by Joan Lennon
Cam disengaged the brakes and the little plane trundled bravely forward. Sand shrapnelled sporadically against the windscreen and it set the bristled wipers going.
‘Willy-willies!’ cried Madlen suddenly ‘That’s what they’re called…’
Cam grinned, but didn’t take its eyes off the runway ahead.
‘Come on, my beauty!’ it called to the plane as it gathered momentum. ‘Hutt! Hutt!’
The runway sped under their wheels. The edge of the cliff galloped towards them. The wing tips juddered excitedly. Cam held on till the last second and, just as they fell off the cliff face, it pulled back on the stick.
They all screamed as the G-force bit in earnest. For an instant the desert lay, spread out before them, immediately below the front windscreen. Then, with a swoop and a whoop, they were out of the fall and beginning to climb.
In a long curve, Cam brought the plane back over the airstrip again.
‘I need to ride the thermals,’ it shouted in explanation. ‘We need height.’
Below them, a lower layer of wind had arrived and they watched in fascinated horror as, one by one, the hangar roofs began peeling off. It was uncanny, seeing them ripped away without hearing the scream of metal. For a second, the stored planes were visible, laid out in rows beneath them, and then it was as if a huge finger had reached down into each building and started to stir, round and round, faster and faster, as wings splintered and bits spewed up into the air.
It was a mesmerizing display of destruction, with all the reality of cinema. Then –
CRACK!
A stray piece of cockpit grazed the body of their plane.
‘More height!’
Nobody argued.
‘I can see all the way to those mountains now!’ yelled Madlen.
‘Where?’ Bryn shoved her head aside and peered forward. ‘Lemme see. I don’t see any mountains!’
‘Wait till we come round again… look – there!’
A great smudge stretched across the horizon. It was peculiarly blurry and hard to focus on, as if fog or clouds were getting in the way.
They stared, puzzled.
‘That’s not mountains.’ Cam’s voice was high-pitched. ‘That’s the sandstorm.’
‘That’s… sand?!’ bleated Bryn.
‘A wall of sand. Over a kilometre in height. Moving at more than eighty kph. I told you,’ yelled Cam.
‘You told us,’ murmured Madlen, appalled. ‘But telling isn’t the half of it!’
The plane began to bucket sharply, irregularly, so that the three kept banging their heads on the roof. The sun was obscured by infinitesimally fine dust which smeared its light and at the same time made it seem to loom, impossibly large, impossibly close. The greenish cast of earlier was replaced now by a kind of acid white, like overexposed film. With the colours of their clothes and skin leached out like that, they looked like a crew of ghosts.
‘That’s the best we’re going to get,’ Cam yelled.
‘What?’
‘The thermals. All used up. It’s the straight climb for us now.’
And as the plane came round one last time, Cam leaned it away from the plateau and out towards the open desert.
The leading edge of the haboob stretched right across the horizon, as far as the eye could see. And it was growing, higher and higher…
‘How far away would you say that is?’ Bryn called from behind the seats. ‘I mean, just how big is it?’
Cam shrugged.
‘Hard to say. If I knew how far away it was, I could take a guess at how high it reached – and the other way round, of course. Basic trig –’
‘Never mind that – how long before it gets here?!’ interrupted Madlen.
‘Long enough!’ Cam yelled reassuringly and gave the others a thumbs-up of encouragement.
It’s up to you now, beautiful, it thought to the plane. It could feel itself reaching out, to the wings, to the engine, to the prop, willing them to be strong and fleet. You can do it…
‘Can’t you go up any steeper?’ Bryn yelled.
‘No – too steep a climb makes her stall.’
The haboob raced to meet them. They could see it more clearly by the second, how its leading edge bulged and tumbled, the dust the colour of rusty blood. Incongruously, the sky above the storm was still bright blue. That was the sky they were aiming for, but it wasn’t getting any closer.
It was as if they were sinking and not rising at all.
Cam had the stick as far back as it would go, the throttle wide open, and every muscle in its body rigid with concentration.
‘Cam?’ quavered Madlen. ‘Cam?’
For a long moment it didn’t speak – then, she could see its confidence drain away.
‘No,’ it said. ‘We’re not going to make it. We’re too slow, and too weak, and too heavy…’
Suddenly it slammed its fist into the dashboard so hard it left a dent.
‘I won’t do it!’ it yelled. ‘I won’t kill you for them!’
The others stared at it, frightened and confused.
‘Throw the fruit out – there’s a hatch on the floor – throw it all out!’
‘But –’ Bryn tried to protest.
‘DO IT!!’ Cam screamed.
They sped across the desert, a rain of Corym in their wake. The plane lifted as it lightened, reaching for height like a climbing plant reaches for the sun. But all the while the wall of darkness rolled closer and closer, eating the sky as it came.
‘That’s it, Cam! We’ve done it – we’ve done our best!’
But the same thought screamed in each mind.
Was it enough?
56
Elsewhere
In another place, Mrs Macmahonney was staring at her blender.
‘Kate…?’ Her voice was hesitant, but it brought Kate to her side in an instant.
‘What is it?’
Mrs Mac didn’t answer. The liquid in the blender was turning colour. It was darkening and the blades were picking up speed. The sound they produced was becoming shriller and harsher. Mrs Macmahonney began pressing buttons urgently, and dragged on the lever, and then leaned over and wrenched the plug out of the wall.
No effect. If anything, the noise got worse, more frenzied, and the blades screamed.
Then it blew up.
Mrs Macmahonney and Kate were thrown backwards on to the floor. A black-red liquid, like old blood, spattered over the wall, and one of the blades imbedded itself in the table leg, inches from Kate’s head.
‘GET THEM BACK!!’ yelled Mrs Macmahonney. ‘NOW!!’
57
The Desert
A young man paused to stretch his back from the digging. His name was Ebb. He had lived in the desert all his life, and though this storm had been well worse than any he’d experienced before, it was still one of many, and the routine of the aftermath remained the same. He and Nari, his wife, had already repitched the tent and brought their belongings back to it from the shelter of the caves. The animals were still tethered there, to keep them out of the way for a time, but they were thirsty. He needed to get the wellhead dug clear of sand soon, so that he could water them. It would be good to get some of the grit off his own skin too, he was thinking – when he saw the plane.
Ebb was amazed. Whoever’d fly through a storm like that must be mad! he thought.
The plane was coming in to land on a stretch of flat ground a little to the south. Ebb watched intently. The line-up was only a little shaky. Just before the wheels touched down, the pilot pulled the nose up. It had the makings of a decent landing – until, at the very last moment, the wind threw a vicious cross-gust. It caught the plane’s under-belly and flipped it effortlessly on to its back.
Ebb gasped. Shouting for Nari, he threw down his shovel and began to run. Then, ‘Thank goodness!’ he panted.
A figure was crawling out of the stricken plane, and another, and a third…
Madlen got to her feet. She was out of the plane and
firmly on the ground, but the sky still whirled and her stomach was in revolt. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply, calmingly. It only made things worse.
Then people began to arrive out of nowhere. It made no sense for there to be people here at all, and when they started to talk to her, she found she couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying.
‘They want to know if we’re injured.’ That was Cam’s voice, nice and familiar, though it sounded odd. There was a thin line of blood running down its forehead. ‘Are you injured?’
‘Er, no, no,’ said Madlen. ‘I don’t think so. Bruises and stuff but, no…’
She turned away and was sick on the sand.
‘I think I’d like to lie down for a bit,’ she said when she’d finished.
‘I’m Nari. I’ll take you,’ said one of the people, speaking slowly and carefully. She was a small woman, pretty and dark. Madlen felt too tall, too big all over, but when she stumbled, Nari had no difficulty in holding her up.
‘You’re very strong for such a little person,’ mumbled Madlen. Her brain was so shaken up, she just said whatever lay on the top.
But Nari didn’t seem offended.
‘Thank you!’ she said with a beautiful smile.
Madlen concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
Finally they reached a low tent and Madlen crawled in, deeply thankful to be out of the remains of the wind and off her feet. Nari settled her at once on a pile of rugs to one side and brought her a cup to drink from. Sleep was fast taking her over when Madlen suddenly struggled on to one elbow and plucked at Nari’s sleeve.
‘The others are OK,’ she muttered. ‘Right?’
Nari patted her as if she were a child and said, ‘Now you’re not to worry. They are unhurt, the other high-castes. Now you rest.’
Madlen lay back, sleep blurring everything around her. That’s good, she thought, the others are OK. The other… high-castes…
She frowned, and slept.
Bryn was bruised and confused and deliriously happy. He partly understood how great the loss of the Corym was; he partly couldn’t believe their luck at still being alive; but mostly he was filled with the joy of flying.
It had been so… not like anything else. Maybe the danger they’d been in had added some essential spice, but he didn’t think it was just that. He wanted to do it again, not in the storage compartment next time. He wanted to be doing it himself, with him as the pilot. It had been…
Bryn sat on the sand and cradled his bandaged hand, trying not to grin, while Cam talked to the stranger.
*
Cam was not seriously injured. There was no overwhelmingly strong physical pain it could use to wrap round the horrible coldness inside.
‘There is a communication centre a few hours from here.’ The man – Ebb – was speaking. ‘It’s too late today, but tomorrow I will take you there. Meanwhile, I hope you will come to my tent and rest?’
Cam nodded mechanically.
‘And the plane?’ the man asked. ‘What would you like me to do with it?’ He meant, Do you want me to cover it? Should I try to turn it over? but Cam said, ‘Keep it,’ in a dead voice.
‘Keep –’ sputtered Ebb, astonished, but the high-caste emergent was already turning away.
After he had handed the strangers over to Nari in their tent, Ebb stood outside for a minute, thinking. He wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to be high-caste, to live on the cliffs, to have dreams, to have wings – to have wings even to give away! He smiled. He knew better – those kinds of things weren’t for the likes of him.
Then his youngest, Tem, walking now for less than a week, fell over on to its nose and howled. Ebb laughed to himself and scooped it up. The child snuggled in.
Well, he thought, I might not have wings, but I do have a wellhead to dig out. He set the toddler back on its feet and went to do just that.
A little time later, Nari came out of their tent, collected Tem and left to see to the animals. Over her shoulder, the child saw a figure appearing suddenly as if from nowhere. It looked around, and then hid behind a rock. Tem thought about this for a moment. Then it forgot.
After a while, the figure reappeared and crept towards the tent. It was cloaked and held something in its hand that might or might not have been a weapon. There was something disturbing about the way it seemed to blur in and out of focus. Something sinister…
The figure ducked in under the flap of the tent.
It was hours later, and too dark to work any more, when Ebb crawled under the tent flap at last. He’d cleared the wellhead, and the beasts had been seen to, and that was all this day could ask of anyone.
‘Our guests?’ he said softly to Nari, as he started to strip off his shirt. She’d lit just the one light, and it was pleasantly quiet and dim indoors.
‘Gone,’ she said.
‘What?!’ His voice was muffled in his shirt, but he managed to fight his way out of the folds. ‘They’re what?’
Nari shrugged.
‘I don’t know how. I’m not even sure when. I just know they were here and, when I came back a while ago, they had left.’
He could tell she was angry. He reached across and took her hands in his. She tried to pull away but he held on.
‘Well?’ he said gently.
She stopped fighting and looked at him, hurt.
‘They didn’t say thank you,’ she said. ‘They didn’t say goodbye and they didn’t say thank you. Tem has better manners and it’s barely one.’
Ebb pulled her over to sit beside him and she leaned into his shoulder. He put an arm round her.
‘It seems rude, I don’t argue,’ he said. ‘But I’m wondering –’ she started to pull away again but he tightened his hold – ‘just wondering, though, whether they might have reasons. Two of them – did you notice? – weren’t even Dalrodian. And if they come from a different place, maybe they have different manners.’
She shook her head vigorously.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Saying thank you is manners for everybody.’
‘Well, you’re right, of course,’ he said, and so she felt obliged to take the other side, as he knew she would.
‘Maybe they had to leave in such a hurry, they just didn’t have time…’ she began.
‘There’s always time for good manners,’ Ebb said pompously.
Nari punched him on the arm, none too gently.
‘I wouldn’t have thought they were any of them fit to go far,’ she said. Then, with a sigh she got up. ‘Well, wherever they are, they’re nothing to us, and I’ve food to serve. Get washed now, you sonk, and come and eat.’
Ebb grinned and went to wash.
He didn’t hear her when she said, very quietly, as she reached for a plate, ‘I hope they’re all right.’
58
Returns
‘What’s wrong with them?!’ Kate shrieked. ‘What’s happened!?!’
Ben leaned against the wall of the kitchen, looking like pale death. The three children lay in a heap about his feet.
‘Still breathing,’ he panted. ‘Not harmed, Kate, I swear. It wasn’t something you’d have wanted them doing conscious…’
Mrs Macmahonney was on her knees, checking pulses and pulling back eyelids anxiously.
‘Leave off!’ yelled Bryn, curling instinctively around his bandaged hand. The others also began to stir and complain.
Kate threw herself into Ben’s arms, nearly knocking him over, wailing incoherent thanks.
A peculiar expression came over his face, but then he shook his head reluctantly.
‘No time. Get them upstairs.’
The moment she pulled away from him, he slid to the floor and shut his eyes.
‘I’ll catch you up,’ he murmured, as Kate and Mrs Mac dragged the three on to their feet and pushed them out of the door.
Outside the kitchen everything had changed. They were in a corridor when they should have been on a stair and there was no clue wh
ich way they should be heading.
‘Come on,’ said Mrs Mac, frantically peering back and forth. ‘Come on, come on.’
Cam was swaying slightly.
‘Wait, this is all wrong!’ it said. ‘We have to go back. I have to go back!’ When the adults just looked at it, shaking their heads, its voice grew shriller. ‘Don’t you understand, you made a mistake – you’ve pulled us out too soon – the Quest isn’t complete!’
Cam threw the other two agonized looks, but there was nothing they could do.
‘They’ll have to let us go back,’ Madlen hissed.
Bryn gripped Cam’s shoulder.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘The second this crisis thing is over, we’re straight back to Dalrodia and this lot can go and…’
Mrs Macmahonney coughed sharply and Bryn subsided.
‘Just what’s going on?!’ Madlen turned on her.
‘We pulled you out.’
‘I’d gathered that,’ she said rudely. ‘Why?’
‘Too dangerous,’ said Mrs Mac.
‘But – the storm was over!’ said Cam.
‘Not there,’ said Kate. ‘Here. It’s getting too dangerous here. So what do we do? Oh, right, we bring you back.’ She laughed and then choked it down, as if afraid of losing control.
‘Gotcha!’ cried Mrs Mac, lunging at the wall opposite. It parted before her like the Red Sea, becoming another corridor. She bustled them along it.
‘This way!’ called Lady Mary from the far end. ‘I’m holding the door for you.’
‘Bless you, lass!’ Mrs Macmahonney sounded surprisingly grateful.
The Questors exchanged worried glances as they followed after her.
Almost before they were through it, the door slammed to, clipping Madlen’s heels. Lady Mary didn’t apologize. She didn’t even seem to notice. All around them, the chamber was in a complete state. The acrid smell of too much energy discharge caught at their throats. Whoever’d set up the chairs wouldn’t be using them again, since nothing much remained of the furniture but oddly sinister-looking heaps of melted material. Mrs Mac tutted at the sight and flicked her wrist, but nobody really noticed the way she made them disappear.