*
They walked on the path for a few more minutes until they came to a signpost. Its original paint had long since peeled off, and it lay at an odd angle in the dusty road, as if someone had crashed in to it at high speed. It had four white hands joined to the pole, each pointing in a different direction and each inscribed with the name of a destination.
The words, in order of direction, were as follows: “NORTH – LINNIDEN MINES; EAST – SOLAS INFERNUS BADLANDS; SOUTH – DU-D-N L-K-; WEST – WAREVEN”. Barsch tried to make out the south facing hand’s destination, but years of weathering had left it illegible.
“Kingston?” asked Barsch, unsure of their path.
Kingston stared long and hard at the signpost, turning his head this way and that. The paths leading to the north and south were lined with stones and he could see lanterns placed on pillars in the distance. By comparison, the path to the west was unmarked, and he could see that it went through the roughest part of the plateau, heading straight for treacherous canyon country.
“If I was on my own, and had the freedom to choose, I would head north, towards the mines. There, we might hope to find a mining station or a method of transportation to take you back home,” he quieted Barsch’s indignant outcry and continued, “I’ve made up my mind. I alone will be the one to complete the task that was given to us. It’s not right, sending children to such a dangerous place, just because a bunch of foolish adults messed up the planet. As soon as I can, I’m sending you and Alza back to the Station.”
“It is foolish of you to think you can order me to return, and expect me to comply.”
The words had not come from Barsch, as Kingston had initially thought. Rather, they belonged to a newly awoken Alza, who seemed to have fully recovered from her earlier ordeal. At her insistence, Maloch gently let her down. She stood there, arms crossed and wearing a petulant look on her face.
“Alza! How are you feeling? asked Barsch in what he hoped was a friendly, albeit non-intrusive manner.
Taking no notice of his considerate greeting, she turned to the signpost and said, in a firm tone that expected compliance, “The Things from the oasis said to head west, so we head west.”
For a moment, Kingston thought about arguing, but he was forced to admit that he had decided to go that way from the start, whatever happened. “Fine, we’ll go west, though I doubt our path will be easy.”
Following Alza’s lead, they headed into the heart of the plateau. As they walked, Kingston fell back and took up a position alongside Maloch, who was scanning the landscape for potential hostiles. Meanwhile, a cautious Barsch slowly sidled up to Alza, who appeared to take no notice. They spent a few minutes travelling in silence, Alza keeping her thoughts to herself while Barsch thought of what he could say to get her to open up to him. As he walked he practiced the conversation in his head, so that he would not make a mistake.
“Oh, hey Alza! Didn’t see you there. Me? I was just admiring the scenery. Oh really, you were doing the same? What a coincidence! What’s that, you want to talk about yourself? Sure I’ll listen. Yeah, it has been a pretty crazy journey so far... Yeah, sometimes I feel like just giving up and going home, but then I think about all the things I would miss out on, and I get the strength to carry on. Thanks! I’m glad that you feel the same way. Yeah, it is getting dark... you’re cold? Well... If it’s okay with you, I could lend you my coat? Sure! It was nice talking to you too...”
“Do you need something from me, boy?” The voice was ice cold and cut through the silence like a blade through soft flesh.
Barsch realised that he had been walking ever closer towards Alza, with a hapless smile across his face. His fingers brushed against her hand, and he jumped back in surprise. Immediately, all of his careful planning escaped from his mind, and he lamely stuttered, “Um.... well... you see... I was wondering if... I was thinking that maybe you wanted to talk about something,” he finally managed. In the safety of his own thoughts he cursed himself for his verbal ineptitude.
Alza stopped in her tracks, searching for any traces of insincerity in his face. Apparently finding none, she said, “For what reason do you wish to converse with me?”
“Well, at least she replied... though I guess things could have started better.”
Trying hard not to stutter, he tentatively said, “Um... I guess I just wanted to find out more about you... I mean, we’ve been travelling together for a while now, and we hardly know each other...”
“That is your only reason? What does it matter if you know about me or not? Once I have what I want, I will go my own way, and you will not follow.”
“I don’t believe you! I know that you act aloof and uninterested, but deep down you care about us!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he had gone too far. He had been expecting to see anger or irritation cloud her delicate features, but what she did was much worse. In an unbelievably cold voice which should have surrounded her in a flurry of hail, she said, “If that is all you have to say, then we are done here. Please do not disturb me any further.”
Knowing that he could say no more, Barsch silently slinked back to join Kingston and Maloch. The old man was watching him with a concerned look, and he called out to Barsch as he came closer, “I don’t know why you even bother trying to talk to that woman, she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
“You’re wrong about her. I know that you can’t see it, but I can. I think that something must have happened to her to make her like this.”
“Go ahead and blame her actions on someone else if you want to, but at the end of the day, she’ll be only watching out for one person: herself.”
Barsch looked at Kingston and sighed, knowing that what the old man was partially right. However, he truly believed that Alza could change, that she could become a normal girl, who would laugh at his lame jokes and cheer him up when he faltered.
“But... is that what I really want? If Alza started acting like a normal teenager, wouldn’t she cease to be the Alza that I know?”
Barsch was about to tell Kingston that he was wrong when he noticed that the object of their discussion had come to a stop. As Barsch hesitantly walked towards her, he saw the reason for her sudden immobility. A deep chasm, at least twenty feet across, stood in their way. Far below, Barsch could hear the gentle flow of water, but the darkness of the canyon obscured his view of the river. The canyon seemed to originate from the north, with the water cutting a southward path through the soft rock. It would take them more hours than they had to circle round, and he very much doubted they could jump across.
However, hope lay a little way away, in the shape of a rickety wooden bridge. It had evidently seen better years, as one of the ropes that served as a handrail had come apart, and several planks were rotting or, in some places, completely missing. Still, it was better than nothing, and they had little choice in the matter. Once they reached the bridge, Barsch’s confidence dropped down another couple of notches. Turning to Kingston, he said, “Um... not to be a Nervous Nellie but... we haven’t really had a lot of luck with heights lately...”
Kingston nodded, eyeing the unstable bridge with a wary eye. “Maloch, can you do a structural analysis?”
The re-mech nodded its massive head and knelt down, its golden eyes turning a light shade of blue. It swung its head back and forth, scanning every part of the crumbling bridge. After a few minutes, its eyes regained their golden sheen and it gave its report.
“Structural analysis complete. Results are as follows: Number of planks structurally compromised: thirteen; Number of missing planks: nine; Bridge anchors remaining: two of a possible four. Left handrail decayed beyond recovery. Overall structural integrity: twenty-nine percent. Likelihood of crossing causing catastrophic structural failure... one in four.”
Barsch. Alza. Kingston. Maloch. One in four. According to probability, three would make it across unharmed, while the fourth… wouldn’t.
While Barsch was calculating
this very simple yet very serious mathematical problem, Kingston spoke. “Well... I mean... it’s not like this is the first time we’ve looked death square in the face and survived. Come to think of it, It’s not even the first time this day!” Kingston could see that his obvious attempt at bravado wasn’t having the desired effect. “What I mean is, we’ll be okay,” he added, in a soft voice.
Without waiting for anyone to say anything, he began to cross the death-trap. Ignoring Barsch’s attempts to bring him back, he merely shouted out, “Don’t worry m’boy! If it breaks under my weight, you can search for another crossing!”
With a dexterity that most would not ascribe to a man of his age, he nimbly made his way across. That’s not to say that there weren’t moments when a plank would suddenly drop out from underneath him, but he was just quick enough to jump backwards when that happened. After what seemed like an eternity -to Barsch at least- he made it to the opposite end. He stood there, a relieved grin plastered across his sweat-soaked face.
“See! If an old man like me can do it, anyone can!” he said, after he finally caught his breath.
Alza was the next to attempt the treacherous crossing, and she did even better than Kingston. Her lithe frame seemed to dance across the bridge, and her feet were never in one place for long. Even when three planks had crumbled under her feet, she simply grabbed the remaining handrail with both hands and swung herself upwards, her mid-air pirouette seemed at first to be just for show, but then the momentum carried her forward, and she was deposited on the far bank.
If Barsch had not been distracted by his thoughts -“One in four”- he would most likely have applauded.
Finally, it was Barsch’s turn to cross. At first, it seemed to be going well, but with every step he took, the groaning of the tortured planks grew louder. Kingston and Alza’s passage had loosed even more planks, and disturbed those that remained.
“I guess I can take comfort in the fact that they made it across safely.”
The crossing was taking longer than he had anticipated. Every step had to be measured and weighed before he moved. It took an age to feel every plank with his foot before he trusted it enough to bear his weight. All the while the creaking and groaning grew steadily in volume.
“This was a really bad idea,” he thought as he took another step. Only a few more to go; only a little while longer until he was safe.
One in Four.
It seemed to happen in slow motion, as Barsch watched the last rope handrail begin to fray and unravel. Time had stopped by the time the far rope anchor was ripped out of its socket, and when Barsch tried to turn his head, it seemed to take forever. With enough time for only two words, he screamed, “STAY AWAY!”
Maloch, who had been watching the entire seen unfold, had ignored his desperate plea and was already moving towards him.
He might be doomed, but that did not mean that Maloch had to fall with him. Maloch, however, clearly had conflicting thoughts on the matter. The lumbering re-mech moved with a form-belying speed, his heavy feet shattering the planks beneath him. He managed to stay ahead of the destruction, but it was fast catching up to him. What was he thinking? He could not possibly hope to cross the bridge in time…
“No… it wasn’t possible for him to cross it, but if he was lucky then he might make it almost all the way across. To me.”
Maloch was moving as a blur when he reached Barsch. The boy offered no resistance as the re-mech scooped him up with one massive hand. They were still several feet from the edge, and the wood beneath them was little more than splinters still holding a plank shape. With momentum on his side, Maloch lifted Barsch and threw him. He spun in the air, ground and sky becoming sickeningly interchangeable. Due to his trajectory he had lost sight of his saviour, but his imagination quickly made up for his missing vision.
Maloch’s throw carried him well beyond the lip, where Kingston and Alza were standing in frozen time. Kingston, his face contorted into a rictus of horror and fear, was at odds with the ever-serene Alza. Barsch did not know whether Maloch had had time to aim before he launched him, for he was now spiralling down towards Alza. He wondered if she would catch him, or somehow create a cushion of air to soften his fall.
He received his answer a microsecond later when she side-stepped smoothly and let him crash into the hard-packed earth. The force of his abrupt halt drew the air from his lungs, but he did not feel anything snap or break. Without giving his body a moment’s rest, Barsch heaved himself up and turned back to his saviour, or rather, where his saviour had been. Where the re-mech had been, only empty air remained. There had been only one place for him to go: down.
“MALOCH!!!!” he screamed, knowing that his friend was gone.
Silence, and then, “Yes, Barsch?”
Barsch could only watch dumbfounded as the re-mech appeared over the lip of the canyon, its heavy arms dragging its body upwards and over the edge. Barsch did not know what to say or do, he could only sit there and laugh in relief.
“I am sorry I did not give you adequate notice of my intentions, but time was rather limited.”
“Its fine, I don’t care! As long as you’re safe!”
“I have not sustained any significant damage, if that is what you mean.”
This earned another bout of laughter from Barsch. It was either laugh or cry, and he had thankfully chosen the former. Maloch stood before him, relatively unharmed.
One in four?
“We defied the odds, but only just…”
The four of them -everyone accounted for- stood in silence for a while. Barsch was trying to think of the proper words to convey his gratitude, but the whole ordeal had robbed him of his vocabulary. Kingston wore a mixture of relief and worry, but that was almost his default state. Barsch knew that the old hermit wanted to chastise him for his foolishness, but something held back the cautionary words.
Turning towards his saviour, he said, simply, “Thank you, friend.”
With those three words he tried to convey the enormity of his gratefulness, and from the way Maloch’s eyes lit up he had succeeded. They stood there, in a bubble of unspoken words, until Alza shattered it by leaving. She did not even look back as she walked away, and they were forced to hurry after her lest she disappear from sight.
Awakening Page 110