The City of Ashes

by Robert I. Katz

  Each survival kit held a canteen and iodine pills, a folding knife, a small crossbow with five quarrels, matches, a compass (useful for the others now that the interface was offline), a magnifying glass, a poncho, a flashlight with a hand cranked charger, a large candle, tape, rope, a sleeping bag, a tarp and two aluminum poles which could serve as a makeshift tent, a first aid kit, ten nails, fishing line with hooks and a bobber, six high calorie food bars and a multipurpose tool that included a small fold out shovel, a hatchet edge, a saw edge and a hammer.

  We filled our canteens at the spring then they all looked at me. By some unspoken agreement, I seemed to be in charge. “Let’s keep going,” I said. “We’ll hole up during the heat of the day and walk at night.”

  Commander Boyd hefted his pack. Bowman frowned then gave a small shrug. “Which way?” he said.

  I pointed. “That way.” We were near the center of the Corona, a rocky, sandy, blasted landscape stretching five hundred kilometers in every direction but we had to go somewhere and we might as well head in the direction of home. Silently, we set out.

  We walked nearly five kilometers in a straight line, trudging across the sand, when Commander Boyd turned to me and said, “It’s the Empire, isn’t it?”

  I considered this for a moment then said, “I think so.” It was the most logical explanation. The Empire had technology that we lacked and its citizens were smaller than the Illyrian standard.

  “What do they get out of it?” Jennifer asked. “What are they trying to do?”

  “Who knows? They seem to be supporting Gath.” I shrugged. “I have no idea why.”

  “We’re bigger, stronger and faster than they are. We make good soldiers,” Bowman said.

  “If they wanted us to serve in their military, they can hire as many as they want,” I said. “See the Universe and get paid for it? Plenty would join up. I still don’t get it.”

  The Commander shook his head. Bowman looked morose and spat in the dust. Jennifer frowned.

  We walked until we came to a small canyon with crumbling, unstable walls. None of us felt like risking the climb so we turned to the north and soon, the canyon petered out into a rocky crevice that we were able to clamber over without too much trouble. We made good time until dawn then we pitched the tarps and slept in the shade.

  We rose again when the sun was almost down, ate an energy bar each, sipped from the canteens, then packed our makeshift tents and trudged on. Here and there, scattered on the cracked earth, some dry grass and even a few twisted bushes pushed up toward the sky. Sooner or later, we would need food and cooked food would probably be better than raw. Each of us picked up some dried twigs and placed them in our packs.

  Locusts and ants were common here, lurking under rocks and clinging to the sparse grass. Insects were protein, disgusting protein, but still protein and we needed protein. I plucked a fat grasshopper, winced at what I was about to do, then popped it into my mouth and swallowed, trying to avoid tasting it. It squirmed as it went down and I shuddered.

  Jennifer winced and Bowman grimaced.

  “You’ll eat them, too, when you get hungry enough,” I said.

  The Commander looked green but he didn’t contradict me.

  Jennifer suddenly spun and her crossbow twanged. I heard a thump and she gave me a satisfied little smirk. “No,” she said. “We won’t.”

  A large rabbit lay on its side, Jennifer’s bolt through its chest. I stared at it. Its dead eyes seemed to be laughing at me. “I wish you’d done that thirty seconds earlier.”

  We butchered the animal, cooked and smoked the meat as best we could and resumed walking.

  Chapter 13

  Nothing untoward happened for four more days. We slept when the sun was high, walked at night and killed the occasional small animal for food. I managed to locate two more small springs bubbling up out of the dirt. It was hot, sweaty and tedious but not particularly dangerous. We had only one close call, when a cobra wandered through Bowman’s improvised tent one afternoon, but the snake seemed more intent on hunting rabbits and kangaroo rats than Bowman and so he escaped with only a scare.

  On the fifth morning, we finally reached the foothills, dotted with small trees and tufts of brownish green grass. We were almost out of the Corona and it was close to sunrise when I spied a heat signature on the horizon. The Commander noticed me staring. “What is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Something’s coming.” I looked around us and grimaced. The trees were too small to climb. No mountains, no hills large enough to offer concealment, no caves. Nothing. There was nowhere to hide.

  “Oh, crap,” Bowman muttered. All of us placed quarrels in our bows and waited. Within minutes, we could make out a band of over twenty men on horseback, carrying rifles. They formed a circle with us at its center and then stopped. We faced them back-to-back and waited.

  One of them, lean and bearded, wearing stained robes that might once have been white, his head covered with a piece of checkered cloth, walked his horse toward us. “You are Douglas Oliver,” he said. “We have been shown your picture. All of you will come with us.”

  “Why should we?” I asked.

  He turned his head to the side and spat on the ground. “You are the one we are interested in. If you try to resist, we will kill your comrades and take you. You cannot stop us.”

  Not a lot of room to negotiate, I thought. Maybe later. “You make a convincing argument.”

  One of the men dismounted and led four horses into the circle. We mounted them, the horses eyeing us with evident distaste. “Do not try to escape,” the leader said. “These horses are well trained. They will not follow your commands.”

  We were near the border of Indimion, a small state of scattered nomadic tribes who followed their cattle across the plains and lived a simple life of hunting and herding. They traded beef and leather for rifles and cloth and some medical supplies. Their government consisted of a council of Chiefs, each group of over fifty tribesmen electing a headman, who then elected a Chief. It was a system not too different from Meridien’s, except that the council met only once a year, at a grand festival, and otherwise each small tribe fended for itself.

  They didn’t mistreat us. We shared their food and water and were even given cups of arack, an alcoholic drink that they distilled from the sour fruit of a desert tree. We stopped at a watering hole to rest the horses and five of the men started fires and grilled a small goat over a spit. We were allowed to wander about, though they kept an eye on us. I walked over to the headman where he sat on a log and sat down next to him. He acknowledged me with a nod but otherwise ignored my presence. “What are you planning for us?” I asked.

  He looked at me silently then shrugged. “We have been paid to apprehend you. We have done so. What happens next is not our affair.”

  “I see.” About what I expected. I stared into the fire for a moment, thinking. “Who paid you?”

  “You will find out when we arrive.” He rose to his feet and walked off. I thought I detected a bit of disapproval in the set of his shoulders, or maybe it was guilt, though this might have been my imagination.

  They posted sentries at night, wrapped themselves in their robes and lay down upon the hard ground to sleep. Most of them were soon snoring.

  I thought at first that we might be able to sneak away under cover of darkness, though I was not certain where we would go, but they shackled our hands and feet while they slept. I thought about fighting. I had weapons of which they were unaware but I couldn’t overpower all of them and the ones who were left might simply decide to eliminate us all, or at least eliminate my companions. And so, we travelled on for three more days, moving farther and farther from our destination, and for the moment I decided to sit tight and wait for whatever might happen because something was trailing us.

  High overhead, an electromagnetic pulse fluttered, a drone with spinning blades. An hour later, three more appeared. They hovered over us at a steady height, following along but
doing nothing.

  The drones were too high for the others to see, but Jennifer, who knew me well, could tell that I was distracted. She squinted her eyes, looked upward, shrugged and pretended that nothing had changed.

  We crossed the border into Indimion. Grasslands stretched out on all sides, dotted with an occasional copse of trees and scattered small oases. A few hours later, I first heard a high-pitched thrum—an engine turning over. A minute or so later, our captors heard it as well. The headman held his hand up and all the horses stopped. They formed a circle, facing outward. A few horses pawed at the ground. The men held their rifles at the ready.

  From three points over the horizon, airships rose into sight, turned to face us and came slowly closer, their propellers lazily turning. They were flying the flag of the Meridien navy.

  The headman did not look happy. His men exchanged worried glances. Good.

  One airship drifted down. Its ports opened. Its lasers pointed at the riders. A group of men and women in military uniform appeared at the rail and looked down at us. They did not appear to be impressed with what they were seeing. The group parted and another man in civilian clothes walked up to the rail. I made a sour face at the sight of him. He grinned down at me then said to the headman, “You’re surrounded. These are our people. Release them and we’ll let you go.”

  The headman didn’t think about it for long. He had no way to fight three navy airships. He turned his head and signaled soundlessly to his men. The circle parted and we dismounted. The ship hovered close to the ground and rope ladders dropped over the sides. We clambered upward and a few seconds later, we stood on the deck.

  “Douglas. Long time, no see.”

  I sighed. “Hello, Leon,” I said. “Thanks for the rescue.”

  Leon Sebastian beamed. “Don’t mention it. Let’s get going. The Council is eager to talk to you.”

  A brief but full blown civil war had raged in Gath. Nasim Bakkar had laid his plans well. He had support from nearly half of the generals and he used his own attempted arrest as a pretext for pre-emptive action. Idris Kartal had died in the ruins of his palace and the Conservatives were now firmly in charge.

  Over the next few days, in city after city across the continent, agents, some of them in place for years, quietly packed up and moved out in the middle of the night. Most of these had been assumed to be loyal citizens of the nations where they lived. It seemed quite unlikely that all of Gath’s spies had been recalled, probably just the ones whose loyalty was in question. Still, it seemed clear that the threat that Gath posed to the rest of the continent had been significantly diminished, if not ended.

  In addition to ourselves, three more of the Endeavor’s crew had been rescued, walking across the Corona.

  I looked forward to giving my report to the Council. I looked forward to taking a bath.

  “You’re sure about this?” It was more a statement than a question. Guild Master Ballister looked grim. All ten seats were occupied, the Masters’ expressions ranging from anger to disdain to barely concealed amusement, though I myself saw little to be amused by.

  Leon Sebastian and I had spoken at great length during the trip back to Meridien. None of this was a surprise to Leon and he had already reached his own conclusions. He leaned back in his chair and listened to the conversation with a smile on his face, pleased with his new position as Guild Master of Gentian.

  “That the Empire is working with Gath?” I shrugged. “Not certain, no, but the facts would seem to point in that direction.”

  “In your opinion,” Ballister said.

  “Well, yes.”

  The Second Interstellar Empire of Mankind maintained at least a small consulate in the capital city of all the larger, richer nations. The head consul in Aphelion was named Joshua Reynolds. He sat now in a chair at the bottom of the amphitheater. Jennifer and I sat next to him, with the Guild Masters’ chairs in a circle above us. Reynolds did not appear comfortable. He had listened to my report with a blank face and so far, he had said nothing.

  Guild Master Anderson looked at him. “Mr. Reynolds?”

  “I don’t know anybody named Winston Smith or David Lovett,” Reynolds said querulously.

  He was telling the truth, which surprised me only a little. Ballister appeared disgusted, while Guild Master Anderson favored Reynolds with a benign smile. “So, the subversion of the Western Continent is not official Empire policy?” Anderson said.

  Reynolds grimaced. “No,” he said.

  Leon leaned forward. “What is official Empire policy?”

  “With regard to you?” Reynolds lifted both hands in a bewildered gesture. “The same as it’s always been. We’re neutral in your disputes. We’re interested in trade. The First Empire believed in conquering the Universe. We don’t.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Ballister said, though he did not, in fact, sound reassured.

  “Do you have any pictures of this Winston Smith, or any of his colleagues?” Reynolds asked.

  Leon pointed a controller at the wall monitor. It lit with a vid of the fifteen men and women leaving the shielded mansion in Gath, before boarding their airships. “We shall of course provide you with a copy,” Leon said.

  Reynolds stared at the figures on the screen. They were all small, smaller than us, at any rate…just like him. Reynolds puffed up his cheeks. His eyes slid to my face and then back again to the video. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize any of them.”

  “But you will make inquiries,” Ballister said.

  “Of course I will.” Reynolds sounded angry. “I want to get to the bottom of this just as much as you do.”

  Leon frowned at him. “Probably not quite as much as we do.”

  Chapter 14

  It felt good to be home. The Tower had been scrubbed clean, the walls reinforced and the damage to my apartment repaired. Still, I felt the weight of recent events weighing on me. The place just didn’t feel as safe as it used to. I had often considered building an estate on the mainland, some place with room for all of my Security, a place that would serve as both home and corporate headquarters. The more I thought of it, the more I liked the idea.

  Jennifer had returned to her own place as soon as our airship docked in Aphelion but I knew that I would see her again, early the next day as we made our report to the Guild Council. We were planning on drinks and dinner and we would both be returning to my apartment. It was now a little past noon and I was listening to Benedict and Curtis report on the current state of Oliver Enterprises.

  I had trouble paying attention. I had spent years building up my business, nurturing it, growing it, playing the game. Now, it seemed…I don’t know…petty, perhaps. Not that any of it was unimportant…not exactly, and not that I didn’t care…not exactly. I drew a sigh. I had other things on my mind.

  In the end, I forced myself to listen. I had a responsibility to the organization and to all the people that the organization employed. I signed a contract to import spices from the Northern Islands. I signed a financing agreement with a building contractor in Valspur, which also gave us twenty percent of the corporation. I made decisions. I gave instructions. I offered guidance, and at the end of the long, interminable morning, I was so bored I could almost scream.

  Benedict had never seen me this way. He gave me a worried frown. “Are you alright?”

  “A lot has happened in a short period of time. I think I need a little time to adjust.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You’re young but you have more than enough set aside. You could forget the rat race and enjoy yourself.”

  “You’ve never seen a rat,” I said. “None of us have.”

  “It’s a saying.” Benedict shrugged. “I’ve seen pictures. They’re unpleasant.”

  Rats were dirty and tough and ugly and they carried plagues. Unpleasant, indeed. If ancient myth could be believed, they sometimes stole human babies and raised them as their own.

  I sank back in my chair and f
rowned down at the table. I was tempted. I really was, but I knew that I wasn’t cut out for doing nothing. What I enjoyed most of all was making things work, building something significant, and if that involved beating somebody else to a prize, well, that only made it just a little bit sweeter. “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  Benedict gave me a quick grin, but I could see sympathy on his face. Curtis, not so much. He looked worried.

  “Relax,” I told them. “I’m not quitting, not for a good long while.” I wasn’t sure I believed it and Curtis still looked worried.

  I met Jennifer that evening at Arcadia. She was already seated by the window when I walked in and I felt something inside of me relax at the sight of her. She smiled as I pulled out a chair. “Home,” she said. “Isn’t it strange?”

  “You too? I guess we were away too long. It feels like something is missing.”

  She squinted her eyes at me, looking uncertain. “Not strange in a bad way. It just feels like things are different, somehow. They look the same but…” Her voice trailed off. Then she gave a little shrug and smiled at me again and I felt myself sink into that smile and I smiled back. That hadn’t changed.

  “Excuse me, sir?” A small boy, maybe ten years old, stood by my side, a diffident, almost frightened look on his face.

  “Yes?”

  He held a small notebook out to me. “Could I have your autograph?”

  I could see a young couple at a nearby table smiling at him indulgently, presumably his parents. “Uh, sure,” I said.

  He beamed in absolute joy as I took the notebook and the pen that he handed to me and signed my name with a flourish. “Thanks!” he said.

  “Don’t mention it,” I said. Then I noticed that at least half the patrons were giving me sidelong glances and whispering to each other, and I remembered that the Grand Tournament of Gath was televised all over the world.