Firmament: In His Image

by J. Grace Pennington

  I shook my head vigorously, still trying to take in the last few minutes. Taking my hand firmly in his, he set his blaster on a low intensity and said, “Come on.”

  When we brushed away the closed flap and looked out, I couldn’t stop a gasp.

  The sun poured through a massive hole in the front wall. Sandy bricks lay scattered and piled around the gap. The top couple meters of another wall had crumbled and the broken pieces lay here and there. Only a third of the tents still stood, another third partially torn or collapsed, and the remainder entirely destroyed.

  Looms lay in the sand and baskets had been dumped over, spilling food everywhere. Some children were crying, others simply lying in stunned silence. Many adults still lay on the ground, and some were trapped beneath the heavy tents.

  “Meter!” The wailing of a tiny voice caught my attention. Nama.

  Recklessly breaking free of Crash’s hold, I plunged into the crowd. “Andi!” he called, but I pressed on, following the voice. “Meter!”

  It wasn’t far away. I stopped for an instant to wipe the sweat from my eyes and looked desperately around.

  “Meter!”

  I turned towards the sound. A little hand protruded from a nearby fallen tent, and I rushed to it. The bulky wood and fabric mesh was heavy, but my frantic mind hardly noticed that as I lifted it and pushed it aside.

  Her tear-streaked face looked up into mine. She recognized me with a cry, and held her arms out to me.

  “It’s okay, Nama.” Dropping to her level, I clasped her in my arms. “I’m here.”

  Black boots appeared in my peripheral vision, and I looked up to see Crash watching, his brow creased with worry.

  “What happened?” I didn’t expect him to answer, but I had to ask. Nama clung to me, and I rocked her gently.

  He held up the communicator in his hands. “The Captain just called in.”

  “Are they okay?” The words left my lips just before I put it together. “Oh no… Crash, was it—”

  “Yes, blast it.” He tossed the communicator into the sand beside me. “The fools overcharged the warp coils. It sent such a jar through subspace I wouldn’t be surprised if it was felt back on earth. It’s amazing it didn’t blow out everything on the planet instead of just knocking down a few walls.”

  I shuddered and held Nama tighter.

  Crash pulled out his blaster. “Listen now. I have to go out and help—Howitz and Ralston were the closest ones to the core, and it knocked them cold. I can’t take you with me, because it’s the middle of the day, and Uncle says you shouldn’t make the journey out to the shuttle in the heat, because you’re more susceptible to heatstroke after your episode a few days ago.”

  He stepped forward and handed me the blaster. I took it, looking up at him with worry.

  “These people won’t be happy with us, if they link us to what happened. You could need this.”

  “I don’t want to use it…” I faltered, but he cut me off.

  “I don’t care. It’s set on lowest intensity, so if you’re threatened, use it. Get back to Uncle and stay with him. Come out to the shuttle when he says it’s safe, and bring Whales. He should be back by then.”

  “Crash…”

  “Go find Uncle,” he called, running off in the direction of the place in the wall where the door had been.

  Nama had stopped weeping, and now looked up into my face with wide, frightened eyes. I closed my fingers around the blaster and felt a drop of perspiration drip down my back.

  “Come on, let’s find your mother.”

  I stood up, keeping my arms around her, then let her go and bent to pick up the blaster and clip it to my belt. Then I took her little hand in mine and began looking.

  It wasn’t long before I saw Nama’s mother getting up off the ground several meters away. She was looking around frantically, calling for her daughter.

  Nama saw her at the same time that I did, and let go of my hand to run to her. The mother scooped her up and held her tight, looking thanks at me out of her dark eyes. I nodded, and then left. I had instructions to obey.

  The Doctor was still down in the tunnels. Hopefully the impact hadn’t disturbed his work.

  In the tunnels.

  My heart beat a little faster as a nervous idea popped into my mind. The tunnels were secure; they’d stood for what must have been hundreds of years. Everything was alright. He’d just be a little startled, that would be all. I made myself believe it.

  Not worrying about being seen, I opened the trap door and made my way down the long ladder. It seemed very long in my frenzy to get to the bottom, but my feet met rocky ground at last, and I dug out the book that was still in the bag I had slung over my shoulder.

  “Dad?” I flipped on the backlight and started forward. “Doctor, is everything okay down here?”

  The silence struck me as eerie in a way it hadn’t earlier that day.

  “Doctor, I brought your food.” As if he would be worrying about his food after the shaking he must have received. But I said it anyway.

  The light must not have been as good as I thought, for the blockage was upon me before I knew it. I stopped, feeling suddenly cold as a rocky, uneven wall rose before me. It hadn’t been there that morning. It was made up of debris and rocks from the ceiling.

  XXI

  A scream rose in my throat, but I didn’t let it out. I was frozen still for an eternity before I threw myself against the rubble wall, the scream breaking free. “No!” I’d make it through, I would. He was okay, he had to be.

  “Doctor!”

  The echoes of my shriek were the only words that returned to me. I clawed at the wall, scraping off a few particles of sand, but not budging one of the rocks.

  A hand clamped down on my shoulder with an iron grip and I struggled against it recklessly. “Let me go!”

  Instead, the hand whirled me around to face its owner, and I found myself staring into the fierce dark eyes of Basilius.

  I was silenced completely, and just looked at him. I had never been this close to him before. I could feel my heart thumping.

  “All’ houtos Elasson?” he asked at last, gripping me harder.

  I swallowed, and my first attempt to speak was unsuccessful. Then I pointed behind me to the rock wall with a trembling finger. “Elasson is—in there.”

  Letting go of me abruptly, he laid his massive hands firmly on the wall without expression in his face.

  “Moros.” He ground out the words through clenched teeth. Then turning only his head, he looked at me again. “Fero Perekhon,” he ordered savagely, and I didn’t need a translator to know what he wanted.

  I backed up, nodding, and tripped over a rock, landing with a grunt. My eyes still on him, I scrambled up, turned, and ran back down the passage.

  Not taking the time to bother with the light, I tore through the dimness, stumbling over stones. At one point I tripped and fell forward with a cry, and something smooth and hard hit my cheek. I touched it and then recoiled when I realized that it was the bones of a human hand. I screamed, jumped up and ran again.

  At last I reached the ladder and clambered up in a panic, adrenaline pumping through me so that I could hardly contain myself. I was at the top before I had time to think, and pulled myself out.

  “Perekhon!” I cried, looking around for the tall, dark man I had grown to hate. “Perekhon!” I darted here and there among the wailing people and fallen tents. “Perekhon—”

  I saw him just as he was turning towards me. His face darkened in a scowl, but I didn’t care. “Basilius wants you,” I panted, pointing away towards the tunnels.

  Frowning, he pushed past me and strode in the direction of the trapdoor. I followed at a safe distance, still nervous and shaky.

  Basilius still stood there, but he had not been idle. With his iron strength he’d been able to dislodge a couple of the rocks, but still there was no hole in the wall. Sweat dripped from his face as he struggled against another one. I had to wonder why he w
as doing this—he didn’t care anything about his brother, did he?

  Perekhon hurried to his ruler’s side, and Basilius barked an order.

  Shaking, I reached into the bag I carried and pulled out the book, flipping it to our makeshift translation mode.

  Basilius explained something in a long sentence, and on my screen I saw the words, “Lesser is trapped behind this wall. You must call five able-bodied men here to free him.”

  Perekhon bowed. “Nai, kurios,” he said, and my screen said, “Yes, lord.” Without further question or delay, he started back towards the ladder.

  Basilius looked at the wall, his eyes moving up and down it with determination. “Outos gar nomos estin,” he murmured, and on the screen appeared the words, “It is the law.”

  He made a quick motion to turn towards me, and I hastened to shove the book back in the bag. “Hode ti prassete?” he stormed. “Ton te laon to dedrakate? Kalos gar eichomen prin aphikesthai to son genos eis ten hemon auton te kai tes diaites hemon diaphthoran, ho per auto proeipon ego.”

  I was silent. Whatever he was saying was not complimentary or kindly meant, that much was certain. I felt a tear roll down my face. Was the Doctor alright? Was he behind that wall or—was he under it?

  “Deute boethesousa,” the man called authoritatively, beckoning to me with evident impatience. Then he turned again to the wall and wrapped his thick fingers around a rock bigger than his head, the muscles in his arms bulging underneath his tawny skin. I rushed over and dug my own small hands above it, pressing down with all my might.

  His tunic was already soaked with perspiration, and in minutes I felt it form in drops on my own face. I could smell it, hot and musty as I tugged.

  “Duskolos!” he insisted, and I exerted myself even more. With a final push, the rock dislodged, but as it rolled onto the floor I saw with a sinking heart that the wall behind it looked just as solid as the piece we had taken away.

  But now soft footsteps padded through the cavern behind us, and torch light illuminated the wall. Perekhon appeared seconds later, followed by four or five men bearing torches. After saying a few hurried, frustrated words to them and pounding expressively on the wall, Basilius left, casting an angry glance at me as he hurried away.

  “Spoudasomen!” Perekhon cried, loosening the belt at his waist. The men set the torches into stands in the wall and fell upon the rock pile with vigor.

  They hadn’t seemed to notice me; at least they hadn’t acknowledged my presence; but I didn’t expect things to stay this way for long. Though every instinct in my shaking body screamed at me to jump forward and help them, I knew I could do no good that way. What I needed to do was contact the others.

  I had to get out of earshot of the workers first, preferably without drawing attention to myself. In that moment, the realization that I was alone in a mass of Greek-speaking people washed over me. People whose difficult lives we had just complicated. The Doctor was trapped, Crash and the Captain were out at the shuttle trying to get us ready to leave, and Whales was gone without his communicator.

  Edging my way along the side of the tunnel, I stepped softly until I was well out of sight of the men, and then broke into a run along the pebble-covered ground. Pulling out my communicator as I hurried along, I switched it on and called to the Captain. “Captain, this is Andi.”

  There was no response. Just static.

  “Captain?”

  After listening to static for a moment more, I sighed and clipped it back to my belt. The transmission must be blocked by the tunnel ceiling.

  I barely waited until I had pulled myself out onto the sandy surface to try calling again. “Captain, this is Andi, please come in!”

  No response. There was not even any static. What was the matter? I turned the problem over in my mind, and the solution came rather quickly. The radiation they were working with must be blocking or reflecting the transmission. And Whales didn’t have his communicator. The Doctor’s communication would be blocked by being so far underground.

  I was alone.

  Even Elasson was gone now. What should I do? I was powerless to help any of them.

  Heartsick, I sat down on the soft sand and let a few tears run down my face.

  God, show me what to do.

  I don’t know how long I sat there, feeling anxious and helpless. It was like this was a dream—I couldn’t seem to make myself believe that I was really sitting there on an alien planet, in danger, with the Doctor possibly hurt or worse. It was as though my mind had some kind of threshold that shut off my sense of reality when things got too strange.

  Reaching up to wipe the sweat from my forehead was what finally brought me back. I needed to get some water before I became dehydrated. Then there was one thing I could do, small as it seemed—I could go back to our tent and pack up whatever was left there in preparation for leaving. Whenever the Doctor got free, we were supposed to go out to the shuttle at once, and it was best to be ready. If, my mind said. I clenched my fists and shook my head violently. No if. He had to be alright. He just had to.

  I reached our tent, which was still mostly standing, and I pushed the flap out of the way and stumbled in, falling to my knees. I had to keep myself calm and reasonable. If I let myself think about the Doctor I would break down, I knew it. And Elasson too—if he had been killed by helping us—

  No. I couldn’t go there. With quick determined motions, I picked up a half-full jug of water and drained it dry. Then I set about picking up the random instruments, food and clothing that lay around. One by one I purposefully put each article into one of the three packs that were still there—mine, Crash’s and the Doctor’s. I took Crash’s blaster from my belt and dropped it into one of the packs.

  It probably only took about ten minutes, and when I was finished I stood up and glanced around for anything I might have overlooked. One thing met my eyes; a small white object in the far corner. Bending over to pick it up, I recognized it and laid it open in my hand, letting tears drip down my cheeks again. It was the Doctor’s cloth armband; dirty, but with the golden medical and rank insignias still clear.

  I clenched my fingers around it and thought about the tunnels. The cave in was a long way from where the Doctor and Elasson had been working. A very long way. Unless the entire ceiling had collapsed, they were probably only trapped, not crushed. I took some comfort at the thought.

  But then, what if it took days to dig them out? The oxygen wouldn’t last forever down there. My heart sank again.

  Unless—could there be another way out?

  Surely, surely when digging the tunnels the diggers wouldn’t have depended on that one exit. They couldn’t have been so foolish. The tunnel went on a long way after the scroll chamber, and Elasson hadn’t bothered to take us down there. Maybe there was another way out. Elasson would know about it, and he could lead the Doctor out.

  It wasn’t until I began going over the tunnel in my mind, mentally traveling its long dark passageways that it hit me. I straightened up with a cry, hitting my head on one of the posts that had partially fallen.

  The tombs. The ones with pictures on their stones were first, and farther down were the ones with writing. But the writing must have been done earlier. So the section closer to the walls must have been dug more recently.

  That meant there had to be another exit—the place where the diggers had started years before.

  And—of course! The puzzle that had confused me since we first arrived! Elasson and the others sneaked up on us when we could see for miles. They must have used another tunnel opening! That meant that Elasson knew how to get to the shuttle via the tunnel exit.

  I grabbed up the three packs. The doctor and Elasson could have already started for the shuttle, thinking I had gone with Crash. Either way, it was time to head out there, sun or no sun. I would be careful. And the look in Basilius’s eyes as he pulled on the rock wall had told me that we were in horrible trouble for what we’d done to their colony. I needed to warn everyone not to
come back.

  Hoisting the packs onto my shoulders, I started out, hope filling my heart again.

  There was still commotion and a great bustle going on, and I weaved my way through the people, steeling my nerves against the feelings of pity and sorrow I felt for them. It was horrible, but now I had to get back to the shuttle. Like the Captain said, there might be a way we could help them someday.

  My eyes were caught by a group of people standing around something I couldn’t see. They stood and looked, then moved away, their heads down. Gradually the crowd thinned enough for me to see what it was they were looking at.

  Basilius lay stretched out on the sand, his eyes half-closed, his skin red and blotchy, and his great fists clenched. I understood with a strange pain in my throat what it was. He had overexerted himself, and now had heat exhaustion. It was quickly progressing into heatstroke, and he would die if it wasn’t treated.

  XXII

  As more people moved on past Basilius, leaving him lying alone, I bit my lip and brought my hand to the little bag at my side. I knew how to treat it. I’d read about it, and had firsthand experience with it from the past few days. I could heal him if I started soon enough. He could recover quickly.

  I looked in the other direction at the wall where the door had been. If I could get back to the shuttle, I’d be safe. I’d be with the Doctor again.

  I looked again at the big man lying helpless on the ground. His eyes drooped closed, and his fists gradually relaxed. He had let so many people die. He had been angry with us for healing Nama, just because it took away a couple of workers for a few days. He treated Elasson like dirt, and had nearly had the Doctor killed.

  Again I looked longingly towards the outside. But I knew beyond a doubt what the Doctor would do if he were here.

  Gritting my teeth and dropping the three packs where I stood, I strode to the ruler’s side and dropped to my knees once more. It didn’t matter what he’d done, or what he might do. He was a human being, made in the image of the Creator, with a life and a heart and a soul. It was in my power to save him—so it was my duty to do so.