The Humanarium 3: Revolution

by C. W Tickner

  ‘You’ve got a reputation.’

  Damen grunted. ‘Going to be too busy with little one soon. ‘Who’ll clean their pest infestations out then?’

  Harl laughed. ‘It feels good,’ he said. ‘I cant explain it, but I feel more complete having Elo toddling around. I need less of this,’ he glanced back to the bodies, ‘and to find more free time to spend with her and Sonora.’

  ‘Sonora has been keeping busy,’ Damen said. ‘Always tying to get Yara involved in some council or union, not to mention the private lessons with Tess.’

  ‘What lessons?’ Hal asked, wondering if she had taken to painting he nails and he made the fatal error of not noticing.

  ‘Surgery,’ Damen said, ‘I thought you knew.’

  ‘She hasn’t stuck a knife in me that I know of.’

  ‘Better watch out then.’

  ‘So had you.’ Harl said and caught a glimpse of Damen grinning in the half light before the hunter ascended a ladder. ‘I mean it, Damen. Just don’t keep throwing yourself into danger,’ Harl said, grabbing the first rung on the crude rusting ladder. ‘Or Yara will be looking for another who can raise a child. And I’m already taken.’

  Damen chuckled as he threw open the hatch at the top and Harl was glad his friend had something to look forward to. Sunlight poured in, making Harl squint as he pulled himself up and out.

  He took a deep lungful of fresh air and looked around at the unfamiliar terrain. They were in the middle of a field half way up the hill that overlooked the city. It had grown around the wreckage or Orbital and was a hive of activity around a sea of metal and brick buildings.

  A man had stopped urging a train of cattle from pulling a plough through the thick black mud to stare at them in amazement.

  They must have come out on to one of the fields that covered the hill and provided food for the city.

  Small clumps of trees dotted the sloping landscape that led up to a wall of smooth white stone that ran along the ridge of the hill. It held back a vast stream of water and was broken only by three giant waterwheels that fed a trio of streams that ran down towards the city from the Aylen aqueduct and marked the boundary between Aylen and human lands. The waterwheels powered the city below. It was an ingenious idea put forward by Kane when they decided to built the city around the crashed ship.

  The farmer urged his bullocks forward again but watched them as they made a beeline for the nearest stream which had paths on either side for easy access to and from the fields.

  ‘I’ll petition for guns to be made available to the troops,’ Damen said. ‘And now that the enemy has made a move we can finally take action.’

  A deer slipped into sight from one of the clumps of trees that edged the field

  Damen brought his rifle up and aimed at the tawny creature.

  ‘Don’t’ Harl said as vibrations shivered into his feet. The deer hopped back into the thicket of trees just as an Aylen climbed the far side of the hill and popped its head over the top of the aqueduct Damen lowered the weapon.

  ‘Bloody Compassionate laws,’ he said. ‘I can’t even bag Yara a decent meal.’

  ‘Plenty of naturally dead ones in the market.’ Harl said.

  ‘None of them fresh though,’ Damen said, raising a hand in greeting to the giant Aylen as it looked down over the aqueduct at them.

  The similarities to humans always made Harl uneasy. Everything was the same but contorted or more bulbous. The eyes were sunken into the bony sockets with a curving hairless cranium that swept back in ridges like a grey tomato.

  It bobbed its head and its continued to scan their surroundings before turning away and walking along the ridge to continue its patrol. There was no trouble on the island, but the Compassionate leaders had insisted on guarding the shoreline where the human city had been established. The constant presence of an Aylen had been good for morale and diplomacy.

  Harl looked down at their little piece of the island, glad the Compassionate Aylen was keeping an eye on things.

  The three rivers that coursed downhill split when they reached the flatlands, breaking into a myriad of small streams that flowed under a vast collection of stone buildings. It had been Kane’s idea to use the large rivers as power sources and Tess had suggested splitting the river into hundreds of little streams flowing to each individual house, providing them with fresh water and a secondary power source from small waterwheels underneath.

  Between the hillside and the sea lay Orbital. The huge ark ship that had been circling the planet for over two thousand years. It had been left where it had crashed. Its prow was buried in the fertile soil, pointing into the hill just a kilometre back from the start of the slope. A huge town had sprung up around the metal husk. Two rows of colourful canopies ran parallel along the sides of the ship where merchants had built a row of market stalls that backed up against the metal hull and sold goods to the thousands who now called the city of Gorm home.

  Harl had been surprised when they first announced they would name the settlement after Gorman but the name had stuck. A few people on flyers could be seen as dots, gliding above and between the buildings.

  His eye was drawn to the sun, which was arcing down to set behind the clear glass wall that had been erected in place of the broken wall where Orbital had crashed through.

  It was designed to allow the fields to snatch the last rays of light and give a better crop yield. In some ways it gave Harl a strange comfort, like the glass barrier he had grown up behind in the tank. This was different though, the open world on all sides didn’t give him a hemmed in feeling that had driven him to want to escape the claustrophobic tanks.

  He looked up as the ground tremored and the Aylen that had passed them on patrol ambled down the hillside. It stepped carefully on fallow sections of the fields designated for the Aylen to stand on and not crush either people, crops or livestock.

  A second Aylen followed the first across the hillside carrying a huge branch on one shoulder. The branches were brought over from the Aylen forest in the centre of the island and would have fallen naturally from one the giant trees that grew there.

  The second Aylen stopped at the base of the hill and heaved the log down into a giant slice carved from the hill. It was one of three segments cut out and shored up with a thick mixture of poured crete to form a row of large bays like removed wedges of cheese where resources could be delivered by the Aylen. A second bay held rocks and a third was used for everything else. The inhabitants could help themselves to the supplies at any time to refine them or just use them as raw building materials.

  Damen stopped suddenly, making Harl judder to a halt before he slammed into his broad back.

  The hunter pointed up over one of the pits as something soared through the air, casting a dark silhouette as it rose to the Aylen’s shoulder. It was a large bird, the same size as a pair of bullocks and it beat vast wings to slow its descent onto the shoulder.

  ‘I don’t know how they get on so well with all the creatures,’ Harl said. ‘Even after a year it still amazes me.’

  ‘I do,’ Damen groaned.

  ‘It’s not her is it?’

  ‘Yep,’ Damen said, looking around like an animal seeking something to scurry under and slink out of sight.

  ‘Too late,’ Harl said as the bird hopped of the shoulder and circled down towards them.

  As it dropped, Harl could finally make out the rider perched on the tawny feathered back.

  The bird blocked the sun as its wings fought the pull of the ground. Thudding down, it dug its huge claws into the dark soil beside the path, anchoring itself so the rider could hop down from the leather saddle strapped on its back.

  ‘Heya boys,’ A young woman called, waving both hands as she leapt from the beast. She stumbled over a clump of soil and caught herself just in time.

  Harl heard Damen sigh.

  ‘Hello, Sky,’ Harl said, as she skipped to a stop in front of them and lifted a pair of brass goggles from her blue eyes. She tilted
them back to rest on her short blond hair leaving smudges of dirt on her pale forehead. Even so short, the hair was windswept into a series of rear facing spikes. They resembled the puffed up feathers on her giant bird that now picked for worms in the ploughed mud behind her.

  ‘Y’all got my message then,’ she said, hooking both fingers into the pockets of her too small tan jacket and eyeing Damen with a beaming smile. When she saw the grime and blood that caked their boots she frowned. ‘Busy?’

  Damen grunted.

  ‘Thanks,’ Harl said. ‘The news caused a bit of a stir though.’ He watched as the giant bird begun hopping about, its eyes focused on the ground as it raked the soil with its talons.

  ‘The Aylen dropped something off then?’ she asked.

  ‘Men and rat mounts,’ Damen said. ‘Nothing we couldn’t handle.’

  Sky beamed a wide, white toothed smile at him. ‘A good morning’s scouting,’ she said. ‘They’re getting bold though.’

  The bird had begun to dig a trench with its talons and already it had scooped a metre deep hole.

  Sky saw Harl staring and turned to the bird.‘Stop it, Flick,’ she said and jumped forward, distracting the bird from its burrowing. The bird cocked its head at her then back to the dirt and resumed scraping its claws through the mud in its hunt for food.

  Sky sighed and uncoiled a loop of rope attached to a wide belt around her waist that held up her leather trousers. She wove the rough rope in to a skilful loop and cast it smoothly over the birds neck drawing it tight. The bird protested, attempting to pull her over as she slipped in the mud.

  ‘Flick, no!’ she said and reigned the huge beast in until it stilled.

  She walked it over to them, like a five metre prize-milking cow. It made a series of chirps as she patted the sleek feathered neck.

  ‘I didn’t come to chat,’ she said, batting her blue eyes and smiling at Damen, ‘as much as I’d like to. The Three heads have asked me to tell y’all that they want to see you.’ She twitched the rope and the bird slunk lower to the ground. ‘Probably best after meeting them bad guys.’

  She gripped the leg sized feathers and pulled herself up into the saddle. The leather seat was laden with ropes and odd trinkets dangling down the sides of the bird. Even a bag of rounded stones was heaped behind the saddle and Harl wondered if the bird was too fast and she had to use them to slow it down.

  ‘One of y’all want a lift?’ she asked, staring at Damen who shook his head. She glanced at Harl.

  ‘We’ll take the shuttle,’ he said. ‘But thanks.’

  The bird ruffled its feathers with a shake, almost dislodging Sky before she rapped it on the neck with her knuckles.

  ‘I don’t trust that mechanical thing,’ she said, tugging the goggles down and slipping a rein around the birds neck. She snapped the leather and the bird kicked hard off the ground and flapped its wings. ‘See ya’ll around boys.’

  Damen sighed as she swept up and around them, showing off her skills, tilting the bird this way then that before gliding down the hill.

  ‘She likes you,’ Harl said. He enjoyed watching the cheeks under Damen’s beard flush red as the big man blushed.

  ‘Yara would flay her alive,’ Damen said. ‘And I’m old enough to be her-’

  ‘Older brother?’ Harl finished.

  Damen shrugged and nodded down the hill. ‘We’d better get to the shuttle soon or we’ll be hunting for the Cathedral in the dark.’

  Chapter 3

  I feel terrible knowing what will happen to Earth. I’m just one of the lucky few. I have no idea what we might discover but it must be better than watching the world die.

  The sun started to dip as they strolled down the hill. After a while they reached a road of poured crete and began to pass people finishing up their day’s work. Forges were cooling for the evening, their smoke trailing up from the dozens of workshops in the metallurgy district. The district spread in a semi circle, facing the three segments carved from the hillside. Most of the brick built workshops were busy working on Kane or Tess’ orders, pumping out sheets of metal to provide the couple with whatever inventions they were concocting in their lab deep within Orbital’s remains.

  Harl wondered if the heads expected them to make it to the Cathedral before the end of the day. The Compassionate city of Leaf was hours away by flyer and it would be nearly dawn by the time they reached the collection of huge Aylen buildings.

  They made it to Orbital’s hull and the line of market stalls topped with gaudy colours that ran along both sides of the wreck.

  Uman was underneath one of the lean-to’s, sitting on a stool and whittling away at a piece of wood. He was surrounded by bolts of cloth and thick fabric dresses.

  ‘Taken up a new career?’ Damen asked as he fingered a soft bolt.

  Uman turned pink as he jumped up from the stool. ‘Keeping an eye on things until she returns,’ he said.

  ‘Cotton?’ Harl asked inspecting a beautiful red dyed dress.

  Uman nodded enthusiastically. ‘The same as Sonora was wearing when we first met,’ he said. ‘Got a good supplier and we’ve been doing well.’

  ‘Is that why you didn’t join the sewer team?’ Damen said. ‘Too busy making trades?’

  ‘Enemies?’ Uman said, his eyes darting around as if they might be forming ranks nearby.

  Damen nodded. ‘Tough fighters too. Lost some good men.’

  ‘If I had thought it more than a drill,’ Uman said, ‘I would have left the hag to tend the stall and joined you.’

  ‘You would, would you?’ a gruff voice demanded from behind.

  They spun to find a beefy blonde-haired woman standing with her hands on generous hips and a frown that resulted in Uman turning as pale as milk. Her cheeks were ruddy red although whether it was normal or out of anger, Harl couldn’t tell.

  ‘Time to go,’ Damen murmured but Harl stood transfixed. He’d never seen Uman’s woman before.

  She stormed to the edge of the stall and swatted at Uman making him duck down.

  He sprang up as she rounded the side of the stall and in his haste to retreat he tumbled backward over the stool to sprawl on the hard crete floor.

  She loomed over him and as Uman broke into laughter she joined in and reached a hand down to pull him up.

  ‘Rose,’ she said, turning to Harl with a hand out. She glanced back at Uman. ‘Not hag.’

  ‘Harl,’ he said and clasped her hand. She squeezed hard, threatening to crack a bone but smiled as if unaware of the potential injury.

  ‘I knows who you are,’ she said. ‘Saving my man all the time.’

  ‘Um,’ Harl said, ‘I don’t know-’

  ‘Here,’ she said and scooped up a pale blue gown and held it out to him.

  ‘For Sonora,’ she said. ‘ I haven’t seen her in a while so let her know where I am if she wants to go for a walk and talk.’

  ‘I can’t possibly-’

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said, stuffing the dress into his arms and giving him a daring look as though there would be trouble if he refused again.

  ‘Er thanks,’ he said.

  ‘Well,’ Uman said, slipping past Rose to the front of the stall. ‘We’d better be going.’

  ‘Be back before dark if you want any supper this evening,’ she said and plonked herself down on the stool, leaning back against Orbital’s hull so the dipping sun lit up her face.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind If I join you,’ Uman said, glancing back at the stall as they headed down the row of shops. ‘I could do with a drink.’

  ‘We’re going to the Cathedral,’ Damen said as they turned into an entrance cut into the side of the crashed mothership.

  Uman swallowed and glanced back outside. ‘I just remembered I have to pick up some timber from the wood stock,’ he said, splitting away into a jog before they could say anything else.

  They turned into the wide open entrance and took a series of rickety metal stairs up towards the top of the ship.

 
‘She’s more brave than him,’ Damen said, taking the stairs two at a time.

  ‘But not as fast,’ Harl said. ‘Isn’t it a bit late to be flying-’

  ‘No,’ Damen said as they reached the top deck of the ship.

  It had been cut away, exposing an area open to the elements. Dozens of upper deck floors had been sliced out by the Aylen after the crash and the area was now a landing zone for flyers and a lone, white shuttle that was perched in the middle of a crudely painted red X.

  It sat squat and sleek with a curved front window taken from the old drop ship. Most of the metal was salvaged from the crash but neatly reshaped by a team of engineers headed by Kane and new panels had started to be placed over the existing plates. All of it was painted white to be more visible to Aylens while in flight.

  The engines on either side at the rear were a little above head height and mounted on swivel arms to allow them to turn without needing a large wingspan. The entire shuttle was fifteen metres long and five wide with two upward hinged doors on either side for loading. A smaller door at the front was for the captain and co-pilot.

  The sun bounced off the gleaming paint, forcing Harl to squint as Damen opened the smaller front door and took two steps up.

  ‘You don’t think Kane will be annoyed about us taking the shuttle and him not being the pilot?’ Harl asked.

  Damen chuckled. ‘We can only hope so,’ he said. ‘It’s the only way of getting there quickly.’

  ‘Have you flown it before?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Damen said, swivelling in the captains chair and flicking a power switch.

  Lights and screens jumped up from the dashboard displaying a hundred different metrics in a three dimensional show of blue light. Flat monitors lit up with touch screen commands.

  ‘Seen the weasel do it a thousand times,’ Damen said and grabbed the stick in front of him. He pressed a screen marked engine control and the engines roared into life, kicking up dust and forcing Harl to slam the door down before the instruments were coated. ‘How hard can it be?’ Damen asked.

  Harl swallowed, sunk into the second seat and clipped the strap around his waist.