by Migration
NINE
Masumichi Shikoba was still awaiting the arrival of some equipment to be installed in the lower-level lab area of his unique apartment-cum-arboretum, and in the meantime had been given the use of working space in an engineering research section of the Aurora’s college system. Nath Borden, who attended the Council as the representative of the Recruitment Board, which Masumichi dealt with extensively, called while Masumichi was alone in the office, studying a student paper on algorithms for resolving ambiguities in robotic vision. Humans just “knew,” for example, that the top of a lamppost seen protruding above the roof of a house probably wasn’t a part of the house, but to machines such things weren’t always so obvious. One of Masumichi’s experimental models had recently demolished a small maze of mirrors that it had tried to negotiate with its sonar ranging turned off.
“Are you alone?” Borden asked from the screen. His voice was oddly low and confidential.
“One moment.” Masumichi got up, went to close the office door, and returned. “What’s up?”
“There’s just been a special meeting. Things have started moving quickly, so there isn’t a lot of time right now. I’ll give you the full story later. It will be general knowledge very soon, in any case. Basically, news from the surface is that they might be planning to move against the bases in the next two or three days. The chief has started the countdown to flight readiness. Everything on the ground is being wrapped up. The last of our people down there should be aboard within twenty-four hours. This is it, Masumichi! We’re on our way!”
“Oh.”
Borden looked out of the screen searchingly for a few seconds, as if he had been expecting more of a reaction.
“That’s nice,” Masumichi obliged.
“There’s a piece of unfinished business that I’d like to try and take care of,” Borden went on. “One catch of fish out there that we haven’t netted.”
“The magician,” Masumichi guessed. He was the one who had nominated Korshak for recruitment, maintained contact with him, and then instigated the party’s escape. As far as Masumichi knew, they were the only ones left. The other late recruits from various places had all been brought in already and shuttled up to the ship as part of the precautionary planning for an early liftout.
“We had to wait for the wedding,” Masumichi said. “It was the only way.”
“I know,” Borden answered. “But I don’t like leaving loose ends. We can still get them here. I’d like you to handle it.”
In fact, Masumichi had been worried about Korshak and his companions, and meaning to raise the matter. But what could they do in this kind of time? He frowned. “Twenty-four hours? To get an aircraft assigned, fly it out there, and bring them back to Sofi? Would there even be shuttles leaving any of the ground bases by then?”
“Forget the bases,” Borden said. “As soon as the news goes out publicly up here, there’ll be a blackout on ground communications anyway. The carrier won’t be brought back up for another twelve hours.” He meant the Aurora’s mother craft for surface landers. They were smaller than the heavy-lift shuttles, more versatile, but without the range to make the Aurora’s orbital altitude. “We can use one of the landers again. They’re all being recalled to the carrier. I’ve already requisitioned one for you. Copying details.” A window appeared in a corner of the screen, showing the reference and a contact name in Surface Operations control.
“Got it,” Masumichi confirmed.
“Can I leave it with you, Masumichi? All of a sudden I’ve got a million things to take care of.”
“Sure….” Even as Masumichi said it, a distant, thoughtful look came into his eyes. His mind was racing ahead. This could have possibilities, he told himself. “Sure,” he said again, not noticing that the screen had already blanked out.
Masumichi had still been grappling with the problem of getting the rest of his family away after the threats if he didn’t change his mind about leaving. This could be the answer. It would be short notice for them, of course. But there were times in life when the chances that presented themselves had to be seized. Yes, this had possibilities indeed….
He addressed the screen in a louder tone. “Voice on. Tell 2D to step in here for a moment, please.” GPT-2D was the General Purpose Test robot that he had sent down to Tranth with Lois Iles, when she had been unable to obtain an aircraft for a time-critical mission and used a surface lander instead. The robot appeared in the doorway a few moments later from the lab area outside.
“Yes, chief?”
“The surface lander that you flew down to Tranth in not long ago.”
“Yes?”
Masumichi tilted his head curiously. “How many humans would you say you could get inside it?”
“Should I presume you mean of adult size? Not infants?”
A flicker of impatience crossed Masumichi’s face. “Yes, of course.”
“Hm. Let me see.” 2D rubbed its equivalent of a chin. The robots were programmed to mimic human mannerisms. People dealing with them found the familiarity reassuring. “Taking the average adult weight as 82 kilograms, and assuming a density for body tissue of 0.95 that of water, the indicated volume is 0.086 cubic meters. From the design specifications held in the ship’s databank, the volume of the passenger cabin works out at 33.3 cubic meters. So you’d be able to fit in 387 humans, rounded to the nearest integer…. I assume you didn’t want to include fractions of humans.” There was an expectant pause. “That was a joke.”
Masumichi sighed. “Forget it. Carry on with whatever you were doing.”
“Right, Chief.”
Masumichi waited until 2D had clumped out again, and then called Lois Iles, who was in another part of the ship, analyzing images from the observatory. “Lois, about that trip you made down to Tranth recently,” he said.
“Okay.”
“How many passengers could that surface lander take?”
“That’s an odd question that I’d never have won a prize for guessing.”
“You know me.”
She thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t exactly count the seats, but there were two on each side of the aisle, six or seven rows… let’s say six. That would give you twenty-four.”
This could work, Masumichi thought to himself. Allowing four for Korshak’s party, twenty would more than cover the short list that he’d drawn up. A few more could probably sit on the floor in the aisle and the door space if need be. “Thanks, Lois. Thank you very much,” he acknowledged.
She gave him a puzzled look. “Can I ask why you want to know?”
“Later, if you don’t mind. I’m pushed for time just at the moment. But all will be revealed in good time.”
“Well, okay…. Glad I was able to help.”
Masumichi cut the connection and brought back the details of the contact in Surface Operations that Borden had given him. Yes, this could work, he told himself again.
TEN
They were getting near the coast now, entering country that Korshak knew well. The hill track that they had been following descended to join a road that brought them to a stone bridge crossing a neck of water where a river entered a valley containing a long lake. Past the bridge, the road ran along the shore of the lake, now lying to their left, with grasslands and marsh extending away on the right. On the far side of the lake on one side, and beyond the flats on the other, the valley was hemmed in by steep slopes rising to rocky ridges. At the bottom end of the lake ahead of them, the valley narrowed to a steep-sided defile passing between two summits. From there on, the terrain opened out into the land of the Shengshoans, and Korshak estimated that by late tomorrow they should reach the port of Belamon.
The Shengshoans were a seafaring people, and their tall, four-masted ships were the swiftest ocean-goers of which Korshak had heard tell. He was known and liked among them, and he was gambling on there being an eastbound sailing to Merka that would take them to Sofi or land them close enough to get there within the two months that he had
been given. If they found themselves facing a wait at Belamon, things could be tight. But Korshak had seen no reason to burden the others with such concerns.
The ruts that had forced them to ride in single file since the bridge petered out as the ground became firmer, and Vaydien moved up to ride alongside him. Ronti was ahead, with Sultan running tirelessly this way and that to investigate some scent picked up in the wind, or to chase a bird or small creature hidden in the grass. Mirsto was in the rear, patiently following for hour after hour and saying little. Korshak had observed the signs of tiredness but not commented, and Mirsto didn’t complain. They were maintaining a slow but steady pace, sufficient to cover a reasonable day’s distance while at the same time sparing the horses. With no extra mount to fall back on, they couldn’t afford to exhaust any of them or run the risk of one going lame.
“Have you noticed that mountain ahead?” Vaydien waved an arm to indicate the left-hand summit at the end of the lake. “I thought that was a funny black cloud behind it. But now I think it’s smoke coming up from the top.”
“Yes, I’ve been watching it,” Korshak answered.
“What do you think it means?”
Korshak shrugged. “It’s too localized to be a scrub fire or anything like that. Looks more like some kind of beacon.”
“It couldn’t be a volcano, could it?”
“Ha-ha!” Korshak shook his head. “There would be lava flumes and sheets – a whole different appearance. That’s just a pile of old rock and rubble. Probably someone’s signaling to somewhere on the other side that he’ll be home tomorrow.”
Vaydien looked at the peak for a few moments longer, and then a solemn look came over her face. She turned her head down and stared unseeingly at the easy rise and fall of the horse’s head in front of her, her mind distant.
Korshak watched her and nodded. “Yes, it’s true. Very soon now, we won’t be seeing mountains and valleys again. But places like that are dry and dusty. They make you sweat and your back ache. We’ll have a world of more wondrous things, one filled with people who are as gods.”
Vaydien looked at him and forced a smile. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked.
“Oh, come. You know me well enough by now. Do you think I don’t really read minds?”
“I’m beginning to know when not to take you seriously. And I know that your magic is all trickery and mirrors.”
He looked at her keenly. “Well, take me seriously now, Vaydien. It isn’t too late if you’re having second thoughts. I have many friends among the Shengshoans who would get you safely back to Arigane. You have no regrets? You’re still sure about this?”
“Arigane.” Vaydien repeated the word with a shudder. “To be given as a chattel to a man I despise, in deceit until it pleases my father to betray him? A sacrifice to his vanity, as my mother was?” She reached out to lay a hand on Korshak’s arm and nodded decisively. “You need have no worries on that account. I am sure.”
“That’s good.”
Vaydien’s manner brightened. “So, tell me more about these wonders. What do you think the ship that crosses the sky might look like?”
“I don’t have to think. I can tell you. Imagine a giant wheel mounted in the center of an axle that tapers like the Pyramid Tower of Escalos, except that it’s round. But it holds a whole city within itself, and parks, and farms. Nay – cities!”
“How can you know this, Korshak?”
“The iron beast of which I have told you.” Korshak had described the strange artificial walking creature of the Builders that he had encountered almost two years previously in a remote region. “Through the window in which faces appeared, I was also able to see places inside the ship. They have palaces built from crystal and light; rooms that travel between floors of buildings; objects that move of their own accord. The center of Escalos would not compare to it as the rudest shanty hamlet in outermost Arigane compares to Escalos. And I have seen what our world looks like from… What’s this now?”
In front, Ronti had stopped and was peering ahead, with Sultan standing rigidly, ears pricked. Korshak and Vaydien drew up alongside him. A body of mounted figures had appeared in the distance, coming along the road in the opposite direction.
Zileg had waited many days for this moment. As he and his cavalry tracked the four fugitives through villages, over hills, and down valleys, he had planned in his mind the deaths by slow torment that he would devise for the whore, the charlatan who had bewitched her, his accomplice, and the addle-headed physician, when he brought them back to Urst. And if Shandrahl saw fit to make war over it, then so be it. It would only have been a matter of time anyway. Had the fool really imagined that Zileg wouldn’t see through his attempt at a subterfuge to buy time? Better now, while Zileg was of a temper for it.
The headman of a township they passed through had produced a map of the country bordering the Shengshoan lands, where the four were clearly heading – doubtless intending to take a ship from somewhere like Belamon. For several miles the road ran beside a lake through a narrow valley enclosed by steep ridges on both sides, with access only at the ends. The feature formed a natural trap. Zileg had slackened the pace of pursuit as they drew near, and sent a fast detachment of light horse circling around and ahead to cut off the exit. The column of black smoke, uninterrupted by infusions of white, above one of the peaks guarding the gorge at the far end of the lake told him that they had arrived, and the fugitives had been sighted. As he came with his main body of troops to the top of a rise from where the road led down to the stone bridge at the entrance to the valley, he called a halt to survey the way ahead.
His lieutenant, Ullatari, scanned the road beyond the bridge with a spyglass and reported. “No sign of them yet, sir.” Which meant that the fugitives were inside the valley, somewhere between the two forces. Exactly as planned.
“And no sign of any flying ship, either, I do believe,” Zileg said, looking up and about, his voice light with sarcasm. The younger half-sister, Leetha, had overheard Vaydien say something to Mirsto about a flying ship that the magician had told them they would escape in.
“Perhaps his magic is running out today,” Ullatari suggested.
“Along with his luck,” Zileg replied grimly. “Give the order to advance at canter.”
With the bridge secured, there would be no way out. He had them now!
Korshak lowered the glasses from his eyes. “Urst cavalry,” he announced shortly. On one side of him, Vaydien emitted a cry of dismay.
“It can only mean Zileg,” Ronti said. “He’s tracked us.”
“Worse,” Korshak answered. “If some have managed to get ahead of us, there are sure to be more behind. We have to get back over the bridge before they catch up.” Vaydien was shaking her head in protest and about to say something, but he stayed her with a wave. “Not now. Save your breath and just ride.” Mirsto had drawn up behind them, his eyes dull, without even the energy to ask what was happening. Korshak turned his horse about and gripped the old man’s elbow. “One more effort,” he urged. “We’re cut off forward. We have to make a run for the bridge. There will be more following.” Mirsto nodded. Ronti was already away at full gallop. Korshak waved for Vaydien to follow and shepherded Mirsto up to speed behind her. Then, after pausing to take in one more view of the approaching horsemen behind, he returned the glasses to his saddle pouch and spurred his horse forward again. Sultan, who had stopped and waited, bounded alongside.
Ahead, Vaydien was hunched low, all her concentration now on maintaining the pace. Korshak’s worry was with Mirsto, who was swaying unsteadily in his saddle and would slow them down even if they made it to the open country beyond the bridge. What kind of decision might Korshak be forced to make if their pursuers stayed with them and were seen to be gaining? He didn’t want to think about it.
They came to the softer part of the road, where the ruts reappeared, and were forced to slacken the pace. But on checking the road behind again, Korshak saw that the ho
rsemen had, if anything, fallen back. It was impossible for them not to have seen Korshak and his companions, yet they were in no hurry. The meaning of the smoke column was now painfully clear.
The reason for their pursuers’ confidence became evident when they came back within sight of the bridge and saw the cavalry waiting on the far side, pennants flying, formed up as a main unit blocking the road with flanking detachments standing to the sides. Ronti stopped, and looked back, hope gone from his face. Vaydien could only sit, frozen in horror, while Mirsto stared ahead blankly. They seemed to be waiting for Korshak to concede that it was over.
But Korshak was not looking at them, or at the bridge. Something else, above and beyond in the sky, had caught his eye. At first he had thought it was a bird, but it didn’t fly like any bird he’d ever seen – and it was growing larger at a rate faster than any bird could have. It didn’t seem to be a living thing at all, for it didn’t flap or flutter, but moved more like a ship, seen far from a shore. It was closer now, seemingly heading directly toward them as it came lower, as if it knew they were there…. Could it be possible? Surely not, Korshak told himself.
But already he was crossing and uncrossing his arms wildly above his head to attract attention. “Here! We’re right here!” he heard himself shouting. “That’s right! Just like that! Straight on down!”
Zileg, stationed in front of the center, smiled to himself as he watched. Alongside him, Ullatari frowned as he used his spyglass. “What’s come over him?” Ullatari murmured. “He seems to be signaling something urgent. I can hear him shouting.”
“Or making mystical passes and spells,” Zileg said. “Maybe he’s trying to summon his flying ship.” His mouth twisted into a sneer as he continued taking in the spectacle through his own glass. He evidently wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible. Then Ullatari became aware of the sounds of growing agitation among the troopers formed up behind them. At the same time, a low but steadily growing droning noise registered on his senses. The men were staring upward and gesturing. Ullatari raised his eyes to follow their gaze, and sent a startled look back at Zileg.