by Mark Lingane
“Friends don’t hit friends,” he said.
“Friends also don’t run away.”
“Friends forever.”
“Or one hundred billion years. Whichever comes first.” She held out her fist, “Come on.”
“What are you doing?”
“Fist bump.”
“I’m not fist bumping you. It’s a guy thing.”
“You want me to bump your face?”
He held out his hand and she punched it.
“Ow. You don’t have to be so rough all the time.”
The rain drove down from the heavens. The sky was pitch black. Visibility could only be measured in yards. The night had crawled by marginally slower than the scenery. Time dragged as the weather drove against them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet. Even when I’ve been swimming,” Melanie said.
Gavin had offered her his jacket, but it was so wet it was as effective as a sieve. The desert plains had dissolved into mud, and their progress had slowed to a crawl.
“In the planning of this great mission, did anyone check where we were heading?” Gavin said.
“I know roughly where we’re going,” replied Sebastian.
“Good. Nothing like being certain.”
“I could send up my owl,” Isaac interjected.
“You do know your owl isn’t real, don’t you?” Melanie asked him.
“It’s a perfect replica. I got it off Albert.”
“If it was real, it could scout out a direction or some shelter for us,” she said.
“It can fly.”
The troop remained silent for several minutes as they marched through the seemingly eternal mud.
Eventually Sebastian spoke. “Isaac, is your owl an automaton?”
“What’s that?”
“A self-operating machine. You can set it to do a particular task like fly. Does your owl do something like that? Does it search?”
“Maybe,” he replied cautiously. “But it hasn’t been the same since the tesla tower fell on it.”
“We’ve been going for hours,” Sebastian said. “We should try to find somewhere dry where we can get some rest and dry out a bit. What kind of things can your owl search for, Isaac?”
Isaac held it up and read from the words on the back. “Mice, keys, home, and the glint of a solitary beacon of hope in the pit of the night.”
“Really?” Gavin asked.
“Actually, it says ‘light,’ but I’d thought I’d spice it up a bit.”
“Do the light setting. It’s a million-to-one chance out here, but you never know,” Sebastian said.
Isaac took out a large key and inserted it into the bottom of the owl. He twisted for several minutes. He changed hands and continued to turn the key. After several more minutes, he swapped hands again and continued. He had his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth and a fixed expression of concentration. He paused and shook his hand, then continued to wind.
“Oh, this is stupid, give it to me. We’ll be here all night.” Melanie snatched it out of his hands. After several minutes, she swapped her hands.
Isaac looked smug. “See, it’s not as easy as you think.”
Finally, the mechanism tightened and slowed, until at long last it clicked as far as it would go. Melanie handed it back with a look of triumph on her face, secretly wringing her hands behind her back.
Isaac double-checked the setting on the back, flicked a small lever on the underside of the owl’s feet, and threw it into the air. The wings flapped with a chaotic urgency as it fought for height. It flapped in larger and higher circles until it shot off in a northerly direction.
“Did you see that?” Isaac said proudly.
They all squinted and noticed the faint glint of a solitary beacon of hope in the pit of the night.
“Why didn’t we see that before?” she said.
The automaton came flapping down from the torrential night, like a crazed No Bearing fan. It hit Isaac in the middle of his chest and sent him spinning through the mud.
“At least it’s happy to see you,” muttered Sebastian.
They trudged off in the direction of the light, with Isaac scrambling to catch up.
Melanie knocked on the door. She had to duck to fit in under the low roof on the strange shed located in the middle of nowhere. As she waited, she wrung the water out of her hair and tied it into a ponytail. The water ran down the back of her neck, making her shiver. She was about to turn away when the door creaked open. No one stood behind it.
“Hello?” she called out. No one responded.
She peered in. The place appeared to be vacant, as well as warm, tantalizingly dry, and peaceful. She took a step inside. No one shouted or attacked her so she took another step. One large, ornately carved wooden chair sat to the side with a matching side table. Decorative hangings covered the walls, and a thick carpet appeared to be attached to the ceiling. It dulled the incessant hammering of the rain to a gentle and soothing lullaby. She yawned, and indicated for the others to enter.
Isaac was looking intently at the images on the walls. They were covered in black swirls and dotted patterns. He cleared his throat.
Someone cackled behind them. They spun and faced the center of the room. It was empty. Melanie felt Gavin’s hand on her shoulder. She wheeled around to see a hideous old woman standing behind her. After several minutes of failing to lure Isaac from under the large chair, the group settled down.
“That was a colorful display of local language,” said the old woman. She was short and wrapped in rags. Her gray hair was tied into a ponytail, and her eyes full of menace.
“You startled me,” Melanie replied as a way of explanation.
“Still, you could have entered without the personal threats. Your young beau nearly hit the roof.” She indicated Gavin, who was trying to compose himself.
“I’m not used to people appearing out of thin air,” he said.
She laughed. “I didn’t appear out of thin air. I came in from the other room.”
“The one that we were looking at,” Melanie said. “But you appeared behind us.”
“Yes …” the woman replied hesitantly. “Anyway, you look like you could use some shelter. Maybe a bite to eat?”
“Food?” whimpered Isaac. He still had not emerged from beneath the seat.
“I need to sit down,” Sebastian said. He was tired beyond words. His clothes hung loosely, saturated with water and clammy on his skin.
“Yeah, me too,” added Gavin. A trail of water ran back to the entrance.
The two sat on rugs and pillows piled against the wall, squelching as they relaxed into the comfortable heaps. Both attempted to stifle their yawns.
“Gentlemen, give me your clothes. I shall dry them,” the old woman said.
Much to Melanie’s surprise they got up and removed their outer clothes, somewhat in a daze, and handed them over. They lay and were asleep moments later.
“You too, young man under the chair,” the old woman said.
A bunch of clothes were thrown out and landed at her feet. And within seconds, a slight snoring came from Isaac’s direction as well.
“They must have been tired indeed,” muttered the old lady. “Help me with the task.”
“I normally have someone who does that for me,” Melanie said.
“Even in the cave?”
“How did you know about the cave?”
“I didn’t, you just told me.”
“Hang on, that’s very suspic—”
“Enough of this lighthearted chatter, we must dry the clothes.”
The old woman handed the soaking collection of garments to Melanie and motioned for her to follow. Through the archway lay a utilitarian room, stark and cold. A wide pillar stood in the center of the room with the appearance of an ancient tree trunk. Even without the carpet on the ceiling, the rain had a distant, soothing quality, like it was happening a long way off.
Melanie yawned again and blinked t
o keep her eyes open. A bronze contraption dominated the room, full of pipes, wheels and a cylindrical drum which stretched wider than her arms. The contraption towered above her.
“And that machine is …?” she asked, suppressing another yawn.
A boiler was producing a steady head of steam, turning a paddlewheel, which in turn rotated a belt, which was attached to the large metal drum. It spun quietly with the occasional whump. An incredible amount of heat was pouring off the drum and boiler.
“It’s for the rapid drying of clothes. I call it the aeration-and-freshening-of-clothes device.”
“That’ll catch on.” Melanie’s exhaustion failed to muster the appropriate level of sarcasm. She fought against the drowsiness trying to claim her, folding her arms and staring at the old woman. Her hands felt lighter, as though something was missing.
“You cannot stop the march of progress, child. You cannot escape destiny. You cannot escape the decay. You will learn that one day.”
The old woman wandered over to the device and pulled a lever. It came to a shuddering halt. She opened the door and steam billowed out of the drum. She signaled for Melanie to join her.
“Come, dear, help an old lady with crooked hands fold the clothes.”
“This machine seems like a lot of effort when you could simply hang your clothes outside in the heat like everyone else does.”
“You cannot trust the air. It carries the voices of evil warlords. It soaks into the clothing if you leave it out. And then I hear their foul mutterings when I wear the clothes.”
The old lady withdrew Sebastian’s shirt and folded it neatly. She handed it to Melanie, who threw it on the floor. Melanie paused. Something didn’t seem right. The old lady glanced over her shoulder to make sure Sebastian was asleep in the far room.
Melanie shook her head. She was being handed back clothes she couldn’t remember handing over. “How did you get the clothes?”
“There’s not much I can tell you, but this I know for certain.” The old lady paused and closed her eyes. “You will meet your demise at his hands. Follow him and you will lose everything. Your heart. Your mind. Your body. And all that will be left will be your angry and bitter thoughts floating in the wind across the empty desert.”
Melanie’s gaze drifted to the pile of clothes on the floor, unsure what to make of the prophecy.
“I’m sorry. Now pass me the basket. You’ll be given a chance to leave him. That’s the only way you can save yourself and what you truly love.”
“Do you mean Gavin?”
The old woman winked at her, and turned to leave. She vanished behind the pillar.
“Hey, I was asking you a question. Why do old people always do that? Can’t start a sentence. Can’t finish one. Hey, come back. Were you talking about …”
She walked around the pillar, and was confronted by the total absence of the old lady. Melanie searched the room several times, even knocking on the pillar to see if it had a secret entrance.
She trudged back to the others. Sebastian was snoring. As she sat, a voice floated to her on the wind as if being shouted from a long way away: What you truly love. She had conflict. With all her heart she wanted to protect Gavin, but had sworn to protect Sebastian. She hoped she wouldn’t have to make a choice.
She rubbed her eyes. Where had the old lady disappeared to? Confusion made a fleeting appearance but was chased away by fatigue. The boys were asleep on the floor, breathing heavily.
“Dear child, you must be tired.”
Melanie nearly jumped out of her skin. “Where did you come from? Where did you go?”
“Maybe you need some clean air. Come with me to the well, for we are without water.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Technically you’re not. But you are.”
“Technically you’re not an old, annoying bat. I don’t want to go out in the rain.” She could still hear it drumming away on the roof, with the deceptive lyrical tone that washed away your troubles.
“What rain?” said the old woman as she opened the door. They both stepped out into a cold night. Melanie’s breath billowed out in the frost. The night sky was clear and full of stars. Her mind was losing its fight against sleep and she stumbled forward, not noticing the strange land surrounding her.
“This is way weird.”
The old woman coughed. “Many people will come and go over your coming battles, child, and it won’t always be clear who the enemy is. You’ll need to learn wisdom and trust your instincts. Otherwise dark times will come and take the land.”
“You’re the cheery one,” Melanie said. “Do you have anything positive to say?”
“You’ll have good weather for two days. Then heavy rains.”
“All in all, that doesn’t really balance out the doom-and-gloom, end-of-the-world stuff.”
“How about this. You’ll meet a tall, dark stranger, and fall in love.”
“I thought that already happened.”
“Child, what do you know of love? You haven’t felt the raw pain of loss, the eternal damnation of unrequited affection.”
“I think I preferred the weather report.”
“Nevertheless, much will rest on you. There will be times when you need to make decisions with your heart, and sometimes with your head. If you fail to do this, all will be lost.” She cackled and wandered off to the well. “So what do you think you’ll do?”
“About what?” The bucket was heavy in Melanie’s hands. She paused. Again, she had a feeling she’d missed something.
“Your oath. Will you keep your promise?”
“How did we end up back in your shed? We were just out by the well.”
“Yes, then we came back. It would be impossible for us to just magically appear here.”
Melanie sat on the floor. Behind her were a dozen pillows. She reclined into them and closed her eyes.
“Your oath. You must keep it if you’re all to survive. Break it and the world will be lost.”
“What oath?” Melanie yawned. “I can’t remember …”
“The one you carry deepest in your heart,” the old woman said. “Although you hide it.”
Melanie fell into a deep slumber, and all four of them slept on as the rain drummed on the roof, alone in the empty room.
35
SEBASTIAN STIRRED. HE was the first awake. He was covered with several blankets and his clothes were next to him, dry and pressed. His cuirass had even been polished. He staggered up and quickly dressed before anyone had the chance to see his underpants. He stretched out his limbs. They were stiff and sore from the overnight march.
Sebastian crept over to the front door. The morning sun greeted him and lifted his spirits. He stepped out into the growing light and onto the hardening sands. He walked around the shed. It looked small from the outside, barely big enough to fit even the one room, let alone two. He took a couple of deep breaths, smelling the freshness of the clean skies and damp ground.
The old woman coughed.
He jumped out of his skin.
“Young child, you must be thirsty,” came her old, croaky voice. She was standing behind a large boiling pot. A small fire burned underneath, glowing green in the morning light. “Drink long of the broth, and receive its gifts.”
Sebastian gave her a long stare. He stepped over to the pot and sniffed. “Does this contain strange things and foreign exotics, like vegetables?”
“You’ll receive great nourishment in both mind and spirit.”
Sebastian took this to mean that it not only had vegetables, but also tofu. Yet it did smell tempting. He hadn’t eaten in a day, and the sandwiches Isaac made smelled highly suspect.
The old woman looked at him gleefully as he approached. She held out her ancient, hooked hand and beckoned him to taste.
“If I drink from this, will I be given insight into dark, possible futures?” he asked.
“No. You’ll be given relief from thirst and hunger for a short while, stupid child. Jus
t have a drink and be on your way. You’re annoying and ask too many stupid questions. I have things to do, people to see. I’m a busy witc—person. You’ll need the sustenance from the broth once the darkness comes and you have to face the truth.”
He took the small bowl she offered and dipped it in the broth. He slurped noisily. “Hey, that’s not ba—”
Sebastian was woken by someone shaking him violently.
Melanie was shouting at him. “What were you doing out here?” she yelled, rocking him back and forth.
Sebastian took a deep breath. He saw Gavin and Isaac standing behind Melanie. “I came out, and it was fresh and the old woman gave me something to drink, and it was quite tasty, then she said some stuff, then everything went dark suddenly. Then there was the elephant. Then the fire under the pot exploded.”
The ground showed no signs of an explosion. Or even any other tracks in the drying mud other than Sebastian’s.
“Are you okay?” asked Isaac.
“I feel good. Great, in fact, full of beans. Not beans, because they’re vegetables, and I’m generally allergic to all vegetables. Even beans. But they’re funny because they make you fart.”
The others glanced uncertainly at each other.
“Are you sure—” Isaac began.
“Don’t ask him any more questions,” Melanie blurted. She had to interrupt, otherwise it would take them all day to get going.
She helped Sebastian up and handed him his pack. It felt heavier than before, but he felt strong and bouncy. He slipped it over his shoulders and they set off in the direction of the cyborg hive.
“Come on, Gavin, keep up.” Isaac had been giving the older boy trouble for the last several miles.
“Shut up, pipsqueak.”
“Hey, I’m the one who found shelter. What have you done?”
“My task’s more important. When it’s time, I shall be revealed and save the day,” Gavin replied.
“Save the day? More like save your skin.”
“Leave him alone, Isaac. You’re coming across as jealous,” Melanie said.
“What’s there to be jealous of? Some of us have had to earn our rewards, not have them just handed to us.”
