The scenery had Changed to a barren scrubland by the time Tassin woke. She glanced around with a frown, then looked up at Sabre. "Something bit me."
He stopped and put her down. "I know, but the poison's gone now. You're okay."
She examined the scenery again, clearly struck by the silence. "Where are we?"
"We're nearly out of it. No sound or smell."
"Thank goodness."
Sabre tried to persuade her to eat some of the shrivelled tubers, but she shook her head and asked for water. The mosscat vanished and returned with a fish, which they had to eat raw, since the Flux-reality wood was too unreal to burn now. Tassin left most of her share and went back to sleep, which worried Sabre. Although raw fish was not terribly appetising, she also seemed listless and dazed. He rested until Flux-reality Changed to a tropical landscape of sand covered with fleshy creepers and tall palms that waved in a spectral wind.
Tassin woke again and drank more water, but would not eat. He examined her ankle, which was black and swollen around the bite. Deciding that she could not walk, he continued to carry her. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. He assumed that she was asleep, and he hoped the rest would speed her recovery. Flux-reality became more and more unsubstantial, and Purr was glad to be out of real Flux-reality, judging by his gambolling.
Tassin's leg worried Sabre. The blackened flesh was not healing, and he wondered if the damage was too severe. If so, there was a significant risk of an infection setting in, and his tube of antibiotic cream would not do much good if that happened. Even the antibiotic injections might not be able to stop it.
Late in the afternoon, he left behind the last vestige of Flux-reality and emerged into the rocky Real-reality that bounded the Death Zone. The mist swirled around him in damp streamers, and at every step he expected to emerge into the desert once more. The mosscat stopped and sat down, regarding him sadly.
"The Flux ends a few feet from here."
Sabre turned to his strange companion. "We're very grateful to you, Purr."
The mosscat shrugged. "It was an interesting adventure. Few have ever crossed the Flux. You proved able to deal with the dangers. I'm impressed."
"What will you do now?"
"I shall explore this side of the Flux, perhaps it's more pleasant than the other."
Sabre glanced around. "I hope so, for your sake. Maybe you'll find others of your kind here."
Purr chuckled. "There are no others of my kind. I'm unique, as is every creature of the Flux. I came into being within the Flux. I was moulded by its magic."
Sabre shifted his sleepy burden, and Tassin sighed, her arms tightening around his neck. "I hope I can find medicine for her on the other side of the desert."
"I hope so too. When she wakes, tell her that I wish her well, and please stay out of the Flux."
Sabre smiled. "I will. Take care, Purr."
"Fare you well, Sabre." Purr rose and ambled back the way he had come, vanishing into the mist.
Sabre walked towards the mist wall, and experienced a weird sensation akin to what he imagined it would be like to wade through syrup, then he staggered into the early morning sunlight of the Real-reality desert. He laid the Queen down and rigged the petticoat on a stick for shade before lying down to sleep.
At dusk, Sabre set out across the desert. Tassin stumbled beside him, aided by his grip on her arm. She surveyed the moonlit wasteland with dull eyes, and he told her that they were out of the Death Zone. He let her drink all the water she wished, hoping she would regain her strength. The wound weakened her despite the antibiotic injections he gave her and the cream he smeared on it. For three nights, she walked, and he hoped the exercise would get her blood flowing and help to fight the infection. At the end of the third night, she seemed exhausted, and fell asleep the moment she lay down.
That day she woke him several times as she tossed and moaned in her sleep. When he shook her from her restless slumber in the red glow of sunset, she would not even try to walk, but sat staring at the ground. She turned her head away when he attempted to persuade her to eat a shrivelled tuber. He ate a little, then slung the packs over his shoulders and picked her up. Tassin gazed at him with hopeless eyes while he walked, then laid her head against his chest and fell asleep again. Twice during the night he stopped to rest, going down on one knee and supporting her on the other to ease his arms for a while. Tassin did not wake when he put her down at dawn. He ate the last of the food and sipped a little water.
When Sabre woke at dusk, he realised that she had slipped into a coma. He dribbled water into her mouth, but there was not much left. Sabre walked all night, resting three times, and when the sun rose, he searched the horizon for signs of greenery. The water was finished, and he was starting to feel the effect of its lack, since he had given Tassin most of it. The cyber's host status light went from steady orange to blinking red, a warning of his dehydration that he did not need.
That night, he carried Tassin over his shoulder, since it made no difference to her and was easier for him. He was forced to detour twice, once for a patch of radiation and again for a mauve dot on the scanners that warned of a sand dragon. The fact that the scanners were working again hardly registered on his fatigue-dulled brain, and he reacted to its information instinctively.
Three nights later, Sabre walked like a zombie, barely aware of his surroundings. Once he wandered into a pocket of radiation, not realising until he was in the middle of it, his tired mind ignoring the cyber's warning for a while. Hoping it would not make Tassin sick, he trudged on, more alert now. When he put the girl down at dawn, her shallow breathing and deathly pallor concerned him. He scanned the horizon with burning eyes. As the light strengthened, a smudge became visible in the distance. Greenery? Clouds? Hope swelled in him, and he lay down to sleep with a lighter heart.
That night he tried to walk faster, stumbling over stones. Tassin seemed to have grown heavier, and his breath rasped through sand-caked nostrils. Dust rimed his skin and mixed with sweat to form a cement around his eyes and lips. He was forced to rest several times, as his strength began to fail, but he refused to give up. The flashing red host status light became a steady one, warning him that he was close to collapse. His bio-status was only forty per cent. When the sun rose again, it lighted the line of green ahead, and the promise of water lured him on. Knowing that Tassin hovered close to death, he pushed himself to his limit in the burning sun.
At midday he stumbled into sparse grass, where hardy shrubs struggled to grow, twisted by radiation. He rested for a while, aware of the danger of falling asleep and not waking again. Catching himself dozing off, he stood up and staggered forward, his steps dragging. The passing landscape blurred before his exhausted eyes, swimming around him. It grew greener, and the grass became lusher as the bushes turned into trees. The cyber detected water two kilometres ahead, and Sabre staggered on, knowing that if he stopped, he might not get up again.
When he reached the creek, he laid Tassin on the grass beside it and knelt to scoop up the trickle of water with shaking hands, gulping the brackish liquid. He had to force himself to stop and give some to her, and she coughed as it ran down her throat. After digging a pool to collect the seepage, Sabre washed his face and wiped the dust from Tassin's, gave her more water and sipped some himself.
As it revived him, he took stock of the scrubby, arid landscape, reminding himself that this was not Flux-reality, and would not change. On the other side of a stretch of golden grassland, a verdant jungle grew, overhung with clouds. The activity on the scanners showed that it teemed with life; a veritable larder once he was strong enough to hunt.
Late in the afternoon, the cyber's host status light stopped flashing and changed to amber, and a little of his strength returned. He walked to the edge of the jungle, where he found the herbs he needed to make a poultice for Tassin's wound. A chill invaded the air at dusk, and Sabre shared the blankets with the Queen, too tired to be bothered by her presence.
/> The next day, he rigged the petticoats over her for shade, then stripped and bathed in the meagre trickle of water, scrubbing the dirt from his clothes. He dozed for the rest of day, rousing only to drink and give Tassin more water. At dusk he changed the poultice, pleased to find the wound improved. The following day her colour was better, and he spent it recovering his strength and letting the poultice do its work, then fell asleep beside her at dusk.
Tassin crawling over him to reach the pool woke Sabre, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "You're awake."
She scooped up handfuls of water and gulped it down, too intent on slaking her thirst to pay him any attention. He watched her with a smile. "You've been unconscious for quite a while. I lost track of the number of days. We're out of the Death Zone. We made it to the other side. Purr stayed behind."
Sabre let her drink until he calculated that she had had enough, then pulled her away. "Enough now, take it easy. You'll get sick if you drink too much. Take a break, the water's not going anywhere. You can have more in a few minutes. Give your stomach a chance to get used to it again. You're still thirsty because you haven't absorbed it yet, and bloating yourself won't help."
Tassin gazed longingly at the water, then, knowing that he was right, tore her eyes from it. To distract herself, she studied him. Considering that he had carried her all the way across the desert, he showed surprisingly few ill effects. Lines of fatigue bracketed his mouth, he was a little thinner, and his lips were cracked and scabbed. He had washed, shaved, and shorn his hair again, making the white lines that ran through it almost invisible.
Realising that she was staring at him, she looked away and fingered the bandage on her leg. "What is this?"
"The bite from the rock snake caused an infection. Although the poison was left behind, you were still very sick. That dressing is making it better."
Tassin rubbed her face, surprised to find it clean. "How long did you carry me, without water?"
"Six nights and half a day."
"I did not think it was possible for a man to go that long without water, especially carrying a burden."
He smiled. "It's not. I'm a not a man."
"You look like one to me."
"Looks can be deceiving."
Tassin sighed and turned to gaze across the golden grass at the dense green wall of vegetation beyond it. She was not in the mood to argue with him now.
"So much for paradise. I would not call a jungle paradise."
"No. But perhaps there's something better beyond it."
She slumped, dejected. "I am so tired of walking. I don't think I can walk another step."
"Not right now, but you'll feel better once you're stronger and your leg's healed. There's plenty of game in the jungle. I'll soon have you fattened up and fit again."
Tassin forced a wan smile, unconvinced.
They rested by the pool until the afternoon, by which time she had slaked her thirst. Then they moved upstream into the shade of a tree, where the stream ran more strongly. Sabre built a fire and left to hunt in the forest, admonishing her to climb the tree if anything nasty came along. Since the forest was less than a kilometre away, she would be within scanner range.
Sabre returned before dark, carrying a buck and an armload of fruit. The animal's throat had been slit, and she wondered if he had used the cyber to catch it. He dumped his load, and she selected a bright orange fruit while he gathered more firewood and cleaned the buck. Her appetite returned, sparked by the succulent fruit, and they feasted on roast meat, after which she fell into a sated sleep.
Gearn gave a crow of triumph and turned to look back at the shimmering Death Zone barrier, now behind him.
"It worked!"
Murdor gazed around, scratching his head. "You sure yer didn't just turn us around?" he asked. He had watched the wizard's efforts for days now, and had developed a healthy scorn for the bungling mage.
"Of course I am sure!" Gearn retorted. "I know when my magic has worked." He turned to the panting wolf. "Find the trail, if there is one. We have to catch up."
Gearn gathered up his precious potions and packed them into the saddlebags, then they waited for the wolf to return. Murdor sat in the shade of the tent the mage had conjured for him and wished he was back in Arlin, supping ale in a taproom. The mage did his best to provide whatever Murdor wanted, but the ale he conjured was weak and tasteless. The gladiator had grown tired of the hardships of travelling across the desert, and almost regretted the deal he had made.
When the wolf returned, several hours later, his eyes were bright with excitement as he gambolled away in the direction whence he had come, pausing to look back. Murdor gathered, from his antics, that the beast had found the trail. Gearn mounted his horse and followed him. The gladiator trudged after them, part of him hoping they had only been turned around, and the trail would lead back to Arlin.
Sabre glanced across the fire at Tassin as he turned the spit upon which their supper, a wild pig, was impaled. Her bruises had faded, and although she still looked tired, her tanned skin glowed with health once more. They had camped by the stream for five days to allow her to recover her strength. He had built a rude shelter to keep off the dew, and hunted every day. Her wound had healed, speeded by the good food and the poultice he renewed each afternoon.
They had spent many hours in idle conversation, and he found her to be a pleasant companion, well-versed in many subjects. Thanks to the cyber, he was a font of information, most of which she would not understand, so he kept to topics she knew something about. She had mellowed considerably, he found, and although she still did not help much with the camp chores, she treated him more as a companion than a servant now. He lowered his gaze to the fire.
"We should move on, you know. We can't camp here forever. There may be people beyond the forest. Perhaps even civilisation. Just think, soft beds, good food, pretty clothes, servants and princes."
Tassin eyed him, clearly irritated by his teasing. "It would be nice to get back to civilisation."
"Yeah, I thought you might like that."
She glanced at the jungle and shuddered. "But I do not fancy going through that."
"Why not? You went through worse than that in the Death Zone."
Picking up a pebble, she tossed it into the stream. "Well, I suppose there is no choice, is there? We certainly cannot go back, so we have to carry on."
Sabre smiled at her martyred air, reflecting that she had endured a lot. "I hope what you're looking for is on the other side."
She shook her head. "It cannot be; we left it behind."
The next morning, they crossed the grassland and entered the jungle's humid, sullen beauty. Orchid-like plants clung to damp, lichen-covered trees, trailing streamers of sweet scented flowers. Soft ferns grew in the humus, and a host of tropical plants vied for supremacy, carpeting the jungle floor with vibrant hues. Verdure reigned supreme in a life and death struggle for light, water and soil, where the strong flourished and the weak withered. Older trees fell prey to parasitic plants, and when the giants fell they opened up opportunities for their saplings. Vines linked the jungle behemoths in an aerial web festooned with moss and hanging creepers. Brightly feathered birds flew overhead, filling the air with raucous cries and lilting, liquid songs. Fleeting glimpses of shy animals drew Sabre's eyes to the colourful foliage in which they hid, and the scanners thronged with so many life signs that the black field resembled a starry sky.
For a while the open jungle was easily traversed, but it grew denser as they moved further in, and Tassin's leg hampered her. Hanging creepers and vines clogged the way, forcing Sabre to hack a path with the sword. Their progress slowed as the foliage grew thicker, and insects attacked. Tassin swatted at the blood-sucking pests, which left itching bites. Sabre was also assaulted until he came across a bush the cyber's data banks identified as one that contained an insect-repellent chemical. Once anointed with the pungent sap, the insects left them alone.
Late in the afternoon, Sabre came acros
s a fallen forest giant whose spreading roots formed a shelter in the hollow of its former foundation. Sweat dripped from his chin and ran down his chest. Dust and bits of leaf speckled him. Tassin settled on the soft humus and listened to the jungle's din as she inhaled the fragrance of a flower she had plucked earlier. Sabre left her to hunt a pig for their supper, then collected wood and built a fire. After they had eaten, he draped the petticoats over the roots to form a rude tent, then lay down with his back to her and fell asleep.
The wolf trotted into the jungle, its nose quivering over the ground, and paused to glance back at Gearn, tongue lolling. The mage smiled and nodded at it. The trail blazed into the jungle was fresh; the wilting plants beside it were no more than two days old. The Queen had stopped to rest after crossing the desert, which did not surprise him. After they had encountered the butchered corpse of the chestnut horse, the scuffed trail left by her stumbling steps had revealed her exhaustion. When her prints had vanished into the Death Zone, he surmised that she had been at the end of her strength. Three days after they had picked up the trail on the far side, the Queen's track had vanished and the warrior mage's footprints had deepened. It amazed him that the man still had the strength to carry her.
Murdor trudged behind, stony-faced. His humour had dwindled on the journey, and, although he did not appear to be particularly tired, he was obviously bored. Gearn's hood had protected his pasty features from the sun, but Murdor's were burnt a deep brown and his shaven pate was peeling. As they followed the trail into the jungle, insects assaulted them, and Gearn cast a simple spell to repel them as Murdor swatted and growled at the irritant.
The Cyber Chronicles 02: Death Zone Page 6