by J. D. Sonne
By this time, all work on construction had stopped and the group of viruls watching the exchange was growing by the pour. She heard the muttering comments passed from those in the inner circle of knowledge out to those who were gathering. “It’s going to be a fight!” “Between the lead and Chun?” “Chun is tough! He will kick her arse!” “Not against a trained lead, you fool!” “She will not only kick his arse, but send him up to the stars or down to the Watergods!” And on and on.
Rane stood with her arms folded waiting for Chun’s decision. What kind of contest would he choose? It could be an activity indigenous to this camp, of which she had been a member only a few weeks. He could select a contest testing their knowledge history of their rebellion, or even landmarks out here that she not only didn’t know, but had no idea existed. Suddenly, the tendrils of worry crept into her mind. This was a really stupid idea. As she was concocting her rousing proposal, she had assumed it would be a physical contest, but now that she thought about it, there was no way Chun would pick such a competition. There was a reason she had a hefty confidence in her physical abilities. Leads were better trained than viruls and everyone on this world knew it. A virul may have more physical strength than a given Lead, but as shown with her drubbing of Murman, a large virul’s strength could be used against him, especially if he were as stupid as Murman. But Chun was anything but stupid.
Finally, Chun stood up and swept his hands down his breeches as if to dry the sweat from his hands. “I am ready,” he said.
Landman, who had been standing behind Rane, stepped around her and said, “Listen, Chun! You don’t have to do this! We will think of another way to deal with the situation.
Rane put her hand on Landman’s arm and whispered, “Nothing else will do to end this between me and Chun. Trust me.”
Landman turned his eyes toward her and Rane saw the abject desperation there. She had never seen him so agitated, not even during the first few hours of their encounter, and all the uncertain terror that accompanied that situation. No, this was different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it had a lot more to it than his worry at losing his waterwork Forelead.
His voice had a calm that was not reflected in his face. “All right,” he finally agreed, whispering, “But, be careful. Chun is well—he can be deceptive.”
“Noted,” Rane replied.
“This will be the contest,” Chun said. “We will climb the crystal gilded cliff! The first to the top will be the victor and will win the outcome.”
Rane shook her head. Her memories took her back to her second day of captivity when she had seen climbers on the crystal face for the first time. She remembered wishing to try the climb and even vowing to do so some day. Landman had gotten her on the cliff twice and while she hadn’t done too badly, she suspected that there was a good reason Chun had picked this contest. Her involvement with the waterwork, not to mention her captivity, had precluded any serious practice on the cliff, and she cursed now at the memory of her refusal of Landman’s other invitations to climb after work, exhaustion or some other excuse having been the reason. How she wished now she hadn’t demurred.
It hadn’t been that she didn’t relish a bracing climb. She and her friends had often tackled cliffs in her home sector, but her two attempts on the crystal cliff’s liquid surface make her feel like an absolute novice at climbing. Well, there was nothing else she could do but accept the challenge, so she did.
“We will meet in thirty pours at the base of the cliff,” Chun announced, looking at Landman to ensure his nod.
Rane dashed toward her hut, then slowed, remembering to preserve her energy for the grueling climb. Although she wasn’t running any longer, she still felt her strength seeming to drain into the ground with every footfall. She forced herself to fill her head with positive thoughts. After all, Chun’s choice of a contest had been a part of her extensive training as a Lead, and his choice could have been much worse for her; however, it certainly was not the best scenario for his defeat and Rane wondered how much he had been on the cliff as late. He and the raiding party had only recently returned, so if he had been prone to climb as recreation, perhaps he wasn’t as primed for the event as she feared. There was only one way to find out.
This time, she didn’t try to quell her lope as she was sure time was running out and soon she was at her hearth, Shad stirring a stew for their lunch.
“Shad!” Rane exhaled as she ran up to the female, startling her into dropping the spoon into the embers.
“Lead Rane!” Shad yelled. “Don’t run up on me like that!” She clutched at her chest and fanned her face. “What is wrong?” She asked when she saw Rane gasping, her face a mess of worry.
“Shad! Does Chun climb? Does he climb the crystal cliff often?”
“Why?”
As Rane recounted the events, Shad tsked and clicked, shaking her head at the report of Chun’s behavior. Finally, when Rane was finished, Shad said, “Well, I know that he enjoys climbing the wall, but I have not seen him up with the rest of the boys since his return.”
“How would you compare him to the other climbers?” Rane asked anxiously. “Is he better, worse, same?”
“Better,” Shad said nonchalantly, then amended upon the crestfallen look on Rane’s face, “Not by much. But wait!”
Shad ran to her hut, ducked inside and out instantaneously.
“Here!” Shad said, thrusting it into Rane’s hand. “I used to climb a little and we use this!”
Rane pulled on the drawstrings of the pouch and looked inside. She reached her thumb and two fingers in and pulled out of pinch of what looked like white dust. But when she squeezed a clump, it kept its form.
“That will help your hands stick to the crystal wall,” Shad said. “As you probably experienced, the wall is slipperier than plain rock. This is a mixture of tree sap and chalk that we use to help us in our climbing. Have you ever climbed before? Have you been on the crystal cliff?”
“Yes, twice. But I didn’t use this stuff, and neither did Landman. And I have climbed in training,” Rane said, using the pouch to rub the mess off her thumb and fingers and pulling the strings to close it snugly. “But our artificial climbing walls and plain rock are nothing like that!” Rane gestured vaguely at the translucent cliff which was visible from almost every corner of camp. Before, it was a gorgeous extension of blue sky—now it loomed like a curtain of ice knives and frozen lethal blades.
“You’ll be fine,” Shad assured her. “You are stronger than any man in this camp. You have taught me that much, at least!”
“Hopefully, today doesn’t prove me a liar,” Rane said.
She was sure it was almost time, but again forced herself to slow, gather her wits and regulate her breathing. She may be late, but so what? They could not start without her.
As she moved through the camp, she saw Landman walking swiftly toward her. When they met, he pulled something from his belt. It was a pouch much like the one Shad had given her which she now pulled out of her pocket. Dangling the two pouches before each other’s noses, they began to laugh in relief.
“Why didn’t you use the powder when we climbed?” Rane asked. “Does it really make a difference?”
“Yes, it does,” Landman puffed. “I didn’t use it before, because when you and I climbed, I was too lazy to fetch it from my tent. Here, put it all in one pouch—it’s more than you need, but you never know.”
After they worked together to get all the precious dust into Shad’s pouch, it being the better crafted, Landman stood back and looked at her. As they assessed each other for an awkward few pours, he finally said, “You’ll be fine. Chun has not been on the wall for a few suns, and you did not do so badly your first time up. The second time was even better.”
“I just hope it’s enough,” Rane said, enjoying his reassurance, but not believing a word of it. Three scenarios filled her mind: winning and continuing work on the waterwork, losing and being stuck serving with the females for the rest of her life, or fa
lling to her death.
Rane and Landman had rendezvoused in the center of camp and by the time they made their way to the crystal wall, all the huts were deserted. Every virul, female and child had herded themselves toward the wall, and when Rane and Landman arrived, they were sitting or standing in little clusters about base, craning their necks at the blue crystal expanse above them. Rane had never seen an organized festival or gathering during her time in camp, but the activity about her showed that the inhabitants were no strangers to mingling or to devising diversions as they waited for the contest. A few boys were practicing climbing on the knobbier areas of crystal at the wall’s base. Some young females sat and watched the boys, but to Rane’s chagrin, none joined in the climb. If it had been a different day, she would have grabbed them, dragged them to the wall and taught them how to shimmy up. Of course, if she lost or fell to her death today, that would deter them even further from trying. Rane stood looking at them, at first feeling hopeless. She felt overwhelmed at the invisible mantle that seemed to creep about her shoulders. A deep responsibility to these girls spread in her gut, and she pledged that not only would she survive today, but she would beat Chun in that climb, come nether gods or flood. She would not leave these females to wither under their supposed weakness, relegated to serving the viruls in the camp, no matter how comfortable they felt in the role.
A fire filled her, and she willed it to burn, fueling it by drawing on the violent history of her world under the accursed viruls. She thought about all the ancient stories her mother and other Titleds shared with her over the years of the atrocities against the females of Maraquan. The subjugation of millennia fed the conflagration in her innards, and she felt the fire spread throughout her limbs, filling her with what she felt was an indomitable power.
“Let’s get started!” Rane powered out the words to those milling about. “Let’s start the contest! What are we waiting for?”
Even Landman was surprised by the vigor of her shout, and he nodded at Bruse who was to direct the contest. Chun stepped away from Terran, rat and Shrono and kicked his feet, pumped his arms and flexed his fingers to warm up. After spreading the climbing dust on hands and patting them against his trousers, he stepped toward the base and giving a final roll of his shoulders, nodded to Bruse.
“I am ready,” Chun said.
Rane’s spirit was still aflame, and the resulting buoyancy make her feel as if she would not even have to climb the cliff, but actually fly to its pinnacle. Chun’s application of the dust reminded her, and she reached into the pouch and spread the resin on her hands. “Me, too! Let’s go!” She announced, dusting her hands slightly.
“Hands on the cliff!” Bruse’s rolling command echoed off the blue crystal and bounced into the forest around them. “Ready! CLIMB!”
Rane had positioned herself at the section of cliff that she knew and as soon as Bruse’s permission to climb entered her ears, her hands grasped at the first handhold, and she hoisted herself up to where she knew the first footholds were.
The cliff was not as vertical as it looked, its gentle slant a boon to those who climbed its blue liquid sheen, rendering the exercise if not easy, at least possible. Rane used the eddies and fractured edges of the crystal for her hands and feet to pull herself up and up, only glancing over at Chun occasionally. Incredibly, he was not that far above her in the climb and the fire erupted in her again, propelling her up the wall, the handholds and footholds appearing in the bosom of the cliff almost by magic. After a few impossible ladder-like formations revealed themselves, Rane began to believe that she was being aided by her god, and the depth of spiritual awareness seemed to heighten her ability.
Up and up, Rane used a depression in the crystal to rest and recoat her hands; she was just about to resume her pull up the cliff when a noise seeped over the surface toward her. She couldn’t lean out as far as she wanted, but the indentation in the cliff allowed her some purchase of safety and when she swiveled her head carefully toward the sound, she saw that Chun was in trouble. It was his cry of distress she had heard.
He was not far from her, only a troughlength, and she saw that he was dangling, his hands his only precarious attachment to the cliff, his toes feeling for a foothold, but finding none.
Rane studied the situation and saw a nice grab by her face and reaching for it, she also extended her foot which found a hefty jut against which it rested. Eying the surface around Chun, she saw a foothold toward her position that was invisible to Chun, but if she could talk him toward it, he might be able to steady his climb and save his own life.
“Chun! Reach your foot toward me!”
“I can’t!” Chun rasped. “I’m barely able to hang on as it is!”
“You have to!” Rane said. Then she put on her full Lead voice. “DO IT! Your god will help you! Now reach it over!”
Chun did, and failed, his feet dangled horribly into the yawning space below them. Rane heard the distant yells of the spectators below them for the first time, having blocked them out as she focused on the cliff face.
“Again!” Rane commanded. “You can do it, Chun! You can do it!”
Suddenly, Chun’s face became familiar, and a memory found its way to the front of Rane’s mind.
She and her little brother were performing a teetering walk on a high fence between Tollichet’s and Larad’s estate and the little virul lost his footing. Rane, older by five years, covered the area between them with the authority that her elder age allowed and was only able to grab a foot to save him from careening down the two troughlength wall headfirst. She saw his face and heard her voice. “Chuan! You can do it! Chuan! Reach toward me with your hand!”
The face was the same. Her voice was the same. Chuan! Chun! Her brother! How had she not seen it before?
The fire inspired by the young females below her now tripled with the mandate of saving her lost brother, sent away as a young disenfranchised virul.
She saw that Chun had found the tiny ledge for his foot and was resting. His left hand then commandeered his right hand’s hold and he edged toward Rane, his eyes grateful, but his body shaky.
The rest of the climb they ascended the cliff in concert with one another, ensuring each other’s safety, climbing as a team rather than individuals. As Rane had never summitted the cliff before, she asked Chun. “How far?”
“We are almost there!” Chun said. “You go ahead. I’m all right, now. You have bested me, and because you also saved my life, I want there to be no question to any of those below as to who won this contest.”
Rane nodded and edged slightly above Chun, but kept him in her sights to make sure he was safely summitting, also.
At the top of any climb, the going is slower, as strength is depleted, and time is lengthened, and air is thinner. As Rane pulled herself up, one handhold and foothold at a time, her mind grasped at the knowledge that Chun was her brother, the one who had been spirited away after his speech had started, the one who had followed her around from the time he had learned to walk. They had only a brief time to bond, but bond they did. She wondered if he remembered her. Probably not, he had been so little when he had been ripped away from the household. When her hands felt the lip of the summit and she was able to pull her body up over the cliff, she found that she was weeping. She stood, and assumed the raised fists of victory, then reached down to Chun who had hoisted himself up also, and pulled him to her side and lifted his hand up with hers. Faint cheers rose from the base and although she had won the right to direct the waterwork and had likely earned the respect of everyone in the camp, Chun’s look of gratitude was the real prize.
Chapter Eleven
Rane awoke to an uncomfortably hot tent, the full sun of late morning flashing its burn over the entire camp. Only at its apogee could the sun conquer the tree wall to the east of the glen, and it was as if its rays intensified to make up for its lost pours to shine on the camp the rest of the day.
The quiet of the camp indicated that the pour was indeed late,
and as Rane crawled to the entrance of the hut and blearily looked out, she saw a decided lack of the usual hubbub of activity.
Kicking herself free of the sleeping skins, she emerged from the hut and sat at the hearth, looking around for Shad. The female must have gone on an errand but had left a kettle of gruel warming in the coals. Rane saw that she had cunningly scattered the embers so the pottage would not burn, and she gratefully grabbed a wooden spoon off the stone wall of the firepit and dug into the gruel.
As she sat hunched over the pot, leaning over the stone to get at the pottage, she heard laughter advancing toward her. Looking up, she saw a small herd of young females passing her hearth, passing a conspiracy of gossip back and forth, their giggles punctuating its volley from one girl to the next.
It was then that Rane remembered the victory of the day before and thanked her god that she could begin to make good her vow of helping the young females that fired her to the win over Chun, another memory warming her at the thought of her new-found brother. She hurriedly eased off the hearth, not wanting the girls to see a Lead in such a slovenly position and called to them.
“Young Leads!” Yes, it was a promotion, but she wanted them to start experiencing their superiority in this camp.
They froze in a rather comic startle and Rane almost laughed, but restrained herself. There were four of them, all dressed in the common garb of their camp ranging from simple shifts to leather breeches and jerkins. She decided to break the ice with a question.
“I need some help! Could you answer a question for me?”
The females hunched together, and Rane could almost read their minds as they considered their options. Should we talk to the Lead? What could she want with us? What is she going to ask? It might be a dangerous question that we shouldn’t answer. But what if she orders us? Will she kill us if we don’t answer?
Finally, the girls eased their huddle and poked the tallest girl forward, a good-looking female with dark, darting brown eyes and sumptuous hair ropes that fell to her waist. “Yes, Lead. What is it?”