by Eyal Kless
“Let’s look around before we damage things unnecessarily, all right?”
Vincha looked at me like I was the most unreasonable man in the City of Towers. “Emilija is here,” she said again, and pointed at the doors, “inside.”
“That’s very good news,” I said slowly and deliberately. “Now let’s look around for another entrance before we decide to damage the house of her kind host, shall we?” I turned and walked away, and to my surprise they both followed. For just a brief moment it was like old times, me, a lowly secondary scribe of the Guild of Historians and the two veteran warriors at my side. Then we found the side door.
My sight made the door transparent to me and I saw an unkempt, elderly man, sitting at a table, surrounded by numerous empty wineskins and some plates laden with half-eaten food. A large, antique-looking revolver lay on the table, and there were also several owls and a goat roaming about. I raised a finger, then pointed in the direction of the man. Both Vincha and Galinak nodded and once I opened the door, they zigzagged their way in. I waited outside just to be sure no shots were fired, then I stepped in. I’d smelled worse, but the stench of goat dung and owl droppings was far from appealing. Galinak moved the revolver away from the reach of the old man, who seemed oblivious to what was happening around him, while Vincha disappeared into the next room. I heard her calling her daughter’s name from farther and farther away. I noticed that the single goat milling about was only half sheared, but I did not think it was a fact worth exploring at that moment. Instead, I approached the table as the man reached out to the nearest bottle, upturned it into his mouth, and swallowed the last drops that came out of it.
On closer observation, the man seemed younger than he looked, but he stank worse than the entire room.
I moved the rotting food away from him and sat myself down, trying to breathe through my mouth as much as I could.
“What is your name, Master?” I asked politely. I had to repeat the question two more times before his eyes focused on me.
“I can seeee you,” he said in a singsong tone, but he did not make eye contact.
“And I you,” I answered carefully. “Who might you be?”
“She said I couldn’t see, then she made me seeee.”
I gently squeezed the man’s arm to focus his attention. “Are you the SkyMaster?”
“Aye.” He looked up this time. He thumped his chest. “I am the SkyMonster . . . SSSkyMaster,” he corrected himself, then laughed as he repeated, “monster, master, monster.” He leaned forward and whispered, “She had a monster, you know.”
Vincha stormed back into the room, weapon in hand. “Where is my daughter?” She towered over the man. “Where is Emilija?”
The man smiled with surprisingly healthy teeth and made a flying motion with the palms of his hands. “She flew away, far away.”
“You lie.” Vincha aimed her gun at the man’s head. “I planted a device in her shoulder and I still sense her in this room. Talk now or I’ll make you regret every moment of the rest of your miserable short life.”
“Oh.” The man chuckled, clearly not intimidated. “That. The woman said it would only hurt a little if she cut Emilija with the sharp knife, but Emilija said to use the chair below.”
Nelsohn’s words echoed in my mind: People talk about the SkyMaster because of that chair.
The man slurred on, “So they went below and took out this thing and the man said I should carry it, but the woman said I was no good.”
“A woman and a man?” I asked carefully.
“Yes. A woman.” He focused back on me, then pointed at Vincha. “They are not allowed, you know, on these grounds, but she was fast and mean. Very, very fast.”
This was not making sense. “What happened next?” I asked, signalling Vincha to lower her weapon. To my surprise she obliged me yet again and leaned forward on the table, looking suddenly exhausted.
The SkyMaster pointed at something behind my shoulder but when I turned around all I saw was the half-sheared goat.
“Oh,” I said as Galinak went to check the creature.
“It’s in there,” he said after a moment, to the goat’s annoyed bleating. “I can see the mark.”
She found the disc and planted it in the goat. It means she knew someone else is looking for Emilija.
Plates and bottles shook as Vincha banged her fist on the table.
“Where did they go?” I asked.
“They flew away,” the man answered, using the same words again. “I begged her not to go. I begged. I, SkyMaster of the Sky Watchers order, begged her to stay. But she said she needed to leave, to see the Great Pattern of her dreams, or something.”
Vincha and I exchanged a meaningful stare. Rafik and Pikok had both spoken of the great wall of symbols and solving a final pattern. This was how Tarakan lured Puzzlers back into the City Within the Mountain. The fact that Emilija had used the same expressions as Rafik and the estranged Puzzler Pikok spoke volumes.
“How did they fly away? Where did they go?”
“They pulled down the weather balloon. That was the woman’s idea. It used to come down with a touch of a button, but then it broke and no one could fix it. It had to be brought down by turning the small wheel. It used to take a whole day to take it down, but Emilija fixed it.” The SkyMaster’s eyes shone. “She touched the metal box and spoke to it and suddenly the balloon came down all by itself.”
“And they left you here?” I asked incredulously. It did not make sense to leave the man alive.
“The man in the strange hat, he wanted me dead. He pulled his gun on me, but Emilija and the woman said no, and the monster stood by their side and they left me here to feed the goat and wait for you.” He looked at Vincha. “You are her mother.”
It wasn’t a question but Vincha simply nodded.
“Emilija is very special,” the SkyMaster said softly, and to my surprise Vincha’s chin suddenly trembled slightly as she nodded again, speechless.
From Vincha’s betrayal of Rafik to the loss of the Hive and the war and decline which followed, all of it happened because of one woman’s disastrous and misguided actions, out of love for her daughter.
“She asked me to tell you not to follow her. That if you do”—the Sky Master closed his eyes and recited—“you will never come back to this world.”
“That rust-headed, stubborn girl.” Vincha straightened up. “If she thinks I am just going to let her waste her life away, I’ll storm the City Within the Mountain myself.”
“She is not going to the Valley,” I answered, leaning back in my seat. “The other agent is working for Mannes, who wants Emilija to strengthen Cain. I have talked to enough people who knew him and survived to tell the tale, and it is only reasonable that they would take her to the Star Pillar.”
“The whole land there is contaminated,” Galinak said.
“Yet Mannes has been holed up there for several years, I hear,” I answered. “Past the Broken Sands. It would be a hard journey, impossible for an army.” I couldn’t but smile at the irony. When my LoreMaster mentioned the Star Pillar I promised myself that if I ever made it through my adventure in one piece, I’d visit this last surviving wonder of the old world. It seemed that now, after actually dying, I was going to fulfil that promise.
“They did fly south,” the SkyMaster said suddenly. He seemed to be slowly sobering up. “And the weather balloon was meant to carry instruments, not passengers. They would not be able to fly far.”
“How long ago did all of this happen?” I asked.
The man shrugged as he tried to mentally calculate. “Two, three days, perhaps more.”
Vincha swore. “I’m turning the shark around,” she said to me. “If you’re not inside it by the time I’ve turned, I’m leaving you here.”
She stormed out and I nodded at Galinak. “Go help her manoeuvre,” I said, “and make sure she does not leave without me.”
Galinak winked at me. “Aye, boss, but the look on her face, I’ve seen it before.
You’d better not linger.” He placed the old gun back on the table, tapped his forehead in a lazy salute towards the SkyMaster, and left. I had precious little time alone with the man.
I leaned forward towards him. “Was there really a monster?”
The man nodded. “It was hideous, out of this world. I’ve never seen or heard about anythng like that.”
There was only one thing that could fit the description.
“Did it look like a Lizard?” I asked.
The SkyMaster thought about it for a moment. “Well, perhaps, but also human, although it was much bigger than a human, all claws and scales, and its face . . .” He visibly shuddered.
“And she talked to it?”
“Yes. It knelt before her and obeyed her commands—even the man and the woman were surprised by it. I heard them talk about it.” He took a small, rectangular-shaped item out of his pocket and slid it towards me. “Take it, please.”
I took the item. It was light but firm to the touch. “What is it?”
“It is called a memory stick,” he answered. “Inside are weather and star movement reports for the last hundred years. The SkyWatchers order has been doing this since before the old world came to an end. It was our holy duty to preserve this knowledge, but there is no one left here to go on doing this. My personal logs are also in there.” He chuckled. “Most of them are just the ravings of an old, lonely man.”
“What about you?” I asked as I stood up.
“Do you know what it means to grow old?” For the first time since I’d stepped into the stinking hall, the SkyMaster’s eyes had a sharper, clearer look as he stared into mine. “To lose your strength and your teeth and your hearing and sight and eventually your mind to loneliness? No? You seem young enough not to have experienced it, but wise enough to know it’s coming.”
I shook my head as he continued. “That chair could have saved Millbored, for sure, but nothing worked properly in this place until Emilija came. Now that she is gone, the chair will not heal my bones, the villagers will not send food, and it will be cold and hunger all over again.”
“There is a young man by the gate,” I said. “He seems resilient enough and eager to work. You could keep him here. Teach the lad letters and numbers, keep your order alive.”
He slumped back. “Why would he or his family agree? And besides, what’s the damned use of it all? I was born to believe that soon our lot would change, that things would go back to the way they were before, but they never will, will they?”
“I’m afraid change will happen slower than one lifetime,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean that what you did here is meaningless. You gave me something precious. I will do my utmost to make the best of this knowledge.”
The SkyMaster took a deep breath and looked around. “Damn, this place needs a bit of cleaning. You said the lad outside wants to work? Send him in. I might have some coins somewhere around here. Pleasant may you be.”
I left and hurried back outside and out the gate, where Vincha was still delicately manoeuvring the shark around with Galinak’s assistance.
Nelsohn was standing a little farther away, and he looked at me as I approached. He seemed to be done with the puking but was eyeing the shark with clear trepidation.
“Here, for your troubles.” I placed a few more towers into his palm. “Go inside and—”
We all heard the shot.
Galinak whistled softly. “Bukra’s balls, I didn’t think that old revolver could shoot anymore. Guess I was wrong.”
I sighed and patted pale Nelsohn on his shoulder. “Go inside, son. Bury what needs to be buried and take what is worth taking.”
We left him at the gate as the three of us sped down the mountain.
Chapter 61
Peach
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Better, now that we are flying lower,” Sergiu answered in a light tone, but his hands betrayed his nervousness by gripping the sides of the platform a little too tightly.
I looked up, checking the helium balloon as my hands brushed the controls. It was built to survive tough conditions for years, from harsh weather to a direct lightning strike, but there was a limit to how much weight it could carry. We were losing power and altitude, the latter not necessarily a bad thing. The freezing wind was affecting us all.
We should have killed the old man. That was standard procedure, and Sergiu’s attempted action was logical. There were others looking for Emilija, and this SkyMaster could point them in the right direction, or they might deduce it by themselves. The poor man was so distraught by the notion of Emilija leaving, I didn’t think he would have cared if Sergiu had shot him. But on instinct rather than cool thinking, I stopped Sergiu from pulling the trigger. We argued, but then Emilija broke her odd silence to tell us that the SkyMaster should live. The Lizard was just standing next to her, hissing strangely. I had no idea whether or not he was capable of fully understanding what was going on, but I was pretty certain he would have obeyed any command given by Emilija. Facing such odds, Sergiu simply shrugged and holstered his gun saying, “That’s a mistake, Peach.”
“The girl is attached to him, don’t you see?” I tried to rationalize my actions. “Killing him would make her uncooperative and besides, I’d rather only kill if I truly must.”
The balloon was my idea, and by the look on Sergiu’s face, he was regretting agreeing to that idea more than not killing the SkyMaster.
I turned my head and watched the desert stretch underneath us.
“You mentioned earlier this did not exist in your time,” Sergiu suddenly remarked.
“No. We had conquered the deserts of this land long ago,” I answered, surprised there was so much bitterness in my voice. Adaptation to new circumstances was a big part of my training.
“This area actually used to be the breadbasket of the land. Miles upon miles of crops engineered to withstand disease and nourish humanity.” I glanced at the man standing by my side. “In my time, energy was not the biggest problem this planet faced—food and water was.”
“And the desert conquered the area back while you were gone. Such is the power of nature.”
“No. This desolation is man-made. All sides had terrible weapons in their possession. Bombs that were carried by missiles crossed the planet and exploded above these grounds, sucking all life and moisture away. The infamous sinkholes of the Broken Sands you told me about were probably caused by those weapons.”
“So much disaster,” Sergiu muttered as I turned my head and watched the Star Pillar’s silhouette to the south. At least there was not much need for the useless navigational instruments. There were no satellites in the sky, but the Star Pillar was all I needed to see. At night it was easier to navigate as the Pillar’s external nanodefence sleeve shined even brighter.
Sergiu, on the other hand, was staring at Emilija, who was standing with her back to us, watching the desert we were crossing. As instructed, she did not move from her spot; both she and the Lizard, who stood motionlessly by her side, counterweighted Sergiu and myself.
“Can you believe it?” he whispered.
“Yeah, that’s the big elephant in the room.”
He looked at me, puzzled. “What’s an elephant?”
I sighed. This was not the time to talk about extinct creatures. “Never mind. It’s just an old expression. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this . . . creature roamed around in the wilderness until he found Emilija and now she claims she is able to understand him. This whole weird business just got weirder, and I hope your Mannes can explain what’s going on.”
To my surprise, Sergiu shook his head. “I don’t think even Mannes can explain this one. He is of the old world, and understands many things, but this . . . this is a new thing. He’ll be happy to see it, though; he was always intrigued by new . . . phenomena.”
“You seem to know Mannes well.” I watched as Sergiu reerected his mental defences.
“I know him a little, yes.”
“Any advice?”
“Don’t cross him. Don’t stand in his way. I never met a man or a woman who was even half his age or possessed half his will. He simply does not waste time if he can make a decisive move. Do you understand me?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.” But I was thinking, In short, this Mannes is a homicidal maniac and his underling is preparing me for it.
“And the girl? What will happen to her?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” Sergiu admitted, “but she seems to be very important to him.”
“A man survives the war that annihilated civilisation on Earth—or the Catastrophe, as you call it—and stays alive all these years just to save mankind. What do you think keeps him going?”
Sergiu shrugged. “I never thought about this question.”
“Obsession? Revenge? Or guilt, perhaps?”
“Love?” Sergiu shrugged, a shadow of a smile crossing his face. He did not believe it, either.
I turned to stare straight into the man’s eyes. “This whole damned business has nothing to do with Tarakan, does it? You just woke me up from the dead and manipulated me to do your dirty work.”
He met my gaze and held it. “I assure you, Colonel Major, that Mannes is the last hope humanity has.” Even if that statement was true, it was a deflection.
And in that moment, I knew the man was lying, or at the very least not telling me a crucial part of the truth. Which was too bad, because I had almost grown to like Sergiu the Dying. He reminded me of my former self, and of other men and women who fought the dirty war of shadows. But at that particular moment I knew we were playing on different sides of the table, and perhaps even a totally different game.
I turned my attention back to the young woman standing only a few paces away from me, and I guess some of her instincts still worked because she suddenly turned her head back towards me. Our eyes met. My training and condition stopped me from doing what was natural in these circumstances, which was to avert my gaze. Emilija, on the other hand, was seeing something completely different. It wasn’t that she was looking through me, more like she was seeing me in an entirely different way. It was disconcerting and had the vessel I was occupying been my own body my reaction to her stare would have probably manifested in a shudder.