by J Gurley
Two Clouds rose from the table. Grabbing his bow, he drew back the string, smiling when it produced no pain. “I will guard the corridor,” he said and walked off.
“Amazing,” Hramack said. “Our ancestors were capable of doing all this, and still they chose to destroy each other. Just think of what wonders must be left in Denver Dome.”
“Let’s get the lieutenant ready,” Anderson suggested. His impatience made his words sound gruff.
While Cathi received a much-needed transfusion and Kena rested, Hramack toured the medical center, examining each new piece of medical equipment, writing a mental wish list. He discovered a library of digital medical texts and skimmed through them on the screen. He found a new use for a microwave autoclave sterilizer, using it to cook their fish in just a few minutes’ time. He picked the flakey, white meat from the bones, savoring its delicate flavor. After one of the tiny pin bones stuck his cheek, he carefully picked through the remainder of his meal. He made Kena eat to build his strength; then, checked the medical database for a drug that would aid Kena’s recovery. Finding a suitable medicine, he injected it into his father’s arm. Within minutes, his color and strength had returned.
Kena, fully recovered, scanned Cathi’s shoulder, as she lay on the table silent and pale. The point of the arrow was dangerously close to the artery, but the sharp edges of the flat point were oriented away from it. It would have been a risky operation for him to perform with his limited equipment at home, but its removal would be easy for the automated surgical machine.
Two Clouds burst into the room before he could begin. “Marauders! A dozen or more are moving this way. We must leave.”
“We can’t,” Kena replied. “The woman will die.”
“We can’t fight them all. They are too many,” Two Clouds insisted. Hramack looked at Kena and knew his father would not leave Cathi behind. He had to buy his father, and her, more time. “I’ll go with Two Clouds and try to lead them away. You and Anderson stay with her to perform the operation. When she’s able to move, join Grey Eagle at the control center.”
“No,” Kena said. “Send Two Clouds for Grey Eagle. We can barricade the door until they arrive.”
“We may draw Grey Eagle into a battle he cannot win.”
“Hramack is right,” Two Clouds said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “We can lead them away from here. Your machinery has made me hale again. I can fight if need be.”
“I’m going with you,” Anderson said. “Lieutenant Lorst does not need me here.”
Hramack studied the man from the stars; saw the determination in his eyes. He was no warrior. But then, until this journey, neither was I.
“What about your leg?”
Anderson brushed aside Hramack’s concern. “It’s nothing. Sore muscles.”
“All right.” He turned to Kena. “We’ll pile debris against the outer door. Perhaps they won’t look too closely, especially if we show ourselves to them.”
Kena embraced Hramack, a display of affection that normally would have embarrassed him. However, this time, with the real prospect that he would never see his father again, he cherished the moment.
“Go with Yarah, my son. Stay safe.”
With a last glance at the comatose Cathi Lorst, Hramack joined Two Clouds and Anderson. The three of them began gathering overturned tables and loose trash and piling it in front of the door. Satisfied with their handiwork, Two Clouds erased all signs that anyone had entered the room by scattering dust over the area. They raced to the end of the corridor just in time to see the burning torches of Marauders approaching from a side corridor. Two Clouds let out a loud war whoop to get their attention and fired an arrow, striking one of them in the shoulder. The man howled in pain. The others growled in anger and attacked.
Two Clouds grinned at Hramack. “Good, we have their attention. Now, let us give these mongrels a good run.”
The three of them retreated down the corridor just ahead of the pursuing Marauders, past the entrance to the infirmary, and into the darkness beyond.
26
A Proposal of Marriage
Teela listened quietly through the partially opened door as Madras spoke with her grandfather. She was ashamed at her impropriety but knew the discussion was about her.
“Kaffa,” Madras said. “Hramack has been gone almost three weeks. They are not returning to Ningcha. Even if they did return, they face death for the murder of Eithan.”
“Perhaps there are others to blame for your cousin’s death,” Kaffa suggested.
Madras’ face turned pale. Teela saw his Adam’s apple quivering. She knew her grandfather suspected Chu Li in Eithan’s murder. Madras’ nervousness verified it.
“I … I don’t know what you mean,” he sputtered. His eyes darted around the room.
“The truth will come out, eventually,” Kaffa told him. “Will you stand by the High Priest’s side then?”
“I came to speak of Teela,” Madras cried out. He settled in his chair to regain his composure. “There is no question of Teela’s marrying Hramack now. It would benefit the entire village if she were to consent to marry my youngest son, Juresh, before Chu Li orders it tomorrow.”
Teela gasped, and then put her hand over her mouth to avoid betraying her presence.
Kaffa smiled. “You mean it would benefit you and Chu Li. With Teela in your household, you think to silence me.” He stood abruptly, grabbed his staff from its place leaning against the wall, and held it in the air. “Kena and Hramack risk their lives even now to save our village, while Chu Li seeks only to gather more power for himself. The people are beginning to question him. He sacrificed a goat and still the water has not returned. He sacrificed a cow and still the waters have not returned. What will he sacrifice next – one of us?”
Kaffa stalked across the room until he towered over Madras, the tip of his staff inches from the startled stone carver’s face. “Chu Li no longer speaks for Yarah. He speaks for himself. Go! Tell your master that I will not rest until he is finished in this village. I have seen the return of the water in my dreams with Kena and Hramack riding the crest of the waves. The old ways died because the people desired it. They will not allow the harsh days of religious rule to return. I, too, was reluctant to embrace Kena’s searching of the past, but we must if we are to survive.”
As Kaffa spoke, Madras slowly stood and backed toward the door. He ran out without closing it behind him.
Teela burst through the door to her room and flung her arms around Kaffa. “Grandfather, thank you!”
Kaffa smiled at her. “I will not forsake your happiness, ever,” he promised.
“You’re wonderful.”
Kaffa eased her from around him and into a chair. “There is danger still. If the waters do not return soon, we all perish. Already, Chu Li is claiming it is our lot to perish because of Kena’s delving into the past. I fear him.”
“The people will not –” she began.
Kaffa cut her off. “The people are afraid. They will act but perhaps not before it is too late.”
“Hramack will return,” she said boldly. “You saw it yourself, in a dream.”
Kaffa dropped his head. “I said that to frighten Madras. My dream … my dream was not as bright.”
Teela steeled herself for bad news. “Tell me.”
“I saw Hramack bound and carried toward his enemies. I felt much hatred from them.”
“Other people?” Teela gasped. “The savages of the wastes.”
“No. That is the strange part. They were not savages, as we believed. They were … like us. Perhaps that will make all the difference. Come, Teela. It grows late. You should sleep.”
She knew she could not sleep. Thoughts of Hramack in danger plagued her mind. “Yes, grandfather,” she answered, but when he entered his room, she quietly left the house to walk and think.
The village was quiet. Usually, the early night reeled with song or the playing of musical instruments. None had the energy now. Lack of
water was taking its toll on everyone. In the distance, she heard a child crying and wondered if it was crying because it was thirsty. The Council had reduced the water ration yet again. She touched her hair. It felt limp and stringy. She had not washed it in many days. She smiled as she remembered Hramack’s hand running through her hair and the way he enjoyed the smell of her shampoo.
“Oh, Hramack, where are you?” she cried into the night. With tears in her eyes, she returned to her room, knowing morning would find her bed untouched.
27
Top of the Mountain
Cathi’s rapid recovery astonished Kena. The remarkable medical equipment had not only located the arrow point and stabilized it, but had gently removed it with minimal damage to the surrounding tissue and cauterized the wound. It had chosen a combination of drugs of which he had only a vague idea of their purpose and added them to the whole blood IV dripping into her arm. Within hours, she was conscious and able to sit up.
“I’m hungry,” she complained, looking around the unfamiliar room. “Where are we?” She frowned and glanced down at her injured shoulder. Only then did she notice her nudity. She pulled the sheet up around her chest. “I remember being struck by the arrow, but I didn’t think it was that bad, at least until I woke up here.”
“If not for the equipment here, still functioning after all these years, you would have died.” He looked sheepishly at the floor. “It was beyond my meager capabilities to save you.”
She recognized Kena’s anguish. “Yet you kept me alive until we reached this place. Do you think I would have lived if you had not been a Healer?”
Kena smiled at her attempt to salve his bruised ego. “Perhaps not, but you are a strong woman and very much alive now. The color has returned to your cheeks and your eyes – well, they look as alive as they did when I first saw you fighting back the Marauders.” He blushed, and then stammered, “Well, I will prepare you some food.”“Did you undress me?” she asked, holding out the sheet.
Kena’s face reddened. “It was necessary. I am, after all, a Healer. It was either me or my son.”
“It’s okay. Nudity is more acceptable in my culture. Sometimes I wear no clothing at all,” she added, and then began to lower the sheet.
“It is unseemly,” Kena protested. “You are my patient, but …”
“Did you like what you saw?”
Kena sputtered uncomfortably. “Your food is ready.”
He noticed her grin and realized that she had been jesting with him. He returned her smile and handed her a bowl of hot soup filled with fish and vegetables. Its hearty aroma filled the room. She inhaled deeply, wrapped the sheet around her body, and sat on the edge of the table. The thin material of the sheet could not hide the curves of her body or her pert breasts. The need to prepare her for surgery had tempered his earlier brief glimpse at her naked body. He had been in healer mode. Now, he found himself drawn to her, both for her physical beauty and for her strength of character.
Utterly famished, she practically poured the soup down her throat in her haste to eat. She smiled and handed Kena the empty bowl.
“Thank you, Kena. That was great. I feel as if I haven’t eaten in days.”
Kena looked at the empty bowl and smiled. “It appears your appetite has recovered. Would you like more?”
“No, thank you. Where are the others?”
Kena wondered the same thing. It had been almost four hours since they had led the Marauders away from the infirmary. He had heard nothing of them since. “Grey Eagle is guarding the control center. Hramack and Anderson are … away.”
“Which one is Grey Eagle?” she asked.
To help take her mind from the dangers around them, he filled her in on his and Hramack’s journey from Ningcha and their meeting with Grey Eagle at Pueblo Nuevo. Hramack had told her a little about their journey when he had been her prisoner, but he had mentioned no names.
“This Grey Eagle seems to be quite a man. I remember seeing him in action during the fight. He was quite an imposing figure for an old man.”
“Yes, and a strong leader also,” Kena added.
Cathi looked at him. “I think you are an imposing character as well. The others followed you here, far away from their homes, in a quest you proposed. Your son braved the threats of the Burning Lands, as you call them, to find you. I think you will become a great leader after this adventure.” She looked directly into Kena’s eyes. “I would follow you.”
Kena blustered and fumbled with the equipment on the table. He had not thought too much about women since the death of his wife, but this strange woman from the stars stirred something in his blood that went beyond the fact of her exotic origin or even her honest beauty. Her fiery red hair was unknown to his people. Her hair and the paleness of her skin gave her the appearance of a goddess. She seemed a match with him in both personality and intellect. His heart fluttered. It was silly of him to think that such a woman, who knew the stars of hundreds of worlds, would find him anything but a provincial savage.
“How long have they been gone?”
“Several hours.”
She touched a finger to her throat above her sternum and spoke. “Anderson? Do you read me?” She paused, and then repeated it.
Kena stared at her, mystified by her actions. “What are you doing?”“I have a comm unit embedded in my throat and a receiver in my mastoid bone. It’s mainly used for shipboard communication, but we’ve used it here.” She frowned. “No response. He could be out of range.”
“Perhaps the metal in the building blocks the radio waves.”“You know about radios?”
Slightly miffed by her remark, he replied, perhaps more sharply than he needed, “We are not backwards primitives in spite of our appearance. I have constructed a crude radio in my village, but I have never contacted anyone else.”
Chagrined, she said, “I did not mean to imply . . .”
At a sudden noise outside the door, he cautioned her to silence.”
Cathi had heard it too. “Have your friends returned?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he answered, but it sounded as if many men were scuffling about the corridor. He went to the door to listen more closely.
“Check each door! Find them!” he heard an unfamiliar voice yell.
“Marauders,” he whispered to her.
She looked around the room. “What do we do, fight them?”
“No, they are too many.” He rolled a large piece of equipment in front of the door and blocked its wheels. “That should slow them down,” he said.
He tossed her the jumpsuit he had removed for her surgery. She dropped the sheet and pulled it on, stopping briefly to stare at the bloody hole in the shoulder, allowing him time to confirm that his first impression about the perfection of her body was correct. No time for this, he chided himself.
He hurriedly began to throw open cabinets and doors he had not yet opened. He found more machinery and medical supplies but no exit. She pointed to a smaller panel on one wall near the pint where the cleaning robots had emerged.
“That looks like a service duct.”
“A what?” Kena asked.
“A passageway allowing maintenance personnel access to plumbing, electrical, or ventilation systems.” She had begun to pry the panel away from the wall as she spoke. Inside, a narrow tunnel disappeared into the darkness. “It will be a tight fit, but we can make it.”
Kena eyed the narrow opening with doubt. “It is too small to turn around in. We could become trapped,” he said.
“It should lead to a larger, central passage,” she said. The Marauders began to pound on the door loudly. “We don’t have much choice.”
“I suppose not,” Kena reluctantly agreed. He gathered their supplies and weapons and tied one end of a short leather thong around them. He then secured the other end to his leg. “To drag them behind me,” he replied to her questioning look. “If I push them ahead of me, I will be unable to see where I’m going.” He held his flashlight in one
hand and knife in the other. “I will lead,” he said. “Try to close the panel behind us. It may buy us some time.”
Before entering through the panel, he activated the cleaning robots, hoping their activity would mimic the sound of humans and confuse the Marauders. The confines of the river tunnel had not affected him, but the narrow service duct made him nervous. His shoulders brushed the sides, and he kept bumping his head on the low ceiling. He feared he would become stuck and die trapped in a square tube of dark metal. He glanced back to see that Cathi had managed to close the panel and followed close behind him. He knew the duct would place a strain on her shoulder. Even the wonders of technology could not quickly heal bruised and damaged flesh. He only hoped the effort would not reopen her wound.
Kena heard a crash behind him as the Marauders forced open the door. They began overturning equipment and smashing glass in their frenzied search of the room. He hoped they did no serious damage to the medical equipment. He had hopes of salvaging and studying it. If he could get it back to Ningcha, it would save many lives.
The sounds died away behind them. They crawled for what seemed like hours, but in reality was less than twenty minutes before reaching a T-junction in the tiny tunnel. Left or right? It did not seem to matter. He chose right. Another fifteen minutes passed before the tunnel intersected a larger corridor in which they were able to stand. It felt good to stretch cramped muscles. He checked her wound. She was sore and in pain, but otherwise looked very well. There was no bleeding. They rested for a few minutes, Kena carefully listening for sounds of pursuit. None came. The Marauders either had missed the access duct in their search and attributed their escape to magic, or were afraid to enter it.
The larger passageway accommodated rows of large pipes overhead and boxes filled with electronic equipment along the walls. There was a definite hum in the air, like the buzz of angry insects. Lights placed at intervals in the ceiling illuminated the passageway. Tunnels similar to the one through which they had traveled entered the corridor at several spots along the wall. A procession of small mobile machines came and went, ignoring the two intruders, bent on their preprogrammed tasks.