Pale Country Pursuit

by Hans Kneifel

  He looked at his watch. Still 8 hours until morning. But he nodded with satisfaction when he remembered that he’d be cutting that time in half with 4 hours of sleep.

  “When will you be leaving us, my dear friend?” asked Umman with malice.

  “Who knows?” replied Sawbones non-commitally.

  His inner thoughts continued unabated. The pursuing group of Kralasenes probably wouldn’t number more than 20 men. Too many logistics problems otherwise. Besides, the indications of statistical probability were that a single man could accomplish more than a small army-under special circumstances.

  And en route to the Omirgos there would be sufficient ‘special circumstances’.

  8/ THE NARROWING CHASE

  I couldn’t wait to get through the northern gate. In a matter of minutes now we would be leaving Adjover as fast as we could go. I checked over the ropes and straps once more, making sure our weapons and supplies were safely packed onto the sled.

  “OK, let’s go—everybody on board!” I said, helping Farnathia into the sled cradle. We were able to support our backs against the heavy protective netting at the rear. There were no lights in the village but I was certain that we were being observed by many curious eyes.

  I looked above us. The sky was clearing up exceptionally well. The great column of vapour rising beyond the crater walls a few hundred meters beyond this location was presently drifting away at an angle over Warm Spot. The day gave promise of being beautiful and clear. It was just right for our highly adventurous sleighride behind five odoriferous animals.

  There was a movement to my left—Fratulon. He grinned, raising his hand in recognition.

  He snapped his fingers. “Go!” he exclaimed. “The Prince is incapacitated for the moment.”

  He handed me a roll of unbreakable adhesive tape. It was obvious that he had probably shut down all the power controls and tied Umman into a helpless bundle.

  Once more we had gained a bit of leeway for our operations.

  “You mean we can really take off?” inquired Ice Claw plaintively. For days now he had hardly given voice to his inner anxieties.

  “We have to. The last stage of the journey!”

  Sawbones tightened his gloves and swung on board. At present the sled runners were suspended and the wide rollers were in operating position. I tightened the fastenings of the net and then the whip cracked. Fratulon jerked on the five double reins in his hands and our draft animals set out in a bedlam of bleating and roaring. We rolled noisily over the uncertain pavement, across the plaza and then down the steep exit road that led through the stretched—out settlement to the northern gate.

  As the last dwellings came into sight and we emerged from the Adjover gully, there was a narrow strip of light on the eastern horizon. The stars were fading. We were starting the last leg of our unusual journey.

  Fratulon shouted a comment: “If these animals can keep up a speed like this, we’ll only need 3 days!”

  “They’re hefty as robots,” I commented back.

  Twenty furry paws drummed against the ground in a swift, clattering cadence. Umman’s final orders had caused the gate to be opened and we swept through between the guard towers and out of the settlement’s canyon. Before us lay the gentle downslope of the crater region, which would make a transition to frozen glacial terrain somewhere to the North.

  Our trail was straight as an arrow. In the days ahead neither wind nor storm nor rain would obliterate our tracks. It would make it easy for anyone following us. As we drew away from the crater, the smoke and vapour column over Warm Spot became increasingly discernible in its frill extent. In our wake was a fine pall of ashes which lingered in the air as a signal of our passage.

  We didn’t know what may have happened in Adjover in the meantime. At any rate we kept the five animals running as fast as they could go. They would serve us as far as the edge of the glacier, as I had learned from Fratulon. In fact, this subject was touched upon as he fell into a conversational mood.

  “Incidentally… in a cave on the glacier I’ve hidden two Markas against a time of emergency like this…” He then launched into an explanation of where the special ice vehicles could be found.

  He seemed to lose himself in a flowery description of the locality he had in mind—of rocky cliffs and curtains of ice, of tunnel-like caverns with eerie echos where glacial ridges as sharp as a knife could trap the unwary. I listened to every word because if we were separated I would have only his description alone to help me locate the sled-like contraptions.

  “Is that the only means of conquering the glacier?” I shouted.

  We had to raise our voices above the rattling of the land casters, the creaking of leather straps and the noise of the animals.

  “Yes—unless one of us can fly!”

  “I wouldn’t doubt you could do even that!” declared Ice Claw.

  Holding Farnathia in my arms, I could feel her warm young body under her furs. Dimly visible in the morning light ahead we could see where the ice and snow was appearing again.

  Suddenly Fratulon spoke up. “Don’t ask me how or why but I have a feeling that the Kralasenes have just arrived at Adjover!”

  I stared at him uncomprehendingly. Was it more than just a premonition? Even he didn’t seem to know but it was reasonable to assume. They were on our trail. Maybe they had spotted us already…

  * * * *

  The igloo was jammed. Thirteen Kralasenes watched in silence while their leader cut through the bonds which had imprisoned the Kergone.

  He had hardly found his voice again before he blurted out, “Who are you? You’re Kralasenes, aren’t you—mercenaries of Sofgart the Blind?”

  The others remained silent and looked wonderingly about them as they listened to their leader’s reply.

  “That’s right. We are after Fratulon the physician. He has three people with him… These bonds appear to be his handiwork.”

  The Kergone began to howl. “That dog! That scum! He blasted open this bunker by placing his steamobile in front of it and letting the boiler blow up! Then what he did was to take the master key

  The rest of his statement was drowned out in the sudden rough laughter of the Kralasenes. They slapped their thighs and struck each other’s shoulders in a transport of ringing merriment. Umman crouched miserably in his little wagon and could only manage a pained, plaintive grin.

  These 14 men really appeared to be hard and brutal. They would soon capture this sawbones and bring his head back with them! They were tall, broad-shouldered men with faces burned dark by the sun. Their heads were marked by battle scars. Here and there was a missing ear or a horrendous facial scar. A third had a broken chin and another man displayed the marks of an old bum that looked like a triangle.

  “Where did he go?”

  Umman groaned out the details. “He went out the North gate with our best roller sled and five of our fastest Hr’seecs! He said he was going to Kermant Valley.”

  The leader whistled through his teeth. Was it sheer admiration or mere surprise?

  “Do you want to help us? Blind Sofgart will reward you.”

  Umman nodded. In a rage he still remembered his feelings during the past few days. His entire authority over Adjover had been placed in question. He would have to take some hard action to reestablish his position. Against these men, Fratulon didn’t have the slightest chance.

  “He has a head start,” said the Kergone angrily.

  “We figured that. When did he pull out of here?”

  Umman regretted that he did not have the key to his control panel. He did not believe the surgeon-gladiator when he had told him he would leave the master key behind. “At first light of dawn,” he answered. “At a tremendous speed and with our five best draft animals.”

  The Kralasenes carried small but high-intensity energy weapons of Arkonide design. A number of them were also armed with regular knives, swords, explosive weapons or small battle axes. They carried light knapsacks on their backs, cont
aining their field rations. They appeared to be extremely fast and rugged.

  “So,” said the leader pensively, “it’s over the glacier and into Kermant Valley… Do you have a couple of Markas for us?”

  “Yes. We’ve always kept some big ones hidden on the glacier. But we don’t have enough roller-sleds and animals left. Let me think. Maybe we could…”

  The door burst open and a guard from the North tower rushed into the room. “Umman!” he shouted. “I’ve found something! As the doctor was racing through the gate he tossed something into the air. I saw it flash like a piece of metal but I didn’t think that…”

  “Give it here, you idiot!” thundered Umman.

  The guard reacted in fright, backing into two Kralasenes who held him, and the Kergone snatched the key out of his hand. He inserted it immediately into a slot on his control panel. In a moment the instruments began to light up and start blinking. With a few adjustments Umman isolated the damaged circuits of his control equipment and cleared up the interference.

  “Now I shall obtain what you need. But a few men from the settlement will go with you. They will bring back the sleds.”

  “That’s fine—but time is wasting!” said the leader menacingly.

  Unabashed, the mercenary fighters wandered about in the igloo. They turned on reader cubes and read the titles, opened up some of the cans of imported delicacies, tried the bath and various other facilities.

  Umman began to bellow into his microphone. With a few short bursts from the impulse cannon he terrorized the settlement. The result was that within a very short time the necessary roller sleds were towed into the plaza and the draft animals were fetched from their sparse pasture.

  “Do you know that your weapons or any powered equipment will not function beyond this point?”

  “We’re aware of that! That’s why we’re practically on foot, you might say. Come on, Kergone, where are your men?”

  The leader was neither good nor bad. He appeared to move like a marionette. He was a kind of human robot who was loyal to anyone who paid for his services, whether pursuit or murder was involved. He was a mercenary, a highly efficient gladiator.

  He would fight to the extreme and shove anything out of his way that hindered his objective. The goal was vital: either the capture of Fratulon and Atlan and the other two–or their death.

  “They are coming! They are obeying me again! Just wait a little bit longer!” pleaded the Kergone.

  “We know that you will do everything necessary to obey Sofgart the Blind,” asserted the leader calmly. But there was a definite warning in his words.

  “That is true, sir!” whined Umman.

  Outside there was a noticeable sound and movement. The sleds and animals were there. The settlers of Adjover felt threatened once more by the impulse cannon and other energy weapons of their dark-scaled Prince, yet they were also confused and uncertain regarding the new visitors, with whom they also associated danger-and quite correctly.

  “You will get everything we have to give you!” sighed the Kergone. “We’re going to try to help you so that you can capture Fratulon and his three companions as quickly as possible.”

  “That is our only purpose.”

  The Kralasenes worked swiftly and methodically. Once they recognized the means of accelerating the preparations, they gave the settlers a hand. In the early

  afternoon three roller sleds left Adjover at a breakneck speed.

  The last act of the chase had begun.

  Umman the Kergone was hoping that the Kralasenes would bring back Fratulon’s head on a pole. He knew it was unlikely they would kill the girl. They would give her first to him and then when he was tired of her he would turn her over for the general use of the entire body of men in the settlement.

  * * * *

  We did not feel overly confident. The inexplicable feeling that the Kralasenes could see us with just a little luck caused us to be both uneasy and dejected. Except for Fratulon who didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. He drove the animals, however, as though his life had been wagered in the race. At first we rushed across the ice-free terrain, raising a plume of dust behind us, and then when we came to the snow and ice we stopped long enough to clap the rollers up and lower the sled runners. The animals gave no sign of fatigue.

  “Our pursuers are no better off than we are!” commented Fratulon. “They don’t even have a fast glider.”

  “We may still outrun them. How far is it to the glacier?” I asked.

  After the runners were firmly in place, we climbed back into the basket cradle. On the snow and ice the animals were only slightly slower. Instead of the clattering rollers we now heard the sliding hiss of the wide runners. And once more the strange Hr’seecs produced their unaccountable outcries as they plunged onward.

  “If we could keep going through the night,” said Sawbones, “we could reach the upper rim of the Asaka Glacier by early morning!”

  I cursed half aloud. The way to the legendary Kermant Valley was long and difficult. But we didn’t have any choice in the matter. The Kralasenes were behind us and the goal was ahead, with unknown dangers in between.

  “Of course the only illumination we’ll have is the stars,” added Fratulon. “But keep your chin up! I know every boulder in this area!”

  A lonely and desolate land greeted us. Compared to the terrain we had raced through thus far, this region was emptier and more monotonous. Aside from the fact that it rose gently toward the edge of the glacier it was devoid of any outstanding rock formations or any other kind of special feature or landmark. There was hardly a means of orientation but Fratulon appeared to know the way exactly. He stood up in the sled with his legs firmly braced apart and handled the reins and the whip with unflagging skill. Stretching out behind us was our wide, well-trampled trail.

  Ice Claw’s voice penetrated the steady thumping sound of the draft animals’ feet. “If they are following us we should be able to see them by now!”

  “We’ll see them!” promised Sawbones.

  Farnathia turned to look back. Our tracks made a line so straight behind us that they might have been drawn with a ruler. Suddenly she became excited. She pointed and cried out: “Back there on the horizon… there’s a dust cloud! Just like we were making before!”

  I also turned to look. Since we had been ascending a gradual rise for several hours we had a tremendous view, especially of Warm Spot’s giant vapour cloud. The sky was a brilliant blue and completely clear, without a single weather cloud. Our track converged to seeming infinity on the southern horizon. On that far horizontal line we could plainly discern a tiny plume of dust and ashes. It could be caused by no one but the Kralasenes.

  “Fratulon!” I called out. “They’re back there!”

  “I figured as much!” he called back.

  I estimated the distance. Not much more than 30 kilometres, perhaps even less.

  “They look like they’ve had a chance to rest up and start out fresh!” wailed Ice Claw disconsolately. “They’re going to catch us!”

  “We still have a head start,” retorted Fratulon. “And they don’t know the glacier.

  But I know every ice crystal there on the Asaka!”

  His composure was uncanny, I thought. Or was he just trying to reassure us?

  We fell silent but kept turning to look back. The dust plume seemed to come

  nearer. They were apparently closing the distance between us. Our tension increased as our uneasiness grew. A presentiment of approaching doom enveloped us. Only my capable mentor and guide seemed to be equal to the situation. He drove the animals onward, racing up the long rise at an unrelenting pace. Gradually as we receded from the Warm Spot country the temperature dropped.

  “If we could keep this up—maybe 4 days!” said Fratulon.

  “But it may take longer?” I asked.

  “Yes—but not much more than that.”

  Meanwhile we were moving through this invisible zone of force where our energy weap
ons could not function—but such was also the case with the vicious mercenaries of Sofgart the Blind. Somewhere beyond the northern horizon lay the stronghold where the mysterious Omirgos was waiting. But the Kralasenes were onto our trail and wouldn’t give up now. They had discovered us at last.

  “I’ll bet Umman betrayed us!” shouted Ice Claw. “I didn’t expect anything less,” replied Fratulon, “but there was no reason to kill him.”

  The animals were still running fast and did not falter. They were as rugged and persevering as a winter storm.

  “Presumably we have the Markas for getting across the glacier,” I said. “But how will those mercenaries follow us?”

  Fratulon snorted grimly. “You have a lot to learn yet, Atlan. Those outcasts in that settlement also do a lot of hunting on the glacier. So they probably have some glacier sleds stashed away the same as I have!”

  “You were up here before?” asked the girl anxiously.

  “Doesn’t it look as though I knew the way to my own base?” returned Fratulon evasively.

  “It is more than just an appearance,” I said. We raced onward. The looming line of the horizon came closer. Beyond that rim the glacier began. In the gradually dwindling light of the day we could still see that the Kralasenes were driving their beasts unmercifully and our lead over them slowly diminished. Three or four days more… would they be able to overtake us? It would be a suicidal mistake for us to underestimate them for a second. The day became colder, cuttingly cold. We wrapped ourselves in our furs and closed up our collars and sleeves. Facing forward in our line of flight, we were relatively unprotected. The paws of the animals kicked up a swirling flak of snow and ice particles that blew against our faces. It was growing darker swiftly but the Kralasenes had the advantage over us. We had to break a trail as we went, which served them as a guide.

  9/ MAD RACE ON THE GLACIER

  None of us would ever he able to forget that night.

  It was like a wild, mad dream. Our nerves were at the breaking point. No one was hungry any more. Only a few swallows of water from the fur-lined canteen wetted our throats, which seemed otherwise to have closed up.