Pools of Yarah

by J Gurley

  Hardy considered Kena’s words. “Earth should be for Earthmen,” he stated.

  Kena slowly shook his head. “Left on our own, it would take hundreds of years to rebuild, perhaps longer. The other worlds will not wait that long. With the Trade Guild’s help, we can do it in ten. They can help protect us until we are ready to protect ourselves. If we disregard them now, who can say who will follow them here intent on conquest. No, we must accept their aid and agree to some of their terms. This includes settlers.”

  “Then we will do it,” Hardy said and reached out his hand to Kena’s. “I want to be alive when we rebuild our country, our new world.”

  “We have much to learn from each other,” Kena told him. “First thing, do you know how to get the water flowing to my village again?”

  Hardy hung his head. “We know little about the pumping station under the mountain. My people fear to go there. It was a simple thing to restore our water, but yours, I do not know.”

  “I can.” They turned to see Anderson smiling. Two days of rest and food and Kena’s ministrations had wrought wonders in him. His limp was barely noticeable. Cathi stood beside him. “I believe I know what the problem is. We just need to find the damaged section of pipe and repair or replace it. It must be located beneath the pumping facility. The necessary tools and equipment to do the job should not be that difficult to locate.”

  Kena raised his eyes to the heavens. “Thank you, Yarah,” he whispered.

  While Kena was whispering his silent prayer of thanks to Yarah, a bright light filled the sky overhead. Startled that it was in response to his prayer, he averted his eyes. Only when he heard Cathi’s joyous laughter, did he glance up. The light was smaller now but moving swiftly across the horizon and descending.

  “It’s my ship,” she began screaming. “It’s the Baldry!” She grabbed Kena and kissed him. “You were right,” she told him softly; then she danced away and screamed, “They’re alive!”

  He turned to an equally startled Hardy. “We shall soon have the opportunity to meet the Trade Guild. You can judge for yourself if they are worthy of our trust.”

  The ship landed in a clearing less than a kilometer from the town. At first frightened, people’s curiosity soon overcame their fear, and they began to gather around the ship. As the landing ramp descended, Cathi led the way, running. Less than a dozen meters from the ship, she suddenly stopped running and began walking slowly as she brushed off her threadbare uniform. Like her, it was now clean, but the journey had reduced it to tatters.

  “She’s an officer,” Anderson whispered to Kena in explanation. “It wouldn’t look good for her to be seen running up to the ship yelling like a castaway.” He winked.

  Kena wasn’t certain he understood, but nodded. A rotund man with a beard stood at the foot of the ramp. Cathi saluted as she approached. To her surprise, the red-bearded captain grabbed her in a big hug, lifted her from the ramp, and then set her back down.

  Cathi’s voice trembled in anguish, as she reported the deaths of Whitehall and Pegari.

  “It is a sad loss,” the captain said in a booming voice. “We shall miss them, but you’re alive, and I see you and Mr. Anderson have made friends. That’s good. We seem to have disturbed the natives.” He crooked his finger, and Chancellor Pachmarudhi walked out of the ship looking downcast and frightened.

  “This is Chancellor Inaya Pachmarudhi, a high-echelon windbag from Kolkata Dome.” He looked Pachmarudhi in the eye. “He can’t be trusted, but we’ve had time to talk a bit on the journey here. I believe she now sees the mutual benefit of allying herself and her people with yours.”

  Pachmarudhi shot Moore a withering glance that could have singed his beard, but he smiled and nodded. “It will please me to learn more about your people. Captain Moore,” she said with undisguised hatred, “has told me that we can all benefit greatly by presenting one face to the Scattered Ones as they return to their Homeworld.”

  Kena immediately distrusted her, but knew the Chancellor, as a representative of Kolkata Dome, would have to be included in any negotiations with the Trader’s Guild. If Earth were to survive the coming years of contact, they would need the help of Kolkata Dome. He supposed this was his first lesson in politics.

  Moore spoke up. “I believe Pachmarudhi here fears your people. It seems her ancestors were once the rulers of Denver Dome, before your people threw them out.” His loud guffaw made Pachmarudhi wince. Kena would have known Captain Moore was a good man even if Cathi had not assured him so.

  Kena laughed. “We will be too busy rebuilding our own country to worry with them, though we will accept any help they wish to offer or trade for. And you, Captain Moore. What do you want of us?”

  “I am a merchant, sir. I come to trade. Politics bore me. My people will make no claim to Homeworld, though many will wish to come as settlers, I’m sure. Earth will be a balm for their souls and an ointment for their hearts.” He cocked his head to one side. “What do you want, Kena?”

  Kena sighed. “I want to go home. It has been a long journey. But first, I must ask a favor.”

  “Ask.”

  “I have failed to bring the water back to my village from the pumping facility under the mountain. Anderson says you may be able to help us.”

  “Well, for starters, I think I can get you back there much quicker than your trip here. Come. Let’s talk.”

  Hardy turned to Pachmarudhi. “Are there many people left on Earth?”

  Pachmarudhi drew closer, as if in hardy she had spotted a kindred spirit. “From what we have managed to observe from our satellites, there are scattered bands of people here in the southwest and southeast, as well as near a series of small lakes far to the north. A few small villages remain in northern Europe but no cities. Perhaps there is a scattering of people on small islands in the salt oceans, but sadly we few are all that remain.”

  Kena noticed Pachmarudhi carefully did not reveal how many people remained in Kolkata Dome. Hardy missed this omission. “We should talk, you and I,” he said.

  “Indeed. That is my wish also.”

  *

  To Kena, it had felt like pulling teeth, but finally they had reached an agreement concerning possible settlement and trade with the Traders Guild and had agreed to form an Earth Council to meet later to finalize details. Kena had concerns about both Pachmarudhi and Hardy. Both appeared overly ambitious and eager to lead the Council. He feared trouble later, a conflict of wills, but he knew they could not achieve perfection in one meeting. Over time, as each realized the needs of Earth, he was hopeful they could arrive at a position that would benefit all.

  Captain Moore had told him of the plight of the people of Kolkata Dome and of their great numbers. He wished there was something he could do about it, but it was beyond his ability. The Guild could take no active part in change, but Cathi had told him that the Guild could initiate subtle changes through trade agreements. Certainly, they could accomplish nothing from New Denver, as Hardy was calling his new city rising from the ashes of Denver Dome. They had problems enough. He regretted that they would be cooperating with a power with so little regard for its citizens. All peoples deserved to live in freedom. After all, it was that very desire for freedom that had prevented his ancestors from abandoning Earth ten millennia earlier.

  Using the Baldry, Moore transported them to the underground pumping facility under Mount Lincoln, named, he learned, after a past U.S. president who had presided over America during a great civil war. It had taken Anderson less than ten minutes to locate the proper diagnostic screen on the computer in the control room.

  He pointed to a long corridor on one of the video monitors. “This corridor contains the overflow pipes that control water flow to your villages. They operate only when the lake becomes too full from melting snow. The damage has to be there.” He touched a point on the screen to enlarge it, revealing a darkened section of the corridor and a pool of water. “We should be able to repair the damage and reset the overflow par
ameters to assure a constant flow of water to your villages.”

  “Remarkable,” Hramack said.

  Kena’s words were more humble. “Praise Yarah.”

  The four of them – Cathi, Kena, Anderson, and Hramack – rode an antigravity sled down the long corridor, following a large pipe running the corridor’s length. After half a kilometer, the tunnel grew darker as they neared the damaged area.

  “The corridor is blocked,” Hramack said, pointing to a pile of stone and masonry filling the corridor from floor to ceiling. A section of pipe lay crushed beneath the heavy fall. A pool of water lapped against the rocks, leakage from their earlier attempt to start the pump.

  “Now we know what stopped the water,” Anderson said.

  “Perhaps an earthquake caused this,” Kena suggested. “I have felt tremors many times in the past.” He got out of the sled and waded through waist-high water to examine the landslide. “It will take weeks to clear this rubble and repair the pipe.”

  Hramack’s heart thundered in his chest. “Everyone will be dead by then.” Teela!

  Anderson spoke up. “I don’t think so, Hramack. With the heavy machinery we found in the garage and some additional manpower, we can have this cleared and the water on its way to your village in a day or two.”

  “This is true?” Hramack asked.

  “For a fact,” Anderson told him.

  Hramack’s burden lifted. “Then we did not fail.” He was overjoyed that he would soon return to Teela.

  “Let’s return to the Baldry and set things up,” Anderson suggested.

  *

  “We can help you rebuild your world,” Captain Moore told Kena as they drank coffee on his ship.

  Hramack lounged beside his father on a low couch, sipping the beverage that had once been so ubiquitous on Earth but now grew only on a few of the outer worlds. He found the taste slightly bitter, even with the added sugar, but his heart raced from the caffeine it contained. He suspected that coffee would soon become a cherished trade item for the captain, especially as water became more available. They had cleared away the rockslide using the heavy earth-moving equipment in the garage. Hardy’s men had supplied the labor.

  After replacing the damaged section of pipe, with a simple touch of his finger, Kena had sent water flooding the chamber and rushing toward Ningcha. It had seemed to Hramack a decidedly anticlimactic ending for such a dramatic adventure.

  “In exchange for what?” Kena asked the captain.

  Moore laughed. “There is technology far beyond what we have. We will study it and teach your people to use it. We would both learn from the exchange.”

  “A fair exchange,” he agreed. “I’ll bring it before the Earth Council when we next meet,” Kena said.

  Hramack smiled at his father. He had taken on the mantle of leadership. He thought it fit his father well.

  More laughed. “You’re quickly becoming a good politician, Kena.”

  “Earth will need politicians as well as Healers.”

  “Well, gentlemen, I promised you a quick ride home. I think it’s time to go.”

  “How long will it take the water to reach Ningcha?” Hramack asked.

  Moore gave the question a moment’s thought, then smiled broadly. “I’m not sure, a few days. We can track its progress underground with our scanners if you wish.” He cocked his head. “Why?”

  Kena was beginning to suspect what was on Hramack’s mind. “I think my son believes our people need a miracle.”

  “I can’t wait to see the look on Chu Li’s face when we return,” Hramack said.

  “Yes, Chu Li,” Kena said absently, as he thought about the reason for their leaving. “There will be a reckoning.” He turned to Moore. “Yes, Captain, it is well indeed time to go home. We’ve been away far too long and there are changes we must make.”

  Moore saw the grim look on Kena’s face. “I wouldn’t want to be the man deserving of that look.”

  Hramack was concerned for his father. He had no doubt that he could best Chu Li in any fight, but wondered how the High Priest’s death would affect him as a Healer. It was true that his father had taken lives on their journey, but that had been in battle against an enemy that showed no quarter. To kill someone you knew face-to-face, however dangerous, would be a difficult thing to do. It would be an even harder deed to live with.

  35

  Homecoming

  Teela sat on a rock by the edge of the cliff and contemplated the darkest thoughts she had ever felt. It had been weeks since Hramack and his father had left the village. The cisterns were almost dry. Earlier that morning an argument had erupted at one of the cisterns between two women over a broken jug of water. One of the women had broken down in hysterical tears.

  Chu Li had announced her marriage to Juresh, Madras’ youngest son. Though Kaffa was adamantly against it, his health was failing. The pressure of resisting Chu Li and his refusal to drink more than a few mouthfuls of water each day had taken their toll on him. Teela feared the worst. If anything happened to her grandfather, she would have no choice in the matter. She had felt things could get no worse when they had sacrificed a goat to Yarah. She had been wrong.

  People were afraid to leave their homes for fear of becoming targets of accusations as the source of the ills that the village faced. The crying of fevered children had replaced the sounds of people singing. The dust fever now affected many. If only Kena would return, she thought. Oh, Hramack!

  There was no water for the animals. They had brought all of them up from the canyon bottom to the pens in preparation for their eventual slaughter. The village was nearing its end. If Hramack did not return soon, she would fling herself over the precipice and onto the rocks below. She would never marry another and could not bear to face life without him.

  She heard Kaffa’s cough as he walked up to her. It sounded like a death rattle.

  “Why do you sit here alone, child?” he asked. He sat beside her, using his staff to lower his frail body to the stone. She noticed the dark circles around his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands.

  “Grandfather, you look ill. Have you had your water ration today?”

  He did not answer.

  “You cannot continue to do this,” she said, chiding him. “You will die.”

  “Death will be welcome, my dear. I am too old to watch others die.”

  “Nonsense. The village needs you. I need you.”

  “I am useless. I fear I can no longer protect you from Chu Li. The people avoid me now for fear of Chu Li’s wrath.”

  “I will kill him,” she said quietly. She didn’t really know if she was capable of murder, but her loathing for the High Priest might just push her to such an extreme measure.

  Kaffa patted her hand and smiled weakly. “Now, Teela. You cannot do such a thing. Chu Li will get what he deserves.”

  “He deserves death,” she cried, thinking of Hramack. “He has robbed me of my future.”

  Kaffa was distracted. He raised his head and stared at the sky. “Funny. I thought I heard thunder, but that is impossible.” He shook his head. “I am getting too old.”

  “No, grandfather,” Teela said, listening. “I heard it too.” She scanned the sky for the sound she had heard. “There are no clouds. Perhaps it was merely a rockslide down the valley.” She glanced at the rim of the canyon once more, as she had many times over the past three weeks, hoping to see Hramack walking down the path. Since her nightmare, she held a secret fear that she would never see him again. To her disappointment, all she saw was shimmering waves of heat rising from the rock.

  Chu Li, more pompous than ever since the departure of Kena and Hramack, slowly made his way to the edge of the cliff for the Morning Prayers. Slowly, the villagers gathered around him. Like sheep, she thought bitterly. Since Alton’s attack and death, the prayers had become more fervent, almost frantic.

  “We will pray to Yarah together to ask his forgiveness,” Chu Li commanded. “The blasphemers are dead. I have se
en it in a vision. The waters will come.” He raised his staff above his head and waved it in the air.

  Teela gasped at his announcement of Hramack’s death. Kaffa touched her shoulder and shook his head. “Be strong,” he said. He faced the crowd and raised his voice. “I do not think so, Chu Li,” he challenged, his voice sounding once again strong and loud. “Behold.”

  He raised his staff and pointed to the path leading from the canyon rim. Five mirage figures marched toward them, angels floating above the ground on waves of shimmering heat. One of the figures broke away from the others, flying down the path toward the village. As the illusion broke, it became a man running, one Teela recognized.

  “Hramack,” she yelled. Her heart pounded with relief and delight.

  “It is the blasphemer,” Chu Li cried. “Seize them!”

  A few men moved to intercept Kena and Hramack, but most remained where they were, curious about the strangers accompanying them. Teela raced ahead of them, intent on begging Hramack to run away, intent on fleeing with him if necessary, anything to be with him again. Two of the figures wore curious blue one-piece jumpsuits. One was a redheaded woman whose skin was so pale it almost glowed, the other darker than anyone she had ever seen. Before Teela could wonder where they had come from, the woman produced a device from her belt and pointed it at the opposite canyon cliff. A beam of light shot from the device and struck the cliff. A shower of rocks erupted from the cliff wall and cascaded down into the canyon. Teela froze at the display of power, afraid that the woman would mistake her headlong rush to save Hramack as an attack.

  “Chu Li, people of Ningcha,” Kena cried out as he approached, “Kaffa. I want you to meet Grey Eagle of Pueblo Nuevo, my new friend.”

  A towering, broad-shouldered man with his long grayish hair tied into a ponytail unlimbered his bow, but rested one end of the bow on the ground in front of him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Chu Li.

  “These are also new friends.” Kena lifted his hand and pointed at the two figures in blue. “They are of the Scattered Ones returned from the stars. They have sought us out after a thousand years. We are no longer alone. With their help, we will bring back the waters to the Pools of Yarah. With their help, we can rebuild the Earth to its former glory.”