by Mark Lingane
“What’s he doing here?” Sebastian said, pointing at Gavin. He looked unimpressed.
They had gathered in the charred remains of the tesla school. Parts of it had remained intact, but most of it had been demolished and it was now unsafe, making it the perfect location for a secret clubhouse.
Sebastian and Melanie sat opposite each other on the remnants of several beds.
“Ah, well, I … Gavin’s good at planning,” Melanie said. “And we need a plan. We can’t just run screaming at the cyborgs and hope they don’t notice. We need a plan.”
Sebastian gave her a long stare. “This is very suspicious.”
Gavin spoke up. “I was caught by them for a short while. I learned some things, valuable information we could use in times of duress.”
“Like what?”
“They have a problem with water.”
“I knew that,” Sebastian said. “What else?”
“I don’t want to talk about it yet. My head still hurts when I think about it.”
Sebastian sighed and shook his head. He looked at Melanie. “All right, I know why you and I are here, and I can sort of understand why you want Gavin, but explain to me why we need Isaac.”
“He looked at me with those eyes and I couldn’t say no,” she said. “And we might need someone expendable if we get stuck.”
“Hey!” Isaac shouted. He was several beds away from the group, searching through the abandoned effects to see if there was anything worth taking on the expedition and stuffing things into a pack.
“Just kidding,” she told him. “No, I’m not,” she whispered behind her hand to Sebastian.
“I heard that, too.”
She shrugged. “Isaac’s good at taking instructions. He’s packed everyone’s travel packs without complaining.”
“You only want to boss him around.”
“I don’t think we should get caught up in who does what,” she said. “It’s a dangerous journey and we should all be working together.”
“And his owl?”
She let out a long sigh. “You got me on that one. But if it keeps him happy, then what does it matter. Remember, he’s the expendable one.”
“Hey!”
*
They peered down the dark alleyway to the western gate. They had found a deep alcove next to a derelict shop. It was late, way past everyone’s bedtime. Most of the lanterns had been extinguished, and a serene tranquility had settled over the city.
“I think we could’ve timed our departure a bit better,” Sebastian said.
“How were we to know it would rain?” said Isaac.
“How about if someone had looked out the window? It shouldn’t have been hard to tell. Great big broiling clouds so dark they blacked out the night sky. The sound of thunder. Lightning.”
“You were the ones on the roof, looking in that direction,” Isaac replied.
“I want it recorded that Isaac’s the only person with a raincoat. He managed to pack one for himself but no one else,” Melanie said.
“I’m still injured and you didn’t exactly give me much time. Or a list.”
Sebastian shushed them. “We’ve got huge challenges ahead and arguing won’t help,” he hissed.
“We now have the added challenge of not slipping on the wet cobblestones,” Melanie said.
They watched the gate. The fat sergeant was sitting behind the desk. He was surrounded by various weapons and was staring intently at the far door.
Sebastian concentrated, and the weapon nearest the door toppled over. The guard let out a long string of expletives, but stayed resolutely behind his desk.
Sebastian nudged Melanie. “He sounds like you,” he whispered.
“I do not swear like that.”
“Yes, you do,” the three boys replied.
“I had a reason. I was sick.”
“And fat,” said Isaac.
“I was not fat. I merely carried some slight padding from my illness.”
“From too much food, you mean,” muttered Isaac. He gave Melanie a bleak look when she punched his shoulder.
She lowered her fist. “You remind me of why I’m glad my sister’s a thousand miles away.”
“Shh!” Sebastian hissed again. “We need to get closer.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The weapon right next to the guard fell off the desk and clattered to the floor. The guard shrieked but failed to move.
“This is stupid,” said Melanie. “He’s not moving for anything.” She stood up and stormed into the gatehouse. She stood there with her arms on her hips, glaring at him.
“What are you doing here, young lady?” He stood up, shaking his finger at her. The button from his trousers flew off, his belt buckle snapped open, and his trousers fell down around his ankles. He shrieked again and ran for the storeroom.
Everyone dashed into the gatehouse.
“We need a key,” hissed Melanie.
“No, we don’t,” Sebastian replied. He concentrated. He could feel the weight of the cogs in the lock. He clarified their alignment, and they clicked into place. The gate unlocked and they stumbled into the outside world.
Sebastian closed the door and ran to catch up with the others as they made their way over to the hill, with the sand quickly turning to mud under their feet. They took refuge against the hill. Sebastian could sense the beast beneath.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered.
I’ll be back, came the echo.
He was simultaneously worried and cheered, and he didn’t know why.
37
THE RAIN DROVE down from the heavens. The sky was pitch black. Visibility could only be measured in yards. The night had crawled by marginally slower than the scenery. Time lost its relevance as the weather drove against them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet. Even when I’ve been swimming,” Melanie said.
Gavin had offered her his jacket, but it was so wet it was as effective as a sieve. The desert plains had turned to mud, and their progress had slowed to a crawl.
“In the planning of this great mission, did anyone check where we were heading?” Gavin said.
“I know roughly where we’re going,” replied Sebastian.
“Good. Nothing like being certain.”
“I can feel the direction.”
“This isn’t some special kind of Sebastian’s intuition, is it?”
“I could send up my owl,” Isaac interjected.
“You do know your owl isn’t real, don’t you?” Melanie asked him.
“It’s a perfect replica. I got it off Albert.”
“If it was real, it could scout out a direction or some shelter for us,” she said.
“It can fly.”
There was silence for several minutes as the troop marched on through the eternal mud.
Eventually Sebastian spoke. “Isaac, is your owl an automaton?”
“What’s that?”
“A self-operating machine. You can set it to do a particular task like fly. Does your owl do something like that? Does it search?”
“Maybe,” he replied cautiously. “But it hasn’t been the same since the tesla tower fell on it.”
“We’ve been going for hours,” Sebastian said. “We should try to find somewhere dry where we can get some rest and dry out a bit. What kind of things can your owl search for, Isaac?”
Isaac held it up and read from the words on the back. “Mice, keys, home, and the glint of a solitary beacon of hope in the pit of the night.”
“Really?” Gavin asked.
“Actually, it says ‘light,’ but I’d thought I’d spice it up a bit.”
“Do the light setting. It’s a million-to-one chance out here, but you never know,” Sebastian said.
Isaac took out a large key and inserted it into the bottom of the owl. He twisted for several minutes. He changed hands and continued to turn the key. After several more minutes he swapped hands again and continued. He had his tongue stuck out the
side of his mouth and a fixed expression of concentration. He paused and shook his hand, then continued to wind.
“Oh, this is stupid, give it to me. We’ll be here all night.” Melanie snatched it out of his hands. After several minutes she swapped her hands.
Isaac looked smug. “See, it’s not as easy as you think.”
Finally the mechanism tightened and slowed, until at long last it clicked as far as it would go. Melanie handed it back with a look of triumph on her face, secretly wringing her hands behind her back.
Isaac double-checked the setting on the back, flicked a small lever on the underside of the owl’s feet, and threw it into the air. The wings flapped with a chaotic urgency as it fought for height. It flapped in larger and higher circles until it shot off in a northerly direction.
“Did you see that?” Isaac said proudly.
“It’s headed over there,” Melanie said. She pointed off to the north.
They all squinted and noticed the faint glint of a solitary beacon of hope in the pit of the night.
“Why didn’t we see that before?” she said.
The automaton came flapping down from the torrential night, like a crazed No Bearing fan. It hit Isaac in the middle of his chest and sent him crashing to the ground, spinning through the mud.
“At least it’s happy to see you,” muttered Sebastian.
They trudged off in the direction of the solitary light, with Isaac scrambling to catch up.
*
Melanie knocked on the door. She had to duck to fit in under the low roof on the strange shed located in the middle of nowhere. She craned under the eaves, and the water ran down the back of her neck, making her shiver. She was about to turn away when the door creaked open. There was no one standing behind it.
“Hello?” she called out. There was no response.
She peered in. The place appeared to be empty, as well as warm, tantalizingly dry, and peaceful. She took a step inside. No one shouted or attacked her so she took another step. The walls were covered in decorative hangings, and a thick carpet appeared to be attached to the ceiling. It dulled the incessant hammering of the rain to a gentle and soothing lullaby. She yawned, and indicated for the others to enter.
Isaac was looking intently at the images on the walls. He pointed at one showing four young people running in the rain being shot at by men in black holding guns that were firing light. He cleared his throat.
There was a loud cackle. They all spun around and faced the center of the room. There was no one there. Melanie felt Gavin’s hand on her shoulder. She turned to see a hideous old woman standing behind her. After several minutes of having to convince Isaac to come out from under the large chair, the group settled down.
“That was a colorful display of local language,” said the old woman. She was short and wrapped in rags. Her gray hair was tied up into a severe bun, and her eyes looked full of menace.
“You startled me,” Melanie replied as a way of explanation.
“Still, you could have entered several minutes beforehand and without the personal threats. Your young beau nearly hit the roof.” She indicated Gavin, who was trying to compose himself.
“I’m not used to people appearing out of thin air,” he said.
She laughed. “I didn’t appear out of thin air. I came in from the other room.”
“The one that we were all looking at,” Melanie said. “But you appeared behind us.”
“Yes …” the woman replied hesitantly. “Anyway, you look like you could use some shelter. Maybe a bite to eat?”
“Food?” whimpered Isaac. He still had not emerged from beneath the seat.
“I need to sit down,” Sebastian said. He looked tired beyond words.
“Yeah, me too,” added Gavin.
The two sat down on rugs and pillows piled against the wall. They both yawned and relaxed into the comfortable heaps.
“Gentlemen, give me your clothes. I shall dry them,” the old woman said.
Much to Melanie’s surprise they got up and removed their outer clothes, somewhat in a daze, and handed them over. They lay down and were asleep almost moments later.
“You too, young man under the chair,” the old woman said.
A bunch of clothes was thrown out and landed at her feet. And within seconds, a slight snoring came from Isaac’s direction as well.
“They must have been tired indeed,” muttered the old lady. “Help me with the task.”
“I normally have someone who does that for me,” Melanie said.
“Even in the cave?”
“How did you know about the cave?”
“I didn’t, you just told me.”
“Hang on, that’s very suspic—”
“Enough of this lighthearted chatter, we must dry the clothes.”
The old woman handed the soaking wet collection of garments to Melanie and motioned for her to follow. Through the archway lay a utilitarian room, stark and cold. There was a wide pillar in the center of the room that looked like an ancient tree trunk. Even without the carpet on the ceiling, the rain had a distant, smoothing quality, like it was happening a long way off. Melanie yawned again and blinked to keep her eyes open.
She saw in the corner of the room a large bronze contraption full of pipes, wheels and a large cylindrical drum.
“What’s that machine?” she asked, stifling another yawn.
A boiler was producing a steady head of steam, turning a paddlewheel, which in turn rotated a belt, which was attached to a large metal drum. It turned quietly with the occasional whump sound. An incredible amount of heat was pouring off the drum and boiler.
“It’s for the rapid drying of clothes. I call it the aeration-and-freshening-of-clothes device.”
“That’ll catch on.” Sarcasm dripped like unpleasant honey from Melanie’s voice. She fought against the drowsiness trying to claim her.
“You cannot stop the march of progress, child. You will learn that one day.”
The old woman wandered over to the device and pulled a lever. It came to a shuddering halt. She opened the door and steam billowed out of the drum. She signaled for Melanie to join her.
“Come, dear, help an old lady with crooked hands fold the clothes.”
“This machine seems like a lot of effort when you could simply hang your clothes up outside in the heat like everyone else does.”
“You cannot trust the air; it carries the voices of evil men. It soaks into the clothing if you leave it out. And then I hear their foul mutterings when I wear the clothes.”
The old lady withdrew Sebastian’s shirt and folded it neatly. She handed it to Melanie, who threw it on the floor. The old lady glanced over her shoulder to make sure Sebastian was asleep in the far room.
Melanie shook her head. She was being handed back clothes she couldn’t remember handing over.
“There’s not much I can tell you, but this I know for certain.” The old lady paused and closed her eyes. “You will meet your demise at his hands. Follow him and you will lose everything. Your heart. Your mind. Your body. And all that will be left will be your angry and bitter thoughts floating in the wind across the empty desert.”
Melanie looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor, unsure what to make of the prophecy.
“I’m sorry. Now pass me the basket. You’ll be given a chance to leave him. That’s the only way you can save yourself and what you truly love.”
“Do you mean Gavin?”
The old woman winked at her, and turned to leave. She disappeared behind the pillar.
“Hey, I was asking you a question. Why do old people always do that? Can’t start a sentence. Can’t finish one. Hey, come back.”
She walked around the pillar, and was confronted by the total absence of the old lady. She appeared to have disappeared. Melanie searched around the room several times, even knocking on the pillar to see if it had a secret entrance.
She turned and trudged back to the sleeping Sebastian. As she sat down, a vo
ice floated to her on the wind as if being shouted from a long way away: What you truly love. She assumed that meant Gavin. But she had conflict. With all her heart she wanted to protect Gavin, but she had sworn to protect Sebastian. She hoped she wouldn’t have to make a choice.
She rubbed her eyes. Something seemed wrong. The boys were asleep on the floor, breathing heavily.
“Dear child, you must be tired. Maybe you need some clean air. Come with me to the well, for we are without water.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Technically you’re not. But you are.”
“Technically you’re not an old, annoying bat. I don’t want to go out in the rain.” She could still hear it drumming away on the roof, with the deceptive lyrical tone that seemed to wash away your troubles.
“What rain?” said the old woman as she opened the door. They both stepped out into a cold night. Melanie’s breath billowed out in the frost. The night sky was clear and full of stars. Her mind was losing its fight against sleep and she stumbled forward, not noticing the strange land surrounding her.
“Many people will come and go over your coming battles, child, and it won’t always be clear who the enemy is. You’ll need to learn wisdom and trust your instincts. Otherwise dark times will come and take the land.”
“You’re the cheery one,” Melanie said. “Do you have anything positive to say?”
“You’ll have good weather for two days. Then heavy rains.”
“All in all, that doesn’t really balance out the doom-and-gloom, end-of-the-world stuff.”
“How about this. You’ll meet a tall, dark stranger, and fall in love.”
“I thought that already happened.”
“Child, what do you know of love? You haven’t felt the raw pain of loss, the eternal damnation of unrequited affection.”
“I think I preferred the weather report.”
“Nevertheless, much will rest on you. There will be times when you need to make decisions with your heart, and sometimes with your head. If you fail to do this, all will be lost.” She cackled and wandered off to the well. “So what do you think you’ll do?”
“About what?” The bucket was heavy in Melanie’s hands.
“Your oath. Will you keep your promise?”