4.0 - The Last Command

by Bobby Adair

  Oliver took one more look around to make sure no demons were still around. Satisfied that they weren't, he unrolled his blanket, laid it on the ground beside the log, curled up on top of it, and pulled it over his body.

  Chapter 19: Ivory

  Ivory gripped the edge of the strange metal contraption, listening to the keen of the wind and praying he wouldn't pitch into the water. The night before had been terrifying, floating in the bay, watching the bear-man circle the beach until darkness blended him into the shadows. The thin blanket in Ivory's bag had hardly kept him warm. Between the waning daylight and the lack of decent wind, Jingo hadn't wanted to sail until morning.

  Now that the sun was up, they were moving.

  The towering, flapping piece of fabric above Ivory felt like some ancient monster, ready to come loose and enfold him in a deathly embrace. His face paled as the Ancient City receded to the north.

  "With the wind gusting, we should be able to get some momentum and escape the man on shore," Jingo said. "But we'll keep to the coastline. We'll travel south for a while."

  "Okay," Ivory said, his hands shaking.

  "There's no need to be scared," Jingo said, seeing his nervousness. He pulled at the ropes and cords of the ancient device in some pattern Ivory didn't understand.

  "What if we tip over and fall into the water?" Ivory asked nervously.

  "We won't. This thing was made to stay afloat as long as you operate it correctly. See this?" Jingo pointed to the piece of fabric, which he'd pulled taut using the ropes. "The sail was meant to run on the wind. I made it myself."

  Ivory watched the bear-man on the distant banks, skulking back and forth. After a while, he faded into a distant dot and disappeared as they sailed further out. The danger of being caught had been superseded by the hazard of falling into the ocean and drowning in the bottomless water.

  A gust of wind carried them even farther.

  "What if an animal reaches out from the ocean to grab us?" Ivory asked, peering cautiously over the edge of the floating object, watching it churn through the water, thinking he'd see a pair of eyes staring back at him. All he could think about were the species Jingo had told him about.

  "Don't worry. The creatures that live in the water don't have hands. You don't have to worry about them, as long as we stay on the boat."

  "I've never been this far from the shore." Ivory chewed his lip. Although he'd swum in the River of Brighton, as some of the more rebellious youth did, he'd never strayed far enough to put his trust in the current.

  "At one time, millions of ships sailed on the ocean. Remember I told you about them?" Jingo asked.

  "Tech Magic," Ivory whispered.

  "I know you think they're Tech Magic, but they were pretty common."

  "I thought all the Ancients' contraptions decayed over time. How does this one still function?" Ivory asked with a frown.

  Jingo pointed at the compound bow, which Ivory was still clutching in his lap. "The hull is made of aluminum, like your bow. That's why it didn't rust. Of course, I had to do some work on it."

  "The hull…?"

  "The bottom of the ship. I haven't sailed this ship before now. I was waiting to take our first trip together."

  Ivory felt a swell of gratitude. "I appreciate your waiting for me. Is this what you do all day in the Ancient City? Work on ancient boats and other devices?"

  "Among other things," Jingo said. The look of pride in his eyes showed that he hadn't taken offense to Ivory's remark.

  "If I knew such wondrous things were possible, I'd never leave the Ancient City. I'd never go back to Brighton."

  Looking out over the water, Ivory couldn't focus on any one thing. The dark blue water was as awe-inspiring as the boat they were riding on. The massive, plant-fused buildings were smaller—but no less impressive—than when Ivory had looked at them from the shore. Massive towers dotted the land in various sizes, losing their imperfections, such that Ivory could imagine the Ancient City as it must've looked all those years ago to the people who had inhabited it.

  "The boat is the surprise you wanted to show me," Ivory reiterated.

  "Yes." Jingo let loose one of the ropes as a gust of wind ripped through the sail. "We were lucky that we reached it before the bear-man got to us yesterday."

  "How does it work? Can I learn?"

  "I'll show you once we clear the Ancient City."

  "Okay."

  The boat rocked and swayed as they navigated the water, cutting through the ocean as neatly as someone might walk over land. Ivory had never traveled so fast. If someone had told him he'd glide over the ocean one day, he'd never have believed it.

  And now look at me…

  Finding a burst of courage—and relaxing now that they were rid of the bear-man—Ivory let go of the edge and dangled his arm off the side of the ship, letting the cold wind ripple through the fabric of his shirt. A tingle of exhilaration drifted through his body. The Cleansings of Brighton and the teeth of the demons had never felt so far away.

  "How long have you been working on this?" Ivory asked.

  Jingo let out a laugh. "Quite some time," he said. "I haven't sailed in many years."

  "You haven't?" Ivory asked with shock.

  "Not since I was very young. But I've been reading books."

  A heavy gust of wind took the sail, drowning out the end of Jingo's sentence. Ivory waited until it subsided before speaking again.

  "We could live out here," Ivory marveled. "No demons or soldiers or bear-men to contend with ever again!"

  "The ocean is a very dangerous place," Jingo warned. "Without navigation systems to tell us where we're going, and with no access to weather forecasts, we'd be risking our lives with each trip. That's why we have to stick to the coastline."

  "I don't understand half of what you just said."

  Jingo smiled patiently. "The Ancients used to have ways to predict the weather, and to tell them where they were headed. They had devices to tell them where to go."

  "I can't imagine that." Ivory waved to the vast ocean. He thought for a moment. "There must be other people out here, perhaps doing the same thing we are, right? What if we run into them? There could be other people we've never met out here."

  "Without those systems, it'd be very risky for anyone to travel." Jingo pointed to the distant shore, where waves crashed against the banks. "The power of the ocean is beautiful, but also deadly. If you get caught in a storm, you might never make it back."

  Ivory stared at the blue ocean, feeling the urge to reach out and dip his fingers in the swells. "We could make it work. Why not try? We could be free of the townships. Free of everything!"

  "The idea is tempting," Jingo admitted.

  "I don't see ever returning to Brighton, or to Beck. We can find a place where there are no demons. Maybe we'll even find more people. Imagine what they could teach us!"

  "I suspect most of the world is the same as here," Jingo said cryptically.

  "You mean most people are demons?"

  "Yes. Most. And besides, there is still more to be done in Brighton and the other townships."

  "I don't understand," Ivory said, his hope deflating. He'd always felt that Jingo expected something from him, but he still wasn't sure what. "We already know what's back there. We have no idea what's out here."

  Ivory waved a hand at the endless swath of ocean, hoping to convince his teacher. Jingo peered out over the water, letting the sail go and reducing speed. The wind died, leaving them to float gracefully. They remained in silence for a few moments, taking in the tranquil landscape and the distant land. Ivory already knew the argument was over.

  "My father and my uncle are dead," Ivory tried, tears stinging his eyes. "Brighton seems to be getting worse and worse. And the man chasing us is a threat to both of us. We might have lost him now, but he'll find us again. He'll discover our books. He'll bring others."

  "That may be true, but there's a chance what you'll find out there is worse." Jingo waved his han
d at the ocean and distant land, a solemn expression on his face.

  Chapter 20: Beck

  Exhausted and panting, Beck leaned against a tree. His face dripped with sweat despite the cold. His knees were ready to buckle. He looked up the game trail he'd been running on. The demons were out of sight, but they were still back there, following.

  Damn beasts. Can they run forever?

  Beck knew he couldn't.

  Much earlier, Beck had tried hiding among some rocks at the base of a cliff. He'd gotten a chance to rest, but the respite had nearly cost him his life when the demons realized they'd lost their quarry and retraced their path. Beck had been so exhausted by then that he convinced himself that he'd succeeded in evading the demons and wasn't paying attention to the sounds around him.

  By the time he realized the demons had come back, his only path of escape was to scale the sheer wall of rock. The damn demons came right up after him, forcing him to climb faster than was safe. By some miracle, he made it to the top just ahead of snapping teeth. He ran into the trees.

  Beck eventually found another stream and he'd run down that for a good part of the night, but didn't lose the demons on his trail.

  He thought about climbing a tree and gave up on that idea almost immediately. A tree was a dead end.

  When he came across the game trail, he ran fast, giving up on thoughts of staying quiet. Stealth hadn't served him as well as he'd hoped. Instead, he chose to test brutish endurance versus will. Beck bet his life that he could run farther and faster than any stupid beast with an off-balance head covered in calcified tumors. He bet his joints, untainted by fungal roots, would glide smoothly over enough miles to lose the demons on his trail.

  Though that plan seemed, at first, to be on the verge of success, it also nearly killed him. In his hasty formulation and execution, he'd focused too much on the demons at his heels, forgetting that the forest was teeming with them.

  Now, hearing him noisily running up the game trail, a beast waited in ambush. Only the demon's mistimed pounce saved Beck's life. In missing Beck, the monster slammed its head into a tree so hard it dazed itself and fell to the ground. Beck took the opportunity to sprint away as the beast howled. Before long, the sound of more demons came up the trail behind him, fresh ones that hadn't been running all night already.

  Out of new ideas, Beck had no choice but to keep running—a race he feared he'd lose.

  With the sun up, Beck spotted a wash of morning light up ahead. Thinking it might be a stream or a river, hoping it might be the army's camp, Beck ran hard on reignited hope.

  When he got close, he saw that it was a road.

  Good enough!

  Roads were for people and horses. Maybe he'd find help.

  Beck burst out of the bushes and immediately stumbled among dozens of bloody corpses. He scrambled to his feet, seeing slain demons, dead horses, and the bodies of some of Blackthorn's cavalrymen around him. Looking down the road in one direction, he saw bodies lying across the muddy tracks and sprawled in the underbrush on both sides.

  In the other direction, the road ran straight for a long, long way. Down a hill and half way up the next, Beck spotted horsemen, a squadron of Blackthorn's cavalry. They were riding away.

  Beck shouted at them, running with all he had left.

  "Help! Help!"

  Chapter 21: Ivory

  Ivory and Jingo fell silent as the waves lapped gently at the boat. The wind had died down, leaving them to the gentle whims of the current.

  Gaining courage and taking comfort in his teacher's presence, Ivory leaned over the water, glancing at the side of the boat. He'd hardly had a chance to see it in the dark building in which Jingo kept it.

  The smooth metal of the boat was as beautiful as anything Ivory had seen. He surveyed the craft from end to end, marveling at the sleek composition. He got up and walked to the other side. He was surprised to find words gleaming on the hull. His brow furrowed as he considered how something could still be written there.

  "Did you write that?" he asked Jingo, beckoning to the phrase.

  "Yes." Jingo's smile was coy, almost mischievous. "I did that when I fixed it up. Can you read what it says?"

  It took a moment for Ivory to determine the meaning of the letters. When he did, he found himself more confused than ever. He repeated the words to Jingo.

  "She got the house?"

  "Yes."

  "Who's 'she'?"

  Jingo released the ropes, peering out across the ocean. "It was a reference to the family I spoke of before. It was a joke."

  "I don't understand."

  Jingo laughed. "I don't expect you to. Like I said, Ivory, every place has its problems. Even the Ancients with all their Tech Magic had plenty of things to deal with."

  Deciphering the meaning behind Jingo's subtle phrasing, Ivory asked, "Do you mean you had things to deal with?"

  "Yes." Jingo's head tilted and he took a pained expression. "I'd do anything to see my wife and child again. Regardless of the differences we had."

  "I'm sorry to bring back the memory."

  "Don't apologize." Jingo cleared his throat. "I think it's about time to tell you some things, Ivory. Things I haven't spoken about in years."

  "About what?"

  "I'm going to tell you about my family."

  Jingo's face was melancholy as he stared out into the vast expanse of ocean. Unusual white birds with black-tipped wings circled and cawed.

  Gesturing at the now tiny buildings, Jingo said, "I came to the city as a young man. Before that, I lived in a small town."

  "How small?" Ivory asked.

  "I use the word "small" only because it would be more familiar to you, so you can understand the scope of how many Ancients there were. The town I lived in had twenty-seven thousand people."

  "That's bigger than each of our townships," Ivory remarked in awe.

  "Yes. And that was considered a modest town. There were many small towns like that everywhere, and then there were the cities, such as the one in the distance."

  "Was it always called the Ancient City?" Ivory asked.

  "No. That is a name used by the people of Brighton. Ancients called it something different. It doesn't matter anymore." Jingo paused to chew his lip, and Ivory saw the memories flicker across his face. "What matters is that I came there as a young man, receiving my education, just as you are receiving yours."

  "Was your teacher as knowledgeable as you?"

  "I had many teachers. So many that I don't remember all their names and faces."

  Ivory's jaw stuck open in awe. He couldn't imagine being taught by so many people. "Is that why you're the smartest man?"

  Jingo's mouth curved into a smile. "Not all teachers are as wise as they think they are."

  "I think you're joking with me again."

  With a laugh, Jingo continued, "Each of the teachers taught a particular topic of study. Some were masters of science. Others were masters of the spoken language. Others were masters of art."

  "Art?" Ivory asked, confused. "I can't imagine someone being entirely focused on that."

  Jingo laughed again. "Survival was easier then. Systems were in place so that people could devote their energy to specific things."

  "That sounds incredible."

  "The Ancients were more worried about trivial things than survival—at least, most of them were. In hindsight, they should have been more careful."

  Looking past Jingo's cryptic message, Ivory asked, "Which of these things did you study?"

  "Liberal Arts."

  "You were an artist?" Ivory asked. He imagined Jingo painting the depictions he'd seen on the wall in the Sanctuary.

  "Not quite as you imagine. I studied different ways of thinking, the way different types of people lived, the ways we perceive things."

  "Is that why you became a teacher to us?"

  Jingo shook his head, a grin on his face. "I wasn't a teacher back then. Instead of using my Liberal Arts knowledge, I became a painter
. I painted the insides of people's houses."

  "So you did paint pictures on the walls?"

  "Yes, but my job wasn't related to my studies. The Ancients coated the walls with paint. It was both aesthetically pleasing, and a way to protect the wall. It was a tradesmen skill."

  "Did you make a lot of coin?"

  "No," Jingo said bemusedly. "The pay for painters was low. My intent was to do something greater, but it was hard to market my particular skills. Or maybe I just became too complacent."

  "Complacent?"

  "Used to things. With all the technology we had back then, many people lost their motivation. Or at least, I did. That's when I met Cecilia."

  "Cecilia," Ivory said, rolling the mysterious name off his tongue. "I don't think I've ever met anyone named that."

  "It was a common name back then," Jingo explained. "But the woman attached to it was far from common. She was beautiful in a way you might view one of the queens when Brighton used to have them."

  "It sounds like you were lucky."

  "I was. Cecilia was desired by many suitors, but in the end, she chose me."

  Ivory furrowed his brow. "You say she chose you. Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

  Jingo shook his head and laughed again. "Not back then. Things were different, Ivory. Maybe if they hadn't changed… Well, we could speculate on that all day."

  Ivory frowned, wanting to understand his teacher, but having difficulty. "Women choosing their men. It seems so strange to me. You said she bore a child?"

  "Yes. She became pregnant. We were happy, but it was a surprise to both of us."

  "You thought she was barren?" Ivory deduced.

  "No. It was the opposite," Jingo said. "We hadn't planned on conceiving any children. Cecilia's job paid very well. She worked in one of the tall buildings you see from the top of the tower."

  "Wow. I can't imagine that," Ivory said. "Did she make more coin than you?"