Over the next few days Akim Jart and Vetch seemed to become firm friends. Brol watched them joking over the camp-fire with some satisfaction. It pleased him to see Akim Jart become one of the group and be accepted by the others. It boded well for any testing times the little band might have to go through.
Over the same few days Brol managed to draw some more information from the Theodora Fane, but he got the feeling she was not being completely candid. She was evasive when questioned about where she had come from, what her mission was, and what the National Recovery Agency was. Watching him from the corner of his eye as they sat around the camp fire of an evening he several times observed her deep in thought and withdrawn from the group around her, and sometimes absently searching her pack as if for something that should be there but was not. Brol was not altogether honest with her either, and his apparently naïve questions disguised how much he knew. He had heard of underground buildings dating from Ancient times, buildings in which groups of soldiers or scholars had been somehow kept asleep for all that time and woken to carry out some mission. He had also heard that most of these places were now either empty, the inhabitants having left on their missions and taken with them the Ancient artefacts the places were filled with, or were tombs, the life-support systems having failed or having been broken into by treasure-hunters and the sleeping occupants slaughtered. The fact that Fane was alive and did not seem to think she was the last of her group gave Brol food for thought. The others in the group seemed to be remarkably uninterested in Fane and to have unquestioningly accepted her into the group; however her possible status as one of the Ancients, or a close descendent of theirs, gave Brol a few sleepless nights.
Theodora did appear to have a dread of the creatures who had attacked the vehicle she was in and overwhelmed the armed crew. By her description they were clearly Wretched. Her complete lack of knowledge of the infection, which gradually stripped its victims of their intelligence and humanity as their living body decayed, bore out Brol’s suspicion that Fane did not have much experience of the world. Brol and the others exchanged glances as she spoke, tacitly agreeing not to tell her of the Wretched’s appetite for flesh. Her description of the attackers, recounted with a horror she could not disguise, also alarmed the rest of the group. The band that had scattered Fane’s party were clearly in the early stage of the disease, able to plan, co-operate, and use advanced weapons. Her account set off a round of reminiscences round the camp-fire, with each of the band – apart from Sutek, who sometimes listened but more often was occupied with some peculiar activity of his own – attempting to trump the others with tales of creatures they had seen or heard of. Vetch described seeing at a distance a large and ferocious armoured predator he called a horrendosaurus. Brol recounted passing through a village in the ruins of an Ancient city which was run by the white-robed followers of the cult of Saint Death and being chased by the inhabitants, who appeared to have a grudge against mutants. Thok with a convincing mime conjured up the terrifying artificial creatures like silver skeletons which he had had described to him by a traveller. Akim Jart swore that the most frightening opponent he had ever encountered was a pack of wild dogs – numerous, fast moving, intelligent – which he had only evaded by jumping off a cliff into a river.
Fane’s story seemed to suggest that a well-equipped and well-led group of Wretched was in the area. This set Brol thinking, and from that night he increased the number awake at time from one to two and insisted in camping in defensible positions. This at first caused fierce arguments with Sutek the Seer, who wanted the group to camp on sites he saw as suitable for reasons which had nothing to do with defensibility or the availability of fresh water. On the two nights after the stop in the massive ruined building Brol had found a site he considered easy to defend and Sutek had pointedly continued up the road after the others stopped. He had later come marching back as if nothing had happened. Vetch remarked to Akim Jart that Sutek’s mask had showed no sign of blushing. After those two nights Sutek had taken to stopping when the others did.
After a week or so of progress Sutek announced in a matter-of-fact manner one evening that the place he sought was not far away, and that trouble was also close. A ripple of alarm spread through the group, apart from Thok whose demeanour seldom changed. They were on a stretch of flat land no different from any other that they had crossed on their journey. The Badlands, desert dotted with hardy bushes, stretched in all directions. With only slight changes in elevation as dry stream-beds cut through it and low hills rose gently from it. The road ran on endlessly north to south as far as the eye could see. Its surface was on the whole sound, a rough rock-hard black material eroding into black chips at the edges. Where the twisted framework of an Ancient vehicle stood the surface was often smooth, as if melted. At intervals metal poles stood at one edge or another, bare or broken off short. Here and there another road would branch off at right angles and head straight for the horizon. On two occasions Sutek had led them off the road on a day-long detour, and as they skirted the area he wished to avoid they could see an area of desert pitted with craters and containing the skeletons of Ancient buildings, blackened and contorted by heat. Akim Jart showed a good deal of skill at finding water and Sutek, waving his staff over the water-holes, declared them to be free from taint. The holes were generally identifiable by the larger amount of vegetation growing round them, and roughly followed the line of the road.
Vetch speculated that they were appearances on the surface of an underground stream, and a heated debate around the camp-fire followed on whether such things could exist. Brol, after listening quietly, put in that he had seen springs and fountains near Ancient ruins, and added that he thought that the water-holes were caused by leaks in underground channels that had carried water to the towns in Ancient times. Fane said nothing during the discussion, listening with a half-smile. The explanation of a wonder as the work of the Ancients seemed to satisfy everyone, the works of the Ancients being inexplicable and marvellous enough to explain anything.
One evening Sutek declared abruptly that they would reach their destination the following day. As if on cue a sand-storm blew up and the group were obliged to burrow into the lee of the road, covering themselves with their tents and cloaks against the choking sand. The storm made the evening dark as midnight and lasted half of the night. At one point during the storm there was a loud bellowing and honking, and when the storm blew over the pack-beast and its handler were gone. In the morning no tracks could be seen in the fresh-blown sand and the roadway had been sufficiently cleared of drifts by the storm’s tail-wind to make it easy to follow. There was no sign in any direction of the beast or its groom. A bad-tempered search of the area produced not a clue to the fate of beast or handler, and the rest of the morning was spent dividing out amongst the group the items which the beast would have carried. Vetch and Thok were particularly irritated as the beast had carried the battered metal plates that served them as armour and they would now have to carry or wear these. Sutek simply removed from the pile allotted to him anything he did not wish to carry, resulting in his having a much smaller load than everyone else, but as Theodora Fane insisted that she should carry a share the protests at Sutek’s actions were muted.
As they prepared to shoulder their suddenly much larger packs Sutek froze, bent over to collect a pouch. He slowly straightened and said “A shadow. Shadows. Half-alive. Not far away. We must make haste.” Now thoroughly alarmed the others packed up quickly. Despite Akim Jart’s increasingly angry questions Sutek would say no more and instead set of up the road. The rest straggled along behind, tottering under the weight of the supplies. About mid-day they threw down their packs and gratefully slumped down. Sutek stood quivering, looking up the road, then prodded Akim Jart with his staff and indicated that he should scout ahead. He obeyed, and the rest waited uneasily. Within moments Akim Jart was back, urging them to prepare. A group of people was travelling towards them down the road. While the rest began to move the pile of packs off the road, Akim Jart moved back to have another look at the group, which appeared to be moving down the road towards them. By the time all the packs had been moved Akim Jart had returned. He pointed back down the road and said urgently in his deep, hoarse voice, “They are Wretched. About a dozen of them. They have not noticed us yet, I believe, but we don’t have long.”
Brol resumed the role of leader and thought quickly. Should they hide and hope the creatures would not see them? There would not be time to get far off the road, and apart from a few clumps of bushes and outcrops of rock there was little cover. On the other hand perhaps they could ambush the Wretched. He glanced briefly at Sutek for guidance, but he appeared not to be interested and was looking about vaguely. Brol snapped his long fingers and in a few words outlined the plan. “We’ll try to get the drop on them. We should have the advantage if we take them by surprise. What do we have by way of long-range weapons?”
Akim Jart held out his pistol and turned it this way and that. He unslung from his back his huge mechanical pincer, slotted in a power cell, and strapped it tightly over his arm. A series of hissing and grating sounds began as he tested its movements. Fane drew from her belt a sophisticated-looking pistol. “I’m a fair shot with this. I could get one or two.” Brol gave her a brief nod. Thok and Vetch unslung from their backs their long metal-hafted weapons, Thok’s an axe, Vetch’s a heavy wrench, and unrolled the cloth which contained their bits and pieces of battered armour. Vetch also took out a small flask and a rag and began to smear a greenish paste onto the edges of his wrench.
Brol raised his voice slightly to get the group’s attention over the clatter of metal and buzz of small talk. “Is anyone immune? No? Right. So try not to get too close. You four” – he indicated Vetch, Thok, Akim Jart and Fane – “lie low and try to get a shot in before they spot you. Don’t shoot until I say. Sutek – stay with me. We will stay back in reserve.”
The group exchanged nods and moved off. Fane slipped away to one side and disappeared behind a clump of bushes, moving wide to get a clear shot at the Wretched. Vetch, Thok and Akim Jart crashed into a patch of undergrowth in the direction of the Wretched and, as Brol assumed from the decrease in noise, found an ambush position. Brol himself crept forward, with Sutek sauntering behind, until he could see the Wretched and the place where he thought the others were. He laid his weapon down in the gritty sand, and knelt down beside it. Sutek carefully sat down beside him. Brol strained his eyes to get a look at the approaching band. From their staggering, lurching gait they were clearly Wretched, in perhaps the mid-stage of the disease; far enough advanced for it to have affected their coordination and intelligence, but not so far advanced as to have begun to show many signs of atrophy or decay at the extremities of their bodies. They numbered about a dozen, and three or four carried firearms, others clubs, some no weapons at all. One larger specimen, carrying a long metal pole and walking with a more assured stride, appeared to be the leader. The others followed in fairly good order, with no sign of the wandering off distractedly that Brol had seen in other, more diseased, bands. As they came closer he could see the pallid skin colour, open sores and unhealed wounds typical of the Wretched, and thought he could taste in the air the taint of the disease they carried (although he had ceased to mention this to anyone as it seemed no-one else could taste it). Most of the Wretched had torn off much of their clothing as their kind often seemed to as the disease advanced; Brol surmised that the disease caused their skin to be irritable and sore, and as their intelligence waned the only solution they could find was to remove the chafing clothing. He hoped that this was one of those groups held together by the forceful personality of its leader and the promise of the fresh meat he would lead them to, and hoped that the leader might stray close enough for one of the others to shoot him and so throw the band of Wretched into confusion.
Brol watched the group as they came closer, showing no sign of having noticed any of his people. Maybe they would pass by with no need for a fight. Then one stopped still, raised his head, and seemed to sniff the air. Others noticed his actions, stopped, and began to sniff and look around. The apparent leader noted that he was not being followed; he stopped, turned, and standing up straight swung his head about with his tongue out as if testing the air. Brol hesitated, ready to give the signal.
All at once from over to his right he saw Fane stand up from patch of bushes, her face in an expression of disgust, and fire her pistol. There was a flicker of light and one of the Wretched fell. From in front of him Brol heard a cheer from Akim Jart, and a group of Wretched began to stumble towards Jart’s position. Theodora fired again and again, and another of the Wretched went down, and then Brol saw her start running towards him. He looked across to see what the leader of the enemy band was doing, and saw him attempting to herd together those Wretched who carried guns. When he looked back the first group were nearly at the position that Akim Jart and Vetch occupied, with Thok being a little way apart from them. As the Wretched came close Akim Jart, with a loud shout, leapt from his position in cover and fired at the group. One fell, but the others closed with Jart and Vetch. Akim Jart bellowed and swung his mechanical pincer, throwing a couple of the Wretched to the ground. Vetch stepped forward and crushed the skull of one of the fallen creatures with his wrench, and the others fell back in alarm. Jart sank to his knees, and as Brol moved forward to see what was happening he noticed that he was vomiting and sweating profusely. With an effort Akim Jart rose to his feet, just as the group of Wretched prepared to attack again, and rushed forward. Jart collided with the group of Wretched, killing one with his pincer and knocking another down; again Vetch finished off the downed creature. As Vetch and Jart regained their breath Brol saw the leader urging the gun-armed Wretched to fire, and also noticed a single Wretched emerge from cover and run at Akim Jart. Sutek had stood up at Brol’s side, and Brol saw him raise his staff and stare fixedly at the Wretched; the creature staggered and fell. Akim Jart only now noticed him and looked about in confusion. Not far away the Wretched leader was gesturing at Akim Jart and Vetch. With a shaking hand Jart raised his pistol and shot him. The remaining Wretched scattered. Brol now waved the others forward and headed for where Akim Jart and Vetch stood in the open. Fane had now joined Brol and angrily showed him her gun, now exhausted of charge. Thok plodded stolidly forward, and Sutek ambled at Brol’s side. Before anyone could reach Jart and Vetch’s position the Wretched, their hunger overcoming their fear, finally opened fire. Jart was hit and helped by Vetch staggered into cover. As the others watched helplessly the Wretched poured fire into the bushes where the two were hiding and one, armed with a long club, rushed at them. Brol could see Vetch standing over Jart, defending him against the Wretched; a moment later he saw Sutek raise his staff and the Wretched stumble and fall, to be decapitated by Vetch. Akim Jart again rose to his feet and he and Vetch charged out of the bushes into the four Wretched who had been shooting at them. Jart felled one with his pincer, another staggered from the fight and fell heavily – Sutek’s work, Brol assumed – but the remaining two knocked Jart down. Akim Jart, now visibly at the end of his strength, tried to rise but failed. Vetch fended off the two attackers, and when one of them suddenly toppled over backwards Jart was able to stagger up as Vetch finished the last of the Wretched.
The fighting was over. Sutek, Brol and Theodora ran to Jart. Vetch waved them back, and Jart, leaning unsteadily on his mechanical pincer, called across to them. “I’m infected. One of them got me. Stay back.” He coughed and spat a gobbet of dark mucus.
Vetch looked himself over and announced, “Looks like I’m immune – I’ve touched a few and I’m covered in blood but I feel fine.” Fane looked alarmed and said “You might be a carrier, though. Wait there!”
Brol, edgy and angry, shouted at Sutek. “You might have said you could do that!”
Sutek looked across at Brol with his blank metal mask. Brol continued. “That telepathic attack or whatever it was.”
Sutek replied mildly, “Must I tell you all that I can do? I can read, I can tie good knots, I can . . .”
Brol dropped his weapon with a clang and turned away from Sutek. “What do we do about him? He’ll get weaker and will probably die, and he might infect us.”
Fane spoke. “We can’t leave him. Anyway, he won’t walk any slower than Thok here.”
Thok looked over placidly, hoses swaying.
Sutek reached over his own shoulder and fiddled with the tanks on his back so that a hissing sound issued from his mask then marched a little unsteadily a few paces towards Jart and Vetch, raising his staff towards first one then the other. “This one” – he indicated Jart – “is burning with their disease. The other is not. He may well be immune.”
As it began to get dark the group made their way back to where they had discarded their packs. They lit a fire and made a melancholy meal, with Akim Jart lying a good distance apart tended by Vetch. After some angry discussion they agreed to assume that Vetch was not carrying the plague and to allow him to shuttle between the groups to fetch food for Jart. Vetch ate and drank sparingly and slept fitfully. During the night Jart raved and thrashed such that Vetch considered tying him up, and in the morning he was pale, burning hot, and ravenously hungry. There was little food to spare, and over breakfast the group discussed their course of action. Jart shouted that he would go off on his own, track the few Wretched who escaped the fight, and kill them before he died. Vetch dubiously said he would go with him. Brol remembered hearing of healers who could cure the plague, but thought it might be only a story and anyway had no idea where they might be found. Sutek said he could do nothing and that Jart would inevitably die. Fane was still very wary of Vetch, sitting as far from him as she politely could. Thok looked around calmly and contributed nothing. Together they managed to persuade Jart to remain with the group, but with difficulty and to the obvious relief of Vetch. They set off up the road once again, with Jart and Vetch trailing behind to maintain some separation and because Jart was clearly weakening. Looking back Brol on several occasions saw Jart pause for breath and wipe trickles of blood from ears and nose. At night they once again camped separately with Vetch acting as go-between. Brol observed Jart angrily expostulating with Vetch as they ate and Vetch meekly handing his share over to Jart who shovelled it into his large mouth with his bare hands. The atmosphere round the fire was gloomy, but alleviated when Sutek declared that next day they would reach their destination.
The Seer proved to be right when soon into their day’s march a range of hills began to be visible through the heat haze and appeared to fill the horizon ahead of them. By noon they were close at hand, and the road turned sharply left to avoid them. Sutek indicated a path which led straight up the hills from the road and the group climbed the rocky scrub-dotted hills. By dusk they had reached the top and saw below them the ruins of a great city filling the valley. The setting sun glinted off the circular lakes which dotted the ruins and the river which connected the lakes. Threads of smoke rose from several points in the ruins. Coming up to the crest of the ridge Akim Jart fell to the ground and lay still. Vetch, a few paces behind, pointed down the slope. “Someone is coming. They seem to be heading for us, or down there maybe.” Looking back Brol saw bright lights moving down the road, and from their configuration assumed they belonged to a vehicle of some sort. Brol looked at Sutek, whose mask looked back, and then sighed.
“Remember at the bottom of the slope, where the road turned? The road went over that stream where the bridge had collapsed? Their vehicle would not be able to cross that, and they would have to dismount. We could see who they are, and if need be ambush them. What do you think?”
Akim Jart raised himself onto one elbow with a great effort. A thread of bloody drool ran unheeded from the corner of his mouth, and his three beady eyes travelled from one of the group to the next. His face bore a strange expression. Brol felt significance in the air. Was the expression resignation? Vetch extended his arm to assist Akim Jart to his feet, and as he rose slowly to his feet Thok set off down the hill at his usual slow steady pace. Fane looked from Brol to Sutek to Akim Jart, shrugged, and followed Thok. Jart and Vetch, talking quietly, moved off. Brol felt a surge of pride and set off down the path, picking his way carefully in the gloom. Behind him Sutek the Seer strolled down the path, the last of the sun making his steel mask glow orange.
All the way down the hill they kept a close eye on the lights approaching along the road. Brol was concerned that the vehicle would reach the collapsed culvert before the group would. He estimated it was a couple of hours before dawn by the time he and Fane arrived there. The rest straggled behind – first Thok plodding inexorably along, then Sutek, and last Akim Jart supported by Vetch. In the distance Brol could see the vehicle’s headlights. By the time the rest had straggled down to where Brol was the vehicle was quite close. The group spread themselves out in cover a short way from where the road would have crossed the now dry river bed had the bridge still been there. Two white pillars stood in the middle of the bed, but otherwise there was no sign of the bridge at all and the black roadway ended raggedly at the edge of the gully. As the vehicle approached the band readied their weapons. It pulled up at well short of the broken road and sat for a moment, its motor emitting a low whine. The group squinted against its lights to see what the vehicle was. As far as Brol could see it was a large white square-looking machine with four huge wheels. A door opened and figures in white suits emerged. Dazzled by the glare of the suits in the lights Brol watched closely, and thought he could see some sort of triangular emblem painted above the vehicle’s narrow front window. Without warning Theodora Fane stood up and stepped into the open. She shouted to the figures, giving her name and rank in much the same way as she had introduced herself to the band. The figures reacted quickly, crouching and pointing weapons at her.
“What are you doing? Get down!” hissed Brol.
The suited figures showed some confusion, edging together and obviously communicating with one another. One moved apart from the others, coming closer to the lip of the gully, and Fane stepped towards it, calling out. A flash of light illuminated the gully for less than the blink of an eye, and Fane fell to the ground. She scrambled backwards into the slight dip in which Brol was lying, cursing under her breath. She banged the ground with her fist, started to rise, lay down again, cursed again. Brol looked left and right to where the others lay hidden and could see no sign that anyone was injured. He slipped further down in the hollow to be further out of sight. The white figures on the other side of the gully moved about and after apparent discussion clambered back into the vehicle. After a short time it reversed, turned laboriously, and moved away back down the road. Brol lay quietly for a moment then crawled to where Fane lay. She clearly been crying, and only shook her head when asked if she was hurt. He crawled further along the line, meeting first Thok, lying watching the road, then Sutek, who seemed to be asleep. Returning past Fane he came to Vetch and Akim Jart. Stopping a safe distance from Vetch Brol called softly to him. Vetch called back. “It is safe to come over. He is away.” Brol edged closer to see Akim Jart lying flat on his back, Vetch having rolled him over to examine him. Vetch continued matter-of-factly, “He must have gone while we were waiting. Never made a sound.” Brol felt shock, and reached over his long over-jointed arm to touch Vetch’s hand.
The sun began to rise and lit cast deep shadows across the place where they lay. There was no sign of the vehicle, and Brol stood up. “They’ve gone. And Akim Jart is dead.” The others gathered around Brol, and looked across at Jart. Sutek picked up a stick and stepped towards the body as if to prod it. Vetch kicked the stick and Sutek dropped it. “What do we do with him?” asked Brol. The others looked at each other.
“Roll the body and his gear into the gully. It is no use to us,” said Sutek.
“Bury him. That is what I would like done with me,” said Vetch. The others nodded, and so they dug a shallow grave and Vetch put the body in it. Vetch threw Akim Jart’s weapons and equipment into the gully in case they were infectious. Vetch and Brol each muttered over the grave, and Thok poured some water and sprinkled crumbs of food onto the mound. As each finished his actions he turned to start the climb up the hill again, following Sutek who had already started.
Theodora Fane watched from a distance as if studying the others as they paid their respects to Akim Jart. Only then did Brol observe that the upper sleeves and left chest of her suit were torn. He approached her, and she noticed him looking at her torn uniform. She gave a harsh laugh and looked away towards the rising sun. “They were NRA, same as I was. I thought they were looking for me, so told them who I was and they tried to kill me. Well, if they don’t want me, I don’t want them.” She opened her hand to show him the pieces cut from her uniform. They all bore the same triangular emblem as the vehicle had. She turned her hand over to let the cloth fall, and turned north to start the climb again.
From Dust:
Introduction
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-introduction.html
Prologue
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-prologue.html
Chapter 1 - The Trademaster
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-1---the-trademaster.html
Chapter 2 - The Wretched
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-2---the-wretched.html
Chapter 3 - The Device
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-3---the-device.html
Chapter 4 - Tucamari
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-4---tucamari.html
Over the same few days Brol managed to draw some more information from the Theodora Fane, but he got the feeling she was not being completely candid. She was evasive when questioned about where she had come from, what her mission was, and what the National Recovery Agency was. Watching him from the corner of his eye as they sat around the camp fire of an evening he several times observed her deep in thought and withdrawn from the group around her, and sometimes absently searching her pack as if for something that should be there but was not. Brol was not altogether honest with her either, and his apparently naïve questions disguised how much he knew. He had heard of underground buildings dating from Ancient times, buildings in which groups of soldiers or scholars had been somehow kept asleep for all that time and woken to carry out some mission. He had also heard that most of these places were now either empty, the inhabitants having left on their missions and taken with them the Ancient artefacts the places were filled with, or were tombs, the life-support systems having failed or having been broken into by treasure-hunters and the sleeping occupants slaughtered. The fact that Fane was alive and did not seem to think she was the last of her group gave Brol food for thought. The others in the group seemed to be remarkably uninterested in Fane and to have unquestioningly accepted her into the group; however her possible status as one of the Ancients, or a close descendent of theirs, gave Brol a few sleepless nights.
Theodora did appear to have a dread of the creatures who had attacked the vehicle she was in and overwhelmed the armed crew. By her description they were clearly Wretched. Her complete lack of knowledge of the infection, which gradually stripped its victims of their intelligence and humanity as their living body decayed, bore out Brol’s suspicion that Fane did not have much experience of the world. Brol and the others exchanged glances as she spoke, tacitly agreeing not to tell her of the Wretched’s appetite for flesh. Her description of the attackers, recounted with a horror she could not disguise, also alarmed the rest of the group. The band that had scattered Fane’s party were clearly in the early stage of the disease, able to plan, co-operate, and use advanced weapons. Her account set off a round of reminiscences round the camp-fire, with each of the band – apart from Sutek, who sometimes listened but more often was occupied with some peculiar activity of his own – attempting to trump the others with tales of creatures they had seen or heard of. Vetch described seeing at a distance a large and ferocious armoured predator he called a horrendosaurus. Brol recounted passing through a village in the ruins of an Ancient city which was run by the white-robed followers of the cult of Saint Death and being chased by the inhabitants, who appeared to have a grudge against mutants. Thok with a convincing mime conjured up the terrifying artificial creatures like silver skeletons which he had had described to him by a traveller. Akim Jart swore that the most frightening opponent he had ever encountered was a pack of wild dogs – numerous, fast moving, intelligent – which he had only evaded by jumping off a cliff into a river.
Fane’s story seemed to suggest that a well-equipped and well-led group of Wretched was in the area. This set Brol thinking, and from that night he increased the number awake at time from one to two and insisted in camping in defensible positions. This at first caused fierce arguments with Sutek the Seer, who wanted the group to camp on sites he saw as suitable for reasons which had nothing to do with defensibility or the availability of fresh water. On the two nights after the stop in the massive ruined building Brol had found a site he considered easy to defend and Sutek had pointedly continued up the road after the others stopped. He had later come marching back as if nothing had happened. Vetch remarked to Akim Jart that Sutek’s mask had showed no sign of blushing. After those two nights Sutek had taken to stopping when the others did.
After a week or so of progress Sutek announced in a matter-of-fact manner one evening that the place he sought was not far away, and that trouble was also close. A ripple of alarm spread through the group, apart from Thok whose demeanour seldom changed. They were on a stretch of flat land no different from any other that they had crossed on their journey. The Badlands, desert dotted with hardy bushes, stretched in all directions. With only slight changes in elevation as dry stream-beds cut through it and low hills rose gently from it. The road ran on endlessly north to south as far as the eye could see. Its surface was on the whole sound, a rough rock-hard black material eroding into black chips at the edges. Where the twisted framework of an Ancient vehicle stood the surface was often smooth, as if melted. At intervals metal poles stood at one edge or another, bare or broken off short. Here and there another road would branch off at right angles and head straight for the horizon. On two occasions Sutek had led them off the road on a day-long detour, and as they skirted the area he wished to avoid they could see an area of desert pitted with craters and containing the skeletons of Ancient buildings, blackened and contorted by heat. Akim Jart showed a good deal of skill at finding water and Sutek, waving his staff over the water-holes, declared them to be free from taint. The holes were generally identifiable by the larger amount of vegetation growing round them, and roughly followed the line of the road.
Vetch speculated that they were appearances on the surface of an underground stream, and a heated debate around the camp-fire followed on whether such things could exist. Brol, after listening quietly, put in that he had seen springs and fountains near Ancient ruins, and added that he thought that the water-holes were caused by leaks in underground channels that had carried water to the towns in Ancient times. Fane said nothing during the discussion, listening with a half-smile. The explanation of a wonder as the work of the Ancients seemed to satisfy everyone, the works of the Ancients being inexplicable and marvellous enough to explain anything.
One evening Sutek declared abruptly that they would reach their destination the following day. As if on cue a sand-storm blew up and the group were obliged to burrow into the lee of the road, covering themselves with their tents and cloaks against the choking sand. The storm made the evening dark as midnight and lasted half of the night. At one point during the storm there was a loud bellowing and honking, and when the storm blew over the pack-beast and its handler were gone. In the morning no tracks could be seen in the fresh-blown sand and the roadway had been sufficiently cleared of drifts by the storm’s tail-wind to make it easy to follow. There was no sign in any direction of the beast or its groom. A bad-tempered search of the area produced not a clue to the fate of beast or handler, and the rest of the morning was spent dividing out amongst the group the items which the beast would have carried. Vetch and Thok were particularly irritated as the beast had carried the battered metal plates that served them as armour and they would now have to carry or wear these. Sutek simply removed from the pile allotted to him anything he did not wish to carry, resulting in his having a much smaller load than everyone else, but as Theodora Fane insisted that she should carry a share the protests at Sutek’s actions were muted.
As they prepared to shoulder their suddenly much larger packs Sutek froze, bent over to collect a pouch. He slowly straightened and said “A shadow. Shadows. Half-alive. Not far away. We must make haste.” Now thoroughly alarmed the others packed up quickly. Despite Akim Jart’s increasingly angry questions Sutek would say no more and instead set of up the road. The rest straggled along behind, tottering under the weight of the supplies. About mid-day they threw down their packs and gratefully slumped down. Sutek stood quivering, looking up the road, then prodded Akim Jart with his staff and indicated that he should scout ahead. He obeyed, and the rest waited uneasily. Within moments Akim Jart was back, urging them to prepare. A group of people was travelling towards them down the road. While the rest began to move the pile of packs off the road, Akim Jart moved back to have another look at the group, which appeared to be moving down the road towards them. By the time all the packs had been moved Akim Jart had returned. He pointed back down the road and said urgently in his deep, hoarse voice, “They are Wretched. About a dozen of them. They have not noticed us yet, I believe, but we don’t have long.”
Brol resumed the role of leader and thought quickly. Should they hide and hope the creatures would not see them? There would not be time to get far off the road, and apart from a few clumps of bushes and outcrops of rock there was little cover. On the other hand perhaps they could ambush the Wretched. He glanced briefly at Sutek for guidance, but he appeared not to be interested and was looking about vaguely. Brol snapped his long fingers and in a few words outlined the plan. “We’ll try to get the drop on them. We should have the advantage if we take them by surprise. What do we have by way of long-range weapons?”
Akim Jart held out his pistol and turned it this way and that. He unslung from his back his huge mechanical pincer, slotted in a power cell, and strapped it tightly over his arm. A series of hissing and grating sounds began as he tested its movements. Fane drew from her belt a sophisticated-looking pistol. “I’m a fair shot with this. I could get one or two.” Brol gave her a brief nod. Thok and Vetch unslung from their backs their long metal-hafted weapons, Thok’s an axe, Vetch’s a heavy wrench, and unrolled the cloth which contained their bits and pieces of battered armour. Vetch also took out a small flask and a rag and began to smear a greenish paste onto the edges of his wrench.
Brol raised his voice slightly to get the group’s attention over the clatter of metal and buzz of small talk. “Is anyone immune? No? Right. So try not to get too close. You four” – he indicated Vetch, Thok, Akim Jart and Fane – “lie low and try to get a shot in before they spot you. Don’t shoot until I say. Sutek – stay with me. We will stay back in reserve.”
The group exchanged nods and moved off. Fane slipped away to one side and disappeared behind a clump of bushes, moving wide to get a clear shot at the Wretched. Vetch, Thok and Akim Jart crashed into a patch of undergrowth in the direction of the Wretched and, as Brol assumed from the decrease in noise, found an ambush position. Brol himself crept forward, with Sutek sauntering behind, until he could see the Wretched and the place where he thought the others were. He laid his weapon down in the gritty sand, and knelt down beside it. Sutek carefully sat down beside him. Brol strained his eyes to get a look at the approaching band. From their staggering, lurching gait they were clearly Wretched, in perhaps the mid-stage of the disease; far enough advanced for it to have affected their coordination and intelligence, but not so far advanced as to have begun to show many signs of atrophy or decay at the extremities of their bodies. They numbered about a dozen, and three or four carried firearms, others clubs, some no weapons at all. One larger specimen, carrying a long metal pole and walking with a more assured stride, appeared to be the leader. The others followed in fairly good order, with no sign of the wandering off distractedly that Brol had seen in other, more diseased, bands. As they came closer he could see the pallid skin colour, open sores and unhealed wounds typical of the Wretched, and thought he could taste in the air the taint of the disease they carried (although he had ceased to mention this to anyone as it seemed no-one else could taste it). Most of the Wretched had torn off much of their clothing as their kind often seemed to as the disease advanced; Brol surmised that the disease caused their skin to be irritable and sore, and as their intelligence waned the only solution they could find was to remove the chafing clothing. He hoped that this was one of those groups held together by the forceful personality of its leader and the promise of the fresh meat he would lead them to, and hoped that the leader might stray close enough for one of the others to shoot him and so throw the band of Wretched into confusion.
Brol watched the group as they came closer, showing no sign of having noticed any of his people. Maybe they would pass by with no need for a fight. Then one stopped still, raised his head, and seemed to sniff the air. Others noticed his actions, stopped, and began to sniff and look around. The apparent leader noted that he was not being followed; he stopped, turned, and standing up straight swung his head about with his tongue out as if testing the air. Brol hesitated, ready to give the signal.
All at once from over to his right he saw Fane stand up from patch of bushes, her face in an expression of disgust, and fire her pistol. There was a flicker of light and one of the Wretched fell. From in front of him Brol heard a cheer from Akim Jart, and a group of Wretched began to stumble towards Jart’s position. Theodora fired again and again, and another of the Wretched went down, and then Brol saw her start running towards him. He looked across to see what the leader of the enemy band was doing, and saw him attempting to herd together those Wretched who carried guns. When he looked back the first group were nearly at the position that Akim Jart and Vetch occupied, with Thok being a little way apart from them. As the Wretched came close Akim Jart, with a loud shout, leapt from his position in cover and fired at the group. One fell, but the others closed with Jart and Vetch. Akim Jart bellowed and swung his mechanical pincer, throwing a couple of the Wretched to the ground. Vetch stepped forward and crushed the skull of one of the fallen creatures with his wrench, and the others fell back in alarm. Jart sank to his knees, and as Brol moved forward to see what was happening he noticed that he was vomiting and sweating profusely. With an effort Akim Jart rose to his feet, just as the group of Wretched prepared to attack again, and rushed forward. Jart collided with the group of Wretched, killing one with his pincer and knocking another down; again Vetch finished off the downed creature. As Vetch and Jart regained their breath Brol saw the leader urging the gun-armed Wretched to fire, and also noticed a single Wretched emerge from cover and run at Akim Jart. Sutek had stood up at Brol’s side, and Brol saw him raise his staff and stare fixedly at the Wretched; the creature staggered and fell. Akim Jart only now noticed him and looked about in confusion. Not far away the Wretched leader was gesturing at Akim Jart and Vetch. With a shaking hand Jart raised his pistol and shot him. The remaining Wretched scattered. Brol now waved the others forward and headed for where Akim Jart and Vetch stood in the open. Fane had now joined Brol and angrily showed him her gun, now exhausted of charge. Thok plodded stolidly forward, and Sutek ambled at Brol’s side. Before anyone could reach Jart and Vetch’s position the Wretched, their hunger overcoming their fear, finally opened fire. Jart was hit and helped by Vetch staggered into cover. As the others watched helplessly the Wretched poured fire into the bushes where the two were hiding and one, armed with a long club, rushed at them. Brol could see Vetch standing over Jart, defending him against the Wretched; a moment later he saw Sutek raise his staff and the Wretched stumble and fall, to be decapitated by Vetch. Akim Jart again rose to his feet and he and Vetch charged out of the bushes into the four Wretched who had been shooting at them. Jart felled one with his pincer, another staggered from the fight and fell heavily – Sutek’s work, Brol assumed – but the remaining two knocked Jart down. Akim Jart, now visibly at the end of his strength, tried to rise but failed. Vetch fended off the two attackers, and when one of them suddenly toppled over backwards Jart was able to stagger up as Vetch finished the last of the Wretched.
The fighting was over. Sutek, Brol and Theodora ran to Jart. Vetch waved them back, and Jart, leaning unsteadily on his mechanical pincer, called across to them. “I’m infected. One of them got me. Stay back.” He coughed and spat a gobbet of dark mucus.
Vetch looked himself over and announced, “Looks like I’m immune – I’ve touched a few and I’m covered in blood but I feel fine.” Fane looked alarmed and said “You might be a carrier, though. Wait there!”
Brol, edgy and angry, shouted at Sutek. “You might have said you could do that!”
Sutek looked across at Brol with his blank metal mask. Brol continued. “That telepathic attack or whatever it was.”
Sutek replied mildly, “Must I tell you all that I can do? I can read, I can tie good knots, I can . . .”
Brol dropped his weapon with a clang and turned away from Sutek. “What do we do about him? He’ll get weaker and will probably die, and he might infect us.”
Fane spoke. “We can’t leave him. Anyway, he won’t walk any slower than Thok here.”
Thok looked over placidly, hoses swaying.
Sutek reached over his own shoulder and fiddled with the tanks on his back so that a hissing sound issued from his mask then marched a little unsteadily a few paces towards Jart and Vetch, raising his staff towards first one then the other. “This one” – he indicated Jart – “is burning with their disease. The other is not. He may well be immune.”
As it began to get dark the group made their way back to where they had discarded their packs. They lit a fire and made a melancholy meal, with Akim Jart lying a good distance apart tended by Vetch. After some angry discussion they agreed to assume that Vetch was not carrying the plague and to allow him to shuttle between the groups to fetch food for Jart. Vetch ate and drank sparingly and slept fitfully. During the night Jart raved and thrashed such that Vetch considered tying him up, and in the morning he was pale, burning hot, and ravenously hungry. There was little food to spare, and over breakfast the group discussed their course of action. Jart shouted that he would go off on his own, track the few Wretched who escaped the fight, and kill them before he died. Vetch dubiously said he would go with him. Brol remembered hearing of healers who could cure the plague, but thought it might be only a story and anyway had no idea where they might be found. Sutek said he could do nothing and that Jart would inevitably die. Fane was still very wary of Vetch, sitting as far from him as she politely could. Thok looked around calmly and contributed nothing. Together they managed to persuade Jart to remain with the group, but with difficulty and to the obvious relief of Vetch. They set off up the road once again, with Jart and Vetch trailing behind to maintain some separation and because Jart was clearly weakening. Looking back Brol on several occasions saw Jart pause for breath and wipe trickles of blood from ears and nose. At night they once again camped separately with Vetch acting as go-between. Brol observed Jart angrily expostulating with Vetch as they ate and Vetch meekly handing his share over to Jart who shovelled it into his large mouth with his bare hands. The atmosphere round the fire was gloomy, but alleviated when Sutek declared that next day they would reach their destination.
The Seer proved to be right when soon into their day’s march a range of hills began to be visible through the heat haze and appeared to fill the horizon ahead of them. By noon they were close at hand, and the road turned sharply left to avoid them. Sutek indicated a path which led straight up the hills from the road and the group climbed the rocky scrub-dotted hills. By dusk they had reached the top and saw below them the ruins of a great city filling the valley. The setting sun glinted off the circular lakes which dotted the ruins and the river which connected the lakes. Threads of smoke rose from several points in the ruins. Coming up to the crest of the ridge Akim Jart fell to the ground and lay still. Vetch, a few paces behind, pointed down the slope. “Someone is coming. They seem to be heading for us, or down there maybe.” Looking back Brol saw bright lights moving down the road, and from their configuration assumed they belonged to a vehicle of some sort. Brol looked at Sutek, whose mask looked back, and then sighed.
“Remember at the bottom of the slope, where the road turned? The road went over that stream where the bridge had collapsed? Their vehicle would not be able to cross that, and they would have to dismount. We could see who they are, and if need be ambush them. What do you think?”
Akim Jart raised himself onto one elbow with a great effort. A thread of bloody drool ran unheeded from the corner of his mouth, and his three beady eyes travelled from one of the group to the next. His face bore a strange expression. Brol felt significance in the air. Was the expression resignation? Vetch extended his arm to assist Akim Jart to his feet, and as he rose slowly to his feet Thok set off down the hill at his usual slow steady pace. Fane looked from Brol to Sutek to Akim Jart, shrugged, and followed Thok. Jart and Vetch, talking quietly, moved off. Brol felt a surge of pride and set off down the path, picking his way carefully in the gloom. Behind him Sutek the Seer strolled down the path, the last of the sun making his steel mask glow orange.
All the way down the hill they kept a close eye on the lights approaching along the road. Brol was concerned that the vehicle would reach the collapsed culvert before the group would. He estimated it was a couple of hours before dawn by the time he and Fane arrived there. The rest straggled behind – first Thok plodding inexorably along, then Sutek, and last Akim Jart supported by Vetch. In the distance Brol could see the vehicle’s headlights. By the time the rest had straggled down to where Brol was the vehicle was quite close. The group spread themselves out in cover a short way from where the road would have crossed the now dry river bed had the bridge still been there. Two white pillars stood in the middle of the bed, but otherwise there was no sign of the bridge at all and the black roadway ended raggedly at the edge of the gully. As the vehicle approached the band readied their weapons. It pulled up at well short of the broken road and sat for a moment, its motor emitting a low whine. The group squinted against its lights to see what the vehicle was. As far as Brol could see it was a large white square-looking machine with four huge wheels. A door opened and figures in white suits emerged. Dazzled by the glare of the suits in the lights Brol watched closely, and thought he could see some sort of triangular emblem painted above the vehicle’s narrow front window. Without warning Theodora Fane stood up and stepped into the open. She shouted to the figures, giving her name and rank in much the same way as she had introduced herself to the band. The figures reacted quickly, crouching and pointing weapons at her.
“What are you doing? Get down!” hissed Brol.
The suited figures showed some confusion, edging together and obviously communicating with one another. One moved apart from the others, coming closer to the lip of the gully, and Fane stepped towards it, calling out. A flash of light illuminated the gully for less than the blink of an eye, and Fane fell to the ground. She scrambled backwards into the slight dip in which Brol was lying, cursing under her breath. She banged the ground with her fist, started to rise, lay down again, cursed again. Brol looked left and right to where the others lay hidden and could see no sign that anyone was injured. He slipped further down in the hollow to be further out of sight. The white figures on the other side of the gully moved about and after apparent discussion clambered back into the vehicle. After a short time it reversed, turned laboriously, and moved away back down the road. Brol lay quietly for a moment then crawled to where Fane lay. She clearly been crying, and only shook her head when asked if she was hurt. He crawled further along the line, meeting first Thok, lying watching the road, then Sutek, who seemed to be asleep. Returning past Fane he came to Vetch and Akim Jart. Stopping a safe distance from Vetch Brol called softly to him. Vetch called back. “It is safe to come over. He is away.” Brol edged closer to see Akim Jart lying flat on his back, Vetch having rolled him over to examine him. Vetch continued matter-of-factly, “He must have gone while we were waiting. Never made a sound.” Brol felt shock, and reached over his long over-jointed arm to touch Vetch’s hand.
The sun began to rise and lit cast deep shadows across the place where they lay. There was no sign of the vehicle, and Brol stood up. “They’ve gone. And Akim Jart is dead.” The others gathered around Brol, and looked across at Jart. Sutek picked up a stick and stepped towards the body as if to prod it. Vetch kicked the stick and Sutek dropped it. “What do we do with him?” asked Brol. The others looked at each other.
“Roll the body and his gear into the gully. It is no use to us,” said Sutek.
“Bury him. That is what I would like done with me,” said Vetch. The others nodded, and so they dug a shallow grave and Vetch put the body in it. Vetch threw Akim Jart’s weapons and equipment into the gully in case they were infectious. Vetch and Brol each muttered over the grave, and Thok poured some water and sprinkled crumbs of food onto the mound. As each finished his actions he turned to start the climb up the hill again, following Sutek who had already started.
Theodora Fane watched from a distance as if studying the others as they paid their respects to Akim Jart. Only then did Brol observe that the upper sleeves and left chest of her suit were torn. He approached her, and she noticed him looking at her torn uniform. She gave a harsh laugh and looked away towards the rising sun. “They were NRA, same as I was. I thought they were looking for me, so told them who I was and they tried to kill me. Well, if they don’t want me, I don’t want them.” She opened her hand to show him the pieces cut from her uniform. They all bore the same triangular emblem as the vehicle had. She turned her hand over to let the cloth fall, and turned north to start the climb again.
From Dust:
Introduction
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-introduction.html
Prologue
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-prologue.html
Chapter 1 - The Trademaster
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-1---the-trademaster.html
Chapter 2 - The Wretched
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-2---the-wretched.html
Chapter 3 - The Device
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-3---the-device.html
Chapter 4 - Tucamari
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-4---tucamari.html
