Getting back

by William Dietrich

  "They won't," he said, and pointed shakily.

  The Warden followed his finger. The activator to penetrate the jamming was sitting on the cabin floor. He sprang forward and grabbed it, suddenly exultant. Yes! "He dropped it?"

  "He clobbered me with it. I would have had him otherwise."

  "They can't signal without this, right?"

  Ico looked at the spreading flames, smoke boiling out. They could hear the confused shouts of the rest of the compound as it was roused by the fire.

  "Not here. Not unless she's lied to us again." Why had Dyson thrown away the means of escape? Desperation at his own clumsy attack? Or something more? "But now they have the transmitter. So we can't signal without them, either."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The fugitives rendezvoused at a dry creek bed in a side canyon where Amaya had cached their packs. Behind them was a confused yelling and the glow of fire. The three men were scraped and bruised from hastily sliding down the rear of the rock tower, Tucker limping painfully from a sprain. The women were panting. When they'd slipped by the cluster of boulders where they'd originally planned to meet, they saw more of Rugard's men waiting there and ran. Ico had obviously told the Warden where their supplies were supposed to be stored. It was good Amaya had moved them.

  "Little snitch," Raven now muttered.

  "Are they going to burn?" Amaya asked worriedly, looking back at the flickering orange.

  "Just held up a bit, and angry as hornets. We have to move fast if we're going to get away and signal for rescue. You've got it, right?" She turned to Daniel.

  "How did you know to pen them in like that?" he asked her instead.

  "When Ico disappeared I got suspicious. Then I found the activator was gone. Amaya and I got a log to brace the door shut."

  "But you let them lower me into the cabin anyway."

  "Yes. Because we needed the transmitter. If I'd warned you off, our position would be hopeless. Now we can still get back."

  "Don't you mean you can get back?"

  "Ethan and I are your best hope."

  "You're ruthless, you know that?"

  "I'm practical. Besides, it was your friend who betrayed you, not mine."

  Daniel was quiet at that.

  "Can we just go, please?" Tucker said impatiently.

  They shouldered their gear and fled into the canyon of the women's camp, brushing by a few confused occupants who'd turned out groggily at the noise and confusion. They paused at a cook hut to snatch a last few bites of food, but even as they did they heard the call of a cattle horn. One of the women was blowing an alarm to relay their direction, so they hurried on. As the fugitives reached the end of the canyon they saw the torchlight of a posse entering its head. Many of the convicts were drunk or unconscious, but not all.

  "We're in a race," Tucker panted. "I'm slowing you down."

  "Amaya's cooked up something to slow them down," Raven replied.

  "If it works," the second woman said.

  They entered a gorge at the upper end of the women's valley. The defile wasn't much more than a slit in a huge rock that looked like it had been split asunder, but it was a door leading to the desert east of Erehwon. Narrow as a corridor in places, the cleft's floor was sand and its lower reaches stained dark where past floodwaters had swirled through. Only a wedge of sky with a scattering of stars, hundreds of feet above, shed any light. Ethan and Raven had used the passageway to slip away before and now were using it again, but this time pursuit was only a mile behind.

  "What will they do if they catch us?" Tucker asked, limping along.

  "I've been through this before," Ethan said. "We get away, or we kill ourselves. Surrendering is not an option."

  A fall of rock had almost plugged the slit at its midway point with a wall of boulders difficult to climb over. Floodwaters had carved a low sandy tunnel under the rocks that Raven and Ethan had earlier crawled through.

  "This is the place I told you about," Raven said to Amaya.

  The other woman nodded. She stooped to dig in her pack as they paused to catch their breath. They could hear the calls of pursuit behind them, like the baying of hounds.

  "Why are we stopping?" Daniel asked. "We have to move."

  "Raven and I think we might slow them down with this," Amaya said. She took out a leather skin shaped roughly like a sphere and slightly smaller than a basketball. Cord and a coating of hardened fat helped seal the outside.

  "What the devil is that?"

  "It's a bomb." She announced it as proudly as she would a baby.

  The men looked at her in confusion.

  "I got the idea when we saw the stables. If we set this off at the right moment it should block this gorge and scare hell out of them too. It will buy us time."

  "You're serious, aren't you?" said Tucker.

  "Remember the sulfur spring? That was one ingredient of gunpowder. Have you ever made it?"

  "Not in the last couple of days."

  "It's simple, really. All you need is sulfur, charcoal, and potassium nitrate in the right proportions."

  "Charcoal?" Tucker asked.

  "From the fires. Nitrate from the urine deposits in the stables. Calcium nitrate, actually, which works in a pinch." She regarded her invention. "Maybe."

  "Tomorrow she splits the atom," Daniel said. "How do we use it?"

  "In the tunnel. The explosion should collapse it, and maybe jar more rock loose besides. I'll wait to light it."

  "No," said Tucker quickly. "I'll do it."

  "It's my idea, Tucker. My risk."

  He shook his head. "I'm the slowest, with this bum ankle, and the strongest. They'll hesitate with me." Tucker looked up at the sky, a slim silver band high above. "This is the pass to make a stand, I think. Like Daniel's Spartans."

  "What?"

  He sounded excited. "The Greeks and the Persians! Remember, Daniel?"

  "Tucker, you're not a damned Spartan."

  "How do I know if I've never tried?"

  "You have no training!"

  He looked back down the defile. "It's the perfect place, the perfect time, and the perfect person."

  Daniel looked at him worriedly.

  "I'll back them up a bit, light the explosive, and run," Tucker reassured. "Or at least hobble. With any luck they'll decide we're not worth chasing."

  There wasn't time for argument. "All right. Light it and crawl like hell. We'll be waiting on the other side."

  "No, don't wait! Make all the distance you can! I'll catch up!"

  "He's right," Ethan said, dropping to the sand to wriggle through. "We can't risk any delay."

  Raven went next and Amaya ducked to follow.

  Daniel put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "You be sure to come, promise?"

  "I've got to see the rest of Australia." He grinned.

  Amaya was through and the others were calling. Daniel hesitated a moment more and then fell on his belly to crawl, his head and back bumping against the overhanging rock. Ethan helped drag him out the other side.

  "Okay, he's buying us time," Daniel said. "Let's run like hell."

  "They're going to tear him to pieces if he doesn't get through that hole," Ethan said soberly.

  "He knows that," Daniel said. "If his courage is going to mean anything, we have to get away."

  The canyon widened slightly on the other side of the blockage and they trotted down it toward the eastern opening that showed a gray horizon. There was already a barely detectable blush in the sky. Dawn was coming.

  The bomb would have to work.

  The canyon walls were so steep that it would be difficult to get around him, Tucker was betting. It might take hours to circle the enclosing rocks. Precious minutes, at least. If he could hold Rugard's men here for a while, the others would have a chance.

  He studied Amaya's bomb. A fuse extended from one end, and tied to it, wrapped in leaves, were two of their remaining matches. Could it really choke off the canyon? He couldn't rely on that alone. Ru
gard's men were already in the defile, pushing forward cautiously and clumsily by torchlight, the reflections throwing shadows well ahead of the actual pursuit.

  "Let's give you something to think about," Tucker growled. He set down the explosive, picked up the spear he'd been using as a cane, and crouched at a bend of the canyon, waiting.

  They came around the curve arrogant and angry, and he charged them like a cornered bear. Surprise was complete. His initial thrust only glanced off the first man, who was twisting desperately out of the way, but the wound was enough to raise a howl and throw the convicts into confusion. Their quarry had turned! The front rank stumbled back, some tripping in their haste to get away from Tucker's whirling staff.

  A braver criminal plunged ahead with his own spear and Tucker knocked it aside. The man came at him again. Tucker parried, seized his opponent's shaft, and jerked forward with the glad ferocity of instinctive combat. The convict stumbled, dropped to his knees, and lost his weapon as Tucker wrenched, his own ankle pain forgotten. The man was trying to retreat on his hands and knees when Tucker speared him. The convict screamed, pinioned through the leg, and then was jerked to safety by his friends, the shaft trailing out of his thigh. Rugard's men fell back, relaying the news of danger.

  Tucker got up, breathing heavily, his ankle even worse, and looked at the retreating torchlight with satisfaction. "Yeah, back off, you bastards," he muttered. Then he studied the cliff wall and boosted himself gingerly a short distance up it, bracing himself precariously.

  "You keep away from us, Rugard!" he yelled, his voice echoing. "Come up here and we'll kill you all!" No one answered him. He dropped back down to the sand and waited, considering the bomb again.

  He could hear the pursuers arguing, picking up the thread of Rugard's rasping, impatient voice. Then the convicts fell ominously silent for a while. Finally someone was being pushed forward, scuffling through the sand. "Get your damn hand off me!" There was a pause and then a familiar voice called out down the canyon. "Tucker, is that you? Listen, we have to talk!"

  It was Ico.

  "I don't talk to the morally impaired!" Tucker shouted back.

  "Come on man, listen to me. We still need each other. We can still work together! Daniel wouldn't listen, Tucker. I'll bet he didn't even tell you he can't get you back. Not without me!"

  He was lying, wasn't he? Daniel said they got the transmitter.

  "Listen to me! We can still cut a deal!"

  "You made your deal, Ico!"

  The little man fell silent for a minute. Then: "Let me talk to Daniel!"

  Tucker didn't reply.

  "Let me talk to Raven!"

  Again he was quiet. They were trying to determine how many were ahead.

  "What did they do, ditch you too? You all alone, Tucker?"

  He didn't answer because he did feel suddenly alone, terribly alone. The quiet of the convicts bothered him. What were they up to?

  "Tucker, listen, I did it for your own good! That corporate bimbo was bewitching Dyson! You know that! She was going to fly off and leave us all here like a bunch of bumpkins! It was insane to let her escape! This way, we get to go!"

  "Your Warden pal promise that?"

  "Tucker, think! If we don't get the transmitter back, our party is stuck here! If you don't help us, we're all stuck here for the rest of our lives. Come on, listen to reason!"

  "You come up here where I can see you!" Tucker called. "You come up here where we can talk!"

  There was more wrestling, and Ico was shoved lurching ahead. He stopped, straightened, and then walked forward hesitantly.

  "All we want is the transmitter, Tucker," he soothed, his arms spread wide. "We're not going to hurt you guys. We need each other now. I did it for you, man."

  When Ico was close enough, Tucker hurled the spear. The shorter man squeaked and dodged, but not quite quickly enough. The spear head sliced across one arm and he yelped, scurrying back out of the way. The convicts roared, the sound angry and ominous, and rocks and a couple of other spears fired back. Tucker ducked behind an outcrop as the missiles rattled harmlessly by him. Then he retrieved them and ran back around the corner of the canyon. No one followed. Somewhere to the east, the others were getting away.

  Yeah, come on you bastards, Tucker thought. Come and get it.

  Several minutes passed. Tucker stayed pressed against the canyon wall, looking for movement. Nothing. He was alone in a dark hole.

  It was funny to feel so confined, after the big spaces of Australia.

  Then there was a shattering rattle from above and Tucker looked up. Something was falling in amongst the stars. Rock fall! They were up on the rim and trying to get around him! They were throwing things at him from above!

  He lurched back to the tunnel entrance and fell on the bomb. Stones banged down. He wiggled into the tunnel backward, pulling Amaya's crude device after him, the rocks bouncing harmlessly outside. Well, that was that: they'd outflanked him just like Daniel's Spartans. This damn bomb had better work.

  He unwrapped the matches and put one carefully in a breast pocket.

  There were already voices outside the hole. They'd tried to rush him and were baffled at his disappearance until they spied the tunnel. Now someone was scrabbling in. Tucker struck the other match, held it to the fuse, and waited. Nothing. A dud. Oh boy, Amaya. And then there was a flash, a fizz, and the bomb began burning. God be praised, the crazy woman had done it! He dropped the smoking sphere in front of him and began wriggling backward toward the eastern entrance, light from the fuse helping illuminate the way. He heard cries of alarm and a frantic crawling from the convicts.

  Then the light went out with a smothering hiss. "I got it!" Someone had extinguished the thing.

  "Damn!" Tucker reversed course and hurriedly crawled back, seeing the dim shape of someone backing up the tunnel. He caught up with the bomb snatcher just as the other man was about to wriggle out, and grabbed.

  There was a grunt of pain and a curse. Jago, Rugard's guard! The man stank from the smoke of the burning cabin roof. The convict and Tucker grappled awkwardly in the tight space, the others clustered outside the tunnel entrance. "He's got me!" Jago shouted. "Get me the hell out of here!" Tucker was punching, clawing, butting, trying to get the bomb back. It was like a struggle for a football. Hands were reaching in, clutching at them both, and he felt the two of them being inexorably hauled out of the tunnel. Jago was cutting him, he realized- a knife, he supposed- and he chopped at the man's throat, stopping the irritation. The bomb came loose and Tucker clutched it to his own breast. Men were starting to pummel his body as they pulled him out toward the open.

  The match. Broken, but he could feel the piece with the head in his pocket.

  The mob was howling, yanking them like a cork from a bottle, whooping at the opportunity for revenge. Tucker felt Jago being jerked away from him and then hands dragging, punching, tearing. Their screams of frustration filled his ears, the anger hitting him harder than the pain. He lit his match and pressed it to the fuse. Please, let me succeed at something just once, he prayed.

  Just once.

  He felt a curious lightness as they beat him. The future had disappeared, and with it the weight of the past. Here in the eroded cluster of sculpted rock, carved by unimaginable eons of time, he was at the cumulative instant he was supposed to be at, he recognized. All his life had come down to this. So when the fuse flared and screams erupted and hands clutched frantically at the bomb, he felt a curious serenity. Tucker had found his why.

  Then the bomb went off.

  The quartet of fleeing adventurers heard the boom of the explosion as they ran out into the broad desert, the horizon flush with the coming sun. The thudding roar echoed and reechoed among the labyrinth of canyons, sending startled birds flying prematurely up and into the morning air.

  They stopped and turned. There was a groan of collapsing rock and a following rumble, as if stones were sliding down to seal the defile more completely. "It worked," Amay
a said quietly, as if she'd never really been convinced the ancient formula could be quite so simple. "It exploded."

  "Did he make it?" It was Ethan, asking a question he knew couldn't be rationally answered yet. A cloud of smoke and dust rolled out of the slit they had emerged from.

  The noise finally grumbled away and there was dead silence.

  "No," said Daniel, knowing the answer without knowing it. "He didn't."

  Amaya was silently weeping.

  "Let's not make it be for nothing," Ethan finally said. "We have to be out of sight by sunrise and lay low until it's safe to trigger the beacon. Maybe tomorrow night."

  "We can't," Daniel said.

  "Can't what?"

  "Trigger the beacon. We can't signal for rescue. We can't penetrate the Cone."

  "I thought you said you got it!"

  "I got the transmitter but… I threw the activator at Ico." He looked at Raven. "You two are going to have to hike to the coast with us."

  The other three looked stunned. Amaya was looking from Daniel to Raven, crestfallen.

  "It's better this way," he said. "Not some of us fly off, some of us stay."

  Raven was looking at him in shock. "Oh, Daniel," she whispered.

  "It will give us time to ask why we do."

  Then he turned, and led the way into the rising sun.

  "Lord, what a painting."

  Rugard Sloan, blackened and scorched, turned a grim circle at the mouth of what had been the tunnel. Fresh rock had covered it, and the walls nearby had been sprayed with gore. One man had done this, he thought, one big man he hadn't had time to reach with reason. One man! This giant named Tucker had killed five men, wounded half a dozen more, and turned the remaining pack of pursuers into a band of drunken, sick, whipped dogs. Rugard couldn't have driven them on at gunpoint, not right now.

  The snitch Ico had lived by hanging back because of his little spear cut, whimpering like a punished child. Rugard himself had been saved by the death of a man in front of him, a flesh-and-blood shield that had knocked him flat. He was spattered with offal and singed and grimy from the flames of his own roof. They'd made a fool of him, of that he was certain.