Fire World

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Fire World Page 30

by Chris D'Lacey

“But it hasn’t,” Harlan said, looking her way. The Aunt’s eyes were wrinkled but firmly shut. “Perhaps her fain was so weak as her life began to slip that she wasn’t able to realize her intent?”

  “Perhaps,” said David. “But there’s another, more worrying, possibility.

  “The Higher were eager to impress on me just how the claw works. I’m pretty sure Agawin knew about this when he sealed the claw away. Agawin learned the truth about dragons. He knew their origins, their whereabouts, and their gifts of prediction. But the part that would fascinate the phys:icist in you is their link to time, consciousness, and matter. The claw draws upon the energy of universal flux and the principle of describing order from chaos. If that was applied over a time nexus, such as the one you tried to link to in your lab …”

  “Its effects might be delayed,” Harlan muttered. He turned away, feeling the dressing at his eye. This wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. “So she could keep us guessing for another twenty spins and still give us a nasty surprise one day.”

  “That’s about the size of it, yes.”

  “So what do you plan to do?”

  “Hand her to Strømberg and leave it to him. We have the claw now. We can be ready for her if she turns up again.”

  Harlan walked to the window and opened the shutters. Darkness had fallen and the water was calm. The many hundreds of boats that now accompanied the ark could only be identified by the colored lights strung from their tipping masts. The heavy rain had given way to a sturdy breeze, which swept in to refresh the atmosphere in the room. One of the firebirds gave a grateful rrrh and looked pleased to have some air running through its feathers. Harlan drummed his fingertips against the shutters. “There’s something else you have to hear. Does the term ‘Isenfier’ mean anything to you?”

  Not wishing to mention the tapestry yet, David just said, “In a reference book Mr. Henry used to have, Isenfier is mentioned as the site of a battle. How did you learn of it?”

  “In the Dead Lands I had a vision of Gawain. I was warned about a Shadow, which I took to be the Ix. When the black firebird came, I commingled with the Cluster that had got into its mind. The Ix were following a signal from Isenfier, hoping to track you down and kill you. When I asked the Ix why you were being targeted, they identified you as some kind of champion or savior. With you gone, it was clear they thought they could win the battle — or that the battle could continue. I wasn’t sure.”

  “What was sending the signal?” David asked. His tone was noticeably quieter now.

  His father turned to look at him. “A dragon. A peculiar little thing. It held a pen — or possibly another claw. The Ix had a name for it. Creat:or, I think.” He paused a moment. “You know of this, don’t you?”

  David pushed himself upright and came to the window. “I’ve seen an image of the dragon you’re talking about.” And he told his father then about Agawin’s tapestry, and how it described the battle of Isenfier, apparently suspended in time. For the moment, to preserve the calm, he said nothing about Penny’s presence on it — or Mathew’s, for that matter.

  “Where is the tapestry? Can I see it?” Harlan asked. Even with just the one eye frowning, he looked every bit the devoted scientist.

  David shook his head. “It disappeared during the change. Two of our firebirds are searching for it. I don’t want to upset Mom with this, so it would be best if you kept it to yourself for now.”

  “Can you draw it? Or imagineer something from memory?”

  “I can try.”

  “Good,” said Harlan. “Do what you can. If this really is Agawin’s creation, we must show Mathew and Bernard at least.”

  David half-nodded. “I’d like Counselor Strømberg to see it as well. Can we wait till he arrives?”

  “Yes.”

  Just then, the faint clang of a bell reached their ears. Both men instinctively looked up. And though there was no real change to the scene, another bell was struck slightly nearer the first, then another and another. Until the ocean was ringing with sound. And closer to the ark, voices were shouting. And they were all saying one thing only.

  Land.

  4.

  Leaving orders with the firebirds to come to him at once if there was any change in Aunt Gwyneth’s condition, David and his father headed for the nearest deck. Along the way, David imagineered an eyeglass. As soon as he was out in the cool night air he trained it forward. Far beyond the leading line of boats (scores of them had now got in front of the ark), he thought he could see a faint wave of light. In the darkness, at this distance, it was impossible to confirm that it was land based, but there was little reason to doubt the message chain. Within the hour they would know for certain. By morning, they would see the land clearly.

  Before he closed the eyeglass up, David swiveled it toward another light at the very prow of the vessel. Rosa was there, sitting astride a glowing Terrafonne. Her hair was being pulled back by the wind, accentuating the delicate curve of her jaw and her long slender neck. She looked stunning.

  “Anything?” asked Harlan, cupping his eye (to no effect).

  David took the glass away. “Too far to tell.” He sat down on the deck with his back against a cabin wall. “Dad, can I ask you something now?”

  “Anything.”

  “How did you escape from the Dead Lands?”

  Harlan sat down a little more slowly and a little less comfortably. There was a gnawing pain across the center of his back and a chafing scanner burn above his left knee that even Eliza had not seen yet. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “I think you need to share it. Your sorrow was all over the claw.”

  Harlan nodded. “It wasn’t pretty,” he said as he stretched out his legs. “But your sister’s heard it and so should you.”

  “You told Penny?”

  “Only the bones,” Harlan chuckled. “If you’d been around at dinner, you would have heard Mathew pepping her up. He managed to describe to her, in exciting detail, how we lit a huge fire to lure the Re:movers and steal their transport.”

  “Is that true?”

  “In essence, yes. We set the blaze in a ruined tower on top of a hill called the Isle of Alavon. It must have been seen across half of Co:pern:ica. We also arranged torches in the shape of a letter A on the wetland where the Re:movers make their drops, to get them precisely where we wanted them. The marshes in that region are perilous. In daylight, because of the abundance of grasses and the fact that the water is so shallow and still, the land appears flat and walkable. But the entire morass is a giant pit of unfaithful ground and evil trenches. One false step and you’re sucked into slime, where all you can look forward to is slow suffocation. It’s quite horrifying.

  “We trained on the marsh for three or four days, flagging up pathways and running them constantly, especially at night or when rain was in the air, until we were confident we knew the topography and could change direction at will — and survive. We dug makeshift hideouts in the driest ground so we could launch simultaneous attacks from several directions. In those final few days we ate communally, so we could talk through the problems and dangers — and fears. When the chosen night came, we shook hands and wished each other brave fortune. Then we lit the beacon and waited. Twenty-one men. Armed with nothing but sticks, stones, and grim determination. And it worked — if anything, a little too well.

  “We had made preparations for two Re:movers in one vehicle. In the end, three came in two. Craft very similar to penal taxicars, but sleeker models, refitted for combat. Fearing we were out of our depth, I wanted to abandon the attack. I formed an idea to explain to the machines that we had lit the fire in praise of Agawin. There would have been reprimands, some splitting up of the tribe, perhaps, but they probably wouldn’t have punished us too harshly. But before I could get the message out, a stone flew through the air and struck the first car, leaving one of its windows shattered. After that, we had no choice but to fight.

  “The first maneuver went much as we’d planne
d it. Mathew leaped up, hurled another stone at the second taxicar, shouted some abuse, and took off across the marsh. Two Re:movers immediately went after him. We knew they would have some basic capability for adapting to the poor conditions, but we were gambling on the fact that the marsh is unpredictable. Sure enough, one of them plowed straight in and went down to knee level while it was opening fire. In our hideouts, we tightened our fists in triumph. But our elation was short-lived. From that moment on our plan was exposed. While the sinking machine struggled, the other opened its wrist :com and asked the taxicar for assistance. We knew their databases were bound to be inadequate because there are no comparable conditions in Central. But those things learn fast. There was a beep and the standing machine swept another device across the marsh. I realized it was some kind of densito:meter, highlighting areas of solid ground. It took it less than ten secs to work out a route to Mathew.

  “It went straight for him, covering the terrain at remarkable speed. Meanwhile, the sinking one had applied a kind of anti:G:rav to its body and was beginning to overcome the suck of the marsh. Bernard said into my ear, ‘We need the weights.’ We had roped together lines of stones, each just heavy enough for a man to carry. The idea was to loop them around the Re:movers at close range, hopefully to pull them down. I gave the order and eight of us ran forward. We came at it from behind in two groups, not expecting a great deal of resistance. But we were in for a serious shock. None of us knew that the machines can dislocate their joints. The Re:mover unhinged its knees, swiveled a few degrees, and opened fire. Our leading attacker, a huge hulk of a man with wild curly hair, was cut down in a moment. He fell heavily to the marsh, creating a dense spray of mud and water. Bernard stumbled into him and only survived the next blast because he tripped and fell, injuring his ankle. The flash that was intended for Bernard struck the man behind him, searing his robe and the length of his arm. He cried out in agony and staggered sideways, losing his footing. He fell, facedown into the marsh. There was no hope for him. Two dead and one crippled. And we were still some fifteen paces from our target.

  “But we had the darkness and a medic called Terance Humbey, who knew the best ground and had the speed to cross it. As the rest of us threw ourselves flat, Terance got around the side of the thing, swung his rope in both hands, and landed a powerful blow to the side of the Re:mover’s head. I saw the head tilt as it wrenched from the shoulder. A bunch of wires sprang out. The Re:mover jerked and began to fire at random, lighting up the night with its scanner flares. Terance swung again, catching it with another powerful blow. This time there was a crackle. The smell of burning circuitry. By then I was on my feet and hoping to get my rope around the thing. As I closed in, the scanner flare that dazzled my eye went off and I lost my aim. The rope flew over the Re:mover’s shoulder, but one of the smaller stones lodged in the damage Terance had caused. The rope was left dangling down the Re:mover’s back. It wasn’t weight enough, but it was working. The machine had gone in to thigh level.

  “It took another two ropes before it went under. We lost one more man and another was scalded from his hip to his heart before we dealt the blow that took out the scanner. Terance helped the machine on its way with another heavy swing, and the three of us still able to fight — myself, Terance, and a man called Hugo Abbot — turned our attention to Mathew and the other groups hiding on the marsh.”

  Harlan paused here and massaged the skin of his temples. “Forgive me. This next part is very difficult. I may stumble over the words.”

  “Take as much time as you need,” said David. “You’re doing just fine.”

  Harlan nodded and removed his bandage, holding it as if it were a cherished souvenir. Around the socket of his eye, dark scanner burns were visible. In his own words, not pretty. “By now, the second taxicar had taken off to go to the assistance of the Re:mover on the marsh. I was watching its flight when I heard Bernard yelling out an urgent warning. I turned and saw an arm rising out of the mud. The Re:mover had a circular device in its hand. I knew straightaway it was a bomb and I was doomed. But before I could even close my eyes, Hugo had pushed me aside and thrown himself over the hand. This brave, peace-loving, elderly man moved me as if I were his only child and sent himself to a certain death. The weight of his body carried the hand down just far enough to deaden the explosion in the mire. But I can feel it now just as much as I felt it then. A man’s life, shuddering away inside me. A scar far worse than anything visible on my skin.”

  “And the other men?” David prompted gently.

  Somewhere behind them an animal gave out a plaintive cry. A slender creature called a “ferret” sniffed at David’s feet, slipped under his knees, and continued on its way.

  Harlan looked up at the stars. “The Re:mover chasing Mat was avoiding the wet areas with ease. But what its scan had failed to tell it was that some solid areas were not reliable. So when it tried to cross a bridge that we had built of light wood and marsh mud, it went in and its momentum took it under easily. That one didn’t respond. But by now we had a greater threat to deal with — the taxicar. It was equipped with a laser head and infrared detectors. The detectors picked up any signs of body heat and the lasers did the rest. I hope I never live to see another man fatally shot by a weapon like that. The body blanches before it disintegrates. I can’t begin to tell you what it’s like to see the victim’s horror frozen in mono:chrome on their face before they die.”

  “How did you defeat it?”

  “I stole the other car. I’d driven them manually in the days when you still could. It was equipped with a laser as well. I simply blasted the first car out of the sky. Nothing so destructive has ever filled me with such satisfaction.

  “So we had our victory and we had our ride home. It took some time to work out the navigational aids because the routers for the cars are implanted into the Re:movers’ heads. But eventually we were able to set a course for Bushley. By then the flood had started and we could see the ark on all our displays. I knew it had to be connected with you. On the approach we began to lose G:rav. So I ditched the taxicar onto the water and we pooled our auma to make two boats from it. Myself, Bernard, and Mathew took one. Terance skippered the other. And that was that. The next thing we knew we were trying to save the life of that evil witch, Gwyneth. Of all the boats she could have landed beside, it had to be ours.”

  David raised his head and looked into the night. “I think you’ll find that wasn’t a coincidence.”

  His father threw him a quizzical glance.

  “It was a test to see if you’d show her mercy.”

  “Test? Who could set a test like that?”

  “She could.”

  Angel suddenly appeared before them. Wings spread, she glided into view and landed softly on the deck beside David.

  Harlan stared at the girl in awe. It was the first time he’d seen the mysterious flying child who Penny had not stopped talking about. She walked up and studied the burns to his eye. He held his breath as she reached out a hand and placed it over his thumping heart. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Hugo is very happy,” she said.

  And for the first time in his life, Harlan Merriman unleashed his emotions and cried. And as the tears rolled out of his damaged eye, so it healed and he could see clearly once more.

  “I thought you had to go?” David said to Angel.

  “I did,” she said brightly. “But I came back again, because we’re almost here.”

  “Here?” said Harlan, looking for a landmark. “Where are we heading?”

  Angel pointed to a light in the distance. David stood up and went to the rail. Farther along the deck, several animals had come out of their compartments to stare across the water just as David was doing now.

  “Do you recognize anywhere?” Harlan asked him.

  David chewed his lip. “If ever we’re separated, I want you to pass on a message for me, Dad. When people talk about this flood, they will say that it’s come to destroy us. It hasn’t. It’s here to make us think abou
t a better way of life. One in which we can still imagineer, but where our ability to do so is balanced by our willingness to care for the creatures on this ark. This is the new directive from the Higher. Wherever these animals choose to land, wherever they migrate to, wherever they settle, the humans will respect them and their habitats, or lose their power to create form from thought. And it all begins here — in what used to be called the Dead Lands.”

  Harlan got to his feet and squinted at the light. “Is that —? No, it can’t be. It surely must have gone out by now.”

  David put an arm around Angel’s shoulder. “There may be dark days ahead of us. More conflict with the Ix. Maybe a twist or two with the Aunts. But the only thing that matters for now is that beacon. This is the legacy your tribe left behind. Welcome back to Alavon, Dad, where the fire of Agawin will never die out….”

  5.

  By morning, the ark had drifted alongside the southern edge of Alavon and found waters deep enough in which to anchor. In keeping with its program of self-sufficiency, a sturdy wooden drawbridge swung out from the central section of the hull and dropped down to make firm contact with the land. The great whump! brought scores of animals to the windows and all the humans, bar Rosa, to the decks. David, giving orders to monitor the animals but not impede them in any way, hurried down to check it out. He arrived at the opening to find Rosa on the drawbridge sitting astride Terrafonne. A little posse of animals had already stacked up in the hold behind her. “What’s this place?” she asked.

  “The Isle of Alavon.”

  “Isn’t that where …?”

  “Dad was taken to, yes. See the beacon?”

  “It’s kind of hard not to.” Even in daylight the flames were inspiring.

  “Strange to think Agawin lived there once.”

  Rosa gulped and steadied Terrafonne’s head. The unicorn, his hooves clip-clopping on the bridge, seemed anxious to explore the land. She looked back over her shoulder at the hold. “The animals are restless. Are they allowed off to exercise?”

 

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