Someone had tittered in the back of the room.
“Are bonobos 97 percent of the way to putting the first bonobo on the moon? Is there an orangutan somewhere with a simian Mona Lisa 97 percent finished? Do we see evidence of mercy, justice, or compassion in monkeys? Is there an ape somewhere wondering who made everything and why there are trees, rocks, and songbirds? A writer I like, C. S. Lewis, once said that so much of what we do as people ‘gives value to survival rather than has value for survival.’ Isn’t the gap so much wider than the 3 percent disparity in the respective DNA sequences?”
At that point, Kinnerton had stomped out, publicly scorning Al. It still stung.
Pam’s perceptive comments on Halcyon really had him thinking. So much of what Pam said was true. Halcyon really was an oppressive place. Somehow, having no rules and true freedom were not really the same thing! The apparent freedom of Halcyon was the freedom of a rat in a maze. Halcyon let people do what they wanted so the powers behind Halcyon could use that data to reprogram their subjects in the direction they wanted. Like all scientists, they needed unbiased data so they could evaluate the current deeply held beliefs and assumptions of their subjects and so know the degree to which their programming had succeeded. A society that allowed freedom of speech and action provided them with precisely that data.
Kinnerton’s attack then had just been a part of the manipulation process. The fact that an ad hominem attack like that still stung now showed it had in part worked, but he hadn’t seen it at the time.
Al’s troubled mind gradually relaxed into fitful sleep.
Chapter 22 The City of the Dead
The two teams started off at dawn the following morning. Al, Dave, and Pam headed directly up the spur, crossing patches of bare solid rock pitted by erosion interspersed by tree filled hollows. Late in the morning, after struggling through the uneven topography, they came out of a hollow and saw the city across a shallow valley. It was nestled against a vertical mountain wall that was more than a thousand feet in height. The outer ramparts formed three sides of a rough rectangle. A road, climbing out of a deeper valley to the east, ran along the top of a ledge of rock under the shadow of the wall and entered the fortress city through a broken gate.
Behind the outer wall, farther back in the city, a second wall rose several hundred feet above the rampart, forming a smaller enclosed area, like a citadel. Against the cliff, the top of a high turreted keep made of jet-black stone was just visible.
“That must be the road from the jetty,” said Al, pointing to the road disappearing into a valley to their left. “The stonework on the road looks identical to what we saw at the river.”
“If that’s true, Jackson, Taylor, and Smith ought to have arrived ahead of us,” concluded Dave.
They headed for the main gate. This stretch of their journey was more open than any they had yet encountered since they had left Linderhof. Whether it was a consequence of the poor soil or some malevolent influence emanating from the city, no living thing grew in the shallow, elongated valley that fronted the gate, except a thorny, gorse-like bush that clung tenaciously to their clothes whenever they chanced to brush against it. The gorse bushes were so troublesome that they gave up trying to cross the valley directly and instead skirted the edge, joining the road at the point where it began to climb. Thus they traveled half a mile on the road under the shadow of the rampart. The wall was higher than it had looked, and they felt naked and exposed; any defender on the wall could kill them with a well-thrown stone. And so they raced to the front gate in fear.
When they finally reached the gate, Al called a halt and looked into the city. The gate had at one time been a long tunnel about a hundred feet in length. The roof of the tunnel and the adjoining wall had collapsed so that large blocks of stone were scattered about. Dave positioned himself inside the walls on a large flat boulder that gave him a good view of the utterly deserted city streets, while Pam watched outside.
Inside the gate, the street was bordered with row upon row of houses, some with collapsed roofs. Each house shared its sidewalls with its neighbors so that only the street or the occasional narrow walkway made an intermittent gap. The windows had no glass.
The main avenue that came through the gate continued into the heart of the city, becoming increasingly narrow and winding as the houses closed in on it. Just inside the gate, this main road crossed a second road, which appeared to follow the outer rampart all the way around the fortress.
Al said he was reluctant to enter the heart of the city and so turned left and searched buildings across from the outer rampart. With Al out of sight, Dave became aware of the unearthly silence. Even the wind seemed unable to reach into this city.
In five minutes Al returned and motioned Dave to follow him as he walked back out through the broken entrance. When they rejoined Pam, she seemed relieved that they had returned.
“As far as I can see, this city has been deserted for a long time,” said Al. “I saw wood that had almost completely decayed, and the dust in the buildings looks undisturbed. This is what I propose: I’m going to scale this wall and try to signal the base with my mirror. Then if I have Linder’s go ahead, I believe we should explore the city. We’ll be in and out before nightfall and back to the base a few hours after that. Any comments?”
Dave said, “Up until now we’ve been traveling very slowly because we’ve been very cautious. Now that we’re inside the gates, we don’t really have an escape route. I’d prefer to go for speed so that we can get in and out as quickly as possible.”
“What do you think, Pam?” asked Al.
“I’m with Dave. This place gives me the creeps; the faster we get in and out, the better.”
“All right then, let’s do it!”
Pam and Dave resumed their guard positions while Al began climbing the broken wall. After he had been gone for about half an hour, he reappeared.
“Come and join me on the wall,” he called.
Pam and Dave hauled all of their supplies to the top of the rock pile. They fastened Al’s pack and crossbow to the line so he could haul it up. Pam’s equipment went next. Al offered to guide Pam and asked her to fasten the rope to her climbing harness. Dave helped her up onto the first rock ledge. Wearing her climbing harness and listening to Al’s instructions about footholds and safe grips, Pam began the ascent.
After a few minutes without mishap, Pam reached the upper edge, and Al hoisted her over the top.
Dave’s pack and crossbow came next. But his old fear of climbing returned, and he felt especially self-conscious since Pam had managed very well under Al’s direction. Putting on a brave front, Dave tried to climb without the rope Al offered, becoming so afraid at one point, that he wanted to call for a rope, but Pam’s concerned face peering down at him convinced him to go on. Relief washed over him as he reached for Al’s hand at the top.
“I made contact with the base,” said Al. “They told me that they haven’t heard from the other party. Maybe I’m wrong about the road after all.”
“Maybe they’ve found something really interesting that diverted them,” volunteered Pam.
“Could be,” said Al, “but I think we should exercise extra caution. Floyd agrees we should press on. I want to be as careful as possible, but as Dave pointed out, it would be better for us to move quickly, find the Taylor team if they’re here, and get out before nightfall. My plan is to walk along the top of the wall all the way to the rock face. There’s a tower at the end, and I hope to reach the cobblestone road just before it enters the citadel. That way we can look down on the lower tier of the city from above, without having to move among all those abandoned buildings.”
“Isn’t this a longer route?” asked Dave.
“Yes, but it has the advantage that if we stay near the outer parapet, the width of the wall will make us invisible from the city’s lower tier. We’ll still be in full view of the upper wall, but that can’t be helped. I think it shouldn’t take us more than thirty minutes t
o get to the far end of the wall if we walk fast, and we can’t get lost while we’re up here.”
They moved quickly along the wall for about 200 yards to the first of the towers. Entering the tower through an arch, they could see a heavy wooden door lying where it had rotted from its iron hinges. Inside the door there was a circular stairway connecting the top of the tower with the street.
“This would have saved us a lot of time!” said Al, gesturing at the stairs.
“Then we wouldn’t have had the exhilaration of the climb,” said Pam, smiling.
They continued along the parapet and through three more towers until they were facing the mountainside. The wall did not butt directly up against the cliff face, but made a sharp turn to the right, gradually closing the gap to the cliff at an acute angle.
“This is a well-designed fortification,” said Al. “If anyone tried to scale the rock face to get up to the wall, they’d be under fire from this section of the wall the whole time. It would be hard to surprise the defenders if they remained vigilant.”
“Nevertheless, it looks like someone did break in, judging by the rubble at the front gate,” remarked Pam.
They made the final trek to the last tower without incident. Below them they saw the cobblestone road climbing up to the citadel wall and another gate, which seemed undisturbed. As they entered the citadel, they saw that it was quite different from the lower tier. The cobblestone road entered a large square like a parade ground. Against the mountain rock face, at the southern end of the square, there was a huge tower made of black stone. The gate to the tower was open, but the opening, large enough to be a train tunnel, was so dark, it looked like the entrance to a cave.
Dave looked about the square. Around it were the ruins of what once must have been impressive buildings. On some, the large circular columns had collapsed, while others were mostly intact. The dark window and door openings looked like the eye and mouth holes of huge stone skulls.
“Let’s explore that black tower,” said Al quietly. “It seems to be the most important building. After that it’ll be time for us to head home.”
They approached the entrance to the tower. It was crowned with a sharply pointed arch, above which a hideous stone beast glared with bared fangs into the square. Entering, they could see they were in a tunnel with smooth walls that ran straight into the mountain.
At that moment a shape separated from the shadows further up the tunnel. The humanoid shape was about five feet tall. Clothed in hides, it had a small head with disproportionately large jaws, but it walked upright and used its apelike hands to wield the crude club it carried. Stopping as it saw them, it tilted its head back, gave an ear-piercing howl and then charged with a lumbering jerky motion. Its face displayed a cold, bloodless snarl but no fear. Al raised his crossbow and began to back out of the tower.
Dave shouted, “There are more behind us in the square!” The shadows of several more ape-men darkened the entrance.
“Up the stairs!” yelled Al.
They reached the first landing by the time the ape-man, with club raised, had rounded the corner and began lumbering up the stairs. Dave’s bolt tore into its body, knocking it down. But the creature’s demeanor did not change; it rose and continued the attack. A second bolt knocked it down again, and this time, it lay unmoving.
Still hoping to escape, the trio started back down the stairs when four more ape¬men entered the base of the tower. Howling, the beasts attempted to climb the stairs, but tripped over the body and fell in a heap.
“Get upstairs quick!” said Al.
Pam led the way while Dave and Al covered their retreat. Racing up the stairs, they emerged at the top of the tower, some 500 feet above the square. Dave and Al prepared to face the ape¬men lumbering after them.
Pam ran along the parapet toward the mountainside.
“I’ve found an escape!” she shouted, and stepped onto a narrow rock ledge.
“Let’s go!” said Al.
He and Dave fired their crossbows, and then Al raced to join Pam. But Dave hesitated.
I’ll never be able to keep up on the ledge; besides, the ape¬men are too close.
He turned towards the attackers to buy his friends more time. Pulling his sword from its sheath, he swung at the first ape¬man that approached, making a deep gash across its arm.
__________
Pam carefully moved along the ledge, followed closely by Al. After traveling a dozen feet, Al realized Dave was not with them. He turned around, retraced his steps to the parapet and looked on in horror as one of the ape¬men struck Dave in the head. When Dave collapsed, the others hoisted his limp body and began carrying it down the stairs.
Al felt an urge to fling himself at the ape-men, but that would have meant abandoning Pam. He had no choice but to return to the ledge. With a heavy heart and inwardly raging, he turned back to Pam. When Pam saw him turn, she realized Dave wasn’t joining them. A look of fear and horror crossed her face.
“Where’s Dave?” she asked.
“They got him. Keep moving!”
Pam froze.
“He’s dead. Keep moving!” Al shouted.
Slowly, Pam turned as sobs racked her body. Al gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Pam, we’ll have time for tears later. We need to keep moving. We need to warn the others.”
Some ape¬men had followed them out onto the ledge. But despite their appearance, they did not have the agility of apes. They proceeded along the ledge for a few feet, then first one and then the others fell to the rocks far below, their bodies bouncing off the mountainside, leaving a red stain wherever they hit. After a dozen had fallen, the others clustered at the tower parapet but did not venture onto the ledge.
Pam led the way along the mountain face, her sobbing interspersed with expressions of helpless rage. Traversing the sheer wall demanded they summon their composure and focus on the climb. Only when they finally reached a broader ledge with a cave did they allow themselves to relax their concentration. Pam looked back into the citadel. The ape¬men were not following, but were carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades back into the tower entrance.
After a few moments rest, the two companions woodenly resumed their climb. The sheer stone wall now bent south to make a deep cleft in the mountainside and they lost sight of the hideous tower. Looking down, they could see the western end of the city, as quiet and deserted as before.
Rounding the corner was difficult; there were few handholds, and they had to carry their equipment. Pam, who was proving to be an excellent climber, unerringly picked the best route over the rock wall. Al recalled the help he’d given her in scaling the outer rampart, a trivial exercise compared to this climb.
She really didn’t need my help on the outer wall. She can climb much better than I can! But she took my silly instructions without comment.
High up on the other side of this stone rampart they eventually reached a wide ledge that sloped back into the mountain. The steepness of the slope, and its depth, kept them safely hidden.
Pam had reached the end of her endurance. Falling to her knees, she sank back, wrapping her arms about her knees as great sobs again shook her body. Al put his arm around her shoulder but could not think of anything to say. Tears welled up in his eyes, but they were silent tears. He remembered the attack of the lupi. How many graves had he dug? How many prayers had he said over the mounds?
They sat like this for a while, until Pam’s sobbing gradually subsided. She hadn’t seen Dave fall under the clubs of the ape¬men, so Al told her how Dave had obviously made a stand at the tower door, only to be killed by the attackers. Pam wiped her eyes and tried valiantly to suppress her shudders. Eventually, Al took his arm away and began rummaging through his pack for some food. The simple act of taking some food and water gave them both a sense of normalcy and helped restore their emotions.
Chapter 23 Attack
“Should we keep going or head back to the tower and make a run for it?” asked Al, after they had
been sitting quietly for a few minutes.
Pam quailed. Al sensed a shiver pass through her.
“Al, I couldn’t face those creatures again. They weren’t animal—and they weren’t human. They seemed so—unnatural. I can’t go back—especially not at night.”
“Then we should go on?” asked Al. “What if they follow us and come upon us in the dark?”
Even in the waning light, Al could see the color drain from her face. Pam moved to get up, but her legs were obviously too stiff. Al also felt weary—from the tension of their escape and the emotional trauma of Dave’s death.
Finally he pulled himself up and helped Pam to her feet. At the back of the ledge was a crevice, a chimney that extended out of sight. It would be a difficult climb, but the lower stages, at least, were manageable. However, even now the shadow was so deep in the cleft that they could not see the handholds.
In the end, they spent the night huddled on the ledge under a shallow overhang that provided them with some protection from the wind. There were no stars, and the night air filled with the oppressive heaviness of an impending thunderstorm. The lightning flashes and loud crashes of thunder were terrifying on the exposed mountainside. In the momentary brilliance of the lightning flashes, they thought they saw ape¬men creeping toward them in the flickering shadows on the rock face. They waited in fear. The ape¬men never came.
Al prayed a silent prayer that they would both remain calm. He told Pam every silly joke he could remember. Many of them were old chestnuts, and Pam must have thought him a fool for trying them out on her at a time like this, but the jokes had their desired effect. Pam actually started to giggle softly, and time passed more quickly as they forgot the shadows and the danger. Eventually, through sheer exhaustion, they fell into a restless sleep.
Dawn found them so cramped and cold they could hardly move. Stretching gingerly, the pain at first was excruciating, but soon they were able to have a few mouthfuls of water and a bit of cold breakfast. Both were anxious to leave their precarious perch, so Pam, silently acknowledged as the better climber, led the way up the broken rock face of the chimney.
The Halcyon Dislocation Page 20