Ata was shocked, so that he did not translate directly, but asked the boy, with his saddest expression, what should happen to the man.
Though the boy’s answer was not pleasant, and he spoke as if all the compassion had been drained from his young soul.
���What is it? What did he say?��� Barbara asked.
Ata’s face was pale white, and bit mad, as he translated, ���He says that, ‘The man will be sent to the waves after the final sunset, and if the Divine Queen has found him worthy by morning, then the man will return, or else he will find his place forever in the sea.’ �������
Timothy butted in. ���Ask him if the Queen ever finds people worthy,��� he said to Ata.
Though the boy’s answer was a word they all had learned since arriving in that world: Hay��r, which means ���no���.
���I hate this place,��� Barbara said, quietly, as they took their long walk back to the palace that evening, just before first sunset.
���How can they live like this?��� Ata angrily whispered, when their guard was not paying so close attention to them. ���I’d fly away, but we’ve got nowhere to go on this blasted water planet.���
���There’s always the sky?��� Timothy said, pointing a finger upward, discreetly.
���Are you serious?��� Barbara replied, in her full voice, which spoiled their cover, catching the attention and the quick unsettling glare of their S��r guard. Their guard was a burly man, with a full braided beard, and one of only a few others remaining on the island who’d had a rudimentary understanding of the ���words of Earth���. So that Barbara had to think of something quick to say, which might make it appear like they weren’t conspiring, as they had been.
And so she continued her statement, with noticeable awkwardness, poorly trying to think of something that would not sound at all suspicious.
���Well, I… never thought fish could grow that big,��� she said, stumbling over her words.
Their stern-faced guard paused in the road, staring them down with his large dark rounded eyes.
���Sure, they can…��� Timothy replied, trying to cover for her. ���Some fish can be as big as boats.���
Strangely, this seemed to appease their guard, who turned, kicking up a puff of dirt behind him, as he continued leading them up the giant mountain toward the palace.
And to be safe, for the rest of the evening they marched on in silence, watching the first sunset over the horizon. It was lovely to see, and could slightly take their minds off the situation at hand. For all of them except Timothy, who could not help remembering the lingering shadow he’d seen seven days earlier, as he was being plucked from the sea by Ata: The shadow that had seemed out of place, the shadow that was its own deep and jagged darkness.
*
�� In case you were curious about this, you might like to know that by association, all of the Queen’s palace guards were also members of the S��r, and that she not only used them to guard the palace from attack, but also to do all of her bidding, and anything she might set her mind to.
���� Which would be the end of their 5th total day in that world, if you are keeping track of such a thing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Late in the Evening
A little after what would have been two in the morning, there was a muddled crashing sound that had fit itself into his dreams as Timothy’s arm was being shaken, and he awoke with squinting, tired eyes, because he had not slept well in his prison room that night.
And the same figure who’d shaken his arm, was speaking his name in a low, but hurried tone.
���Timothy, wake up. I’ve done something,��� the voice said. Timothy forcefully pushed his eyelids wider and saw that the voice belonged to Ata, who was not dressed in his night clothes, as you might suspect, and was looking rather panicked.
���What are you doing in my room?��� Timothy asked, lifting himself partly up so that he rested on his elbow.
���We have to go, now. I’ve done something,��� Ata replied, not answering Timothy’s question.
Though in his dazed state, Timothy had needed an answer, so he repeated, ���How did you get in my room?���, yawning the last few words.
���I broke the window,��� Ata snapped, like that hadn’t mattered. ���Now grab your things, we’re leaving.���
The shock of this statement meant that Timothy was now wide awake, sitting up in his bed, seeing the fragments of broken glass spilled out beneath what was once a tall and permanently sealed window, like the stained glass in a church.
���Are you insane?��� Timothy said, loudly. But as he said this, they heard shouts in the palace hallways, and the sound of guards running.
���What have you done?��� Timothy asked, as he was dressing in whatever clothes he’d had time for: a pair of sandals that strapped over the foot and partway to the knee, and a well embroidered cloak.
The shouts grew louder, and were coming more quickly down the hall.
���I saved someone’s life, alright… I flew out over the waves and saved that man’s life, from the market,��� Ata said sternly, as they heard the sound of a rustling iron key ring, and commotion at the door.
Clunk. The bolt clicked open.
And for an odd second Timothy stopped abruptly, noticing the door, though noticing also that he hadn’t been the first to think to save that man’s life. And he wondered how that had happen, for in most instances he would have been the first to suggest such a dangerous mission. However, as quickly as thoughts can come, he came to realize that he’d been awfully preoccupied with the shadow below the surface of the water, and with Barbara’s very real and eventual death, that might happen in only a matter of days, being reflected into the depths of the ocean.
And these thoughts had rattled in his consciousness, ever since they’d first arrived in that world, in the same way that you cannot truly focus on a conversation while watching the television, or like the way that you will never enjoy a party if your stomach is ill.
However, Ata’s voice broke through these thoughts, bringing him back to the moment at hand.
���Come on,��� he yelled. ���Barbara was faster than you.���
They bolted toward the window, but in mid-stride Timothy realized he’d forgotten something important.
���My armbands,��� he said, feeling the place where they should have been. And as he turned to fetch them, his bedroom prison door swung open, and four of the Queen’s police, with drawn saber swords rushed inside.
���Leave them!��� Ata shouted, though it was already too late. Without thinking, Timothy was already sprinting toward them, and he leapt with a diving roll over his bed. The blade of a sharpened saber sword came slicing through the air, it cut apart the feathery down of his pillow and padded bedcovers, narrowly missing him, and exploding a volcano of white goose feathers upward from the bed.
Timothy snatched his bands from the nightstand table, spinning around on his knees, and holding them like an ���X��� in front of his face. A thick and semi-transparent blue crystalline energy shield assembled in front of him, deflecting a sword’s blade that came only inches from his face.
Screaming, he pushed back at the guard with his force-shield, not a scream of rage, but of determination. During his year in Gleomu, Asa and some of King Corwan’s top generals had, among other things, trained him to fight with only a shield. Showing him how to use it to ram against his adversaries, so that if battle would come, he would be ready if he’d ever lost his sword. Though, there was never a way to anticipate that he’d have to trade his regular heavy metal shield, for a lighter than air, impenetrable energy force-shield, that he could wield with precision accuracy. His blows were quick and exacting, and so that even though his attackers were larger than he was, it hadn’t mattered. He hit
one guard in the leg, just below the kneecap, and deflecting a slashing saber, he struck another in the side above the hipbone, before turning to run over fragments of sharded glass, toward Ata and the broken bedroom window.
���Ready now?��� Ata said, as he threw his glowing mechanical ball high out of the window. Though before he’d given Timothy time to respond, he grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar, with one hand, and then tapped his armbands together.
Both boys were pulled like a rocket out of the window, into the night sky with its fully lit moon, away from the palace at the top of that great mountain, though not away from danger.
And in the corner of his mind, Timothy wished that he had rather been in Gleomu, the only world left of the three where he was not a fugitive.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A Place for Criminals
Branches like pine needle leaves scraped against them as they glided to the ground, within a dense pack of trees, in the heart of the communal forest.
Ata was quite positive that this was the right place, although, to his credit, the whole of the forest looked the same after nightfall. And while he was exceptionally gifted at finding his spot, while flying over the nighttime city skyline of Istanbul: here, however, there were no lights at all in the evening, no distinguishing familiar landmarks, and moreover this entire quadrant of the island was stone quiet.
They fell through the trees, landing on the spongy earth, piled high with unraked leaves.
���Are you sure this is the place?��� Timothy asked, hushly speaking in the even more silent encircled woods.
���Absolutely, almost sure,��� he replied. Then he said, scanning past the clumped tree branches, ���It’s just so hard to tell at night.���
And he whistled, a low-pitched sound, something like the call of a night bird, perhaps an owl. It was a good disguise, and only the cleverest of trackers would have discerned it (for if you were an expert tracker you would know that that was not exactly the sound that any breed of owl would make).
Though for all his effort to keep them hidden away in the forest, the reply he’d received completely destroyed his hopes of anonymity.
There was the sound that a girl makes when she clears her throat, and the words, nearly shouted, ���Is that you, Ata? We’re over here.���
And in the dark behind another nearby cluster of trees they found Barbara, along with the man from the market, sitting on a fallen log, and they were not speaking to each other, for neither spoke the other’s language. They’d been waiting, anxiously resting their chins in their hands until Ata and Timothy had returned.
���Oh good, you’re safe,��� she exclaimed, when Timothy came into view between the trees.
���Barely safe,��� Timothy replied, and then asked, ���Why, you didn’t think we would be?���
Barbara stood up from her uncomfortable log seat, and came to stand in front of her friends, which in the low lit forest was closer than you might stand during the day.
���It was hard to know what would happen,��� she said. ���We saw a signal fire in the harbor as we flew. We thought they’d capture you for sure,��� she continued with a sad expression on her face, although you couldn’t see it clearly at night.
And in the dark night forest, the man from the market spoke up for the first time, and startled them all, because he’d been so quiet that they’d nearly forgotten about him.
He spoke in his ancient language, and they looked to Ata to translate. Though he didn’t at first, but spoke back to the man in his best attempts at that language, to clarify something of what was said.
���Well… what is it? What did he say?��� Timothy asked.
Ata paused for longer than he would normally have, as if he were still trying to get his mind around the man’s words. And the light from the disk shaped moon, fell in stark shadows over their shoulders.
���He says, ‘We need to leave at once. The forest is a place for criminals, and they will find us soon enough, before the second sunrise. We cannot hide here.’ ���
Barbara spoke up, as if she were herself trying to understand, ���And where does he want us to go? We’re on an island, if you don’t remember.���
Ata turned toward Barbara.
���To the city of the sky people,��� he answered, blank faced, already knowing what to answer, yet still not believing it himself.
And for a brief moment, the forest lay still around them. Until Timothy blurted out what they had all been thinking, ���City of the sky people? Of course he does…���
Immediately, there was an unsettledness, and in the far distant forest they heard the stirring of actual night birds, as if a predator, or a rank of Queen Ilayda’s secret soldiers were advancing.
The man from the market spoke in his native language, and Ata translated, ���They are not far. We will go.��� And they followed the man, nearly running, though quietly, through the dark woods: Away from the sound of soldiers’ trampling footsteps, toward the shoreline at the opposite end of the island, and if they could find it, a boat that would bid them safe passage.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Desertion
The crime of desertion in the Empire, carries with it perhaps the most severe of penalties. Notwithstanding, citizens of the Grand Isle of Sonsuz Su may leave the main island, sailing to any of the outlying islands, while on business, and with the appropriate paperwork, and while accompanied by a certified royal escort.
But to leave the Empire island, on one’s own, past the time of the evening curfew bell, would mean certain death for the offender, if captured, and if uncaptured, for their families, and if they’ve no surviving relatives, then for a person chosen at random from their home quadrant.
And I’ve said all this, so that you will understand that this was the state for Can��, the man from the market: Who was charged with the state’s crime of bartering, and who was sentenced to death, a death by marooning at sea within a single-manned boat with no oars, nor a sail. Although, of course, he did not die at sea, but was rescued that evening by Ata, and flown back to the island after the final sunset.
Can, a middle-aged man by their standards, being three hundred and fifty-eight years old. He’d had a wife and four grown children, who were all ten to fifteen years apart in age. And it was because of this, that when they had come to a small hamlet at the far end of the island, after first sunrise the following morning, and after walking all night, keeping off the main road for fear of the Queen’s police: Can decided that he could not take the easy route for himself, to leave the island, knowing what they would do to his family, if he were labeled a deserter.
And I have explained all of this, at length, so that you will understand his response as they stood on the single, humble dock of the Bar���� township. And after they had all had very secretive, dangerous conversations that night, until they found a member of the resistance movement, who was eventually willing to escort them to the current rendezvous point, where they would find the city of the sky people. Mind you, that at first their guide refused, saying that the military ships have been on heightened patrol, as of late, and pessimistically saying that they were far more likely to be bombed at sea by the Queen’s navy, than to make it safely to the city.
But in the end it was Can, who spoke up, urging him, saying, ���But these are not just any ordinary travelers, or mere criminals, like myself. They are from the world of Friend Arthur.���
And this seemed to be enough to convince the man, as they boarded what would appear to any casual observer to be an average fishing vessel preparing for its catch, as the first sunrise slowly crested above the sea, and its light flickered across the waves.
There had been enough seats for all of them, but the man from the market stayed behind on the dock.
���Is he not coming?��� Barbara said. ���Ata, ask him why
he’s not coming?���
Ata said a few words in that dialect, and the man replied, and Ata translated, ���He says, ‘I will walk the road, until I come to my home, and will be near my family until they find me.’ ���
Then, Ata spoke to the man, words that mean roughly, ���Thank you. You have been our greatest help.���
Then the man whose boat this was, who would escort them from the island, he yelled out to Can, as he loosed his sailboat from the dock. He took the risk to say it loudly, as Can had already begun to leave, heading toward the road, and onward towards his family’s home.
And what the man had yelled was a greeting of the resistance, since its early days, as a means to honor Can, who would not likely live beyond that day��.
Barbara and Timothy sat on a bench seat in the boat, staring at Ata until he finally translated it. Ata took in a gulp of air to try to settle his emotions as he spoke what the man had said, ���May the God give you safe harbor.���
The pat of the waves came in even intervals against the hull of the boat, as they sailed all day under fair winds, and now it was the last few hours before first sunset. Earlier on, around what would have been noontime in that world, and while most of them slept uncomfortably, but soundly, on seat benches; Eldemir, the man whose boat this was, saw a speck on the distant horizon. He assumed that it might have been a military ship, or some cargo vessel. Yet it was such a great distance away, that their small, single-mast sailboat had seemed to go unnoticed, and for the rest of the day they continued on, seeing neither boat, nor bird, nor fish, only the waves, seemingly endless and blanketed across every surface of that world.
However, presently Barbara sat at the bow, which is what the front part of a ship is called. She rested her head in the crook of her arm, while at the same time, leaning over the edge of the boat a bit, to let the sea mist hit her face as the waves splashed in a constant tempo against the sides of the ship.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 34