Pale Country Pursuit

by Hans Kneifel

  The way seemed to be safe but it stretched into seeming eternity. Our feet pained us, costing us extra energy to withstand the misery, and the effort of towing the sled also slowed us down.

  “In two more hours we’ll have it made, Atlan!” said Fratulon.

  Heavy-footed and worn, I stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

  10/ VICTORY & DESPAIR

  We staggered along like sleepwalkers.

  In reality our strength was not even going to last another hour. After this long swift flight through days and nights of climbing and fighting our way, this fog-shrouded plain left us numb. We barely managed to stumble along. If we had lost Ice Claw it was likely we might not have noticed it.

  “Two hours—is that true? Or are you lying to me or keeping something else from me again?” I asked through cracked, leathery lips.

  “No, Atlan. Look down at this snow.”

  I stared at the ground. The snow was thinning out. Here and there were patches

  of brownish moss in the previously unbroken white. But the mist grew heavier. Fratulon kept his compass before him and stumbled on ahead.

  “The snow… it’s melted.”

  “Kermant Valley is also free of snow and ice but hidden by this fog,” muttered Fratulon.

  He reminded me just then of some immortal figure out of a saga who was regaining his vital forces as he neared his homeland.

  “But this fog can also hide the Kralasenes from us!” I said weakly.

  “It’s less than 2 hours from here. One last effort, lad! You’ve held up well, boy, just like a brother to an old battle-scarred gladiator like me!”

  He grimaced at me in what seemed to be a helpless smile. His face was terribly marked by all his exertions. Little streaks of blood had frozen around cuts made by flying ice. And it occurred to me that I probably looked no better than he.

  “It’s not only the Kralasenes we have to watch out for. We must be careful as we approach the centre of the valley.”

  “Why?”

  “Snow ghosts, Kralasenes, other dangers… you name it! The planet is a place of the damned! Danger and violence flourish here in the place of the plants and flowers you’d find anywhere else!”

  “That’s a big consolation to me!”

  We came to a stop and unloaded the Marka with aching backs and shaking muscles and then took Farnathia between us. We staggered onward. The closer we came to the centre of the valley the more I was amazed at our surroundings.

  The snow continued to thin out before us until the open patches of ground began to connect with one another where moss and grasses appeared and continued to become greener. To my further wonderment I now began to see small plants and bright blossoms between the soggy green clumps of grass in the drifting damp fog.

  As we moved onward in a wavering course, suddenly Fratulon came to a halt. He set down his pack and shoved the girl to me as he bent over.

  “Tracks?” I muttered but he turned and motioned me to keep my voice down.

  He pointed to some marks in the mossy ground. “Footprints of the snow ghosts!” he whispered. “Keep your guns ready!”

  Ice Claw and Farnathia and I took our rifles from our shoulders, checked their charges and cocked them in readiness. We picked up our packs again and formed a single-file chain. Fratulon led the way, followed by Farnathia and Ice Claw, while I brought up the rear. We didn’t dare lose sight of each other because we could disappear in the thick fog within only a few steps.

  Fratulon had become wary. He was sure that after his long absence there would have been attempts made to pillage his secret station. If all we had to contend with was snow ghosts it wasn’t too dangerous but if the Kralasenes had beat them here it was another matter. Anything was possible. With loaded and ready rifles we moved onward in a straight line. Sawbones had told us that the immediate surroundings of the station had been kept clear of snow and fog by special technical effects. The grass was deeper now. We saw more flowers and even passed a small tree. Somewhere was the sound of a running brook.

  Fratulon raised a hand. “Stop!”

  He drew our attention to a landmark, which was a cubical stone standing their in the drifting vapours surrounded by colourful plants.

  “A few yards away is the end of the fog,” he whispered. “Be ready!”

  “We’re with you!”

  We stood there and listened. There were no footsteps to be heard. The gentle splashing of the little brook seemed to lull our senses. A slightly discernible zephyr moved the mist along like a swarm of swirling veils but it was still uncomfortably dense. I could barely make out Fratulon and his bald head, not 10 yards away. He raised his arm in a signal and we moved forward slowly and soundlessly. Then we heard shrill laughter. Somewhere somebody was running through the fog and cursing in an unknown language. My fingers almost cramped around the stock and barrel of my rifle. Then the mists thinned suddenly and brightened, cut through and flooded by the rays of the sun, as we emerged from the fog zone.

  “There—our salvation!” said Fratulon, pointing ahead.

  I was speechless.

  An idyllic scene opened before us. It was in the centre of a circular zone that was walled by the mist. I saw green trees budding with flowers and ripening fruit, and the running brook. Straight ahead was a white-walled low building with a grass-grown roof. The structure appeared to have been built of massive blocks of stone which were coated over with a hard, glassy substance. There were no windows. There was a single steel plate that served as an entrance hatch, approached by a narrow white pathway. Of course the 100 or so snow ghosts there did not especially harmonize with this peaceful scene. They formed a ragged circle around the building, carrying heavy stones and clubs and looking, with their long yellow-white fur, like—well, what one might picture snow ghosts to be.

  Only about 500 yards separated us from the station.

  “What now?” I whispered.

  “Give them a surprise volley of fire,” he whispered back. “Then follow me as fast as you can!”

  “I’m ready!”

  The snow ghosts were using all their strength in an attempt to get inside the building. We raised our guns and began to shoot. Almost every shot struck one of the yellow-white figures. Ice Claw emptied his magazine in a rapid series of shots and then sprang back behind us.

  The pack of raging creatures began to show a reaction. Some of them dropped in their tracks while the others started to run about in all directions like so many headless chickens. The wounded ones dragged themselves under the doubtful protection of the trees. We advanced step by step but now we shot at a slower rate and aimed more accurately.

  The girl was between the two of us and then Ice Claw reappeared from the fog bank with a fresh magazine loaded into his weapon. I stumbled suddenly and fell forward, yet even as I fell I heard a noise behind me and a gasp of pain. I turned but my rifle barrel was in an unfavourable position.

  “Farnathia!” I yelled.

  The rest happened with lightning rapidity. I saw two fur-clad figures jump at the girl as Ice Claw turned and got in the way of Fratulon’s line of fire. Almost simultaneously I was rolling across the ground to evade the shots of a third man

  who had emerged from the fog.

  “Atlan! Help me! They’re taking me!”

  Pulling the frantically struggling girl between them, the two Kralasenes disappeared into the heavy curtains of mist. I was filled with a wild surge of anger as I leapt to my feet and raised my rifle, firing one shot after another. But then I lowered the weapon helplessly.

  Fratulon got the third Kralasene in the head, was the one that had fired at me. I broke loose and plunged into the fog.

  “Atlan—halt!”

  It was Fratulon’s voice, reminding me of my promise. I knew that voice better than any other and I also knew the language of its inflections. Now he was ruthless and lull of stern authority. I knew that in this case my lifetime friend was demanding unconditional obedience and that he knew how to back
up his command. When Fratulon spoke in that tone, I knew the cold, hard resolve that was behind it.

  I paused in mid-stride and halted. Then I turned and walked past Ice Claw, who was still firing into the milling pack of snow ghosts. The recoil of the heavy rifle shook his childlike frame with each shot.

  Fratulon’s weapon was aimed at my legs. “I’ll shoot your legs out from under you,” he growled, “if you run after her!”

  “But… they’ve stolen her! I love her, Fratulon—I have to go after them!”

  “Love is perishable,” he said. “You would never be able to find her. Forget the girl!”

  I was beside myself. I was not able to think clearly at the moment but my mentor’s voice held me in its spell.

  “Other tasks are waiting for you. Let’s go! We have to get into the station! Your hot-blooded emotions are blocking our last chance! The Kralasenes can fire at us from the fog!”

  My head slumped. I obeyed. We aimed at the creatures who still offered us resistance but finally they fled as we pushed through to the entrance.

  Fratulon spoke a command which was unintelligible to me and the heavy steel panel opened for us. We were saved.

  * * * *

  “The time is ripe—overripe! Duties and responsibilities await you that are of much greater significance than the loss of a loved one!” said Fratulon, placing a consoling hand on my shoulder.

  I couldn’t dismiss the suspicion that the energy barrier zone between Warm Spot and the Pole had been generated by some mysterious means of his own in order to shield Kermant Valley from discovery. The massive door had glided shut behind us but here inside there was light and warmth. The installations here were highly technical, in fact for me and Ice Claw they were bewildering. In this place the energy barrier was gone.

  “What duties are you talking about? What does all this mean? How did you acquire these things and all this science and technology?”

  With a patronizing but noncommittal grin on his face, Fratulon looked around at the installations inside his stronghold and then returned his gaze to me and Ice Claw. He pointed to the Omirgos. “There are some things that are so secret… I don’t even discuss them with myself,” he said cryptically. “Later, lad—later!”

  I couldn’t think coherently any more. Farnathia had been captured and now faced a destiny that I failed to imagine. We were at our goal now in the midst of all this bewildering, flashing and glowing equipment—the terminus of our long and desperate flight. Where did we go from here? In a partially separate room—could see the base of a giant crystal that must have measured at least 8 meters in diameter. The crystal was glowing with a golden inner effulgence and pulsed in a strange, slow rhythm. I lowered my rifle. Ice Claw was also completely confused. We could understand nothing of this and thus we were completely dependent upon Fratulon.

  “Inside that crystal are 1024 forcefields,” he told us, “and that’s the means by which we’ll be able to leave Gortavor. I mean right now, in a very few seconds.”

  I gasped at him—in a barely audible whisper: “You mean… that’s the Omirgos?”

  “Yes. Sooner or later we would have left this planet, anyway. But what’s happened was made it imperative, Atlan, that you undergo your first real test and begin to fight for your rightful inheritance!”

  He said this with a formal solemnity I had hardly ever heard him use before. There was a touch of both pride and sadness in his words. But in my mind I was still with the girl. I longed for her. I would never in my life be able to forget her. Fratulon appeared to guess my thoughts because he persisted stubbornly, pointing to the giant crystal. It was glowing more brilliantly now and with an increased tempo in its pulsations.

  Fratulon took my hand in a painfully hard grip. “Come!” he said quietly.

  In all this confusion of feelings and conflicting considerations, the sound of his voice was my only focal point of reason, the only consolation I had left to me. Ice Claw followed in silence. We approached the crystal, we passed through its

  surface and disappeared into its soft golden glow-where we dematerialised.

  Gortavor was a part of the past.

  I was aware of trembling when I realized that something was happening to the three of us. An unknown future reached toward me with cold, sharp talons. I had a presentiment that all my previous adventures had been but a warm summer zephyr compared to the hurricane of events that awaited me in an unmeasured succession of tomorrows.

  Gortavor… was gone. Whither now?