Lost Worlds

by Andrew Lane

  His heart jumped, but he tried to calm himself down. It didn’t mean that he was at the top of the fissure. Grass seeds might have drifted down along with some soil and germinated in a small patch on a rocky ledge. But surely they would need sunlight – and moisture. It had to mean that he was at least near the top.

  He pulled with his right hand, using his left elbow and his legs to push himself up. He reached higher with his left hand, trying to locate the sides of the crack, but there was nothing there. No rock.

  With nothing to hold on to, Gecko was supporting his weight just with his legs. He kicked himself upward as hard as he could. His shoulders popped up above the level of the grassy surface, and he thrust his arms out to either side to stop himself sliding down again. He levered himself up and out, falling sideways on to the grass, and it was only then that he allowed himself to realize that he was out and free.

  The sky was pitch black above him. The sun had gone down a long time ago, and clouds covered the stars, but the wind that blew across his face was the freshest thing he had ever experienced. He lay there for a few seconds, every muscle in his body aching, and the scratches on his back and arms burning, and then he forced himself to climb to his feet.

  That was the easy part over with. He still had things to do.

  As Rhino watched, the crowd parted in several places and seven Almasti walked forward. They were older than the others, grey-haired, stooped and even more wizened, and they wore long robes that had been crudely embroidered with designs. They also had leather thongs round their necks, but the stones hanging there were red rather than turquoise, and more ornately carved than any of the blue ones that Rhino had seen earlier. They walked proudly to the semicircle of seven rocks and each stepped up on to one. For a moment they stood there, facing out to the crowd, and then they turned inwards, towards the accused.

  Somewhere behind the crowd, drums began to beat in a regular, hypnotic rhythm. A few seconds later an ear-scratching wail started up. It sounded like cats being strangled, but Rhino guessed that it was some kind of crude bagpipes being played.

  And then the trial began.

  Rhino had taken part in trials before. He had given evidence before two Crown Courts and three courts martial, and as he stood there in the cave, watching the Almasti, he recognized the form and the players. He knew exactly what was going on.

  The Almast in the centre was the accused. He stood there – alone, isolated – staring around at his accusers – his tribe. The seven elderly Almasti standing on the rocks were the judges, watching impassively as the proceedings went on. And the leader of the hunting party, the older Almast with the scar running down the side of his face – he was the prosecutor.

  The proceedings weren’t carried on in any recognizable language. Instead the prosecutor communicated with the judges and the crowd in a series of barks, yelps and snarls. It wasn’t just animal noise, however. The audience understood it. Although the judges maintained their impassivity, not reacting to the diatribe from the scarred hunter, the crowd was obviously swayed. Rhino could hear them murmuring to each other, and reacting together with sudden intakes of breath as particularly dramatic points were made.

  The scarred prosecutor waved at one of the other hunters. The Almast he had waved at walked forward. He was holding something – it looked like a crudely fashioned bag. The hunter handed it across, and the scarred prosecutor threw it dramatically on the rocky ground. Grain spilt across the rock, and the crowd gasped.

  Tara shuffled closer to him. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘The Almast with the scarred face is accusing the other one, the one from the village, of bringing danger on the Almasti. He’s saying that when the accused went out by himself to steal food from the outsiders, he attracted their attention.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Natalie asked. She was standing off to one side with her arms wrapped round herself, hugging herself for reassurance.

  ‘Body language,’ he replied. ‘I’ve travelled a lot, and I’ve learned the way that people stand, and move, and gesture, when they are saying particular things.’

  ‘What’s the mood of the crowd?’ Tara asked.

  ‘Sympathetic. Look at them. They’re half starved. Whatever the Almasti are eating, it’s not enough.’ He indicated the accused. ‘At least he did something about it. The trouble is that the ones in charge don’t seem impressed. They’ve kept the Almasti away from the rest of the world very effectively, and probably for very good reasons.’

  One of the judges raised a hand. Silence fell across the crowd. She asked a question – at least, Rhino assumed it was a question – but what worried Rhino was that she gestured at the cave where the four of them were being held while she spoke, and then gestured at the rocky bowl around them.

  ‘What’s she saying?’ Tara asked.

  ‘I’m not sure. She’s not giving away very much with her body language, but if I had to guess I would say that she is pointing out that the fact we’re here is some kind of proof that the accused Almast is guilty. People outside this place know about the Almasti now. The secret is out.’

  The scarred warrior spoke in reply. He waved his spear and shouted something.

  ‘Damn,’ Rhino said.

  ‘What?’ Tara asked.

  ‘Honestly?’ he replied. ‘Or reassuringly?’

  ‘Honestly. Always.’

  ‘I think he’s saying that there’s a simple solution to that. Just kill us.’

  Gecko headed down the mountainside, navigating more by intuition than by sight. It was almost pitch black. Fortunately, years of free-running had given him a kind of sixth sense: he could tell when there were obstructions, or when the ground dropped away abruptly, and he could avoid them. For the most part. He fell a couple of times, but his reflexes were so fast that he could tuck himself into a ball and roll for a few feet.

  As he descended, he tried to work out how he was going to navigate his way back to where the party had been captured. Nothing came to mind. He guessed he was just going to have to trust to luck – either that or be prepared for a very long walk around the base of the mountain.

  Something made a noise nearby. Gecko stopped dead in his tracks. He held his breath, hoping that whatever it was hadn’t heard his approach. He waited there, counting his heartbeats, until he estimated that a minute had gone by. Should he start moving again, or was there an Almast standing just as motionless as he was a few feet away, waiting like Gecko was for some sign of movement? The only difference being that the Almast was likely to be armed.

  Another movement, and this time he heard the sound of grass being pulled out of the ground. He made a soft click with his tongue. From out of the darkness came an answering ‘Meh-eh-eh-eh’. A goat? A sheep? Whatever it was, Gecko didn’t think he had anything to fear from it, so he kept on going.

  After a while he began to notice a reddish glow off to one side. He wondered for a while if it was the sunrise, but surely he couldn’t have been climbing the fissure for that long? A sudden change in the direction of the breeze brought a noise to his ears: a squalling sound, like cats fighting. He slowed down, not wanting to get in the middle of a fight between mountain lions, or whatever other carnivorous creatures lived on the mountain slopes, but after a moment he realized that the sound was more like music than the screech of a wild animal. Bagpipes, maybe?

  Gecko realized that he must be getting close to the Almasti village. The red light he was seeing wasn’t the sunrise – it was firelight – and the bagpipe music might mean that some kind of ceremony was going on.

  He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with his friends.

  He speeded up, and very nearly tumbled head first into a crack in the ground that suddenly appeared in front of him. It was only a sudden updraught of cold air that told him something had changed. Cautiously, he bent over and felt forward with his hands until he found the edge. There was no knowing how far across it was. If it was narrow enough, then he could jump it. If it was too
far across, then he would have to walk along the edge until it narrowed, or he could find something like a fallen tree that he could use to get across.

  He scooped up some stones from the ground and threw them out into the darkness with various amounts of force. Some of the stones hit a rocky object out in the darkness, and tumbled away. Others – the ones he threw more strongly – seemed to hit solid ground. He estimated that the gap was about five metres – too far to jump in the dark.

  He dropped a stone into the darkness and counted heartbeats. His heart beat barely twice before he heard the clatter of the stone hitting the ground. Just over five metres, then. His best bet was to climb down and then follow the crack either left or right.

  It took him less than a minute to scramble down the side of it. The ground at the bottom was flat – so flat that he couldn’t tell which way to go in order to get to the foot of the mountain slope. Randomly he chose left, and ran.

  It was the wrong direction. Within a minute he began to see the glow of firelight illuminating the walls of the defile. He thought he recognized the walls as belonging to the same defile that he and his friends had been pushed along before, but he kept telling himself that it might just be coincidence, that it might be a different one entirely.

  Until he turned a corner and found himself staring out across a rocky bowl lined with cave mouths. Thirty or forty Almasti were gathered in the centre. Seven of them were wearing robes, and one was standing, cowed, in front of them.

  Despair flooded through him as he realized he had come full circle. He was barely seven or eight metres away from the cave where Rhino, Tara and Natalie were imprisoned.

  The scarred Almast who had led the hunting party was standing in front of the seven . . . what? Seven judges? He shouted something in the Almasti language. As Gecko watched, he stepped towards the accused and reached into the creature’s shirt, which was tattered now from all the shoving and tugging that had gone on during the journey to the cave town. The accused Almast tried to resist, but the hunter grabbed his throat with one hand and used the other to search him. He pulled something out triumphantly and waved it above his head.

  ‘Oh,’ Gecko muttered to himself. ‘That’s not good.’

  It was Natalie’s mobile phone.

  The crowd of Almasti all seemed to gasp in unison. Even the judges were taken aback.

  The scarred warrior spat out a stream of barks, grunts and snarls. It was clear to Gecko that he was saying something like, Look at this! He carries the strangers’ magical devices on him! He is contaminated by their sorcery!

  ‘Dá um tempo!’ Gecko said under his breath in Brazilian Portuguese.

  His brain was racing. He could turn round and follow the defile in the other direction, towards the place where they had all been ambushed, but that would take time, and he had a terrible feeling that the trial going on out in the bowl was coming to a climax, and that climax might involve his friends being ceremonially slaughtered. He had to do something, but what?

  Gecko closed his eyes for a moment. He relaxed, as best he could, letting the moment take over. Letting his body tell him what to do, the way it always did when he was free-running.

  Before he quite knew what he was doing, he found himself walking forward. He opened his eyes in surprise, but his brain caught up with his body and he suddenly realized what to do. What he had to do.

  His sudden appearance took the Almasti by surprise. He pushed through a circle of warriors armed with spears and axes and walked straight towards the scarred warrior who was holding the mobile phone, and towards the accused. He didn’t look towards the cave where his friends were imprisoned. He had a feeling they were watching him. They were undoubtedly wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. He was beginning to wonder himself.

  Both of the Almasti – accused and accuser – were staring at him. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking from their half-human, half-ape faces.

  Before his better judgement could come into play, he reached out and took the mobile phone from the hand of the scarred hunter.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘This belongs to us.’

  The warrior’s empty hand was still upraised. His gaze was fixed on Gecko, wondering what was coming next.

  Gecko slowly turned round, trying to meet the eye of every single Almast – the warriors, the crowd, the judges and the two standing directly beside him. He wanted there to be no doubt about what he was doing, no ambiguity. He wanted them to be absolutely sure.

  When he felt as if he had milked the moment for long enough, he dropped the mobile to the rocky ground. He heard something break, but it wasn’t enough. Stepping forward, he brought the heel of his boot down on the phone. It shattered into pieces of plastic and metal.

  Gecko spread his arms out wide and turned again, so that all the Almasti could see him. ‘We do not mean to pollute your tribe with our magic,’ he said loudly. He knew they wouldn’t understand his words, but he hoped that they understood his body language, or maybe his tone of voice. ‘We are here by accident. We mean you no harm.’

  Silence. Every eye in the rocky arena was on him.

  Natalie watched, incredulous, from the cave as Gecko spoke. She’d been momentarily shocked by the destruction of her phone, but she thought she could see what Gecko was doing.

  As she watched, the Brazilian boy gestured to the rows of cave dwellings that surrounded them, and then raised his right hand to his mouth and mimed sewing his lips shut. ‘I will be silent about what I have seen!’ he shouted. He turned towards the cave and gestured to the Almasti guards. Nothing happened for a few moments. He gestured again, and stared around at the circle of judges. One of them nodded, and suddenly the boulder was being dragged away from the mouth of the cave.

  ‘What is he doing?’ Rhino breathed. ‘He was supposed to be going for help!’

  ‘Whatever he’s doing,’ Tara said, ‘it’s having an effect. Go with it.’

  The guards pulled Rhino, Tara and Natalie out of the cave and pushed them towards where Gecko was standing. As they got close, they could see that he was covered in cuts and scrapes, and his clothes were ripped.

  ‘Hi,’ Natalie said, smiling uncertainly. ‘Something you want to tell us?’

  ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Got turned round somewhere back there.’ He looked at the judges and the scarred hunter, and then gazed at his friends. He raised a hand to his mouth and tapped his lips. ‘Your turn,’ he said.

  After a moment, Rhino nodded. He stepped forward, gestured around – a little theatrically, Natalie thought – and also mimed sewing his lips shut. ‘I will be silent about what I have seen!’ he said loudly.

  Tara did the same. Her voice shook, but maybe that was good. Maybe the Almasti needed to see a little bit of emotion.

  When it came to her turn, Natalie called upon all the resources she had developed in the school debating society.

  She waved both her arms, encompassing the entire crowd and the town as well. ‘I will be silent about what I have seen!’ she called, her voice echoing across the bowl.

  The echoes died away into silence. Nobody spoke, nobody moved.

  It wasn’t enough. Natalie thought that the message had got through, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe the Almasti just didn’t believe them.

  Now it was Tara who stepped forward. She waited until everyone was looking at her, and then she bent down and scooped up a handful of grain that had spilt from the bag stolen by the accused. She held the handful up for everyone to see. Natalie didn’t have a clue what she was doing.

  Tara walked slowly across to the accused Almast. She reached up with her other hand and touched the turquoise stone that hung round his neck on the leather thong. She pulled it gently. The Almast stared at her. She pulled it again, still gently, and gazed into his eyes.

  The Almast nodded, as if suddenly understanding what she was getting at. It reached up, pulled the thong off and held the turquoise stone out to her.

  Slowly, Tara took the
stone with one hand. With the other she held out the handful of grain.

  The Almast tilted its head to one side questioningly, and then reached out its own hand, open and flat.

  Tara tilted her hand and poured the grain into its palm in a golden stream.

  Natalie could hear the crowd talking in excited tones. The seven judges were looking at each other, confused, uncertain what to do.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Natalie hissed.

  ‘I think,’ Rhino said quietly, ‘that we’ve just told the Almasti two things – firstly that we can be trusted to keep quiet, and secondly that they can trade their carved stones for grain from the village. They don’t even have to meet the villagers face to face to do it – I’m sure we can arrange some system where they can leave the stones in a safe place, and the villagers can do the same with the grain.’

  ‘Will it save the Almasti?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘In the long term, probably not. I think they’re doomed to extinction. That’s evolution for you. But in the short term at least their babies can be fed.’

  ‘Will it save us?’

  He smiled. ‘You know, I think it just might.’

  Gecko glanced at the accused Almast. He was standing staring at Tara with his head tilted to one side.

  Rhino looked around at the judges. They were conferring among themselves. Finally, one of them waved at the guards and said something. The guards stayed where they were, but they lowered their weapons. Suddenly, a lot of tension seemed to drain from the scene.

  ‘I get the impression he’s going to be all right. He may even find himself a local hero.’

  ‘The question now,’ Gecko said, walking over to them, ‘is how we’re going to get those DNA samples that Calum wants. Somehow, I don’t think I can convey that message to the Almasti.’

  ‘We don’t need to.’ Tara had joined them as well. She held up the turquoise stone that the accused Almast had given her. Caught between the stone and the leather thong were five coarse black hairs. ‘We have the samples we need right here,’ she said, ‘and all it cost us was some grain.’