The journey back to Yaku lasted no more than an hour. The moment we passed through the palisade was the first and only time I looked behind us. Unbelievable! Two thirds of the entire population streamed into the other two villages as if they had been let loose by the sudden bursting of a dam. The recent floodwater paled in comparison.
Darkly and I made straight for my home on the edge of the market ellipse, where Rodrigo, K'achita and the six bears joined us. Pacal Votan and Puma Pawq'ar went straight on to the underground fleet. The rest of us were due to rendezvous there and embark before sunset.
Flocks of great condor-like birds with enormous wingspans flew westward over the sea, their arrowhead formations pointing toward an empty horizon.
Rodrigo let it be known that he wanted command of the first ship to sail, citing his maritime expertise as a definitive example to the other captains. His idea was to create a convoy, and, by compass and sextant, lead the way to the American continent.
"What shall we do with them?" he asked, nodding to the bears.
"Well, after all they've done for me, I can't very well leave them to become extinct," I replied. "They're coming with us, even if I have to commandeer my own vessel."
K'achita agreed wholeheartedly. "Heroes deserve nothing less. In saving your life, Lord, they inadvertently saved ours; and in saving ours, they have, in turn, given everyone a chance."
Packing a few slices of meat and as much fruit as would fit into my plastic carrier, I suggested Rodrigo and K'achita do likewise. A few doors along the promenade, I heard the protestations of an old couple I was friendly with. They simply refused to heed their sons' advice, instead choosing to stay together in their ancestral home. It touched me to hear their farewells, as I knew the old couple would certainly die there in Yaku, and that families all across Apterona were being ripped apart in the same way. But the old time-traveler was right. I couldn't save everybody, and not everybody wanted to be saved.
Hardly prepared for a sea voyage, we left the chaos of Yaku and raced westward along the bank of the Kuti. It was still early morning. A lingering veil of cumulus clouds robbed us of a perfect sunrise, while the tips of lime grass daubed our shins with heavy dew. Scattered figures lined the river behind us, gradually growing in both number and proximity. By the time we reached the forest border, we estimated that five or six thousand had left the villages and taken Puma Pawq'ar's advice. The vast majority, though, had headed northeast to the mountains and their beloved Kamachej. The Prince's artful deception had torn his people apart, bitterly.
"Baz, what was that the Romanian said about carrion crows?" asked Rodrigo, in English.
I remembered the conversation instantly. "Something about us trying until the carrion crows caw--he was rather pessimistic, wasn't he?"
"Mierda! Just a little." He laughed. "I wonder, if he was with us now, could he point those crows out to us; no doubt we've proved his point about time travel."
"No doubt. But who is he to give advice? Nobody learns anything with caution, except how to be cautious. It could've been a lot worse, Rodrigo."
"Sí, it could. We might've ended up at someplace about to be obliterated by fire. Just think what that could do to your suntan, Baz."
He grabbed hold of my forearm and lifted it high, in a kind of desperate celebration. And in a way he was right, for not only did my skin have a noticeable tan, I had not mentioned or even thought about the warm climate for over half a year. At least that's one thing I've conquered.
Plumes of smoke rose like languid chimney columns from the canopy, at more or less equidistant intervals across the forest. Their locations approximated the route of the river, and I wondered what folly might have caused them. Was this the start of the great fire from my premonition? Were we walking straight into the heart of disaster? Then a solitary figure appeared, bearing a naked torch.
"Lord! Good, you are the first," said the stranger. "We have protected your path with fire; all beasts fear it, so none shall trouble you if you stay close to the river's edge. How the great bears will fare I do not know, but good luck. I will remain here to pass on these instructions. Six more of us have been posted along the route to ensure guidance and safety. Fair fortune, friends, and a fine journey."
We thanked the fellow and set off along the route I had only before glimpsed in ominous darkness. Apart from the widening river, the only distinguishing feature of this forest was a thorough tangle of webs which clung from tree to tree, fifty yards or so from the opposite bank. I recalled what happened that night in the boat. Huge webs and giant scorpions--let's get a move on, shall we...
Each checkpoint we reached spurred us on, though after about twenty miles of rapid walking I was weary. Darkly and the bears took the entire journey in their lumbering strides. By the time we reached the top of the sea cliff, it was midafternoon, and the roar of the waterfall muffled our speech.
The final guide, an extremely tall man with a spear to match, beckoned us to the safety of the staircase inside the rock. He was breathless and urgent. We didn't stop to wonder. We sprinted to him, finally sliding across the slick moss. No sooner did the twelve of us tumble inside the hollow when a terrible explosion shook us to our feet.
"That was close by!" exclaimed Rodrigo. "What the hell was it?"
"Ha! Not dead yet, then. Still without a clue, though!" A tiny little man ran by us up the steps. He moved so quickly he was barely a blur of bedraggled cloth and hair.
"Old man?"
Rodrigo and I shared a look of disbelief as we squeezed past the bears to follow him. We watched as the time-traveler scurried along the cliff rim and stopped at the neck of the waterfall. Strangely, the Kuti River no longer fell to the sea at that point. The old man turned and held up a victorious fist. I beheld the brilliance of his handiwork. A fresh water channel now tipped the torrent over the cliff face a further forty feet to the south. It was a problem that had somehow never occurred to me. With the mouth of the cave below blocked by a cascade, the fleet could never have set sail. As surprised as I was to see him here, it was the speed of the time-traveler's ingenuity that left me speechless.
All this overnight?
"Finally found a use for the blasted thing," he said, referring to the catalyst of the explosion.
"What thing is that?"
"Ha! Just a quick sample from my cuisine, Englishman."
"Look!" cried Rodrigo, his glare anchored to the cove below. "It's already begun!"
I leaned over the cliff's edge to an invigorating sight. A solitary blue sheet flapped in search of its first open wind. The vessel itself seemed hardly to move, yet inched forward on the tide. It was manned by over two dozen fellows and decked with all manner of covered wooden boxes. Very wise, I thought, to ready the supply ships first. The great exodus had begun before my very eyes.
"You've been busy, old man," Rodrigo said.
"I take it you came straight here instead of entering the Palace," I said to the time-traveler.
"Hmm...but of course. Alpaca and the Prince have a great deal to learn about time," he replied. "While they sought to convince a poisoned king to give up his poison, I knew the cure lay elsewhere. There are times for awaiting permission, and the prelude to a seismic event isn't among them. Yes, I came straight here to ready the fleet, and then on to the villages with shocking tidings. Ha! Those rumors spread faster than any firestorm, let me tell you.
"Hmm... I see you intend to voyage with the fleet and bring these bears with you, time machine be damned?"
"Time machine be damned!" I agreed.
"Well, who am I to argue? When a man's will ticks on its own..."
He led us down the staircase in the rock, where we joined Pacal Votan and a score of other men assembled on the beach to assist the first evacuees in this daunting exodus. Puma Pawq'ar had already assumed command of the first vessel, and had left word for the four of us not to dally ashore too long.
So ingeniously had the time-traveler's advice been implemented the night before
that a number of lifts and pulleys now transported supplies and personnel from the cliff top to the beach. The natives' organization was a marvel of simplicity. Those mysterious residents of the underground habitat assisted at every stage of the evacuation, obviously well primed by Puma Pawq'ar. A significant store of supplies had been maintained in the cave long before the time arrived to use them; decades in the planning, it now seemed a shame to rush these careful procedures into action.
Sensing that Darkly and the bears would not react kindly to the chaos to come, I convinced Pacal to board them on the third vessel. The cargo hold on this ship was built to house ten or twelve wanakus, the llama creatures, for the voyage, and was therefore reinforced. I tried to lure the bears inside with a meal of fish apiece. To my relief, they took the bait, or rather devoured it, without a single defiant gesture. Only Darkly himself, strutting by me at a slow, impertinent pace, appeared to perceive something untoward. I like to think he trusted me, and that our tacit understanding, borne through many hardships, culminated in his silent acquiescence. My turn had come to save his life. As I bolted the door, I caught the briefest of glints in his eye as he looked up. Hope? Fear? Love? Contentment? Exactly what does a bear feel, apropos of man?
I stayed with him as the ship was made ready for sail. I jumped ashore to help pull it clear from the cave, and then watched it drift inelegantly to the open sea. What new worlds awaited Darkly, and what might he make of them?
The first truly violent earth tremor occurred before we had finished loading the eleventh vessel. People on board ducked, held one another tight. Rows of stalactites shattered, shed droplets and rock shards all about. The cave itself trembled like the jaw of a beast in agony. The entire land mass seemed to convulse. For a moment, it ceased. The line of evacuees froze.
A faint rumble began. Could it be waves breaking outside? No! The ground vibrated underfoot. Gasps and cries from the native families echoed round the cave. The walls and ships appeared to oscillate as the tremor picked up momentum. Just then, a terrific thunder hurtled through the cave. For a split second my feet lifted from the ground; the island itself leapt from its roots and torqued the knots of my stomach.
Rodrigo was convinced something disastrous had just taken place inland. "What about those hundreds of families still on the way?"
I agreed. The embarkation was going well, but the vast proportion of people had yet to reach the cave. We dashed out of the cave and up the staircase to the cliff top, to see what had happened.
The air was heavy, the sky deathly dull. People no longer walked along the worn path through the forest, they ran.
"The east is aflame!" cried one.
"The heavens are falling!" insisted another.
As none of them could have seen beyond the forest, we chose to jog on and observe for ourselves what had taken place.
A grey shroud descended over the forest roof.
"Don't go that way!" urged a young father holding his child. "For your lives' sakes, don't go that way!"
When I looked up, the vista struck me still. None of the warnings had been exaggerated. The heavens had indeed fallen, the east was indeed aflame, and the highest peak of the mountain range had just erupted its full volcanic fury.
Chapter 21
A bulbous dust cloud plumed thousands of feet from the volcano, here and there slashed by flaming streaks, fireballs wrenched forth from the bowels of the earth. Wherever these missiles landed, fire erupted. Soon, a score of infernos littered the countryside. Rodrigo assured me these projectiles were lava bombs, super-hot chunks of fiery rock, among the deadliest weapons in a volcano's arsenal, and that, despite being many miles from the funnel, we were still in range.
"All those poor..." A horrid realization hit me before I could finish. I sank to my knees, crushed, gasping for oxygen. Somehow in the midst of the furor, I had forgotten all about the Queen, Chasca Quilla! That the vast majority of the population had likely been rent apart mattered surprisingly little to me; in the heat of survival, one's circle of family and friends takes on more importance than a billion strangers. I had only known Chasca Quilla for a few days and wished we had been closer, yet the thought of her having been taken to her death by force appalled me. She ought to have sailed with her son.
Suddenly, being annihilated by an eruption seemed too easy an end for her husband, Vichama Supay, whom I now imagined beneath my fists as I pounded the dry soil. The expletives I spewed rivaled in heat anything hurled up by the volcano. Only the thought of poor Puma Pawq'ar leading the fleet out of harbor--at once orphaned and crowned, the last of a royal bloodline--stopped me. Had he secretly hoped to take his mother with him? Had they planned to sneak out one night and sail away together in defiance of the Kamachej?
Certainly that would not have surprised me. But there had always been respect in the Queen's words for her husband. Perhaps she acquiesced to his plan through a sense of duty, of loyalty, or even to unfetter the rest of us from his misguided rule.
The volcano pumped an inexhaustible supply of ash into the atmosphere. As the grey sky grew darker and what appeared as gentle snowflakes began to fall, I could bring no comparable weather experience to mind. In minutes, fertile Apterona was a bowl of charred pipe weed, the heavens above a ceiling of poisonous tobacco fumes.
No sooner had Rodrigo suggested we head back to the fleet when K'achita flung herself into his arms. She was breathless after having chased us through the forest. Pacal Votan and the old time-traveler followed close by, shouting for us to return with all haste.
"What are you thinking, you crazy future men?" she snarled. "Are things not desperate enough without you running toward danger?"
"You thought the volcano needed a head start?" added the old man.
"Or you forgot that your friends would never leave you behind," said Pacal.
"Steady on. We're coming, but we had to see this for ourselves," I answered, not convincing them for a second.
"He's right," said Rodrigo, "it was all his idea."
Our attentions switched to a trail forming in the tall grass ahead. Something approached. It was too small to be a man, too large to ignore. As we turned to flee, K'achita stopped us. Her sharp features softened with a maternal glow. The tiny figure of a girl emerged, crying, ghostly in the premature dusk. The old time-traveler was the first to rush over and comfort her. His reassurance that everything would soon be back to normal appeared to calm the girl, yet hit me for a six. I do believe it was the only lie ever to escape the old man's lips. Lifting the child to his shoulders, he led us back down the forest path with redoubtable vigor.
A torrent of hopes and horrors spun my mind as I tried to keep pace with the others along the river bank. Dying firelight checkpoints hinted at our route. The men stationed thereabouts had vanished, wisely seeking the next available ship. I wondered how many vessels had left the cove. How long would the voyage take? What would our new destination be like?
I glanced at the water. A small whirlpool had formed in the center of the river. It quickly grew. The water level was falling at a rapid rate. What the hell? I halted. Back-stepping into Rodrigo, I watched in horror as the ground heaved beneath us. I tried to keep my balance. The water course ripped apart a few meters ahead...into a widening chasm! As I clutched at Rodrigo, a violent tremor hurled me sideways into the river. Water shot up my nostrils. I was only a few strokes from the bank but the counter-current was incredible. It fed into the chasm.
All I heard was a deafening thunder as I swam the most powerful front crawl of my life. No use. The current was pushing me back. I shouted for help. In the corner of my eye I saw Pacal holding Rodrigo as he leaned out over the water's edge, no more than ten feet behind.
Rodrigo yelled, "Baz, forget swimming upstream. Make for the side."
Oh my God.
I knew that if he didn't catch me I would be sucked into the chasm. Despite a desperate sideways lunge, I lost ten feet to the current. A strong hand gripped my outstretched forearm. Water piled over m
e as Rodrigo dragged me to the side. Pacal pulled me out. I went to lie down at the river's edge while I coughed up water, but Rodrigo lifted me to my feet.
He pointed ahead.
A momentous obstacle still lay in our path. The chasm, which stretched far into the forest on either side, was growing. K'achita and the old man were on the far side; Rodrigo, Pacal and I were stranded inland.
Our eyes darted feverishly about, seeking some means of getting across. We had no other chance of reaching the fleet.
"There!" cried Rodrigo, pointing to a twisted cable of entwined lianas to our right. It looked neither sturdy nor sufficient, but he sprinted to it nonetheless. My heart wrenched to see him trying for such a futile bridge.
"No, Rodrigo!" I screamed. "It won't hold!"
K'achita waited, every few seconds forced to shuffle back as the ground crumbled before her feet. Her man was almost across the vine when an almighty shock ripped the bridge free from her side. Rodrigo hurled himself across.
A cascade of earth, foliage, rocks and water broke away from the opposite edge and plunged from sight. The old man flung the little girl away, but in doing so lost his footing and plummeted into the abyss.
I looked across at Rodrigo. With twenty feet between us, there was no way to reach him. I searched the crevasse once again but found it hopeless.
"It's no use!" insisted Pacal, grabbing me by the shoulders.
Rodrigo didn't dally. Pointing to his wrist and then to the south coast, his instruction for us was clear. His final wave farewell hit me like a blunt club to the stomach. The exchange was over with so fast, I barely had time to wave back. But in that moment, I knew I would never see him again.
My last memory of Rodrigo is of him ushering K'achita from the brink and of her kneeling to lift the lost little girl to her shoulders. As the world caved in about them, their protective instincts proved indomitable. Could God be so callous as to prevent their escape? He undoubtedly tried. I like to think that as the dust rose to blind us from their flight, Rodrigo and K'achita conquered every obstacle on their way to the ocean, to the fleet we were now forced to abandon.
The Basingstoke Chronicles Page 17
