by Aaron Hubble
To remind them of what lay outside the light, the night sounds echoed around them. Faraway screeches rolled through the treetops and the patter of small feet scurried through the nearby ferns. Calier watched as those around the fire gripped whatever weapons they had available to them, whether it was a crossbow or kitchen knife.
Ibris dropped down next to him. “Professor, could you help me with my umbaku?”
Calier caught the look in his eyes and returned a knowing glance. “No problem.”
The two men walked quietly to where the umbaku lay. Ibris knelt and opened two canvas bag, shining his light inside. Calier recognized them as two of their food bags.
“This is what’s left of the food,” Ibris said.
Calier studied the contents. “It looks about enough for tomorrow.”
Ibris nodded. “Maybe. These people have already been expending enormous amounts of energy while eating two small meals. Even if we decrease the ration size more, it won’t last two days.”
Calier sighed. “We need to share this with everyone and make sure there are no secrets. It’s time to make another attempt at hunting and see if we can find edible plants. Somehow, we must make the forest provide for us.”
“I’m sure our ancestors would have looked at the forest and seen a bountiful smorgasbord. I see trees.” Ibris shook his head. “I should have listened a little more to my grandparents, but even they didn’t know a lot. The Great Peace has made everything so…”
“Easy,” finished Calier. He closed the top of the bags. “Let them sleep tonight without this burden, and then we’ll talk and strategize together tomorrow.”
“It’s a plan. Could you grab one of the bags? I don’t want animals getting into the little we have.”
****
Stray rays of sunshine filtered through the leaves and warmed the forest floor. Calier stretched and realized for the first time in several weeks he wasn’t waking up as the sun was setting.
This almost makes everything normal again. Almost, Calier thought
Maltoki and Berit brought him a bottle of water. He accepted it gratefully and took a long drink. The water hit his empty stomach, reminding him he hadn’t eaten anything for almost twenty-four hours. Maltoki handed him a piece of dry flat bread.
“Don’t eat too much. I’d hate it if you didn’t have room for dessert.”
Calier rolled his eyes at the young man’s dry humor. He tore off a piece of the bread, chewed, and washed it down with some more water. Looking at Berit, he was glad to see she no longer wore bandages over her wound. It had healed nicely, but the scar would always be a prominent feature of her left cheek, a reminder of one fateful day when everything had changed. Today she wore a green scarf over her left ear. It matched the color of the forest well. Her face had taken on a gaunt look, dark lines circling her eyes. She had lost weight on her already petite frame, and it showed in the way her clothes hung on her. Maltoki had the same frightfully thin look.
They were starving. Over twenty days without proper nutrition had left them scrawny and haggard.
Berit handed him a piece of paper. “I took your suggestion and started drawing again. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I worked on this. It was what I was seeing in my mind and it needed to be freed.”
On the paper was a rendering of the bridge leading into Gadol City. Broken cables hung from their supports. Abandoned vehicles piled up and great holes were ripped in the decking. It was the night the three of them had escaped the city. As Calier looked at the picture, chills ran up his spine, and he remembered in vivid detail the way the bridge had eerily creaked in the wind, silently watching over the city burning beyond it.
He handed the picture back to Berit. “It’s amazing, truly. Somehow you captured the feelings of that night and transferred them onto this piece of paper. It’s exactly what the coming generations need to see.”
She dipped her chin. “Maybe if I get those images on paper and out of my head I can get a little peace.”
Calier watched Maltoki lay his hand on her shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze. “Peace would be nice right about now,” he said thoughtfully. “But I’d settle for a real breakfast instead. Come on, Professor, Ibris wants to talk to everyone.”
Moving out from under the blankets, he followed the two young people to where most of the other villagers were gathered. He knew what Ibris had to say, but he was nervous nonetheless.
Ibris started. “Good morning, everyone. I might as well get right to the point. We haven’t been able to replace the food we’ve already eaten. With what we have left, there is enough food for maybe two days. First, I want to ask for volunteers to go down to one small meal, maybe half of us. That will stretch the food out for maybe another day or so.” Several hands went up, including Calier, Maltoki and Berit.
Denar stepped forward. “We could eat an umbaku.”
There was a gasp from Emura. The rest of the group remained silent.
“Those are our pack animals, Denar. We would need to leave some supplies behind if we used an umbaku for food,” Ibris said.
“Stuff or starvation. It’s up to you.” Denar shrugged. “I would rather have something in my stomach than carry around a few extra pots.”
Emura stood up, tears in her eyes. “You can’t eat the umbaku. They’re like our friends!”
Amer pulled the little girl close and tried to comfort her.
Kan looked around the circle of faces. “Denar has a valid point. We need the food, and we could get along without one of the animals. We should put it to a vote.”
“Fine with me,” Ibris said. “All those who want to use one of the umbaku as food, raise your hand.”
Seven hands went up in the air.
“Okay,” said Ibris. “The vote fails, so we keep the umbaku, for now. I too think Denar has a good point. If food isn’t found soon, we will revisit this idea. To the volunteers who said they will take less food, thank you. I shouldn’t have doubted any of you would volunteer. Secondly, if anyone can identify edible plants or how to find game, we need that information. It’s imperative we find something to eat soon or the situation will become dire.”
Calier saw the weight of concern on Ibris’s shoulders. He had been a builder, a tradesman, never aspiring to leadership, but he had taken on this mantle when called. Calier thought he had done a fine job and was impressed with the man’s performance. The history of the Am’Segid was filled with stories of men and women doing extraordinary things when the situation called upon them. He put Ibris in that category as well.
“Okay, enough bad news. Let’s leave in an hour so we can get a little closer to our new home.”
****
The group began moving, forming a column, at some places single file, at others two abreast. Emura moved up to walk beside Calier, Chan’ti her ever-present companion. Calier looked up from his map and smiled at Emura.
“How’s Chan’ti this fine day?”
“She’s good. A little scared of the forest.”
“The forest is a bit of a scary place. I don’t blame Chan’ti.”
The girl bit her lower lip and appeared thoughtful for a few seconds. “Professor, do you think I’ll be able to see my mom and dad again? I mean, when I die.”
Calier sucked in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Pretty heavy question for so early in the morning.”
The girl nodded and then reached out her hand and began stroking the tightly curled fur of her umbaku, waiting for an answer from him. It was easy to forget Emura was so young and had lost her parents only three weeks earlier. She had been so strong, grieving and shedding tears, but still pushing forward.
Calier watched several winged insects buzzing around a small stagnant pool of water, weighing his words before speaking. “Yes, I believe you will.” He paused, carefully considering his answer. “I think we’re all here for a reason and then, when our job is done, we’re called back home.”
Emura walked beside him, her feet barely making a
sound on the forest floor. Several stray hairs had escaped the braid running down her back. They played in the gentle breeze dancing around the girl’s ears.
“Sometimes I wish I had died with them. With my parents, I mean. I miss them so much.”
Calier folded the map and tucked it away in his pocket. Tears were sliding down the young girl’s face. Reaching out his arm, he pulled her close to him while continuing to walk. Not for the first time, he was unsure how much more his heart could take. Every day there was some new hurt to deal with. His own or those of the people around him.
How do I find the strength? he asked himself.
Bending down and kissing the top of her head, he spoke gently. “I know how you feel. Many years ago my wife died, and for a long time I felt like you do. Now, I have no idea if the rest of my family is alive. I don’t know why. I don’t have any answers for you or for me, and I wish I did. The only thing I do know is you and I are still alive, and that’s a wonderful gift. If we no longer had a purpose here, if our jobs were completed, then the Unseen One would have taken us as well. But he didn’t, so we still have work to do.”
He smoothed out several of the stray blonde hairs on the top of her head, wishing he had rock solid belief in everything he was telling the young girl. In truth, when he had time to think, he wondered about the purpose of his continued existence. Why had he been allowed to live when so many others had died? Calier had always believed in a greater purpose behind all the things that happened to him, but this - this was causing him to doubt the very existence of the loving Creator he had always believed in. And yet, he chose to still believe. If the Unseen One was real, he would reveal himself in the chaos. Calier held on to that hope as the morning sun filtered through the trees and imparted its warmth to his face. Looking down at Emura, he smiled again.
“This may be a bit selfish, but I’m glad you’re still here.”
Looking up and brushing away tears, Emura said, “You are?”
“Absolutely. We need people like you. Tough young ladies who can help us start over. Besides, who would look after Chan’ti? She’d be lost without you.”
Emura beamed and the smile seemed to heal a small place in Calier’s heart. A little bit of hurt was erased in the girl’s smile. An idea struck him. Unshouldering his pack, he opened it and rummaged through its contents. He pulled out a small notebook and pen, and handed them to Emura. She looked at them curiously.
“What are these for?”
“They’re for you, silly. I wasn’t sure why I grabbed a couple of notebooks out of my office. They take up room in my pack and add weight, but now I’m glad I did. When I was hurting, really hurting all those years ago, the thing that helped me the most was finding a quiet spot and writing down all of my feelings. Maybe it will help you as well. Who knows, five hundred years from now, when this is all a distant memory, young girls may read your memoirs and talk about Emura and her ever-faithful steed Chan’ti.”
The girl gripped the notebook in her small hand. They walked without talking for several minutes.
“Are you going to grade what I write?”
He was puzzled at first and then realized who he was talking to. Emura probably felt he was giving her an assignment when he was trying to do exactly the opposite.
“No, no. I’m not going to grade your writing. Nobody has to see what you write, it’s just for you. This isn’t a school assignment. If you don’t want to write, you don’t have to. I just thought it might help you. It’s completely up to you.”
Emura stuffed the notebook into one of the small bags draped over Chan’ti’s back. “Maybe I will write.”
“Good,” Calier said. “I can see it now. Bookstores of the future lined with the adventures of Emura, Chan’ti, and her friend the handsome professor.”
Emura’s face turned bright red. She gracefully pulled herself onto the umbaku’s back and trotted ahead of him. Turning back, she smiled and waved to him. He waved back. He could honestly say at that moment he was happy.
Until he realized they had come to the end of the safe zone.
****
Calier still wondered at the trees surrounding them. Their gently swaying limbs created the soundtrack for the forest. Leaves rustled against each other like a bow being pulled across the finely tuned strings of a violin.
Ferns carpeted the ground. The finger-like fronds reached out to brush against their pant legs. In places the ferns gave way to a springy carpet of moss. Small animals and birds flitted through the trees and undergrowth. They hid as the group neared, but poked their heads out of their nests and burrows to watch the passage of these travelers who dared interrupt their normal routine.
Calier watched the rest of the group ahead of him walk through a patch of sunlight. It danced over their heads and played across the backs of the umbaku. His mind was heavy with concern. He worried about night stalkers, wolves, and their lack of food.
And not too long ago my biggest concern was where I would go for lunch, Calier thought.
From his back pocket, Calier pulled his map and compass. His eyes moved between the two, and if his readings were correct, they were still going in the right direction to reach the cave.
He had to admit when the journey began he had doubted whether a group of modern Am’Segid could survive in the wilds. They were now so removed from their roots. The majority of the population living in the Great Cities relied on all the conveniences and comforts the city afforded. He wasn’t criticizing, far from it. He was a product of that same society, and because of that, he was painfully aware of what he didn’t know about living outside of those comforts.
Looking about him, Calier couldn’t help but think the forest was a different place in the light of day.
For one, he was more sure of where he was putting his feet while he walked. There were still many obstacles: downed trees, overgrown brush, and the root monsters that still grabbed ankles, but he was able to avoid most of them.
Walking in the light did wonders for the groups mood. The forest didn’t seem so threatening when you could see what was around you. Calier felt silly for fearing the forest the way he did, but years of conditioning and scary stories would do that to a person.
The walk was actually kind of nice.
If he could forget what he was walking from and what he was walking to. Hiding in a cave wasn’t his idea of luxury, but if it gained them a little time, he could make it a home.
Hunger and fatigue deflated the mood even more. To conserve what little they had, the group had agreed to decrease the rations even further and several people even volunteered to go a day without any food.
Calier had been one of the volunteers, and he was feeling it today. The pain in his stomach wasn’t too bad; it was something he could deal with. But the lack of energy made everything much more difficult. They needed to find a source of food soon or they would never make it to the caves.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pick up the crate.
Load the crate.
Make a mind-numbing flight to another city.
Unload the crate.
Repeat process ad nauseam.
The existence of Hildr team had become one of tedious repetition. Somebody always needed something. And that somebody was always on the opposite side of the continent. Before this, Dillon had dreaded the tone emitted by his handheld every time Shepherd sent him a message. Now, he would rather stab himself in the eye, repeatedly, with a dull spoon than receive another message from the colonel. Dillon imagined the man rifling through requests in his office, searching out the most boring and labor-intensive tasks to assign to Hildr team. They had become the pack mules of the Farpointe Initiative.
Not only that, but this new job description had cleaved the team into three distinct camps. Of the ten members, five were clearly aligning themselves with Morris, putting their money on the heir apparent. Two had refused to take a side, and Dillon was left with the ever loyal Isaiah Parker.
It could be worse,
Dillon thought. It could be just the Pilot and I.
He looked into the cockpit, catching a glimpse of the bald head, reflecting a slight blue hue from the instrument panel. Her impassive stare was fixed out the forward window.
Yep, that would be worse.
He looked out the side window by his head and watched the landscape rush below them. The Valkyrie streaked over a salt flat. A geyser erupted in the distance, sending a spray of water a hundred feet in the air. The indigenous had harnessed the massive geothermal energy that was in this area and converted it into a useful energy source. CPF scientists discovered that these people had instituted a complex and successful power grid that ran off the planet’s clean and renewable resources including, solar, wind, geothermal and hydroelectric. It was impressive.
The salt flat passed below them, and he saw a massive metropolis nestled close to a harbor and surrounded on three sides by cultivated farmland. Drawing nearer, he could see several spiraled towers rising from the city. Most had sustained heavy damage, and more than one had been toppled. The architecture of the towers and the buildings reminded Dillon of what he had seen in Central Asia on Earth. It must have been impressive when the city was thriving.
The landing thrusters ignited, and a heavy vibration ran through the decking of the ship.
The ramp lowered, and his men began the slow process of unloading the cargo they had ferried to this far eastern city. A warm breeze blew in from the harbor as he watched black uniformed CPF soldiers herd a group of native men into a land transport and then rumble out of the city in the direction of the farm fields. Now that all of the cities had been subjugated, the CPF had begun the task of assessing the continent’s resources, learning how the natives had gone about using them, and then putting into practice the most efficient way the CPF could extract and use the same resources.