powered by some energy source, though it took twice as long to heat up as those in Vale.
They ate at a small table set a few feet off from the door. The food was a touch too salty for Drake’s tastes, but palatable. Afterward, Hanna told him that she needed to rest a while.
“There are some books in the living room,” she said, and handed him a key. “This will get you in if you get restless and want to go out for a while.” She then showed him where he could bathe before excusing herself.
Drake thanked her and went to his room to unpack. He too was tired, and feeling more than a little lost and isolated.
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