by Isaac Hooke
A thought occurred to him, and he regarded Al suspiciously. "Why did you bring me here?"
Al looked across the floor, to a frail old pauper dressed in rags, a cane held in palsied hands. The pauper kept his eyes forward, not looking at anyone else, maybe not able to look at anyone else, staring at some distant point on the wall.
"There is an old saying," the frail pauper said. "The truth, to the overwhelming majority of mankind, is indistinguishable from a headache."
"That's Leader," Al whispered.
Hoodwink studied the shabby-looking man. "Leader?"
"Aye, he leads us. I thought you were supposed to be smart?"
Leader focused his attention on Hoodwink suddenly, and those eyes held him in a grip quite unlike anything he'd never felt before. He seemed naked beneath those eyes, as though this man could see through all masks and pretenses and read the true nature of anyone. Hoodwink couldn't look away, though he sorely wanted to.
Leader broke the grip, and resumed his observation of the wall. There was nothing there that Hoodwink could see, except worn, curling wallpaper.
"I'm twenty-nine years old," Leader said. "Could you guess?"
"Thirty-nine here," Vax volunteered.
"Forty-two." Karl Marx.
And so the company rattled off their ages. No one present was over forty-five, though they all looked eighty or more. All save Ari.
"It's the price we pay for vitra," Leader said. "When the gols tell us that they collar us for our own protection, they mean it. Without the collar, the electrical current flows freely through our bodies, and ages us. Rapidly."
Hoodwink studied the man uncertainly.
"That is one truth." Leader nodded to himself. "Do you feel the better for knowing it?"
Hoodwink rubbed his hands together. "I never asked for the truth." He stopped the gesture. It was too much like washing his hands. Of the truth.
"But that's what you'll get when you're with us. The truth. Or a version of it, anyway." Leader gripped his cane tightly, and for a moment Hoodwink thought he was going to stand. But Leader merely shifted in his seat. "Something is wrong with the gols. They have been distracted lately. The gol banker giving out a thousand more drachmae than he should. The gol lutist forgetting his notes halfway through the sonata. The gol butcher misjudging his swing, and cutting off his own hand. The gol executioner, forgetting to sharpen the guillotine blade. I can cite examples from across the city. Then there's that blank, slobbering look so many of them have developed. It's as if they've contracted a plague of the mind."
"But the gols can't get sick," Hoodwink said.
Leader nodded. "So we have been taught. Perhaps they are under an attack of some sort, in the world beyond the Gate where they reside simultaneously to our own. The Outside."
Hoodwink rubbed his arms together, feeling suddenly cold. He didn't like talking about the Outside. No one did. "I don't know what you're talking about. Residing simultaneously. What? And the Outside is dead. Everyone knows that."
Leader arched his eyebrows. "Indeed?"
"And if there really were an attack on the gols," Hoodwink said. "Would that be such a bad thing? I say let them be wiped out. A world without gols is a better world."
Leader smiled. "We blame them for imposing upon our freedoms, for collaring us, for confining us to the cities, it's true."
"And revising those we love!" Hoodwink said.
"And sometimes revising," Leader allowed. "Yes. And they hunt us, the uncollared. The Users. We all hate them, with passion. But at their core, they service us. You do realize this don't you? It's a love hate relationship. Without the infrastructure they provide, civilization as we know it would collapse. We'd fall back into the dark ages, quite literally, and we'd all freeze to death."
Hoodwink wouldn't back down. "And we're not in the dark ages already?"
Leader opened his mouth, but he had no answer to that.
Hoodwink pressed his attack. "Why did you make Ari bomb the Forever Gate?"
"She was merely trying to open a path to the Outside," Leader said. "We want to help the gols with what ails them, you see."
"Help the gols." Hoodwink stood. "I've just about heard enough. You go and enjoy helping your gols." Hoodwink held out a hand to his daughter. "Come on Ari, let's go. You don't need these people ordering you around."
She didn't move.
Hoodwink heard a low buzzing. He glanced around the circle. The elderly men and women had raised their hands, and electricity flowed between them, from fingertip to fingertip.
"Please, Hoodwink, sit down." Leader said. "Please."
Hoodwink lifted his palms in surrender, and sat back down. He was relieved when the electrical flows ceased.
"Your daughter is the one who planned the Gate attack." Leader smiled that distant smile, and his eyes locked on Hoodwink. "Do you want to know the truth? What lies beyond the Forever Gate?"
Hoodwink couldn't answer. That gaze overwhelmed him.
Leader was still smiling when he looked away. "It is a land quite unlike any we have ever known. It— well, it is the land where the gols reside in actuality. As different from this world as the bottom of the ocean is from the top of the sky. In the city, none of the gols can even comprehend our offer of help. It's beyond their programming. We can't break past the generic response loop. But beyond the Gate, they will listen to us. They will."
Hoodwink sat back. "How do you know they'll even want your help?"
Leader sat back. "We don't. But we must try."
"Okay." Hoodwink glanced from face to face. The expressions were grim, and some of those present glowered at him. "You're forgetting one small thing. You have to cross the Gate. Ari couldn't even make a dent in it with that bomb of hers. So as far as I'm concerned, this discussion is pointless. And I still don't know why you're even telling me all this."
"The bomb was only a hope we'd entertained. To create a passage for us all. But there is another way." Leader was silent a moment. He stared at that peeling wallpaper, and the guttering wall candles flicked shadows across his face. "It is a dangerous path, too perilous for most of us. A path only the strong and hale among us can take."
Leader's eyes found Hoodwink, then shifted to Ari, at his side.
Hoodwink realized what the man implied, and he stood. "Ari's not doing it."
"You're not my father anymore, remember that," Ari said quietly.
Hoodwink didn't look at her. "I'll do it. Whatever you planned for her, I'll do. Send me in her place."
Leader nodded to himself. "This is what I want, too. Ari must stay here. Her connections to the mayor are too important. Someone else must go. Someone newly uncollared, yet still strong in body. But you should know, no one we've ever sent beyond the Gate has returned."
"I don't need you to save me," Ari said it to his back.
"I'll do it," Hoodwink said. He wasn't going to lose her again.
Leader nodded solemnly. "If there's anyone you want to say good-bye to, anyone you truly care about, now's the time. Because as I said, no one's ever come back."
Hoodwink glanced at Ari. "I plan to be the first."
CHAPTER SIX
Hoodwink sat in the plush chair in the plush sitting room, right where the maid had told him to. Those cold, travertine walls seemed to be closing in around him. He hated travertine. It was like ice in this weather, and the sitting room had no fireplace. But that was the style of the rich. And the rich so loved imitating the rich.
Well, at least the floor was carpeted. That helped retain some of the heat. Still, it wasn't for the cold that he was shivering. No, he worried what his reception would be. He hadn't come to this place in six months. And visiting now, after what happened yesterday morning... the maid's eyes had nearly bugged out of their head when she saw him, and it was only with an effort that she'd managed to calm herself down after he'd forced his way in.
Hoodwink fingered the false bronze collar the blacksmith Karl Marx had made for him. The sham had worke
d so far. He'd passed a group of gol soldiers on the way here. Though it was broad daylight, and the snowstorm had let up, the men hadn't even spared him a glance.
He was staring at a wall hanging of a strange underwater scene when Briar came into the foyer. The two exchanged how-are-yous and exuberant jolly-goods just as if Hoodwink wasn't a fugitive wanted for terrorism.
Hoodwink quickly segued into the reason he'd come. "Is Cora home?"
"Cora? No, she's in Rhagnorak, training to be a singer. Didn't I tell you about her application?"
Rhagnorak. A city at least two portal hops away. You couldn't walk Outside between the cities, but you could travel to them by portal. "No." Hoodwink tried to hide his disappointment. "You never told me."
Briar slapped him on the knee. "You dirty rascal! You just can't leave my sister alone can you!" Briar seemed a little too jolly, like he was trying to hide something. Or was he just nervous that an escaped terrorist had called upon him?
"I'm going past the Gate, Briar," Hoodwink said. "I'm going Outside, I am."
Briar merely gaped at him. "Well that's... that's very nice. Good for you."
"I've met the Users."
"Really?" Briar wiped at his brow, visibly perspiring now. He was glancing at the front door a lot. "Interesting. I've never been sure if they were just some rogue organization invented by the gols as a funnel for our hate. A political tool. Your little terrorist act caught the attention of the Users, did it? Terrorism attracts terrorists, I suppose."
Hoodwink held up his hand, extending one index finger. Sparks of electricity danced from it. Briar flinched.
"What are you hiding, Briar?" Hoodwink said.
"Well!" Briar stood. "Good luck to you in your adventures on the Outside and all. Tally-ho." He turned toward the hall, but was too late, it seemed, because Cora stood transfixed behind him.
"Cora darling," Briar said. "I told you to stay in your room."
She pushed past him.
"So it really is you." Cora stood over him. "I knew Briar lied to me. He told me the maid had shooed off some beggar at our door. But then while I was lying on my bed, I heard your voice, and I thought, no, it can't be. Surely Hoodwink wouldn't come here, of all places. Surely Hoodwink wouldn't dare set foot in my brother's home. Not after what he did to me."
Cora had never forgiven him, and she never would, though she knew it wasn't his fault. Hoodwink didn't meet her eye. "I talked to her, finally, I did. She's well. Doesn't remember us, of course."
"Can't you just leave her alone, Hood?" Cora said. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
He risked meeting her gaze. Her face was full of ire, and resentment. "I came to say good-bye. I've never stopped loving you, for what it's worth."
She smiled sardonically. "Not much. Good-bye then. Now go."
Not quite the reception he'd expected. He could hurt her so easily. With all your brother's money, you couldn't save her, he wanted to say. Though you ran into his arms, begging him to take you in. But no, he wasn't here to hurt her, and doing so wouldn't lessen his own feelings of guilt.
"Our daughter was the one who planted the bomb at the Forever Gate," he said.
Cora's lips twitched, but she said nothing.
"The Users put her up to it. She's one of them, now. They wanted her to cross to the Outside. They wanted her to talk to the gols out there."
"Stop it." Cora said. "Stop it. Stop it! Get out of here!"
He barreled on. He wanted her to know of his sacrifice. It was important to him. "I wouldn't let her do it. The Users are sending me in her place. I'll probably die."
"Please," Cora said, covering her face. "Just go."
Briar hugged her, and turned her away from him. "Hoodwink..."
A harsh knock came on the front door. "City watch! Open up!"
Hoodwink shot Briar an accusing glance.
"Sorry, Hood." Briar backed away, bringing Cora with him. "I really am. They've been watching my house since your escape."
The door thudded so heavily that it shook on its hinges. "Open up now or we'll break it down!"
"You bastard." The sparks flared on Hoodwink's knuckles. But it was just a show. He wasn't fully charged, not even close. He wouldn't be able to take on the city guard, not in his condition. "You didn't say a word. How did they get to you? Yesterday you were begging to save my life."
Briar's chin quivered. "Yesterday you were collared. Innocent until proven guilty, and all that. Today you're a User fugitive. A terrorist. I had to give you up. Mayor Jeremy promised he'd have my hide if I harbored you."
"Jeremy." Hoodwink nearly spat the name. "Bad move, Briar. Very bad move. Because now I'll have your hide."
Hoodwink drew his green sword and Cora screamed. Hoodwink had wanted to scare Briar, not her, and when he saw the look of fear on his wife's face, a look that said "I don't even know who you are anymore," Hoodwink felt utter shame.
The knock came again, more frantic.
Hoodwink raced into the hall past Cora and Briar, making for the rear entrance. He heard Briar open the front door to the troops, and the clank as the gols dashed onto the travertine floor behind him.
He swept through the kitchen, toward the back door, and the scullery maids screamed at the sight of his sword.
The back door abruptly flung open and reserve troops flooded inside with swords raised.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hoodwink backtracked through the kitchen and took the grand staircase in the hall moments before the troops from the front converged on him. He climbed those stairs three at a time and came out at a lung-burning dash across the second floor. He sprinted across the ermine carpet, toward the sealed window that backed onto the rear alley. He leapt, and swung his sword to shatter the glass as he struck.
The fall wasn't a great one, and he landed tumbling in the snow below.
"Hey!" One of the sentries assigned to the back door spotted him.
Hoodwink waded through the alleyway drifts, the shouts of pursuit harrying him on.
He stumbled over the windrow that blocked the end of the alleyway, and emerged onto the main street. The going became way easier. This quarter of the city was the first to get the gol shovel treatment, so the roadways were clear, and framed by white windrows. He veered off into Luckdown district, and the path became bumpy with unshoveled snowpack.
Hoodwink nearly slipped more than once, though he had nails hammered point-first through the soles of his boots. Behind him, the shouts grew closer. He glanced over his shoulder. The guards were only paces behind.
Hoodwink took a sharp right at Down Street. Too sharp. He slid right into a foodcart.
He scrambled to his feet—
Into the arms of a guard.
"Give 'er up, krub!" the gol said, tightening his arms round his chest. Others quickly approached—
Hoodwink angled the guard between himself and the bottom of Down Street, then kicked backward. He and the guard tumbled onto the sloped snowpack, and gravity took over. The two slid down the steep hill, picking up speed by the moment. Bumps in the packed snow jolted the two constantly. The few street-goers gave the pair a wide berth, not wanting to join in that perilous slide.
The soldier tightened his grip during the slide, slowly crushing the air from Hoodwink's lungs. Hoodwink tried to pry that grip open, but it was like trying to take off one of the collars. He focused on the spark inside him instead. He wouldn't be able to generate much. He closed his eyes, and released a flare of electricity up and down his torso. The man's arms jolted away.
Handy, that.
Still sliding down, Hoodwink turned, and gave the man a good punch in the nose. Finally the road curved up to catch them, and the two slid to a halt. Hoodwink scrambled upright, kicked the gol in the belly for good measure, and raced on. Behind him, the four remaining soldiers slid to the bottom of the street and gave chase.
There was a market ahead, one that was always crowded after the snowstorms. Sure enough the throngs were packing it today. He hur
ried in among the market crowd, weaving his way past peddlers, entertainers, beggars, clientele. He sat down, inconspicuous, beside a stand of skewered dog meat, and waited. The four guards jostled their way through the market, and passed almost right in front of him, oblivious.
When they had gone, Hoodwink stood up, and walked hastily in the opposite direction.
It wasn't long before he reached Forever Street, the road that lay in the shadow of the Gate. You could circle the entire city, if you walked that street long enough. Beside it, the wall that was the Gate reached into the sky, the topmost edges lost in the clouds. The stone was gray, and irregular, pocked with smooth dimples and mounds. He passed the section where Ari had placed the bomb the day before. The area was blackened, but otherwise unharmed. One would have expected the gol to beef up their presence after an attack like that, but there actually seemed less gols along the wall today. There weren't enough of them to watch every portion, every waking moment, Hoodwink supposed, especially when the wall was, by all indications, indestructible.
He soon met up with Leader. The ancient man observed the Forever Gate from the shade of a vendor who sold maps and miniature replicas of the city.
"Your goodbyes went well?" The ancient man asked, his breath misting. He stared off to the side, in that way he had of not meeting one's eye.
"Splendid." Hoodwink picked up a replica of the city.
The vendor immediately stood up. "Touch and pay," the middle-aged woman said.
Hoodwink gingerly returned the replica.
Ari came up beside him and saved him from the woman by giving him a hug.
"How did it go?" Ari said.
Hoodwink smiled sadly. "Cora says good-bye."
"You told her everything?"
He nodded.
"I'll seek her out," Ari said. "Let her know you spoke the truth."
"She knows." Hoodwink shook his head. "No. It's better if she never sees you again."
Leader rested a palsied hand on his shoulder, and turned that penetrating gaze upon him. "Time wastes. Are you ready?"
Hoodwink shrugged. "Yes, all right."
"You've committed the address to memory?"