“You have animals?” Professor exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yeah—cats and dogs, too. You don't?”
“Except for our horses, we only have one talking raven,” said Tagore jokingly. “John, I sent some scouts… our old habit… to survey the area and to make sure we wouldn’t stumble upon some unfriendly party. But now I’m concerned that they may cause trouble, should some of those folks misinterpret their presence or presume them intruders… they carry guns and—well, they don’t look like monks. We should somehow warn everyone that everything is okay.”
“You don't have to worry, Presley. After I met your men and after they explained who they are, I decided to come and greet you. And I’ve sent some of my people to spread the news around and let everybody know about your arrival. Your scouts are already greeted, or on the way back here.” As on cue, a large group of men arrived to their camp.
“…And you are welcome to come and be our guests. Until you decide which part of the city to occupy.”
“Well, it’s already late. We’ll sit tight until tomorrow morning. But if you want to go back to your folks before the nightfall, we can lend you one of our horses. You can ride, can’t you?”
“Certainly. That’d be great,” John said, a little disappointed that he was almost asked to leave, but then came to the same conclusion, that it was for the better if he went back to the city and informed the others about Presley and his large crowd.
“Well then, I’d better be going. Until tomorrow.” He mounted the horse and waved his goodbye.
When John left, Presley and Professor sat next to a small fire, waiting for dinner to be ready and watching the night slowly fall, each in his own thoughts.
“Imagine: cows and pigs. And chickens!” Professor interrupted the silence.
“Professor, are you sure this is not a trap?” Presley interjected.
Professor looked at him for a long moment, thinking, waging some pros and cons inside his head, trying to imagine what would be the reason for worry or suspicion. Presley was waiting.
“I don’t see why or what would be their gain. We have nothing of significant worth. We have almost nothing except the skin on our backs. And there is room for many more people in that city. I think he and all the rest of them will be glad to see our large group. More people give us all a better chance at survival. I am not saying we shouldn’t be careful, but I honestly doubt there is a shred of deceit behind that man’s act. He seemed honest, and I would think I’m a pretty good judge of character. And should it be any different, then my theory about what remained of humanity would be false.”
“That only a peaceful people are left standing… I sure hope you’re right.”
“Talk to our scouts, ask them what they saw and how they felt.”
The scouts confirmed Professors take on the situation. They detected nothing suspicious during their encounter with the residents of the city. They found them to be joyful and friendly, in fact, happy to greet them.
Nevertheless, Presley decided to leave twenty well armed and well equipped men behind, ordering them to hide and wait. He put Malcolm in charge, asking him to sit tight for three days. If by the third day, nobody came by to inform them that everything was all
right, then they would know they had to come as rescue.
“Good luck!” Malcolm said. “I hope I’ll see you soon enough.”
“Me too.” They shook hands and embraced.
Their convoy went down the slope towards the city, in a long column almost five hundred strong, mounted on horses and on wagons or on foot; in a slow pace of seasoned travelers, who knew there was always another tomorrow, that distance was conquered by endurance and patience, that rushing led to disaster. Their scouts led them to John Bradley’s part of the city and, John Bradley waited for them at the beginning of a broad avenue, accompanied by several other members of his commune, or maybe, some of his neighbours. He greeted them with a broad, warm smile and kind words of welcome, and the rest of his suite was equally pleased. John claimed them as guests of his camp, for the simple fact that he made the first contact, but gladly accepted contribution from the other city inhabitants due to the large number of newcomers. A feast was prepared in their honour, and before long, there was music and dancing, and they felt at home. Presley realized almost immediately that his precaution were unnecessary.
He sent two riders to bring their men over. When Bradley asked him why he did that, why he did not trust him, Presley apologized and said that it was just a measure of caution they practiced every time they encountered a new place and new people.
“Please, don’t take it personally. We always have some of our men in front of our main party, and a group of them always left behind, sometimes even on our flanks, until the air is clear. We covered many, many miles and countless times this precautionary measure proved to be a wise tactic.”
“Well, I don’t think it will be necessary, anymore.” Bradley said.
“Don’t you have any of your men on watch?” asked Presley, truly astonished that the opposite might be the case.
“What for?” Bradley was confident and unfazed.
“Aren't you afraid that packs of Pongos or some gangs of hostile people might take you by surprise?”
“I doubt that any of such groups still exist. In fact, we didn’t have any such encounter in months. I am sure such groups annihilated each other a long time ago.”
“Well, that is what we thought, but about a month ago we had an encounter with some three hundred Pongos east of here…”
“Pongos? I thought those beasts were all perished—expired?”
“Apparently not.” Presley described the whole affair, careful not to mention the abbuthagaleiah word.
“So, it turned out it was not that bad. It just proves my point.”
“Caution is never futile, my friend. You were simply lucky. There are still dangerous people around. Just a week ago, we had to fight a trio of villains.”
“A trio? What harm could three men do to you?”
“Well, it was three of them all right. And yet, they managed to enslave a bunch of children and teenagers, and even killed several of them.” He then told him about Zack. Bradley was silent for a while.
“They killed children?” he looked terrified.
“Yeah…Those kids were exhausted and starved; probably couldn’t keep up the pace or work hard enough, and still needed to be fed, so they were a burden. And they got rid of them by killing them execution style… Now, imagine what could have happened if we did not stumble upon them, if they came here before we did, what kind of havoc and horror they could cause to someone who feels secure and is ignorant about the dangers that are still around and real? I strongly suggest you and your people put some watchers on top of those skyscrapers, or better yet, form patrols and set a perimeter, check points; always be ready and on the watch. You can never know who may come along. I know we shall always have some of our men on alert.”
The conversation made Bradley think. The next day, Presley and several others, accompanied by John and leaders from a few other camps, mounted their horses and rode through the city in search of a place suitable to accommodate their large group. Professor and Presley picked a spot near the shore, not far from the docks of the seaport, pretending that it was the perfect spot for the fact that there were many large warehouses, where they could organize accommodations, a school, stalls for their horses and storage for their wagons and goods.
Their new friends warned them before moving in, to clean the place from all dead bodies, and that there would be many of them. Even without the warning, as soon as they left the already occupied areas, they noticed the foul smell. This made Presley think about something that nagged at him ever since their arrival. They passed through many small and medium sized towns and cities before they arrived here and he was not surprised when they met no one. But this city was huge, and yet, deserted, aside from those who arrived before them and few native kids. He asked if anyon
e talked to the children of the city and if they found out what happened to all the people.
“Dead! They all died or fled,” a bulky, red haired man, in his thirties, said. He was the leader of the first, fairly sized group that arrived from the northwest three months ago and embraced all the children.
“What do you mean, dead? How could they all die? It must have been a city of at least half a million of people here.”
“I don’t know; war, Pongos, famine, quakes, cold, plague, internal fights, all of the above. But the main reason was the plague. The kids told us that at some point everyone started dying. First they said, people started to lose their senses: walking like they had no purpose, forgetting who they were, where they were going, where they came from, forgetting to eat, relieving themselves out in the open, fighting over anything, screeching and howling, lying on the streets until they froze. Healthy people collected their bodies, piling them up and burning them, for it was impossible to bury them, but soon it was impossible to collect all the dead bodies and then the survivors started to leave.”
“When did this happen?”
“The kids cannot say exactly, but I think it started just before the eruptions and quakes and lasted throughout the period of darkness and for some time after those first months of total darkness. When it got lighter, those who were not affected decided to flee. Only gangs of mercenaries remained until they killed each other out or fled, too.”
“How did these kids even survive all of that?”
“They were in the care of some adults, who did not want to leave the city, but the last of them died some time before we arrived.”
Chapter XXI
The following days they spent arranging their accommodations and entertaining guests from other communes, who wanted to make acquaintances and wish them welcome, bringing offerings of food and being keen on learning about their odyssey. The clean–up was exhausting, many came to help, and after a week there were no more dead bodies left near their dwellings.
Professor, spared from participation in that endeavour, busied himself exploring the docks and port infrastructure, and found a long tin–boat with oars, suitable to carry a dozen rowers. One early morning, just before everyone woke up, a group of ten, rowed to the big cargo ship. The weather was fair; the ocean was calm and quiet; the water was smooth like oil, shimmering in the rising sun. After a few unsuccessful tries, and finally after obeying Jonah’s directions, they stopped colliding their oars, and their strokes caught a rhythm and they began to row in unison. The boat finally began to cut through the water, gliding in a straight line. They aimed directly towards the ship, navigated by the sure hand of Jonah Phyla, whose eyes went alive and glistened in the morning sunlight. Quiet as always, but this quietness was a reflection of pure concentration and purpose. The closer they got to the big vessel, the more their appreciation of its sheer size grew. Finally, Jonah commanded them to lift their oars and stop propelling, their tin boat hitting the hull of the ship with a metallic clunk. Gunny produced a thick rope with a triple iron hook at one end and swung it over the lowest part of the bulwark, pulling it until it gave no budge, and before anyone could draw their breath, climbed up with no visible effort, and disappeared, causing amused laughter among his comrades. After a moment his head stuck over the bulwark.
“C’mon guys! I need another pair of hands up here!” he called.
Faster than anyone could react, Jonah was pulling himself up the rope. It was not as gracious as Gunny’s climb, but even more surprising, for Jonah Phyla wasn’t known as the physical type. He deserved their cheering and clapping, and Professor looked at Presley knowingly and a little mischievously. Then the two of them lowered an aluminum ladder and hung it to the bulwark. They tied up the boat and the rest of rowers climbed on the deck.
“So, Mr. Phyla, or should I call you: Captain,” Presley said with a goodhearted smile.
“Jonah is just fine, sir,” Jonah said.
“Ok, Jonah, from now on I can be only Presley to you. Where do you say we should go first?”
“Let’s first inspect the bridge, and make our way down; all the way to the engine room.”
After an hour and a half they were back at the bridge. They inspected the entire ship. Everything seemed like it was left in good order and undisturbed ever since it was abandoned. They managed to open a few shipping containers, discovering all kinds of products and materials; half of it being products and finished equipment for everyday use, and the other half was special orders for industry and businesses. Everywhere they went they were surrounded by an eerie silence disturbed only by the echoes and clunks made by them; their boots clanking across metal floors and stairs. They found no trace of life or, for that matter, death, anywhere on the ship. All signs led to the conclusion that the ship was, for one reason, or the other, disembarked, in a strangely orderly fashion; and they could only speculate about the crew’s whereabouts or fate. But that did not really matter. What mattered was the ship was there, and if they managed to revive it, it was theirs. The question, still left unanswered was, would it sail? The entire time, Jonah was putting together a to–do list: making mental notes; not missing any detail; checking every room, box, and compartment; following the electrical cables, phone lines, opening fuse boxes; checking equipment. Even in the underbelly of the ship, where it was pitch–dark they could only see with the help of flair torches, he wanted to inspect every corner… He was a different man, a man in his element. Presley was glad that Professor was right, once more. This man knew his stuff.
“So, Jonah, what’s the verdict?” he asked. They were all sitting in a cockpit looking over a mountain of containers, towards the sea and the land, through smudged windows.
“Well: we have enough fuel to reach Europe, if we so desire, and come back. The electrical cables and wiring seem intact. But it’ll need a better inspection. We should bring petroleum lamps; these torches are not good enough… and maybe we’ll find some usable battery lamps here… I am still concerned that rats may have damaged the cables. Even though I didn’t notice any trace of them, yet, the light was bad. The engine is, as far as it goes, in seemingly good order… it’ll take time to assess everything properly. Therefore, I need to stay here… and Stanley and the rest of them. You two can go on shore and send us ten more man and the lamps… We will stay here and, with some luck, make this ship operational; ready to take us wherever we want. I have to familiarize myself with specifications and the operation manual, with navigation charts and maps, and to create a crew out of these men… We will do some clean–up and so forth. There is enough canned food here, so we won’t be hungry, and we can always come to shore for water… So, with your permission, that is what I would do.”
“Granted. Can you tell how long all of it will take?”
“To see if the ship can sail; couple of days. For everything else—ten days… maybe less… or longer.”
“Yup, if the ship is not in running order, you’ll find out very soon, I suppose.”
“Exactly… What worries me is the fact that there’s no trace of a crew. It is strange. I wonder what happened? For if the ship could sail, and judging by the lettering, if it came from China, why hadn’t they decided to go home?”
“Maybe they were not Chinese,” mused Professor. “Or they learned that there’s no China, anymore.”
“Or something is fatally wrong with the ship,” Jonah said, almost against his will, like it could cast a spell.
“Isn’t there some kind of a log that records all that goes on?” suggested Presley.
“There should be… I’ll try to find it. I only hope it’s not in Cantonese.”
“You may still find out,” Presley said after a moment of thoughtful silence. “But, even if everything is in good order, how do you start those huge engines? I do not see how the batteries could have enough juice to crank after almost two years of freeze.”
“There’s no batteries,” Jonah said.
“How then do you get ignition?”
“By compressed air. There are three huge pressurized air cylinders that should do the trick. One push of the button and—voila.”
“Hah… Well, that’s good news. But, what if there is no air in these air–tanks?”
“I highly doubt it. These are made very tight and there’s no leak. But, if there’s not enough pressure we shall have to pump them up to specifications manually.” Jonah assured.
“Good, then… Let’s go, Sunny. We are not needed here any longer. Leave our Jonah to make this work. Jonah, we’ll need a couple more pairs of hands to move that boat ashore. We shall send you back more men, along with water, lamps, and petroleum… Hope you’ll be able to make sailors out of these—dirt rats.”
“Actually, let me go with you. Whoever comes back to the ship will need to be taught how to row,” said Jonah.
“Good point,” Presley agreed.
***
Over the next couple of days Professor made excursions to the inner city and, one morning, arranged a convoy of half a dozen empty wagons and several groups of youngsters and older members of their commune. Late in the afternoon they arrived back and started unloading hundreds of books to one dry and well–aired corner of the warehouse, just a few hundred yards away from the docks.
“What is this, Professor?” asked Presley, even though he already knew the answer, expecting a litany.
“This? This is an investment to our future. And these are the remnants of the past that mustn’t be forgotten. This is centuries and millennia of wisdom that should not be lost. And this is what will help us build a new civilization, on the vestiges of an old one. This, my frien is, knowledge: mathematics, physics, astronomy, chemistry, practicums in electro engineering, electronics, chemistry, medicine, agriculture, manufacture, selective mechanics; books on biology, anthropology, geography, philosophy; and also books of literature, poetry, music, art; books on every possible topic except texts on politics and religion.”
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