The Halcyon Dislocation

by Peter Kazmaier

  An hour later they were standing on a broad ledge with the city far below. They had climbed well beyond the western wall of the city and were now searching for a way down. The ledge, like a sword slash in the side of the mountain, ran down at a forty-five degree angle in the direction they wanted to go but carried them around a mountain spur that put them completely out of sight of the city.

  The going became easier since the mountainside was not as steep here, but they had to go slowly since the ledge ended in a steep field of boulders and one false step could result in a fall.

  By early afternoon they were finally off the mountain, about a mile west of the city. Tired as they were, they made all possible haste back to Fort Linderhof.

  At about suppertime, they approached their camp, exhausted. A guard on alert waved and then ran back to the hollow. Soon Floyd and several others came to meet them across the rope bridge.

  “Where’s Dave?” asked Floyd.

  Al hung his head and wiped his eyes. “Dead!” he said wearily.

  Floyd was visibly shocked at the news and took a moment to recover his composure. “What happened?” asked Floyd.

  “It’s a long story, and we’d better get across the bridge,” said Al.

  A few minutes later, Pam and Al were hungrily helping themselves to the food set before them and drinking Halcyon tea. Almost everyone had gathered around. Floyd even had to chase the lookout back to his post by the rope bridge.

  Pam and Al took turns explaining their journey in detail. There was a perceptible intake of breath as Al described Dave’s final act of courage, which had obviously allowed his and Pam’s escape. He dismissed the return journey with a few words and then fell silent.

  Floyd’s eyes smoldered.

  “The other party encountered the same type of ape¬men you did,” Floyd said. “They were trapped for a while. Fortunately it happened on the open road and they were able to take up a safe position, beat off the ape¬men, and disengage without taking any casualties. What are they, do you think, these ‘ape¬men’?”

  Pam answered. “They seem to have some primitive means of communication, and they coordinate their attacks. I guess they have some intelligence, but they’re impervious to pain and they don’t really get angry. It’s not that they are devoid of emotion; it’s as if the emotion they exhibit is a parody or a sham. It’s almost as if they were zombies.”

  “They have another curious behavior,” added Al. “They always carry their dead away. After several had fallen off the ledge, we saw others come back to the bottom of the cliff and carry off the bodies.”

  “Hmm,” said Floyd, “do you think they might attack us here?”

  “They might,” said Al. “They didn’t follow us, but we had out-climbed them. We’re more exposed here, and it’s possible they may make an attempt. This is a defensible position, but if they come in sufficient numbers to surround us, we could be in a desperate situation.”

  Floyd addressed the group. “We’ll double the watch. I want all the sailboats filled with provisions. I want our ropes fastened and ready to go, in case we have to make our escape. I’m going to make up our new watch schedules. Pam, you and Al get some sleep.”

  Al walked slowly back to their tent. The images of Dave’s last stand came back to him and filled him with remorse. It should have been him. He was the leader. He should have stayed back and fought the ape-men!

  Al took his sleeping bag out of the tent and found a spot under a small pine tree. He used his raincoat to make an improvised lean-to and placed his belongings next to his sleeping bag. As he turned around, Pam was standing by the tent watching him. It looked as if she were going to say something but changed her mind. She lifted the tent flap, turned and wished him a good night, and disappeared into the tent.

  __________

  It was a clear night. Dark shadows shambled over the rocks toward Fort Linderhof. The first shadow reached the rope bridge and began to cross.

  A voice called out, “Who goes there?”

  In silence the shadow continued to cross the bridge. Floyd’s axe flashed in the moonlight, and the main rope parted. The ape¬man held onto one of the hand ropes. Two more axe strokes and the hand ropes parted, sending the ape¬man into the depths. A dull thud sounded as his body landed on the rocks far below.

  Other ape¬men approached the chasm carrying long, roughly made ladders. Speeding up as they neared the edge, they lowered the front ends of the ladders to the ground, lofting them vertically with the help of poles and letting them fall across the yawning gorge. Five ladders thudded, bridging the gap, and the ape¬men began to lumber across. Occasionally, one would overbalance and fall into the depths; others fell as they took hits from crossbow bolts or rifle shots. Still they advanced in silent ferocity. The bullets quickly spent, the few crossbowmen would not be able to hold off the attack for long.

  Floyd brought up a crew of six men. Using ropes and pry poles, they knocked one ladder after another to the bottom of the chasm. When the last ladder had fallen, the remaining ape¬men retreated as silently as they had come. “We’re almost out of arrows,” said Floyd in a loud voice. “If they launch another attack, we’ll be fighting hand-to-hand, and they’ll overwhelm us. We must get out of here now.”

  Having ordered their retreat, he had the group pack up their remaining things and begin the slow process of going down the rope ladder to the boats. Most of the people were already down when the ape¬men reappeared, supplied with fresh ladders. Again, as before, they propelled the ladders over the chasm and began climbing onto them almost before they hit the ground. Al, Floyd, and three others tried to knock the ladders off, taking aim with their crossbows at any ape¬men that came across. When the last bolt had been shot and the ape¬men had crossed at the far end of the mesa, Al and the others raced back across the mesa toward the riverside precipice and jumped into the void.

  Al hit the river feet first, his crossbow jarring his shoulder. Time slowed to a crawl as he sank into the water’s inky blackness. Seeing the faint shimmer of air bubbles rising, he kicked vigorously to follow them. On the surface, Al saw the ghostly shadow of a boat approaching. Arms dragged him aboard, and then the boat paddled swiftly and silently into the predawn twilight.

  Chapter 24 Return to Halcyon

  The wearying journey back to Halcyon passed uneventfully. Floyd kept them going with all possible speed, camping on islands they had used before. Finally they saw the mouth of the river and the familiar islands in the channel. Once clear of the mountains, Floyd radioed ahead, so a small welcoming party, including the chancellor and most of the senate, was at the harbor to greet them. The chancellor spoke a few words, and then the newly arrived adventurers were hustled off for a debriefing that took the rest of that day.

  Al’s session had all the characteristics of an interrogation. He was repeatedly questioned about his trip to the deserted city with a succession of crossexaminers phrasing the same questions using different words, as if they wanted him to recant or catch him in an inconsistency. Toward the end of the day, their questions turned to his religious beliefs and the possible impact these beliefs might have had on the performance of his duty.

  It wasn’t until later that night, after he had been released, that the fatigue of the journey, with all its rigors, loss, and uncertainty, settled on Al. Not wanting to go back to his empty dorm room alone, he walked by himself for a while. He turned into the library, hoping to find the feeling of familiarity. But the comfortable sense of being at home among the books at first eluded him. Then he reached his old study table and saw his friend Dwight at his usual place.

  Seeing Al, Dwight’s face lit up. They traded punches.

  “Man, am I glad to see you!” said Al.

  “Likewise. Your exploits on the river expedition are all over campus. I thought you would have had your fill of adventure after our brush with the lupi. You’ll have to tell me about things over a cup of tea.”

  “I’d love to. Why don’t we find Tom and make
our reunion complete?” Al suggested.

  Dwight’s face betrayed a look of concern. “I’m afraid he’s not doing very well,” he said guardedly.

  “What’s up?” said Al.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got lots of time.” They headed for the cafeteria.

  “Well,” began Dwight, “it all started shortly after you left. Tom started seeing this incredibly beautiful woman named Cynthia, Cynthia Dodson. He told me at first he was very concerned about her spiritual state. You know me, I’m always a bit of a cynic, so I gave him one of my inscrutable stares that says ‘yeah, right!’ and left it at that. Well a few weeks later, I find out he’s spending nights with her.

  “Now here’s the real kicker. After this development, he began to avoid me. When I finally cornered him, he told me he’s having all these intellectual troubles about the reliability of the Bible. He brought up a number of old chestnuts, and we talked about them for a while. I got exasperated, because I knew it was all a smoke screen. I lost my temper and told him his gonads had far more to do with his doubts than his brain did! Needless to say, that didn’t go over very well!”

  The weight of this blow on top of everything else seemed too much for Al. “How can this be! We’re being destroyed little by little. Where’s the Lord in all this? Why doesn’t he stop it? Why isn’t he working? Why isn’t he answering!”

  Leaving the question unanswered, Dwight continued in a quieter voice. “Anyway,” he said, “a week after I told Tom off, Cynthia dumped him for someone else. Tom has a new girlfriend and really wants nothing more to do with me.”

  Dwight wanted to know about the adventure, so Al filled him in on the details. Later, when he finally returned to his room, although exhausted Al was unable to sleep. He knelt beside his bed and prayed to the God that almost no one seemed to believe in any more.

  God, where are you? Why aren’t you working? I thought Dave was really coming around to think about you, and you let those ape-men kill him. For every step forward, we go two steps back, and you don’t seem to care!

  The next morning, Al checked the Halcyon work schedule to find Tom’s work assignment. He was working on one of the kelp-harvesting trawlers and would return from the kelp fields about two o’clock in the afternoon. Al waited for him at the wharf on the east side of the island.

  As Tom came through the gate and saw Al, his face registered surprise.

  “How are you, Tom?” said Al.

  “I’m fine,” said Tom woodenly. “How about you?”

  “I just got back from the expedition, and I wanted to see you.”

  Tom nodded.

  “I know you’re just off your shift,” said Al, “but could we go for tea, or what passes as tea, and talk for a while?”

  “I’d like that,” said Tom, but his voice and manner contradicted his words.

  Tom warmed up as they remembered mutual acquaintances, talked about their adventure with the lupi, and Al recounted details of the most recent river exploration. They had been sitting for some time at the cafeteria, and Tom was already on his third beer when Al ended his tale. “I’ve heard there have been some changes in your life since I left on the expedition,” said Al.

  Tom’s eyes hardened. “You’ve been talking to Dwight.”

  “Yes,” said Al.

  “Listen, Al,” said Tom, with some bitterness, “all my life, I feel like I’ve lived in a state of puritanical repression. And now I have a gorgeous girlfriend, Lynn Whitford, and I’m having the time of my life. I’d like for us to continue to be friends, but I don’t want you telling me what I can and can’t do.”

  “Tom, hear me out. I’m not here to tell you what you can or can’t do. You’re a grownup and have a God-given right to make your own decisions about things. That doesn’t mean we don’t disagree or that I don’t care. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I just don’t want our friendship destroyed, because of Lynn or anyone else.”

  Tom’s eyes softened. “Al, I’ve just gotten off my shift and I’m really tired. Maybe I’m overreacting. I’ve got to get some rest, but I’m glad that you went out of your way to see me. Maybe when I’m less tired we can talk some more?” With that, Tom got up, clapped Al on the back, and left.

  Al sat for a few minutes mulling over their conversation.

  Why do I do that to people, especially a friend like Tom? Why did he feel criticized just because I asked about Lynn? How do I let him know that although I think he’s making a big mistake, I’m still his friend and his decisions aren’t going to change that? One step forward, two steps back!

  Al finished his tea, rose wearily from his seat at the table, and went back to his room.

  Chapter 25 The Inner Circle Meets

  Blackmore finished sipping his martini and looked around his oak paneled drawing room. They had an important decision to make, and he half listened to the discussion while he thought about the proposal. Finally he looked at Hoffstetter intently. “So, Bertrand,” he said, “you’re urging us to launch an immediate expedition to seize the mountain city. What do the rest of you think of that?”

  Huxley was ready for the question. “I’m inclined to agree with him. The deserted city is well fortified and may hold knowledge that could be very useful to us. I don’t see the ape¬men as a problem. Sure, they overwhelmed a handful of explorers, but we have a technological advantage over the ape¬men, and with sufficient numbers we should easily prevail.”

  Hobbs was agitated by Huxley’s response. “But what about the risks?” he asked. “Our supply line to this new city will be very long. We’ve only now built our first versions of the Viking longboat. What if the ape¬men defeat our expeditionary force?”

  “We need to plan carefully,” responded Huxley, “but I think we could be ready in a month. We’ll send our twenty-five longboats upriver and establish a base, not on the mainland but on this island they talked about,” he said pointing to a newly drawn map on the wall. “The ape¬men have no watercraft, and our island is unassailable. From there we can fortify Fort Linderhof and make our push to the city when we’re strong enough. As far as supplies go, we have enough food here now, and we can set up a ferry service using the longboats so that supplies arrive every week.”

  Blackmore leaned forward and made a steeple of his fingers. “I think the potential benefits outweigh the risks. There’s another reason I think this journey is worth the risk. We’re more intelligent than these brutes, but they have language and rudimentary organization. Just think of the resource they could be if we apply ourselves to controlling them or, shall we say, to domesticating them. They could take over many of our menial tasks, and they don’t have the intelligence to be a threat to us.”

  His point had struck home. Everyone was nodding in agreement. “There’s another issue we need to think about,” he continued. “Albert Gleeson and Pamela Lowental have become celebrities because of their exploits in the city. Is this a problem for us?”

  Lydia Pendergast’s eyes had hardened at Gleeson’s name. “I don’t think Lowental is a problem, but Gleeson is another story. He’s a schizophrenic, receiving messages from and talking to God. I don’t want a person like that gaining influence in Halcyon or participating in another of our expeditions.”

  “But how can we legitimately deny him a role in this new expedition,” said Hobbs, “when he’s a hero? He has the allegiance of the expedition members.”

  “I thought we might discredit Gleeson for abandoning Schuster,” said Pendergast, “but the facts weren’t on our side. Instead I think we should call Gleeson in for another interview and have Boyd from psychiatry listen to him. Boyd believes religion is a psychosis, and I’m sure he’d feel that he would be doing Gleeson and our society a great service by enrolling Gleeson in a treatment program so as to free him from this mental illness. If Boyd institutionalizes him, then we could, if we were asked, publicly lament the effects of post-traumatic stress syndrome on Gleeson while expressing our hope that Boyd will
heal Halcyon’s hero.”

  Blackmore smiled; he’d heard enough. The conversation had come around to the point he’d waited for, so he got up out of his chair. “We’ve decided then. Bertrand, you’ll propose to the senate that we launch this expeditionary force as soon as possible. The rest of us will support your proposal. I don’t fully trust Linder, so we’ll find a new leader. We’ll also work to cure Gleeson from his psychosis to our benefit and the benefit of our fragile society.” He said this last phrase with a sly smile.

  Blackmore led the way to the dining hall for their meal together. Food always tasted better after a decision had been reached.

  Chapter 26 Resolve

  The Halcyon University Hospital was a large steel and glass building designed to provide a pleasant, bright, open atmosphere for convalescing patients. As a medical student, Pam knew the building well and did not need to ask directions to the psych ward. Here she met her first surprise. Instead of the open passageway to the psych wing she had expected, she found a receptionist sitting in front of a locked door.

  “May I help you?” asked the pretty blonde receptionist.

  “Er, yes. I’m here to see Mr. Albert Gleeson.”

  “And your name is?” asked the receptionist.

  “Isn’t it visiting hours?” asked Pam sweetly.

  “I’m afraid visiting hours no longer—” the receptionist stopped herself. “I’m afraid visiting hours don’t apply to the psych ward.”

  “In that case, my name is Pam Lowental.”

  “One moment please!”

  The receptionist pushed on a button under her desk, unlocking the solid door, and then went into the psych ward. The lock clicked, seconds after the door had swung shut. After a few minutes, the door opened and the receptionist returned with a corpulent man with a full, graying beard.