By the Feet of Men

by Grant Price

  Hearst appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Nobody here. Found this.’

  She slung a wad of bound paper over to them. The pages showed fire damage, but the flames had died before they could finish the job. He picked them up and leafed through them, but the text was in a language he didn’t recognise.

  ‘Get anything from this?’ he asked, tossing it to Ghazi. Quick fingers flicked the pages over. He shook his head. ‘I bet Wyler could have.’ He was about to drop it when he paused. ‘Wait.’ He tore one of the pages free. ‘Need more light.’

  Outside, he shielded the page from the snow and they crowded around. It was a map. Next to black lines that snaked over the landscape were a series of arrows and numbers etched in pencil.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ said Cassady, closing his eyes in silent prayer. Ghazi smiled. Even Hearst looked less sour.

  ‘I think this is our road,’ said Ghazi. Cassady took out Lupo’s crude map and held it next to the piece of paper. ‘Yes. So this block here must be the camp.’

  ‘Seems like they were excited about this part,’ Cassady said, pointing at a brown area further along the track that had been circled and annotated with numbers.

  ‘Ambush,’ grunted Hearst.

  He squinted at the page. ‘That’s what I’d assume, too. They’re waiting for us there.’

  ‘Why not here?’ asked Ghazi.

  He bit his bottom lip as he sought a likely answer. ‘They can’t know how many we are. The only information they have is that we smashed the Zuisudra camp and we took out their vanguard. They’re taking no chances. They need the medicine so they can use it as a bargaining chip. They don’t want to blow up the rigs. And they don’t want us wheeling ourselves into the void if they can help it.’ The meaning of his own words hit him in the chest. Knowing the enemy was waiting for them was worse than driving blind. He hid his shaking fingers behind his back.

  ‘Go off-road,’ said Hearst.

  ‘How?’ asked Ghazi. ‘That’s almost a sheer drop.’

  She gritted a set of discoloured teeth. ‘I’d make it.’

  ‘Maybe. But we wouldn’t.’

  Cassady glanced at the fire-damaged map Ghazi was holding once more. ‘Hang on.’ With a supreme effort, he managed to keep his hand still and pointed at one of the squares on the map. ‘Look. What about this?’

  A thin line the width of a hair rested against the page. It emerged from their trail and curved away towards the south, bypassing the ambush point further along the route.

  ‘Could be a pipeline,’ said Ghazi. ‘Electrical wiring. Anything.’ Cassady studied the page. He willed it not to be a pipeline. ‘We’ll check it out anyway. We’ve got nothing to lose. Hearst and I will finish looking over the camp. You go and leave a marker on the road for Victor and Tagawa.’

  ‘What about the batteries? We could charge them here.’

  ‘No.’ He pointed at the line on the map. ‘First this. Then the batteries.’

  The remainder of the search turned up nothing useful. They embarked once more and the two trucks resumed their crawl. Cassady kept his eyes glued to the cliff edge while Ghazi drove.

  ‘You can see it’s much too steep,’ said Ghazi. He frowned and nudged the wheel. ‘It’s a pipeline.’

  Cassady shot him a look. ‘Didn’t you tell me earlier about things being a matter of belief?’

  A long pause. ‘Right.’

  The snow stopped, but the chill wind continued to buffet the vehicle. As they drove, the sheer drop flattened out and a thick forest swarmed over the slope. Excitement, fear and belief bloomed in Cassady’s chest. The juice bar entered the red. They had minutes left before the Old Lady stopped dead.

  ‘There,’ he shouted, slapping the top of the dash. ‘Stop.’ Ghazi dug in and flashed the lights.

  ‘Back up.’ The engine wheezed. ‘There. See it?’

  Both men stared at a lush wall of forest. Snow dripped from the trees.

  ‘Where?’

  He pointed, then rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. ‘Don’t you see it?’

  Ghazi followed the line of his finger until his gaze rested on a crease in the ground.

  ‘That’s the trail?’

  ‘Yes.’ He was sure of it. It cut away from the edge of the road at a 45-degree angle.

  ‘But it doesn’t lead anywhere. Look. It’s all forest.’

  ‘Wait here.’ He unbuckled his harness and left the cab for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The light was failing now. He crunched over the snow to the edge of the road and lowered himself over the side. On hands and feet, he half-crawled, half-slipped to the tree line. He paused, caught his breath and peered at the foliage. There. His fatigue receded and he laughed from deep within himself. They weren’t done yet. Taking care not to scratch his hands, he pushed the brambles and leaves aside to reveal a wooden screen. First the wall and now this. Smoke and mirrors, just like Wyler had said. Beyond the screen was the start of a dirt path, evidently intended for quad bikes.

  As he kicked the foliage aside, he spotted something threading its way through the planks further down. He crouched down and gently took a piece of wire between his thumb and forefinger. He followed it beyond the screen to the hollow of a nearby tree. Inside was a black box similar to the one Wyler had uncovered at the wall.

  He scrambled back up the incline and brushed the snow from his clothes. Ghazi had already set up the turbine for the battery.

  ‘Find anything?’

  ‘They don’t have many tricks.’ He didn’t try to disguise his excitement. ‘There’s a path between the trees. It’s blocked by some kind of wooden gate that we can shift. It’s tripwired, but I can deactivate it. We’re going over, Ghazi.’

  ‘It’s a steep rise. She might roll.’

  ‘Better that than the alternative. We’ll charge the batteries, move the gate and clear whatever else is in the way.’ He slapped his partner on the arm. ‘We still have a chance.’

  Ghazi didn’t break his composure. ‘We’d better work quickly.’

  ‘Okay. Me and you. I’ll tell Hearst to rest.’

  They hooked up the batteries before piling rocks into two cairns in the middle of the path and tying a piece of tarp to a tree next to the concealed path. If Victor and Tagawa managed to get the Silkworm running again, they would know which way to go. Cassady spent a nervous minute deactivating the box by the tree, and then they set to work on the screen. They used small axes to hack away at the brambles.

  ‘How long before they realise?’ grunted Ghazi as he brought his axe down.

  ‘We’ll be off this damned mountain before they decide to come and take a look.’ Cassady chopped a thorny, arching shoot in half and knocked it clear. ‘There. That should do it.’ Straining, they lifted the wood and dumped it by the trees. Both men were a little shaken by how much energy it cost them, but it didn’t matter. The path into the forest was clear.

  Back on the road, they sipped at the mountain water and shared their last two pemmican cakes with Hearst. Turbines spun silently on the roofs of the two pantechs and the battery meters shone yellow.

  ‘This cold might be able to kill you, but at least there aren’t any flies up here,’ said Cassady through a mouthful of lean meat. ‘I don’t miss them.’

  ‘I just wish we were here under different circumstances,’ said Ghazi. He leaned against Warspite, a blanket over his shoulders, and regarded the forest. ‘Look at this place. Green life spilling out in every direction, unchecked and unspoiled and beautiful. I almost can’t believe this is how it once was.’

  Hearst shook her head. ‘Alone, tired, cold, surrounded. Still you see beauty.’ She handed him the canteen of water. ‘You are crazy.’

  Cassady laughed.

  ‘If we make it,’ Ghazi said, and hesitated. Since they’d left the Gaean camp, none of the Runners had said a word about getting home. He cleared his throat and continued. ‘If we make it and we come back this way, I’m claiming a piece of this land
. I don’t know how, but I’m going to do it.’

  Cassady closed his eyes and his elation at finding the hidden trail faded. A spasm passed through the muscles in the backs of his legs. In a few short hours he would have to force himself back into that cramped cockpit and it would all begin again.

  ‘Or maybe we’ll be buried here,’ he said, eyes still shut. ‘And you’ll be part of it.’

  4

  The trees stood in loose ranks with branches bowed as the two vehicles passed by. The path was well hidden under a layer of dead leaves and wood. During the night, the snow had mostly melted and now only a few streaks of white survived. The depleted convoy advanced slowly, Warspite in the lead with the roof-mounted lamps dialled up to full beam. The canopy overhead protected them from eyes in the sky. The whine of the engines and the murmuring transmissions sounded deafening in the heart of the forest, and the Runners drove with their fingers crossed that there were no Koalition soldiers waiting in the shadows.

  Ghazi gritted his teeth and held the wheel at ten-and-two. The suspension was taking a battering despite his best efforts. The trail clearly wasn’t intended for anything more than quads and exos, and more than a few times the Old Lady had groaned with discomfort. If they broke down now, he didn’t know what they would do. Maybe this had been the Koalition’s plan all along. Plant the map, sit back, wait for the last two trucks to shake themselves to a standstill, and then swoop in, finish off the crews and seize the medicine. He gripped the wheel tighter and did his best to clear his mind. They were still alive and they were still moving forward, and that was enough. Nothing else they could do.

  ‘Watch out,’ shouted Cassady.

  He slammed on the brakes. Blocking their path was a rotting trunk with an ugly fissure running down its centre.

  ‘Lightning strike,’ said Ghazi.

  ‘Let’s get the saws.’

  They had been working for a few minutes when a thick voice called to them.

  ‘Need help?’ Hearst’s silhouette was a broken mannequin in the glare of the headlights.

  Cassady took his cap off and wiped his forehead. ‘Get your head down for a few minutes.’ She trudged back up the hill without another word.

  Ghazi eyed her back. ‘How much longer can she keep it up?’

  Cassady didn’t answer. As they worked, the flimsy handles of the saws became hot against their palms and blistered their skin. Beads of sweat left dirty streaks and settled in their matted beards. When Ghazi next paused to draw breath, Cassady was moving the saw back and forth at a slower pace.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why are you cutting like that?’

  He stopped, the blade deep in the wood, and spat on the ground. ‘To give her more time to recover, goddamn it. That’s why.’

  ‘An extra ten minutes isn’t going to help her.’

  ‘It might.’

  ‘You’re kidding yourself, Cass.’

  ‘You’re being heartless.’

  ‘I’m being pragmatic. She’s made it this far because of her. Not me, not you. She doesn’t need any favours from us. The sooner we get this thing out of the way, the sooner we can get out of this place.’

  With reluctance, Cassady grabbed the saw and resumed his work. He didn’t slow down again until the log had been cut all the way through.

  The forest was everywhere, crowding the two men, ready to swallow them without trace as soon as they let their guard down. Dawn was on the way, but the dark tree tops hid all but a few patches of cloud-heavy sky. Ghazi tapped on Orion’s window to wake Hearst and her dull black eyes flickered open immediately. He pointed down the hill. She yawned once and nodded.

  Back behind the wheel, he guided Warspite with care towards the trunk and the bumper nudged the pieces aside without any difficulties. They bounced over a clump of branches and then they were through.

  ‘Easier than the last one at least,’ he murmured, recalling the winches in the rain. Somewhere behind them, Victor and Tagawa followed the markers they had left. Or they had been captured or were dead.

  Cassady opened a drawstring pouch, took a pinch of the contents, and offered it to him.

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Like a dog.’

  While they had been waiting for the batteries to charge at the top of the slope, they had gone foraging for edible plants in the forest and found a few. He stuffed a handful of leaves into his mouth. Chickweed, fleawort, goosefoot and dandelion. It was a bitter mixture, but it was better than nothing. Cassady pressed the canteen into his hand. The water soothed the cramps in his stomach and calmed his mind. He didn’t think he would ever tire of its clean taste. He had no desire to go back to dust and chlorine once this was over. Maybe he could come back, like he’d said to Cassady. Find a spot to hole away in, here in this valley of Eden. If he was smart, he could avoid the Koalition. And if he was smarter still, he could do something to subvert their control. Both Sergei and Wyler had talked about civil unrest in this land, though they hadn’t seen any signs of it. It was a wild idea, but if he and Cassady could somehow contact the leaders and their intentions were good, they might be able to help. He shook his head. So many ifs. They had to get out first before thinking about getting back in.

  As he went to drop the canteen in the space between the seats, Cassady bent over and coughed violently. His eyes bulged. Ghazi slapped him on the back, thinking a leaf had become stuck in his throat, but he twisted away and continued to choke. He retched. The cough lost its intensity, and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and became quiet again.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he gasped. ‘Third time it’s happened.’ He swigged some water.

  ‘You should rest up. You’re pushing yourself too hard. I can handle her for now. I’ll wake you as soon as anything changes.’

  ‘That isn’t fair.’

  ‘Just do it. You won’t be much use if you get sick.’

  The exhausted Runner leaned his head against the window. Moments later, his snores filled the cab. Ghazi was alone with his thoughts. That cough hadn’t sounded good. They’d been pushing themselves to the limit for so many months. Lousy food, little sleep, stress, days and days hunched over in poses that made their tendons tight and their muscles atrophy. Now, with this run, their bodies were finally rebelling. He glanced in the side mirror. None of that seemed to apply to Hearst. She was keeping up just fine.

  As the trees became sparser and the incline started to level out, Ghazi killed the row of lights along the top of the truck. Behind him, Hearst did the same. The world was anaemic. There was no snow now. He yawned and scratched the unfamiliar hairs on top of his head and tried to stay focused. Cassady snored into his chest. Ghazi rolled his neck and shook out his arms. Pain lanced through his stomach. The leaves had staved off his hunger for thirty minutes, but no more than that. Next time they stopped, he would crack open one of their last 24-hour packs. No need to save them. Not when they were surrounded by death.

  Ashen sky filled the windshield. They had reached the end of the forest. There were no quads, exos, tanks or soldiers in sight. The trail shot out into open country, clearly marked now, cutting through undulating fields of thriving grass and metamorphic rock and thorny plants. Great white clouds piled overhead. It was a beautiful land and Ghazi took it all in. Then he saw it. In the distance. His foot slapped against the brake. His body jerked forward and the harness bit into his shoulders.

  ‘What is it?’ cried Cassady, the jolt forcing him awake.

  His mouth opened and closed and it took him a second to find his voice. When he did, the words emerged in a whisper. ‘A white city.’

  5

  Hearst, Cassady and Ghazi stood together on the trail and looked on in silence. An urban mirage glittered between the converging sides of two mountains. Massive white towers stood side by side, curved sculptures moulded by giant hands. Around the periphery, smaller buildings huddled together like children seeking
the protection of their parents. Masses of greenery sat on roofs, climbed the facades, emerged from openings up and down the towers. Mutant trees grew as high as the smaller buildings, leaves like vital splashes of paint against the gleaming ivory facades. A network of walkways connected the structures, each one large enough for two pantechs to drive on side by side. Flying machines sat on sleek landing pads. And lassoing it all was an orbital six-lane road on stilts whose branches disappeared to the north, south, east and west. On the slopes surrounding the city, huge wind turbines stood in rows as precise as a military graveyard, and their vanes warped the air as they spun.

  But there was something else. The city was on fire. One of the tallest towers belched velvet plumes of smoke that rippled over the city. Vehicles large and small buzzed across the walkways and chased each other along the orbital road. Two four-wheeled automobiles spun out of control and crashed into a barrier, and a puff of orange rose above the road. The unmistakable clackclack of automatic gunfire ricocheted between the buildings. A massive explosion sent a thunderclap through the walls of the valley, and its vibrations carried all the way to the edge of the forest. Other sounds drifted across to Warspite and Orion, too. Cheering, perhaps. Or screaming. As the Runners watched, minute human shapes spilled out onto roofs and platforms. From one balcony, a brilliant red flag was unfurled, and it gushed down the side of the smooth tower and stopped just short of the tops of the mutant trees. A symbol reprinted all the way down the flag was visible for kilometres around: four black lines with a defiant fifth slashing through the others.

  Cassady stood with his hands on his hips, not believing his eyes. It was too fantastic. Beside him, Ghazi uttered a warning.

  ‘Look. Drones.’

  Cassady brought the binoculars up. Cylindrical black shapes with massive wings cast v-shaped shadows on the mountainsides. When they passed over the city, jets of white gas spurted out from under the wings and drifted down onto the rooftops. The people ran back inside. The drones made a U-turn and headed east. A man dressed in red appeared on one of the landing platforms and aimed a weapon at the retreating machines. A projectile slammed into one of the cylindrical shapes and sent it spinning into the valley.