In spite of its size Benny Knuckles steered the oversized motorcycle agilely through the tangled streets and alleys that made up the New Colony. Urban planning had not been a high priority, Ellie supposed, for the town was a veritable labyrinth. But within minutes they cleared the colony's maze and were speeding down a broad, flat road heading west that led toward their destiny. There would be no turning back now.
Ellie tried to imagine what this world would have been like if its history hadn't been so tragically corrupted. This fertile plain, so long and wide, might have teemed with farms and ranches, producing food for millions. Instead it was a wasted, empty grassland between the New Colony and the Nazgul.
Behind her the colony was becoming a memory, its lights glittering like the far off stars. Ellie peeked over Benny's shoulder. The wind blew through her hair, and she felt liberated. Under the combined glow of the waning moons she could see the Celestial Mountains a hundred kilometers ahead. She wondered if they held the salvation she so desperately sought, or just the final stage of her damnation.
"How long until we get there?" she asked in Benny's ear.
"A unit before we reach the foothills," Benny replied over the rushing wind. "Probably another before the road ends. From there we will have to go on foot."
The night grew cold. Ellie was glad she had taken Benny's advice to dress warmly. Still, she snuggled behind him, letting him bear the blunt of the wind. As for Benny, he didn't complain. In fact, Ellie had the impression that he was enjoying himself immensely. Was he ignorant of the dangers ahead, or did he simply not care?
"It's love, Ellie," her guilty conscience told her. "It's his love--for you."
Time passed. The nearly silent motorcycle glided almost miraculously over the uneven road. Soon they entered the rolling foothills, and the mountains loomed ever closer. There was nothing celestial about them, Ellie thought bitterly. They grew from the valley floor like angry spikes: impossibly steep, impossibly high, an unconquerable barrier. Looking at them made her tingle with fear. What if they failed?
There was no sign of pursuers, and there would be none. For Ellie now knew that the people of the New Colony were like the cattle of far off Earth: led around, used, and ultimately given up for slaughter. No one had ever dared challenge the perverted order of colony life and the laws of The Reckoning, and no one had ever openly rebelled. Until now.
The road began to narrow, becoming rough and ungainly. It veered to the right and followed the base of the mountains. Soon it was little more than a rutted path. They traveled two, maybe three more kilometers until the motorcycle's massive headlights fell upon a large boulder that blocked their way.
Benny pulled to a stop. "We've gone as far as we can," he said. "Benny will hide the bike in the scrub. If the Lords allow us to survive it will be here when we return."
Ellie grunted but felt no such optimism. For her, this ride felt like a one-way trip. She stiffly climbed off the bike, shook the pins and needles from her legs, and watched Benny maneuver the motorcycle to a place out of sight from the road.
The feeling of vulnerability returned to her. It would be three units before the sun showed its face. Danger lurked in every shadow. Benny had told her it was thought that the Nazgul, gorged from their feasting at the New Colony, hibernated until just before the next Reckoning, but no one knew for sure. Were they out there now, Ellie wondered, circling their eerie nests, searching for an unexpected sweet?
Benny appeared unconcerned. After securing the motorcycle, he produced a large, quilted pad that he spread across a patch of flat ground near the rock.
"Here, Ellie, rest before the day begins," he said.
"Perhaps we should go now," Ellie replied, looking nervously above her.
"Benny does not wish to encounter a Nazgul in the dark," he said grimly. "At least in the daylight, I know they sleep."
He was right, of course, Ellie thought. Damn him!
She looked at the quilt and suddenly a great weariness came upon her. Without another word of protest she fell upon it. With heavy eyes she looked up at the starry night sky, filled with an infinity of unknown constellations. Where was Mother Earth, she wondered? Where exactly was she?
****
"Ellie. Ellie wake up."
Ellie awoke with a start. The thoughtful face of Benny Knuckles was peering down at her. For a brief moment she didn't know where she was, but it soon came rushing back to her; the heartache and the terror that had driven her to this time and place. The stars were gone, hidden by the oncoming daylight and a thin membrane of clouds that had swept across the azure sky while she slept.
She rose on one elbow and looked about sleepily. The distant horizon was split with a glorious array of colors that announced the dawn. Ahead was the vast plain untouched by human hands except for the nearly forgotten road cut long ago before the Great Disaster. The morning breezes rippled across the wild sun-baked grasses like waves on a golden ocean. Somewhere beyond the plain, now hidden from her view, was the New Colony and the Outer Territories and the Great Sea beyond. Behind her, the angry mountains rose to a dubious heaven, remote and lonely.
Ellie stood and stretched. Benny handed her a cup of Kuva from a thermos. She took the drink gratefully, forgetting that it was a far cry from the rich coffee of Mother Earth. She took a sip and with her free hand rubbed the remains of sleep from her eyes.
"Come with Benny, Ellie. He wants to show you something."
Ellie followed Benny past the rock that blocked the path and around a bend. She stopped. There, before her, was a wondrous sight. A trail had been carved out of the rock, a trail that led upward. Her eyes followed it as it snaked around the mountainside, eventually disappearing around a far curve.
"Who made this?" she asked wondrously. She had imagined they would have to climb, that the path to the Nazgul would be a bitter, back-breaking struggle. She never imagined a trail.
Benny shook his head. "Benny doesn't know. He has heard nothing of a trail; not a whisper. The road that brought us here, yes, that is well known, but nothing of a mountain trail."
"Do you think it leads to the Nazgul?" she asked hopefully.
Benny looked at the twisting trail thoughtfully and nodded. "Benny thinks it does."
"Then who..?" Her question tailed off for there was no apparent answer.
"Perhaps we'll see," Benny said, his eyes returning to her. "Benny thinks today many mysteries will fall away, and the answers will come--whether we like them or not."
They returned to their make-shift camp to prepare. "Thank you, Benny," Ellie said as they walked. "Thank you again for everything. Did you manage to rest at all?"
"No," he replied. "Benny kept watch just to make sure."
"Then the rumors are true. The Nazgul do sleep."
Benny shrugged. "Benny thinks they are both right and wrong. He thinks one Nazgul never totally sleeps."
Ellie stopped, her mouth agape. "What? You saw it?"
"No," he replied. "Benny saw nothing. But during the darkest part of the night, its shadow crossed his soul. It has a name, you know. The biggest one. He's called Iscar, though no one dares speak its name aloud. It's thought it was the first one to be infected. They say he has special powers. Even as he sleeps, a part of it is aloft, always aloft, watching and waiting."
"Waiting for what?" Ellie asked with a shiver.
"Waiting for the time when all the people of the New Colony are dead.
Waiting to reclaim its home."
"It means to attack the colony?" Ellie said.
Benny sighed. "No, there is no need to attack. The Nazgul are fed and fed well. They only need to wait. The colony is a sick and bitter place. Even someone as low as Benny knows that. Eventually the people will turn on each other."
Ellie understood immediately, and it made sad sense. The New Colony was a house of straw. Its political systems corrupt, its religious beliefs as fragile as a flower in a winter storm. A time will eventually come when it will all fall back on them, and war, the ancient legacy of mankind, will come to claim its own.
"Maybe what we do here will stop it," Ellie offered.
Benny looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said with sadness in his voice. "Come. We must be on the move. Benny fears a storm is coming."
Ellie looked up. The clouds were thickening. The fragile morning sunlight would soon be swallowed by gray.
During the night Benny had unloaded supplies from the saddle bags and divided them into three black backpacks. Two of the packs were roughly equal in size; the third was long and narrow. Benny opened the bag and pulled out a wooden stake milled per Ellie's instructions. It was the length of a baseball bat (an object unknown to Benny Knuckles) and menacingly beautiful. It had been trimmed on a lathe until it was perfectly round--and piercingly sharp at its business end.
The stakes had once been part of a giant oak bed that had come from a place called England. It had been brought to the New Colony to be displayed as an example of the craftsmanship of Mother Earth. It was severely damaged in the Great Disaster and its remains had been reverently stored in the basement of the Glenn Institute for many generations. It was now honored not for craftsmanship, but because it was a relic of a mysterious world known only in dreams and in the enigmatic photos of the Sacred Book.
Benny had taken this relic and cut it up into seven killing stakes. He handed a sample of his handiwork to Ellie. The smooth wood felt good in her hands: cool, inviting, familiar. She remembered the story written by a man she now knew as David. It gave her the knowledge of wooden stakes. They had been a part of a long heritage hidden by society. Was the story true? Surely not to David, who simply brought it out of his imagination and had written it down. But to Ellie it was true, and in a weird way it was written for this very moment in time.
"You did good, Benny," she said, handing it back to him.
"Benny's sorry about the thing called garlic," he said.
Ellie shook her head. "We'll make do," she replied.
Benny placed the stake with the others, then handed one of the smaller packs to Ellie "You carry this lighter one. It contains food Midgey prepared for us.
"I can carry my share of the weight, Benny," Ellie said dryly.
"Benny is sure you can, but who carried you back from the bell tower?" he teased. He picked up the two remaining packs, arranged them on his back, and turned toward the trail. "Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. She would not argue with him; not after all he had done. "But if you don’t mind I will lead the way now, Benny. It's my destiny."
Benny started to argue. Exposing Ellie to danger was against his natural male chivalry. He should lead, facing any danger first. But when he saw how important it was to her, he stopped. This was her journey of discovery, a journey for her soul. The steps that led to the Nazgul were in many ways a validation of her life.
Ellie started up the trail under an increasingly overcast morning. Gravel crunched under their feet, and she wondered how many great causes had begun with this simple, earthy sound? The trail was a marvel. It utilized the mountain's natural switch backs, but when the terrain refused to cooperate, a clear path had been cut into the rock. It had not been constructed for sightseeing; it moved relentlessly upward in a very businesslike fashion. The question was where did it go?
Ellie was thankful Benny Knuckles bore the heavier load. After steadily walking uphill for a unit or more, her legs were cramped and aching. At last they stopped to rest and have a quick meal of thick sandwiches and Kuva from her backpack. As she munched down Midgey's mystery meat, Ellie wondered if Benny had cleverly planned that her "share" of load would slowly diminish as they ate.
Ellie regarded him affectionately. It seemed to her that in the few short days since her awakening, Benny had changed. He had matured, grown into a man before her eyes. He had been thrown into an impossible situation, alien to both his upbringing and culture, and had handled it with bravery and intelligence. She wondered about Midgey. Had it been her quilt he had spread upon the ground? How much did she know about their quest? Did Benny have the slightest idea how much Midgey loved him?
The wind began to kick up, and the smell of rain was thick in the air. Ellie clutched her coat around her and stowed the remains of their lunch. A storm was not what they needed today, but the Lords of Mercury apparently had other ideas.
They continued their journey up the winding trail praying that it would lead them to their goal. It was misting now; only a matter of time before the real rain began. Ellie looked out over the fog choked valley toward the New Colony and wondered what was happening there. Had Virgil regained his composure and sounded the alarm? Was the Glenn Institute aware that some of their treasure was missing? Was the smug complacency of the colony finally beginning to crack?
They rounded a bend and came to a halt. Ahead of them was something unexpected: the dark entrance to a cave.
"Godspeed!" Benny exclaimed.
"Oh, shit," Ellie swore. A dark, ugly cave was the last thing they needed.
The entrance gaped at them like a giant toothy maw. They stood silently in the middle of the trail mentally adding up their choices. There were none. It was either enter the cave or turn back defeated.
"I knew they would be in the dark," Ellie said with resignation. "It only makes sense. Those who live by blood shun the light. But now that the darkness is here...
"Not totally dark," Benny said, lowering his pack. He produced two objects that Ellie first recognized as flashlights, though they only vaguely resembled those lodged in her patchy memory. They were long, narrow, and sleek; cobalt blue except for one clear end. They were, she realized, an electronic torch.
Benny handed one to Ellie. She took it knowing that it might push away the darkness, but it would never stop the terror growing inside her.
Benny saw her distress. "Sometimes it's best not to think too much, Ellie," he said. "Keep yourself focused on your goal. The rest doesn't matter."
Ellie looked at him and nodded. "Let's go, Benny," she said.
As they moved toward the cave, the wind brought the first blast of rain. The heavy drops seemed to urge them on. When they reached the entrance, they hesitated. It smelled bad in there; a rolling odor of deep seated decay.
"We'll get used to it," Benny said without much conviction.
Ellie held out her free hand. Benny took it in his, and together they plunged into the chasm.
Ellie tried to imagine what this world would have been like if its history hadn't been so tragically corrupted. This fertile plain, so long and wide, might have teemed with farms and ranches, producing food for millions. Instead it was a wasted, empty grassland between the New Colony and the Nazgul.
Behind her the colony was becoming a memory, its lights glittering like the far off stars. Ellie peeked over Benny's shoulder. The wind blew through her hair, and she felt liberated. Under the combined glow of the waning moons she could see the Celestial Mountains a hundred kilometers ahead. She wondered if they held the salvation she so desperately sought, or just the final stage of her damnation.
"How long until we get there?" she asked in Benny's ear.
"A unit before we reach the foothills," Benny replied over the rushing wind. "Probably another before the road ends. From there we will have to go on foot."
The night grew cold. Ellie was glad she had taken Benny's advice to dress warmly. Still, she snuggled behind him, letting him bear the blunt of the wind. As for Benny, he didn't complain. In fact, Ellie had the impression that he was enjoying himself immensely. Was he ignorant of the dangers ahead, or did he simply not care?
"It's love, Ellie," her guilty conscience told her. "It's his love--for you."
Time passed. The nearly silent motorcycle glided almost miraculously over the uneven road. Soon they entered the rolling foothills, and the mountains loomed ever closer. There was nothing celestial about them, Ellie thought bitterly. They grew from the valley floor like angry spikes: impossibly steep, impossibly high, an unconquerable barrier. Looking at them made her tingle with fear. What if they failed?
There was no sign of pursuers, and there would be none. For Ellie now knew that the people of the New Colony were like the cattle of far off Earth: led around, used, and ultimately given up for slaughter. No one had ever dared challenge the perverted order of colony life and the laws of The Reckoning, and no one had ever openly rebelled. Until now.
The road began to narrow, becoming rough and ungainly. It veered to the right and followed the base of the mountains. Soon it was little more than a rutted path. They traveled two, maybe three more kilometers until the motorcycle's massive headlights fell upon a large boulder that blocked their way.
Benny pulled to a stop. "We've gone as far as we can," he said. "Benny will hide the bike in the scrub. If the Lords allow us to survive it will be here when we return."
Ellie grunted but felt no such optimism. For her, this ride felt like a one-way trip. She stiffly climbed off the bike, shook the pins and needles from her legs, and watched Benny maneuver the motorcycle to a place out of sight from the road.
The feeling of vulnerability returned to her. It would be three units before the sun showed its face. Danger lurked in every shadow. Benny had told her it was thought that the Nazgul, gorged from their feasting at the New Colony, hibernated until just before the next Reckoning, but no one knew for sure. Were they out there now, Ellie wondered, circling their eerie nests, searching for an unexpected sweet?
Benny appeared unconcerned. After securing the motorcycle, he produced a large, quilted pad that he spread across a patch of flat ground near the rock.
"Here, Ellie, rest before the day begins," he said.
"Perhaps we should go now," Ellie replied, looking nervously above her.
"Benny does not wish to encounter a Nazgul in the dark," he said grimly. "At least in the daylight, I know they sleep."
He was right, of course, Ellie thought. Damn him!
She looked at the quilt and suddenly a great weariness came upon her. Without another word of protest she fell upon it. With heavy eyes she looked up at the starry night sky, filled with an infinity of unknown constellations. Where was Mother Earth, she wondered? Where exactly was she?
****
"Ellie. Ellie wake up."
Ellie awoke with a start. The thoughtful face of Benny Knuckles was peering down at her. For a brief moment she didn't know where she was, but it soon came rushing back to her; the heartache and the terror that had driven her to this time and place. The stars were gone, hidden by the oncoming daylight and a thin membrane of clouds that had swept across the azure sky while she slept.
She rose on one elbow and looked about sleepily. The distant horizon was split with a glorious array of colors that announced the dawn. Ahead was the vast plain untouched by human hands except for the nearly forgotten road cut long ago before the Great Disaster. The morning breezes rippled across the wild sun-baked grasses like waves on a golden ocean. Somewhere beyond the plain, now hidden from her view, was the New Colony and the Outer Territories and the Great Sea beyond. Behind her, the angry mountains rose to a dubious heaven, remote and lonely.
Ellie stood and stretched. Benny handed her a cup of Kuva from a thermos. She took the drink gratefully, forgetting that it was a far cry from the rich coffee of Mother Earth. She took a sip and with her free hand rubbed the remains of sleep from her eyes.
"Come with Benny, Ellie. He wants to show you something."
Ellie followed Benny past the rock that blocked the path and around a bend. She stopped. There, before her, was a wondrous sight. A trail had been carved out of the rock, a trail that led upward. Her eyes followed it as it snaked around the mountainside, eventually disappearing around a far curve.
"Who made this?" she asked wondrously. She had imagined they would have to climb, that the path to the Nazgul would be a bitter, back-breaking struggle. She never imagined a trail.
Benny shook his head. "Benny doesn't know. He has heard nothing of a trail; not a whisper. The road that brought us here, yes, that is well known, but nothing of a mountain trail."
"Do you think it leads to the Nazgul?" she asked hopefully.
Benny looked at the twisting trail thoughtfully and nodded. "Benny thinks it does."
"Then who..?" Her question tailed off for there was no apparent answer.
"Perhaps we'll see," Benny said, his eyes returning to her. "Benny thinks today many mysteries will fall away, and the answers will come--whether we like them or not."
They returned to their make-shift camp to prepare. "Thank you, Benny," Ellie said as they walked. "Thank you again for everything. Did you manage to rest at all?"
"No," he replied. "Benny kept watch just to make sure."
"Then the rumors are true. The Nazgul do sleep."
Benny shrugged. "Benny thinks they are both right and wrong. He thinks one Nazgul never totally sleeps."
Ellie stopped, her mouth agape. "What? You saw it?"
"No," he replied. "Benny saw nothing. But during the darkest part of the night, its shadow crossed his soul. It has a name, you know. The biggest one. He's called Iscar, though no one dares speak its name aloud. It's thought it was the first one to be infected. They say he has special powers. Even as he sleeps, a part of it is aloft, always aloft, watching and waiting."
"Waiting for what?" Ellie asked with a shiver.
"Waiting for the time when all the people of the New Colony are dead.
Waiting to reclaim its home."
"It means to attack the colony?" Ellie said.
Benny sighed. "No, there is no need to attack. The Nazgul are fed and fed well. They only need to wait. The colony is a sick and bitter place. Even someone as low as Benny knows that. Eventually the people will turn on each other."
Ellie understood immediately, and it made sad sense. The New Colony was a house of straw. Its political systems corrupt, its religious beliefs as fragile as a flower in a winter storm. A time will eventually come when it will all fall back on them, and war, the ancient legacy of mankind, will come to claim its own.
"Maybe what we do here will stop it," Ellie offered.
Benny looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said with sadness in his voice. "Come. We must be on the move. Benny fears a storm is coming."
Ellie looked up. The clouds were thickening. The fragile morning sunlight would soon be swallowed by gray.
During the night Benny had unloaded supplies from the saddle bags and divided them into three black backpacks. Two of the packs were roughly equal in size; the third was long and narrow. Benny opened the bag and pulled out a wooden stake milled per Ellie's instructions. It was the length of a baseball bat (an object unknown to Benny Knuckles) and menacingly beautiful. It had been trimmed on a lathe until it was perfectly round--and piercingly sharp at its business end.
The stakes had once been part of a giant oak bed that had come from a place called England. It had been brought to the New Colony to be displayed as an example of the craftsmanship of Mother Earth. It was severely damaged in the Great Disaster and its remains had been reverently stored in the basement of the Glenn Institute for many generations. It was now honored not for craftsmanship, but because it was a relic of a mysterious world known only in dreams and in the enigmatic photos of the Sacred Book.
Benny had taken this relic and cut it up into seven killing stakes. He handed a sample of his handiwork to Ellie. The smooth wood felt good in her hands: cool, inviting, familiar. She remembered the story written by a man she now knew as David. It gave her the knowledge of wooden stakes. They had been a part of a long heritage hidden by society. Was the story true? Surely not to David, who simply brought it out of his imagination and had written it down. But to Ellie it was true, and in a weird way it was written for this very moment in time.
"You did good, Benny," she said, handing it back to him.
"Benny's sorry about the thing called garlic," he said.
Ellie shook her head. "We'll make do," she replied.
Benny placed the stake with the others, then handed one of the smaller packs to Ellie "You carry this lighter one. It contains food Midgey prepared for us.
"I can carry my share of the weight, Benny," Ellie said dryly.
"Benny is sure you can, but who carried you back from the bell tower?" he teased. He picked up the two remaining packs, arranged them on his back, and turned toward the trail. "Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. She would not argue with him; not after all he had done. "But if you don’t mind I will lead the way now, Benny. It's my destiny."
Benny started to argue. Exposing Ellie to danger was against his natural male chivalry. He should lead, facing any danger first. But when he saw how important it was to her, he stopped. This was her journey of discovery, a journey for her soul. The steps that led to the Nazgul were in many ways a validation of her life.
Ellie started up the trail under an increasingly overcast morning. Gravel crunched under their feet, and she wondered how many great causes had begun with this simple, earthy sound? The trail was a marvel. It utilized the mountain's natural switch backs, but when the terrain refused to cooperate, a clear path had been cut into the rock. It had not been constructed for sightseeing; it moved relentlessly upward in a very businesslike fashion. The question was where did it go?
Ellie was thankful Benny Knuckles bore the heavier load. After steadily walking uphill for a unit or more, her legs were cramped and aching. At last they stopped to rest and have a quick meal of thick sandwiches and Kuva from her backpack. As she munched down Midgey's mystery meat, Ellie wondered if Benny had cleverly planned that her "share" of load would slowly diminish as they ate.
Ellie regarded him affectionately. It seemed to her that in the few short days since her awakening, Benny had changed. He had matured, grown into a man before her eyes. He had been thrown into an impossible situation, alien to both his upbringing and culture, and had handled it with bravery and intelligence. She wondered about Midgey. Had it been her quilt he had spread upon the ground? How much did she know about their quest? Did Benny have the slightest idea how much Midgey loved him?
The wind began to kick up, and the smell of rain was thick in the air. Ellie clutched her coat around her and stowed the remains of their lunch. A storm was not what they needed today, but the Lords of Mercury apparently had other ideas.
They continued their journey up the winding trail praying that it would lead them to their goal. It was misting now; only a matter of time before the real rain began. Ellie looked out over the fog choked valley toward the New Colony and wondered what was happening there. Had Virgil regained his composure and sounded the alarm? Was the Glenn Institute aware that some of their treasure was missing? Was the smug complacency of the colony finally beginning to crack?
They rounded a bend and came to a halt. Ahead of them was something unexpected: the dark entrance to a cave.
"Godspeed!" Benny exclaimed.
"Oh, shit," Ellie swore. A dark, ugly cave was the last thing they needed.
The entrance gaped at them like a giant toothy maw. They stood silently in the middle of the trail mentally adding up their choices. There were none. It was either enter the cave or turn back defeated.
"I knew they would be in the dark," Ellie said with resignation. "It only makes sense. Those who live by blood shun the light. But now that the darkness is here...
"Not totally dark," Benny said, lowering his pack. He produced two objects that Ellie first recognized as flashlights, though they only vaguely resembled those lodged in her patchy memory. They were long, narrow, and sleek; cobalt blue except for one clear end. They were, she realized, an electronic torch.
Benny handed one to Ellie. She took it knowing that it might push away the darkness, but it would never stop the terror growing inside her.
Benny saw her distress. "Sometimes it's best not to think too much, Ellie," he said. "Keep yourself focused on your goal. The rest doesn't matter."
Ellie looked at him and nodded. "Let's go, Benny," she said.
As they moved toward the cave, the wind brought the first blast of rain. The heavy drops seemed to urge them on. When they reached the entrance, they hesitated. It smelled bad in there; a rolling odor of deep seated decay.
"We'll get used to it," Benny said without much conviction.
Ellie held out her free hand. Benny took it in his, and together they plunged into the chasm.
No comments:
Post a Comment