Water was no problem, for rain had fallen seven times in those twenty days; the channels in the jeweled sea acted as drainage spouts for the storm, gushing white water up to their ankles. They found it a simple enough matter to fill their containers whenever this happened.
Food was a knottier problem, for they rapidly depleted what Tedesco had packed and what Jask had crammed into the gray cloth sack in the warehouse. Tedesco used the power rifles to shoot at some of the larger birds that nested in the jewels and that sometimes flew low over the roof of a clearing. Now and then he bagged one of them, though the power bolt often tore them or charred them so badly that they were not fit to eat. The bruin eventually rationed his own food and cut back on his intake, but continued to force Jask to consume his limit and then some.
One night, when he had eaten more than Tedesco and thought he saw a glint of hunger in the mutant's dark eyes, Jask said, “This isn't right. It's plain that you've lost twenty pounds during the last two weeks, while I've been gorging myself.”
“Don't forget,'' Tedesco said, “that you're the one doing all the exercises; you need to eat more than I do.”
“That doesn't alter the fact that you're beginning to look positively emaciated.”
“I can stand the loss,'' Tedesco growled, though his coat of fur was hanging loosely on him, as if he had purchased it two sizes too large in some odd clothing store.
“I could stop exercising for a while and cut back on what I eat.”
“No,” Tedesco said. “We'll be out of these jewel formations soon, and we'll find wildlife and fruit, berries and nuts and vegetables enough for an army.”
“Will we?” Jask asked, clearly disbelieving.
“Yes.”
“In the Wildlands?”
“Why not?”
“How do you know that anything that grows in the Wildlands is safe to eat?” Jask inquired.
Tedesco harumphed and said, “Don't come on with that religious crap again, please. Not everything that grows and walks in the Wildlands is evil or poisonous. The place may be less hospitable than the lands we come from, but it is not the private domain of any supernatural being like the Ruiner.”
“But you've never been even this far into the Wildlands,” Jask persisted. “How can you be sure what lies ahead?”
Tedesco stood and slapped his meaty hands together. “Let's go, my friend. It's time to give you a little training in the martial arts. I think tonight we'll try teaching you the fundamentals of wrestling.”
Despite the fact that Tedesco was half-starving himself, he pinned Jask Zinn with little trouble, repeatedly, laughing loudly every time he triumphed, immensely pleased with himself.
As the days passed, the soft flesh in Jask's arms and legs became stringy, then tough and taut, with balls of hard muscles where — Tedesco said — a man should have them. He had put on twenty pounds for those the bruin had lost, without adding any fat. His stomach was flat. A few thin bands of muscle tissue had begun to cross his stomach, creasing it in tight ripples. He was still no match for many of the men who existed outside the Pure enclaves, but he was at least adequate to the challenge that lay ahead. And he had come to take pride in his fitness, something he would have thought impossible. He liked the look of his new arms and was not the least disgusted by this reversion to primitiveness.
Because his afternoon exercise sessions were strenuous and caused him to perspire rather heavily, Jask had taken to going nude during those times, and he had been steadily baked by the sun to a healthy golden brown, which did as much as all his newfound muscles to improve his looks.
Thirty-four days after they entered the jewel sea in flight from the Pure soldiers, they stepped from the end of a light-splashed corridor and found that they had walked the breadth of the blazing ocean and were now standing on its far shore, coruscating aureoles of light cascading down their backs. Before them lay a long, broad meadow carpeted in tall grass and buttercups, ringed in by dark, broad-leafed trees. The scene was so placid and common they might not have been in the middle of the Chen Valley Blight at all. As they walked forward, glad for the refreshing softness of the damp grasses, it seemed to Jask as if the jewel sea had been more than the first leg of their journey, had been a spiritual obstacle, the stage for a strange rite of passage that was to indicate whether either of them deserved to go on and, especially, to decide on the value and degree of his own manhood.
At several points the meadow was broken by thrusting limestone rocks, which, worn by wind and rain, curved and hollowed to look like folded gray cloth, provided excellent campsites for the travelers. Tedesco chose a three-peaked formation two-thirds of the way down the meadow, and here they dropped all their supplies.
“The first order of business,'' the bruin said, “is to replenish our food supply. Let's investigate these woods for fruit trees.”
Within a hundred yards of the forest's edge they found wild pears, huge raspberries and a species of apple that was purple instead of red and oval rather than round. They filled two sacks with these fruits, determined not to become paranoid about the possibilities of organic poisoning, anxious to enjoy the change in diet they had both desired for some long days now.
As they were carting their spoils back to their camp in the limestone, they flushed a herd of rabbitlike animals. The fat, furry creatures made noise like birds, chittering to each other as they skittered away on six firm legs, breaking from the cover of the trees into the meadow grass.
“Protein,” Tedesco said.
“The power rifles?” Jask whispered.
Tedesco thought a moment. “They didn't run very far before they stopped; they're apparently stupid animals. I'd prefer if we could sneak up on them and use throwing knives. We'd not be wasting meat like we would firing power bolts.”
They circled away from the place where they thought the rabbit herd was cowering in the thickness of green grass, returned to the camp, retrieved their throwing knives, and made their way back again by an altogether circuitous route.
“Quietly, now,” Tedesco said.
But Jask needed no warning. They crept toward the slightly angled patch of grass and, shortly, were able to see a dozen of the animals nibbling at the roots of the buttercups.
“Choose one,” Tedesco said.
Jask pointed.
“Good enough. Don't miss.”
Neither of them missed.
The herd thundered away, chittering.
They gutted the dead animals on the spot, skinned them and carried them back to the camp, where they roasted them over a fire of dry branches and brittle blue moss. They ate slowly, relishing the greasy meat, and they followed the main course with fruits and berries, eating until they were quite uncomfortable.
In the past two days they had both gone hungry, for the last of their food had had to be fiercely rationed and few birds had flown over their camps to provide them with extra meat.
“You gutted and skinned like a genuine primitive.'' Tedesco said, speaking cautiously, watching Jask for a reaction.
“I only followed your directions,” Jask said, picking at his teeth with a stiff grass stalk.
“A couple of weeks ago,” the mutant said, “I wouldn't have thought you were capable of even that.”
“I wasn't, then.”
Tedesco nodded and dropped the subject. An hour later, Jask cursing him all the while, he called the exercise session to order.
The meadow was silent, except for the punctuation of cricket songs and the occasional howl of some beast that lived in the nearby woods.
A cool breeze shushed through the broad leaves on all sides and made the grasses bend and dance as if in worship of the night sky.
Many stars shone, and half a moon.
In the distance the bacteria jewels cast out lances of light to jab back the night. Most of the meadow was tinted with thin colors, though it was more dark than not. This was the first time in more than a month that Jask and Tedesco had been far enough away from the jewe
l sea to experience anything resembling darkness, and the absence of all those dazzling colors, so close at hand, was a decided blessing. Moments after they stretched out on the grass beside the limestone boulders, they were already beginning to drift into sleep…
Here was peace, a place they could trust…
Out of nowhere, with no warning, a voice twenty times as powerful as any a man could own, bellowed: “GAMES TO BEGIN!”
Jask and Tedesco leaped to their feet, sleep banished in the instant, turning this way and that in search of the enormous creature that had so much vocal power.
“NIGHT GAMES ON SITUATION KK.” The voice spoke in flawless English, a language that had survived almost intact from prewar days, thanks to the Pures' dedication to the preservation of prewar artifacts and ideas.
“What is this?” Jask wanted to know.
Tedesco waited, peering into the shadowy land around them.
“PARTICIPANT MECHANICALS PREPARED.”
“Something's moving out there,” Tedesco said, pointing into the vaguely colored darkness.
“GENERAL PROGRAM INDICATED, INDIVIDUAL MECHANICAL INITIATIVE TO INDUCE CHANCE FACTORS.”
Jask peered in the direction Tedesco was pointing, but he could not see anything there. “That's a machine talking,” he told Tedesco. “We have talking machines in the fortress, but none with voices so loud. Still, the very careful intonation is proof it's a machine.”
“BLUE FOR OFFENSIVE. RED FOR DEFENSIVE.”
“What's it babbling about?” Tedesco asked.
“I can't guess.”
The bruin grunted and pointed again, “Out there, toward the back of the meadow. See them?”
Jask saw them: fifty men advancing toward them, spread across the width of the open land.
“Better get the rifles,” the bruin said, stepping into the shelter of the gray boulders and grabbing up the two power guns. He came back and handed a weapon to Jask.
“They have rifles, too,” Jask said. “They can't be Pures, not here in the Wildlands.”
“Whoever they are, they aren't friends.”
Six of the front-rank soldiers fell forward, raised their guns and fired rapidly. Violet bolts of light sizzled along the length of the field, passed Jask and Tedesco with ten yards to spare.
“Terrible shots,” Jask said.
A group of soldiers split from the main pack and ran toward the woods under cover of a line of limestone rocks. Once in the trees, they ran forward in doubletime, hurried past Jask and Tedesco's post and on toward the open end of the meadow, as if their enemy lay that way.
Tedesco lowered his rifle and said, “Did you see them? Dressed in bright blue clothes, carrying blue rifles? I don't think they even know we're here.”
“Then what—”
At that moment half a dozen red-clad soldiers, toting red weapons, clambered into the limestone ring where Jask and Tedesco had made camp. They paid no heed to the espers, trod across the bulging rucksack and the fresh fruit that had been picked earlier in the day. Pears, apples and berries squashed beneath their feet. They took up positions at breaks in the limestone and began firing on the blue soldiers.
“INADEQUACY OF FORWARD MOVEMENT NOW PUTS BLUE ON DEFENSIVE AND RED ON OFFENSIVE.''
“I don't understand at all,” Jask said.
“I think I do,” Tedesco said. He walked up to the nearest red soldier and tapped him on the shoulder.
The soldier kept shooting at the enemy.
Tedesco tapped harder.
The soldier ignored him.
Tedesco lifted the steel barrel of his rifle and slammed it down on the top of the soldier's head.
The soldier didn't flinch.
Jask walked over and inspected the shallow dent in the top of the red soldier's head. He said, “They're just machines.”
“Unquestionably,” Tedesco said.
At that moment half a dozen blue soldiers appeared from the open end of the field, entered the limestone-circled camp behind the red troops holding it, and deactivated the enemy with several bursts of violet light. The six red troopers tottered a moment, without uttering a word of surprise or pain, then fell over with loud, metallic clanging noises. These triumphant intruders, Jask realized, were those who had earlier split from the main body of the blue army, had entered the woods and circled behind the advancing red soldiers.
“BLUE CAPTURES A VITAL STRONGHOLD AND STRENGTHENS ITS POSITION ON THE SOUTH END.”
“Some ancient form of entertainment?” Jask asked.
“More likely, a training ground for military strategists,” the bruin said. “The disembodied giant's voice you hear is to call observers' attention to special points of interest. The machines are set up to fire only at their own kind, with beams that probably wouldn't hurt a man. And since they ignore us altogether, while carefully avoiding us, we are able to walk among them for firsthand observation.”
A blue soldier, bent over to avoid the crisscrossing plentitude of purple lightning bolts, dashed for the opening to the limestone formation, gingerly sidestepped Jask and Tedesco as if they were not there, and joined his clockwork comrades behind the palisades. His face was set in a caricature of courage and determination, the steel lips tight, the glittering eyes staring straight ahead.
“HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT INITIATED BY RED COMMANDO UNIT AT SOUTHWEST CORNER. THREE BLUE MECHANICALS INACTIVATED. RED LOSSES: ONE.”
“But what started all this going?” Jask wondered.
“Perhaps our presence did it,” Tedesco said. “Or maybe there are regular mock battles here all the time. I've noticed that some of the robots are in good repair, while others are dented, rusted, and some are missing parts of their bodies.”
As if anxious to provide an example of what Tedesco had said, another blue soldier shambled up to join his fellows in the limestone ring. He was missing his right foot and one bright eyeball, but seemed undeterred by his injuries.
“I have a feeling this might go on all night,” Jask said. Around them the soldiers clanked, fired sizzling bolts of light, all to the booming commentary of the unseen announcer.
“There's one way to be sure it doesn't,” Tedesco said. He lifted his power rifle and destroyed the nearest blue soldier. The blast did not merely deactivate it, but tore it in two. “We'll make sure that one side or the other wins as quickly as possible.”
Jask grinned. “Shall we begin?”
They wiped out the blue soldiers who had intruded into their campsite. None of the mechanicals offered a defense or even seemed to be aware that they were under attack by anyone but the red army.
“MAJOR COUP BY THE RED FORCES. CREATIVE STRATEGY AS YET UNANALYZED. MORE TO FOLLOW.”
“I see about a dozen blue soldiers over there,” Jask said, pointing, leading the way.
They sauntered across the field, violet streaks of light hissing by them, mechanical soldiers engaged in hand-to-hand combat on both sides, and they destroyed fifteen of the blue soldiers, leaving their red enemies standing stupidly in the tall grass, looking this way and that, perplexed.
“UNPRECEDENTED CROSSFIRE INITIATED BY RED FORCES, INFLICTING CATEGORY AB LOSSES ON BLUE. MORE TO FOLLOW.”
Ten minutes later Tedesco stepped in front of the last blue unit and charred it into a smoking lump of metal and plastic. “That's that,” he said, lowering the rifle.
“Now what?”
“We'll wait and see.”
For five minutes the surviving red soldiers stood dumbly where they were or took a few tentative steps in search of the enemy only to stop in confusion when their visual and audio receptors informed them that no blue survived.
At last the giant's voice said: “NIGHT GAMES CONCLUDED. VICTORY TO RED. BLUE SUFFERS UTTER DEFEAT. NO SURRENDERS. DETAILED ACCOUNTING OF INDIVIDUAL BATTLE INITIATIVE, AS APPLIED TO THE GENERAL PLAN, CATEGORY SITUATION KK, WILL BE OFFERED ON A PRINTOUT TO INTERESTED STRATEGY STUDENTS AS SOON AS TAPES OF THE ENCOUNTER ARE ANALYZED.”
At the closed end from which the
blue army had originally come, squares of bright light appeared in the darkness, like doors opening magically in the air and giving access to secret, unseen rooms. Indeed, when Jask and Tedesco walked down there to have a look, they found that this was more or less the case. Four large elevator cabins had risen out of the meadow and were waiting for the mechanical soldiers to come aboard. The red troops filed into them, as did a few blue troopers who had been deactivated by the violet light beams and not utterly destroyed by Jask's and Tedesco's power rifles.
The last of the undamaged soldiers stepped into the elevators.
The doors remained open.
“UNITS MISSING,” the giant said.
The night was quiet.
“MUCH HIGHER THAN AVERAGE ACTUAL LOSS AMONG MECHANICAL BATTLE UNITS. ANALYSIS OF WEIGHTS IN RETURNING LIFTS INDICATES THIRTY-NINE UNITS MISSING.” There was a light humming sound while the disembodied voice thought things over. Then: “EXPLANATION INCLUDED IN PRINTOUTS, POST-BATTLE ANALYSIS. STUDENTS MAY HAVE ACCESS TO THIS DATA.”
The doors slid shut.
The elevators sank into the earth. The roofs were covered with plugs of earth and grass and blended perfectly with the meadow surrounding them, although, Jask soon discovered, the grass was plastic and the earth beneath was painted concrete.
“Maybe we should have taken a ride down there to see what's under us,” he told Tedesco.
“And we'd never be let out again.”
Nightmare Journey Page 9