“Well, the second way would be to make his presence and will so compelling that although I could make my own decisions, he would be so overwhelming I couldn’t get away from him. If he did what you said and confronted you with glowing letters on our cell wall, how could you ever choose to disbelieve in him? He wouldn’t leave you that option. He has to leave things so there’s a reasonable amount of evidence, but the evidence isn’t compelling. That way as you come to him hoping it’s true, and it becomes more compelling, you can choose to follow him completely, or you can choose to turn your back on him and come up with another explanation that leaves him out but also holds together well enough to be believable. This way you have to choose, because for whatever reason, he considers the freewill relationship to be of paramount importance.”
“So what happens if I turn my back?” Dave was almost afraid to ask this questions since the memory of his dream gripped him so strongly he almost thought he was back in it.
“In a letter that Paul, an early Christian, wrote to other Christians in Rome, he talked about people who knew God as creator but didn’t honor him as such. When they chose to disbelieve, it seems as if even the evidence they’d seen before became hard to see. When they closed the shutters, the whole room became dark, and they grew more comfortable in their darkness.”
Now Dave was really frightened. One way or another he was going to shut down this conversation. “It sounds like a lot of rationalization to me. I think I need to think about it. Can you scrape for a while? I need to take a nap.”
__________
Well before sunrise, when the cell was still quite dark and they both rested, exhausted, against the outer wall, they felt evil come before it arrived. It was as if darkness itself approached, preceded by fear so strong it was like the odor accompanying a decaying corpse. The fear washed over Dave and caused his limbs to tremble. Luckily Al had replaced the loose stones before he had also decided to catch up on some sleep.
They heard the trap latch click and then open up. The flickering light from a torch shone through the opening. Hoffstetter appeared at the hole in the ceiling, kneeling and looking down at them.
“Where are the others?” hissed Hoffstetter.
His voice had changed. He no longer sounded like the Hoffstetter Dave knew. When he fixed his eyes, red from the torchlight, on Dave, waves of fear and doubt assailed him anew, and it took Dave’s whole will to stop his knees from shaking. His lips were dry. He clenched his teeth with all his might to keep the answer from being torn out of him.
“They’re gone,” said Al haltingly.
“That I already know,” said Hoffstetter menacingly. “Where are those vermin, the Hansa? I want their village—tell me!”
An all-consuming dread tortured Dave’s mind; he wanted to cry out and raised his arm as if to ward off a blow. Al put his hand on Dave’s arm, and the wave of terror diminished.
“Who are you?” asked Al, turning back to Hoffstetter.
“I am beyond you, little man!” Hoffstetter sneered arrogantly. “I am the power under the mountain.”
“Where’s Hoffstetter?” asked Al.
“Oh, he’s still here. I honor him by using his body. I leave a little place for his little mind. I have been planning this for a long time. Did you really think that your coming to our world was Hoffstetter’s accident? I called him. He came because he wants to serve me, as he should. If you choose to serve me, you can have things you never dreamed of, but you must help me find the Hansa and show me how to conquer your island.”
Dave didn’t have the energy to respond; Al also remained silent.
“I will give you time to think about it,” said Hoffstetter’s mouth. Without another word, Hoffstetter’s body rose and closed the trap door. They could hear his boots receding on the stones above.
“Whew!” said Al. “We’ve got to get out of here! Do you really think the Hansa will come?”
“They’ll come—I’d stake my life on it.”
“I think,” said Al soberly, “those are precisely the stakes that we are placing on this bet.”
They went back to the window and worked furiously to loosen more stones around the narrow opening.
__________
They worked steadily on the mortar for several hours. With the trap door closed they knew they would have some warning if one of the guards were to check up on them.
“Dave, you seem different,” Al said at last as he worked a stone loose.
Dave paused for a second and then resumed scraping mortar. He felt the same fear rise up in him again that he felt at their last conversation. Yet deep inside, he knew he had to talk about this, and Al was a fellow he could trust.
“I believe I am different,” he said at last. “It’s hard for me to describe. It’s as if I’ve come to question everything I believed about our world, the people in it, and even who I am.”
“What caused the change?” asked Al.
“I’m not really sure. I think it was partly just getting away from Halcyon. Halcyon is like an educational narcotic. I’ve come to realize that I lived in a controlled environment where the teachers, administrators, and important people spoke constantly about freedom, about how wonderful we are, and how we should pursue our own whims and desires. And yet the whole system, the whole culture, was designed to be inimical to freedom and independent thought. Only certain approved thoughts were considered courageous, expansive, or innovative. Many of the ideas that really mattered—such as ‘Who am I? ‘Why am I here?’ ‘Is there really a mind behind the universe?’ and ‘What does it mean to be good, and why should I really bother trying to be good?’—those questions, although not directly suppressed through edicts, were ground out of me. I was told they’re stupid questions asked by stupid people and they lead to inhumanity, that they’re arrogant, intolerant questions. But no one ever asked, ‘What are the possible answers?’ and ‘Are any of these answers true?’”
“I know what you mean,” said Al. “I’ve felt the same, nameless oppression while in Halcyon. But what changed your mind about these things?”
Dave smiled ruefully. “Then there was this dream I had...”
“What dream?” asked Al, his voice betraying his interest.
“I dreamt that I was standing by a hospital bed and my dead body was lying in the bed.”
When Dave finished the whole story about the dream, Al shook his head. “That’s amazing, Dave. I remember when I was in first year I had a friend who was an atheist but who was quite knowledgeable about the Bible. When he learned that I was a Christian, he showed me the passage in the biblical book called Revelation about the lake of fire. He asked, ‘How could you worship a God who would send me to place like that just because I don’t believe in Him?’ His comment has always bothered me. Maybe there’s a side to this I’ve never considered before. From the perspective of your dream, you were the one who dug the pit, because of your overwhelming hatred towards God.”
Dave had the sinking feeling that he, Al, and Al’s atheist friend were the ogres who made hell possible. Who knew what Dave Schuster would be like after a thousand, maybe ten thousand, years of moral decay and degeneration?
“You know,” said Dave, “you really scared me earlier when you talked about the gift we’ve been given to control our own reality. That’s what I did in my dream. In my dream, I could choose to kill a part of myself. When I walked away from the mountain and the light, I closed a portal that let me connect to God. When all those were gone, and only hate and self-loathing were left, I was the one who created the lake of fire. Can we really be like that?”
Al worked another stone loose. Then he stopped and said, “You know, Dave, there is great evil in this world. Some we do to each other, but much we do to ourselves. When we torment ourselves or give ourselves up to addiction, who will rescue us then? Don’t we have many instances where we act against our own best interests? I guess people think of sin as breaking a series of rules, but I think sin also has many of the attrib
utes of a disease of the soul. When sin takes hold, it slowly takes over our lives, and we do horrible things to ourselves. I do not know if my theology is right on this point, but perhaps, given our self-annihilating condition and our extreme hatred of God, we may eventually even go so far as to dig the lake of fire. Who knows? I’m personally convinced that the Bible is truer than I can imagine, but I’m also convinced that I’m wrong about a lot of things that I think the Bible says. I’m sure I harbor a thousand heresies. May God forgive me!”
Dave had worried his thoughts about the dream might be right. He had hoped that Al would talk him out of them. Now what would he do? “So what’s the answer?” asked Dave.
“You gave me the answer from your dream,” said Al. “We have to be clear as glass to approach the light, and we cannot do that on our own. Someone has to help us.”
__________
They were finally been able to remove enough stones to enlarge the opening such that even Dave with his broad shoulders could get through. Now what came next? The outside wall was sheer, and the drop to the city below was several hundred feet at this point. The top of the wall was at least fifty feet up. On the other hand, the mountainside was tantalizingly close. Here the wall of the citadel bent back and converged on the mountainside at a shallow angle.
Al and Dave struggled to stack the loose stones back in place so that if a guard looked through the trap door he wouldn’t find anything amiss. Dave took off his jacket and hung it out the window as an afterthought. They had just sat down again, leaning against the wall, when they heard a whoosh and a snap as an arrow shattered on the stone wall across the room and fell to the floor. Dave jumped up and grabbed a thin rope that had been attached to the arrow as the weight of the rope began to draw the arrow across the floor toward the window.
“It’s Hanomer!” whispered Dave excitedly. “I knew he wouldn‘t leave us.”
He and Al immediately began pulling the stones away. Following the rope in the deepening darkness, they could just see Hanomer below them on the mountainside. He was signaling to them.
“What does he want?” asked Al.
“I think he wants us to make the rope fast and slide down it.”
“That rope can’t be thicker than a pencil. It will never hold us!” protested Al.
“I think it will,” said Dave. “Hanomer wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Making ropes is one of their great arts. I’ll trust it. If I make it across, so should you.”
Dave stretched the rope across the room and wound it three times around an unbroken stone pillar that held up the roof of the room. He made the rope fast with a bowline hitch. Giving it a solid pull to test the hitch, he went back to the window to wave at Hanomer. The rope was pulled and stretched out until it was taut as a bowstring.
Dave took his leather jacket, doubled it up, and placed it under the rope where it rubbed across the window ledge. Next, he took off his belt, doubled it over, and tentatively hung on the rope in the room. It held his weight. He noticed the rope had been greased with tallow.
Hanomer thought of everything!
Dave climbed out onto the window ledge and sat down. He swung the belt around the rope and then wound several times around each wrist. Dave felt his old fear returning as he looked down to the lower city far below. He took a deep breath.
If there’s anyone out there, I could sure use some help!
“Here goes!” he said.
He leaned forward onto the rope and used his foot to push himself off the ledge. The rope gave a jerk when it took his full weight, and he shot down the line rapidly. He could hear the hum as the belt slid over the taut cord.
If there’s a rock wall at the end of this, I’m dead!
He came rocketing close to the mountain face and entered the shadow. At breakneck speed he splashed into a pool. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he swallowed water. He felt many hands grab at him and pull him out. As he came up dripping wet, the first face he saw was Hanomer’s. They both laughed out loud with relief. Around them were a dozen Hansa.
Dripping wet, Dave climbed to the small ledge, where he could see Al’s anxious face. He waved for Al to come on, afraid to shout for fear of alerting the guards. Al slowly positioned himself on the ledge, took a deep breath, and launched himself into the void. The rope hummed at he raced down the line, and Dave got back just in time to pull Al out of the pool, sputtering. They both laughed and clapped each other on the back. It was good to be alive!
Chapter 38 From the Frying Pan into the Fire
Leading the escape from the citadel, Pam and Floyd crawled along the cliff face. Even though it was quite dark, Floyd was amazed at the quiet confidence Pam showed as she picked her way from handhold to handhold. Assembling at the jump-off point, the platoon members were roped together by pairs. Pam and Floyd, roped to each other, were to lead the other teams to a wide ledge where they could rendezvous. Pam led off. After crossing a difficult rock face that carried them around a rock wall and out of sight of the citadel, she finished the last climb that brought her and Floyd to the ledge, and they waited for the others. It was only when the last group arrived that they realized two were missing.
“Where’s Al?” Pam asked.
No one knew.
“Stan’s also missing.”
“I’m going back!” said Pam.
“No way!” said Floyd. “We need you to guide us out. Maybe Al couldn’t leave right away. He can get out by himself, since he knows the way. He may have had a good reason for staying.”
Floyd could tell Pam didn’t believe him. He wondered if he believed it himself, since Stan had always filled him with a sense of unease and foreboding. No time for that now.
Pam led the group to the back of the broad ledge and began ascending the chimney that began as a crack at the back. After about an hour, they reached another ledge that angled down into the valley.
“You’ll be okay now,” said Pam. “This ledge will take you more or less down into the valley if you follow it.”
“And just where do you think you’re going?” asked Floyd.
“I’m going back for Al.”
“You don’t have a chance!” said Floyd.
“I can take care of myself,” said Pam.
Without another word she disappeared down the chimney into the shadows. Floyd tried to follow her progress visually but could not. He looked into the darkness for a time, undecided about what to do. Finally he turned to the expectant and increasingly anxious group.
“Follow me!”
He walked through the group, which was still peering after Pam, and began to lead them down the sloping ledge to the valley floor. Quickly the few stragglers who were still trying to follow Pam’s progress reluctantly followed Floyd.
The trip down the mountainside was slow, but they proceeded as Pam had indicated. The journey across the broken terrain separating the city from Fort Linderhof was also difficult. It was late afternoon when they reached the rock outcropping across from the fort and saw the sentry hail them. Floyd led the way as they hurried to Fort Linderhof.
“Who’s in charge?” asked Floyd breathlessly.
“I am!”
It was Hoffstetter. They were already too late; Floyd saw that the ape¬men were all over Fort Linderhof. Floyd and the Twenty¬fifth Platoon were taken prisoners before they could even draw a weapon.
Chapter 39 The Council of Granomer
The Hansa moved swiftly through the mountain. A scout returned from one of the side passages and spoke to Hanomer in whispers. Hanomer in turn approached Dave and Al.
“That scout,” Hanomer said, “says that one of your females is high up on a ledge above the citadel, watching the city. He did not approach her for fear of frightening her.”
“I wonder who that could be?” said Dave.
“I don’t need three guesses!” said Al with a laugh. “How many ‘females’ do we know that would pull a crazy stunt like this?”
“Pam!”
“
I’d bet a month’s pay on it!” said Al. “We had better go out on the ledge alone and tell her about the Hansa. Hanomer, could you take us there?”
“The scout and I will go with you,” said Hanomer.
The scout led them to a vertical fissure and began climbing up the cleft. Handholds and footholds had been cut into the rock at intervals, to aid the ascent. After climbing about 200 feet, the scout entered a horizontal shaft. When Dave reached the opening he saw in the pale light a narrow passage that descended gradually. As he followed the scout he heard the gurgling of water and soon saw a stream bubbling out of the rock. The stream was little more than a rivulet, but the passage was increasing in height so that it was large enough for even Al and Dave to walk upright. The water was cold and clear, and they frequently had to skirt pools whose depths were beyond the reach of their gourd lights. The underground brook disappeared into a fissure, and the passage began to climb gently.
Finally they saw light ahead. Hanomer and the scout stopped, and the scout waved Al and Dave forward. They crept out of the opening to the edge of the ledge and peered over. They seemed to be directly over the tower rubble but much higher up than the sentry ledge and even higher than the ledge that Dave had used with Hanomer. In the middle of the open plaza below, a great crowd of ape¬men were pulling on ropes. Despite their prodigious strength, whatever they were pulling moved very slowly. Finally a very large wagon came into view, dragged by six rhinoceros¬like creatures assisted by the ape¬men. On the wagon lay a huge statue. The statue had the face of a vulture, staring up into the sky, with clawed and taloned feet.
As Dave saw the horrible statue, he remembered from the nightmare in the cavern and held his breath. He could see the threefold symmetry of the statue, with the other two heads resting on the wagon. What are they doing with that thing? Are they bringing out all five of the guardians?
Dave felt Al’s hand on his shoulder, and when he turned he saw Al pointing straight down. Thirty feet directly below them, Dave saw a prone figure lying on a ledge. Even from the back he could tell it was Pam.
The Halcyon Dislocation Page 31