Pools of Yarah

by J Gurley

  “Repair drones and automated cleaning machinery,” she suggested. “They won’t bother us.”

  Kena looked unsure when he saw one small machine festooned with numerous cutting devices. “If you say so.”

  She was busy examining recessed boxes in the ceiling from which the hum emanated. “These seem to be power relays of some type, receiving microwaves from a central source and broadcasting it to the lighting and various pieces of machinery: power without wires. This would reduce power loss due to resistance and distance. Remarkable.”

  She had lost him with her explanations, but Kena sensed her excitement. “Could this power be broadcast a very great distance?” he asked.

  “I’m sure it could,” she answered, still examining the emitters.

  “Then it could be broadcast to Ningcha.”

  She followed Kena’s reasoning. “I see what you mean. Yes, it could broadcast anywhere on the planet if the source was powerful enough. With a receiver in your village, you would have unlimited power.”

  Kena envisioned his village lighted and powered by such a source independent of the uncertainty of sun and wind. Pumps for water and power for machinery, even such equipment as they had seen in the infirmary, would ease their labor considerably. More time could be devoted to living than to simple survival. With a constant source of water and power, the people would be more reluctant to let a tyrant such as Chu Li control their destiny. There would be no reason to abandon Yarah, only Yarah’s self-appointed, power-hungry priest.

  The corridor continued for several kilometers with service ducts and smaller corridors at intervals along the way. Cathi attempted to contact Anderson several more times with no results. He could see the worry on her face. He tried to fathom the markings at the junctions, but without a point of reference, they meant nothing. They wandered for hours until they came upon yet another intersection.

  “You decide this time,” he told Cathi. He was tired of making perhaps the wrong choices. Perhaps it was time to let her lead. It would also serve to take her mind off her companion.

  She pointed to a door a few meters down one of the branches. “That one.”

  By the desperation in her voice, Kena knew her wound was aching horribly, and he had no way to relieve her pain. With her agony and her inability to contact Anderson, she was becoming more irritable and cranky as time wore on. Other than its larger size, he saw no difference between that particular door and any other of the hundreds of doorways they had passed in the last several hours. Most of the doors opened only onto small rooms filled with tools or electronic equipment or were empty. He shrugged. Anything would be a change from the constant sameness of the endless service corridors.

  As they approached, he noticed what she had spotted: an illuminated panel beside the door. Above the door, engraved on a metal plaque, were the words – Level 7, Section C.

  “It’s a service elevator,” she said, the smile returning to her face for the first time in hours.

  She touched the panel, and the door slid open. Beyond lay only a small room. Before Kena could put voice to his frustration, she pressed the top position on a panel inside the room. He lurched backwards as the room began moving upwards. His weight increased as the elevator picked up speed. Numbers flashed on the panel in rapid succession – 7, 15, 21. When the elevator stopped suddenly, his weight lessened, threatening to bring his stomach up into his throat. The panel indicated 65. The door opened, revealing a short corridor with a single door set in a metal wall. Still reeling from his rapid ascent, he allowed her to exit first.

  The door was different from any other door they had encountered. It was oval in shape set in the wall a few centimeters above the floor. A metal wheel in the middle connected to a series of metal bars extending to the edges of the door. A heavy flexible gasket filled the gap between door and bulkhead. Kena placed his hand on a small screen beside the door, but nothing happened. He tried to turn the wheel, but it would not budge.

  “Is it rusted shut?” Kena asked.

  She examined it closely. “It’s an air-tight security door, meant to give only certain people access to whatever lies beyond it.”

  Kena sighed. “Then we must retrace our steps.” It was a prospect he did not relish, especially the elevator ride back down.

  “Wait,” she said. “Help me pry off this panel. Maybe we can short it out.”

  Kena took his knife and wedged it under the edge of the panel, twisting the blade until the cover popped off, exposing a shallow cavity with hundreds of tiny metallic nodes embedded in a crystal-line surface. Within the clear crystal, a web of lines finer than human hair radiated from the node. Cathi took his knife, pried away one of the nodes, and slid the tip of the blade into the vacated slot. Sparks flew, but the door clicked and opened slightly.

  She looked at Kena’s questioning smile. “I’ve had some practice.”

  This time, the heavy door opened easily when he pushed it. A wave of refreshing cooler air washed over them. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the glaring light. He took a deep breath of air and realized that they were much higher up the mountain, where the air was cooler and thinner. They had emerged onto a terrace carved into the face of the mountain. He walked to a low parapet and gingerly looked down. The lake lay over three thousand meters below, looking no larger than a puddle in the distance. The concrete of the retaining dam shone like a white line in the sun. The mountain peak rose another thousand meters above them. A thin layer of snow still clung to the nooks and crannies of the gray rock. Along the face of the mountain above and around them were a series of stone barricades whose function was the collection of water from the melting snow and channeling it into the lake below.

  She pointed to a cluster of parabolic antennae at one edge of the terrace. “This one is a power emitter, perhaps to other facilities or even Denver Dome. The larger antennae are for communications with orbiting satellites. That would allow this facility to communicate with other domes around the planet or even Mars. I can call my ship.” Her pain forgotten in her glee, she wrapped her arms around Kena, and began to dance around the terrace. “I can call the Baldry. We’re saved.” She suddenly stopped dancing, grabbed Kena’s face with both hands, said, “Thank you,” and kissed him on the lips.

  Surprised, Kena returned her kiss, lightly at first, then, as her lips continued to smash against his, with more passion. Slowly, she broke her kiss and looked him in the eyes. The look of elation on her face changed to one of passion. She kissed him again and, as he wrapped his arms tightly around her gave in to the moment. Their kiss lasted several minutes. Kena attributed her passion as elation at surviving danger, but how would he classify his reaction?

  337

  Reluctantly breaking apart, she said, “Well, that was nice. I’m glad to see you Earthers haven’t changed too much.”

  Confused both by her sudden change in behavior and by his eagerness to give in to the urges he felt, he muttered, somewhat clumsily, “The sun will set soon. We should eat and rest. It would be best if we spend the night here. I do not relish the thought of those endless corridors again.”

  “Nor do I.” She rubbed her shoulder. Kena wished he had something with which to ease her pain. “Tell me about your people, Kena. Are they all like you?”

  Kena laughed. “It would seem not. My son and I are condemned to death on our return for leaving them with no Healer. Perhaps if we had accomplished our goal, they would have been more lenient. With all I have seen in the past few weeks, I don’t know if I can return to such a life, in spite of my duty to them as Healer.”

  She touched his hand gently. “Perhaps you were meant for something greater than Healer. Perhaps your fate is to unite your people, rebuild Earth. We can help, the Traders Guild, I mean. We can offer knowledge and supplies. You have kin on Mars also. They have terra-formed their world. With their help and ours, we could replace Earth’s depleted seas with ice asteroids and rebuild the atmosphere to filter out UV and X-rays, as they have
. The sun is more stable than it was centuries ago and seems to be cooling. Earth’s environment would recover in time. In return, we would ask only free trade with your world. As soon as we return with word that Homeworld has been located, your name will be known throughout the universe.”

  Kena laughed. “My name. Only those I touch will remember my name. The name of Lt. Cathi Lorst of the Merchant Ship Long John Baldry will ring down the centuries throughout the known worlds. You will have your pick of worlds and of men. What will you do with such fame?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered into his ear, “We’ll see. We’ll see.” She then fell fast asleep.

  Kena smiled and made himself more comfortable against the wall. A cool breeze blew across the platform and the stone was cool on his back. He liked the sensation of her head nestled into his shoulder. He had not felt such peace in many years, not since the death of his wife. It was easy to forget the problems they faced and his concerns for his son and his village. There, on the high terrace jutting into space where only the mountain peaks were visible, it was easy for him to stare into the future and see an end to all problems. He closed his eyes and fell asleep feeling only the warm gentle beat of a woman’s heart next to him.

  *

  Hramack, Two Clouds, and Anderson had managed successfully to lead the Marauders away from his father, becoming involved in only one minor skirmish in which they killed two of the Marauders. They lost their pursuers in a maze of narrow, twisting, darkened corridors. Now, they rested in a room that had once served as a conference room. Metal chairs with disintegrating plastic cushions were positioned around a long metal table with darkened screens inset in the tabletop in front of each chair. Anderson sat in one of the chairs, his face across his folded arms resting on the table. He was bravely trying to keep pace with the others, but with his limp, he lagged farther and farther behind. Hramack doubted that he had recovered from his long trek across the Empty Lands to the east. The Star Man’s condition concerned him.

  “Are you all right?” Hramack asked.

  Without looking up, Anderson replied, “Just a few minutes and I’ll be fine. I just need to rest my feet.”

  Hramack looked down at Anderson’s worn and shredded boots and noticed spots of blood staining the leather. “Let me look at them.”

  Anderson loosened the bindings and slipped the boots off. Hramack gasped at what they revealed. Bloody blisters covered both feet. Clotted blood filled his boots, soaking his socks, and causing them to adhere to his anguished feet. Hramack winced when he thought how Anderson had managed to run on two such pieces of such bruised and damaged flesh, yet he had offered no complaint in all the time they had been running.

  Two Clouds looked down at Anderson’s feet and sadly shook his head. “He is a brave man,” he said with respect.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Hramack asked Anderson.

  Anderson shrugged. “We’ve had enough problems as it is. Lieutenant Lorst’s safety came first. There hasn’t been time.”

  Hramack took his water bottle and began to wash Anderson’s feet as gently as he could, knowing each movement caused him extreme pain. Anderson sucked in his breath in agony. He wiped away most of the dried blood and rubbed a soothing salve on the wounds. He then wound his feet in clean bandages.

  “There. That should help a little,” Hramack said. “The salve will ease the pain, but nothing except time will heal the wounds. If they become infected there is little I can for them with what medical supplies I carry. When we get back to the infirmary, my father will do a more thorough job.”

  Anderson grinned. “That feels great. Thanks. I watched you work on the lieutenant and just now on my feet. It’s easy to see you learned much from your father.”

  “He is a great Healer. With what he has learned here, he will be even greater.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You have the touch. You just need the confidence.”

  Anderson’s praise embarrassed him. He held out his hands. “I am clumsy. My hands are too large.”

  Anderson smiled. “My captain is a bigger man than you, and yet he can set the Baldry down as gentle as a feather on top of eggs without cracking them.”

  “I think you jest.”

  Anderson’s chuckle was the first sound of mirth Hramack had heard from hum. “Maybe a little.”

  He glared at his boots, knowing it was necessary to fit his feet back into them. As Hramack help him slip them back onto his feet, it was all he could do to keep from crying out. Hramack knew he was only putting on a brave façade. The pain must have been excruciating, but they had no time to linger. They had to keep moving to stay ahead of the Marauders. He doubted Anderson had much effort left in him. They had to change plans.

  “Two Clouds. Go find Grey Eagle and warn him about the Marauders. I’ll help Anderson back to the infirmary and see to his feet.”

  Two Clouds looked dubious of Hramack’s decision, but he trotted down the corridor. They had seen no other signs of the Marauders for hours. He considered the risk of going back was less than that of trying to stay ahead of the Marauders with Anderson’s crippled feet.

  “The way you found the medical room with the computer,” he asked Anderson. “Could you find a way to get the pumps to operate?” Hramack asked.

  “Perhaps. The schematics are on the computer. There should be a maintenance program.”

  “We managed to get the water started, but a siren sounded and it stopped flowing,” he explained.

  “Sounds like a blocked pipe or valve. It would shut down the system automatically. We would have to locate the damaged section and repair it.”

  Hramack smiled. “Then it can be done?”

  “If the damage is not too severe.”

  Hramack nodded his head. “That is good.”

  Slowly, with Hramack lending his shoulder for support, he and Anderson retraced their steps back to the infirmary. Hramack was dismayed to see that the Marauders had been there before them. They had battered in the door, and the room was in shambles. They had attacked the room with a savagery bordering on psychotic, strewing equipment about the room, breaking glassware, and ripping charts and pictures from the wall. Most of the medical equipment was too sturdy to damage too severely, but they had shattered the computer screens, rendering them useless, and ripped wiring from the walls. To Hramack’s relief, there was no blood and no bodies. He prayed his father and Cathi had escaped. At Anderson’s look of defeat, he said, “If the Marauders had taken my father and Cathi, I don’t think they would have bothered smashing all this. They did this in rage at not finding them.”

  Searching through the debris, Hramack managed to find fresh bandages and a pneumatic hypo containing a painkiller. He stripped off the bloody bandages and rewrapped Anderson’s feet with fresh ones. This time the ordeal was less painful. Some of the blisters bled anew, but the salve was helping to form healthy scabs. When time allowed, he would repair Anderson’s useless boots with the deerskin he had brought back from Royal Gorge. He allowed Anderson to rest while he searched up and down the corridors for some sign of his father’s passing. He found nothing. Knowing Anderson would never make it back to the control center, he settled down to wait on Grey Eagle.

  A short while later, noises in the corridor outside roused him. He glanced over at Anderson, who was fast asleep. The noises grew closer. He hoped it was Two Clouds with Grey Eagle’s men, but he doubted the battle wise leader would allow his men to make so much racket. Alarmed, he awakened Anderson.

  “What”? Anderson began before Hramack silenced him. Then Anderson heard the noise. “Marauders?” he mouthed.

  Hramack nodded. They looked around for a place to hide, but the room was too open and the closets too small. Two armed Marauders walked into the room, saw them, and let out a loud, piercing whistle. Before either Hramack or Anderson could act, two more men hurried into the room to join them, bows drawn with arrows notched and pointed at them.

  The leader looked the
m over. His eyes came to rest on Anderson and his tattered but easily recognizable jumpsuit.

  “Hardy will be pleased we have caught you,” he said. He then turned to Hramack. “You are a southerner, one of the pueblo dwellers. Why have you invaded our territory? Where are the others?”

  Hramack said nothing.

  The leader leaned down until his face was a hand’s width from Hramack’s. His breath was sour. “Do not think us stupid, southerner. You will tell us what we wish to know. You cannot invade our territory at your whim. We will deal with you and your friends harshly.” He glanced at Anderson. “Where is the woman who accompanied you across the eastern plains?”

  Anderson shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  The Marauder leader scowled. “Hardy wishes you brought to him unharmed, but later we will torture you until you talk. Talk now. Better a quick death than a long, slow, painful one.”

  Hramack was proud when instead of flinching, Anderson growled, “Who the hell are you?”

  The man tapped his chest. “I am Victor Juarez, Hardy’s Second-in-Command.” He looked at the bandages on Anderson’s feet. “Can you walk?”

  Hramack quickly realized that this group had not been in contact with the men they had earlier led on a merry chase through the building, or they would have killed him outright for lying to them. He spoke up quickly, seeking to delay them until Grey Eagle arrived with the others.

  “No, his feet are too badly injured. You will have to carry him.”

  Anderson, recognizing Hramack’s ploy played along, wincing as he moved his leg. “I think my ankle’s broken.”

  While Juarez’s men constructed a litter from spears and strips of the plastic that had covered the equipment, one of the Marauders guarded him and Anderson, but his gaze scanned the room, clearly uncomfortable around so much strange machinery.