The Ways Between Worlds: Peter Cooper

by Larry E. Clarke

  "Lets move" I shouted and set off at a run without pausing to see if the others followed. We crossed the chamber and ascend once again along the left stairs. On the third level two sentries blocked our path. My bolt took one in the neck. A bolt from behind me stuck the other through the eye. Neither went down immediately. As one swung a short blade which I instinctively blocked with the coil of rope. The thick strands stopped the edge of the blade but did not lessen the force the blow. It may have broken my shoulder. We rushed on with the sounds of gathering pursuit now coming from above and below.

  The rest of the third level appeared to be a food preparation and mess area and was passed uneventfully. The defenders must have selected the higher levels for sleeping quarters.

  Racing toward the forth level the men to either side me fell, each with a javelin in his chest. Our crossbowmen returned fire killing one Ixtet and wounding another so badly he dropped easily beneath a rain of blows from axes and swords.

  Our company was reduced to eight. Thus far we had accomplished nothing. Thark-rat and the defenders of this place surely outnumbered us many times over. Not a single member of the force waiting outside had gained admission to the Keep. It seemed those who argued for an attack through the tunnel in force were about to be proven right.

  As the ramp opened onto the gallery of the forth floor we were suddenly trapped. A large force of Ixtet were closing behind us and the way ahead was blocked by those descending from above. Now it was we who would be cut down between two forces. I felt remarkably calm as scanned the area a place to make a stand. We would take as many Ixtet as possible with us.

  Each floor of the Keep below had been the same layout. A circular large hall where the ramps met and across from this area an interior space divided into rooms of varying sizes and functions.

  On this level two statues stood beside an ornate metal door on either side of which oil lamps flickered and smoked in their stone sconces. Two Ixtet stood guard. Our force of 8 now turned and attacked the only group of Ixtet we outnumbered. Dhars hacked at the one left of the door. While I sliped below a vicious cut which would have taken my head off. . .and drove the pointed end of my axe handle upward through what passed for the Ixtet's chin. At our backs the two Ixtet forces were on us.

  I fingered the oversized handle, worked the door latch, and flung it open enough to allow us to scurry inside. One of the party was cut down before she could slid through. The rest immediately held the door and began a barricade. The double door was made to swing inward. Large "D" shaped handles proturded from each door. Through these we slid first a broken crossbow then an axe handle finally our last remaining spear. Outside the Ixtet worked frantically to break in behind us. Their clicking and whining reached a frenzied pitch but the doors were massive and they held. Those who had pressed shoulders to keep them closed stepped back as a heavy cabinet was overturned to more securely block them.

  Until the Bugs could come up with something to ram the doors they would not get inside. All had a moment to draw a deep breath and survey our surroundings. Light from a narrow window in the far wall suggested it was just sunrise outside. To the right of the door was a large table laden with papers and what may have been foodstuffs.

  In the center of the room was canopy of silk rising and spreading like some fantastic tent to occupy a good third of the floor space. It stretched from floor to ceiling without a seam. The material was dry to the touch, a finer version of the filaments usually found lining the sleeping holes of the common Ixtet guards. It was finer by far than that of the cocoon sheds where Dhars' and I had first taken refuge. It smelled like flowers gone slightly bad. Oil lamps burned on stands a few feet to either side. I stepped forward and lifted one from the stand to have a closer look. From the corridor the near ultrasonic squeaks of the Ixtet swelled.

  "Human!. . .human!. . .stay your hand!. . .we surrender" came the urgent Ixtet voice. "Burn not the web of our future queens. We will do whatever you wish".

  For a long moment I didn't know how to respond. I motioned the nearest survivor to my side "Hold this lamp, you know what to do if the Ixtet do not act in good faith" I said in a voice loud enough to be heard in the corridor.

  I stepped quickly to the door. One eye and a portion of mandible from one of a taller than average Ixtet were visible through the small crack.

  "Hold human. We are defeated" he chirrped out as I approached. "Queen Thark-rat has given her life and her body that two new queens might be born. Without them we die and all the Ixtet with us. Spare them and all else is yours."

  "They will be spared if you surrender completely" I shot back. "Otherwise we shall all burn together. Tell the others to leave their weapons in the corridor and assemble on the lowest floor. Empty everyone from the other levels. You alone may remain on this floor. Someone will come out to deal with you and to decide if you have truly complied. Now go and do exactly as I have commanded if you wish to save your queens."

  He turned and began squealing to the Ixtet packing the corridor outside. Immediately there were sounds of weapons falling to the floor and of movement toward the ramps.

  In half the time I had allotted the tall Ixtet with a discolored "scar" in the exo-skeleton above his/her eye returned to announce "Your commands have been carried out".

  Four stood by with crossbows at the ready. Dhars waited near the door with a spear and one other stood by the cocoons with oil lamps. Dhars assisted as we inched the large cabinet back from the door. I drew out the crossbow, spear and axe handle holding the doors and began to step out. At the last instant I reached back inside to collect the coil of rope from the floor.

  "Step back to the other side of the room" I commanded. I could hear him move away. I looked into the corridor and saw a single Ixtet standing silently in the most distant part of the ante-room.

  I slipped between the massive doors then strode forward displaying as much false bravado as I could muster. Instead of turning toward the lowest level where the others had assembled I motioned for him to follow me. "Come" I ordered. We mounted the ramp to the next level and immediately pressed on to the roof level beyond. As we approached the door I could see that the bolt was secured with another lock half the size of my head.

  "Open it I barked". As I stepped back S/he moved forward, drawing from a cloth pouch suspended beneath an arm, a wad of 5 or 6 huge keys. The Ixtet examined all, then selected one which it rammed into the lock. The door opened outward to where circular battlement rimmed the roof of the Keep.

  "Wait here." told it. I moved to the edge of battlement. Across the salt a thin sliver of sun pushed its way above the horizon and into my dark adapted eyes. I squinted and rubbed them with the back of my hand. The blacks, greys, and blues of pre-dawn were quickly being replaced by such colors as there were in this stink hole. Above the kitchen area the smoke from the cooking/distilling fires rose and dissipated in the morning air. In the courtyard below nothing moved.

  I looped the rope around one of the crenellations in the battlements and secured it with knots I'd learned aboard the Dumpling. My impulse was to fling the entire coil over the edge. Instead took time to carefully uncoil and lower the free end making sure it did not tangle part way down. When I could see it at ground level I called out.

  "Dhalia, send up two vann of your best climbers. The rest must stand by."

  Within seconds two groups sprinted to the bottom of the rope and began to ascend. The ropes were untried so I called down for them not to put more than 4 on the rope at once.

  I peeked over the edge as the first climber approached. He tipped his head back and looked me full in the face. It was Soltan! I reached down and helped draw him him over the edge. Then without pausing to wonder why I embraced him like a beloved and long lost brother or father. Tears of joy, of relief at being alive, mixed with the unspeakable delight of seeing one more time a familiar human face. Just ten minutes before I had despaired of seeing anyone I knew again.

  Within minutes two Vann stood assembled atop the
Keep. There was cheering below as the last clambered over the battlements. I quickly outlined what had happened and ordered the first vann to search every room here before joining up with those below. The second vann would accompany me.

  Although I had advised them of its presence my companions jumped the sight of the Ixtet as I opened the door to the interior. Seeing that s/he did not attack their confidence quickly returned. My party hastened down two levels where I paused just long enough to let those inside know what had happened. I posted reinforcements and repeated to those inside and out that on my word there was to be no harm to the cocoon or the Ixtet guardians unless they violated their surrender.

  With my Ixtet aide de camp I descended to the next level that also proved to be vacant. On my orders the draw bridge was unlocked and lowered. I stepped out and called to advise Alexia her remaining forces could approach. She barked out the orders and moments later led the waiting troops up the approach, across the top of the wall and onto the drawbridge.

  I met her as she stepped into the Keep and explained the situation. She heard how the Ixtet had surrendered on my word that their Queens-to-be would not be harmed. She nodded understanding and then embraced me. It was an embrace much like a mother might give a child.

  Fifteen minutes later the Ixtet to the lower levels had been sent under heavy guard to one of the holding pens formerly occupied by their slaves. Six had remained behind to tend the chamber of the Queens.

  Dhars and the 5 of the original party who remained had been relieved and reassembled on the wall overlooking the courtyard. Alexia assembled the troops below. She began to speak slowly. She told them how the party had entered the passage, how many had died entering the Keep, and how more had perished inside. Their sorrow at the loss was palpable. Her voice filled with obvious pride as she described the exploits and heroism of the 50 who had been the salvation of them all. The assembly, soldiers and former slaves alike, cheered until they were hoarse.

  Her voice softened as she continued: "Never again will the Ixtet plague the citizens of this place. Never again will their foul kind prey on the decent beings of this world. Neither you nor your comrades will suffer or spill your blood on their account. If you look behind me you will see the smoke marking the spot where their evil grubs are burning. Those taken to pits now lie buried under a blanket of collapsed salt deeper than these fortress walls. Their hell-spawning Queens and their attendants are now chopped to pieces by your brothers in arms."

  They cheered.

  My gut hurt. I had that sick feeling, the kind most who live long enough come to know and can never forget. . .that feeling that something has gone terribly wrong which can never be put right. . .that feeling of failing to anticipate or avoid the thing one wanted most to avoid. . .that feeling of betraying one's values in a way which could not be repaired.

  A glance at Dhars told me what I wanted to know, that he felt much as I did. I left the wall, made my way, half aware, through the throng of celebrants and well-wishers. I had to get away, to be alone somewhere, anywhere. Without thinking about why I turned toward the salt basin that served as harbor. A few moments later I was climbing aboard the Dumpling. It had changed little. The dry desert air was the environment she was built for.

  Two hours later Dhars and Lady Camille found me. We talked till near dawn the next day before exhaustion claimed us and we fell asleep in the same bunks we had occupied as passengers sailing out from Cstlana.

  --------------------

  Twelve days later the Dumpling, the remains of the Threatan fleet, and two vessels that had been captured before us were repaired, re-provisioned, and ready to sail. Two of the captured vessles, the “Wind Weasel” and the “Mother of Mercy” would sail east crewed by those eager to return to homes and families. The Dumpling and the remains of the Threatan Fleet would continue West. At dawn a crowd assembled to send us off.

  When the Threatan commanders gave the orders to get underway those remaining behind cheered again and then broke into an old song of farwell. The arrival of the Thretans had marked the beginning of liberation for those held as slaves.

  Wood creaked against wood, sails unfurled and filled with the morning breeze and my ears filled with the steady squeak of runners slipping over salt. We had ridden here on that sound and now it was now carrying us away.

  Three hours later the rocky spine of Voquira was slowly diminishing astern. My thoughts were of how the place we were leaving behind differed from the hell hole at which we had arrived. First there was the total annihilation of the Ixtet, which I could still not accept despite Alexia's efforts to explain why it had been absolutely necessary. We had been over it many times. She had tired to show me why she could not have freed them, why neither her troops nor the former slaves would have tolerated it, why they would only have moved on to continue enslaving other races as was their way.

  On the positive side there were no more slaves. Those who remained did so freely. Some had nowhere else to go and no one else to go to. Some saw a chance for a fortune in the lucrative trade of the mines. Mine resources would be held in common with each receiving a share proportional to the work they added.

  Artisans, cooks, healers, and others who did not work directly in the mine would be paid in local currency. Stashed away in the Keep had been several fortunes in precious metals and jewels. These were divided among all according to their years in the mines. There was enough for even the newer arrivals to securely retire in most parts of the planet. Those staying had the option of taking immediate physical custody of all or any part of their portion or designating it to be sold on consignment in the Threatan capitol. The proceeds would then be used to buy such goods as the owners had requested for return shipment. Thus trade was immediately opened between the Threatan capital and Voquira.

  A special currency of stamped steel disks would be used in Voquira itself. Those staying would begin with a Du-vann (244) of these. Each one represented about one hour's work in the mines. When they were scraped together they made a sound slightly reminiscent of the Ixtet. Noting this, those running the mint had suggested that the image of an Ixtet be stamped on each as a reminder of what they had endured before their collective action had lead to self governance. The coins would even be called "Ixtet" after the now potentially extinct captors.

  Those too old and infirm to work would receive a pension of 5/6th of the number of "Ixtet" a man might make working full time.

  A council of 12 would hear disputes and set community rules. Tie votes would be decided by vote of the entire community. Each member would serve but two cycles. When one died or when a term expired successors would be chosen by lot from those willing to serve. Those to serve first counsel would have staggered terms. Eventually seats would be replaced one at a time for the sake of continuity.

  If it worked as it was designed, life could be good at Voquira. I wondered what I would find if I were to return to this place in 5 years. Those musings were interrupted when Lady Camille called for me to come visit and scratch her ears. Perhaps, some day, we would pass this way again.

  CHAPTER 31

  At dawn of the twenty-sixth day the look out sang down from the crows nest announcing: "Exile Rocks ahead". A heightened sense of excitement ran throughout the vessel as we approached.

  Dhars, Camille and I had just coming off the fourth (midnight to dawn) watch when we heard the lookout’s call. We paused on our way to the mess, our curiosity about the rocks temporarily overriding our need for food. They were, just visible through light haze, about 15 degrees off the port bow, a low gray mass catching just enough light from the sun rising behind us to be visible.

  We paused together at the rail. Behind us lay nearly three thousand kilometers of salt. The wreckage of one vessel--abandoned on a rocky shoal--and the bodies of six crewmen. Ahead lay the Threatan homeland, safety, home, hearth and family for our shipmates. For those who set out from Monton that spring morning so long ago it was to be another milestone in a long journey. Standing with my co
mpanions I recalled each chapter of the journey, the moments of joy and triumph as well as the times of biting sadness and nearly overwhelming despair. In the course of that journey many friends and companions had died. The bonds among those of us who survived had deepened enormously.

  Alexia had told of Exile Rocks well before they were actually sighted. Like yet another landlocked Gibraltar they rose silent and massive from the salt, a fabled place, at the heart of many an old tale. Unlike Voquira not all those tales were dark ones. One of the best-known stories told of a king who made them the place of exile for a wife whom he had accused of being unfaithful. After a year and a day he returned to repatriate her bones. Instead he found a living woman more beautiful than ever. Enchanted, he threw himself at her feet and begged forgiveness. She acceded on the condition that he spend a vann (12 days) alone there himself so he might better understand the bitterness of her exile. When the flagship and the Queen returned twelve days later the King’s corpse was there, an apparent victim of thirst and the elements. His Queen ruled on for many years. Supporters told tales of how in the year of exile tiny animals, drawn by her innocence and great goodness had brought her food and water. Skeptics whispered suspicions that the lover may have aided the Queen’s survival and likewise the king's demise. None spoke such thoughts aloud or in the presence of her majesty. Now notions or royalty were largely history. Threat was ruled by an elected council composed largely of merchants, military members and scientists.

  By the time we had eaten, slept and returned to deck the rocks were far astern but were still clearly visible. They rose like a half dozen slanted mountains. Unlike the dead black of Voquira these rocks showed signs of life. Flying creatures circles from nests in the rock face. The rock itself was stained by the droppings of the flyers. Here and there a small bush or shrub sprouted in a low spot where the thin soil had been seeded by bird droppings. For those lucky seeds the rocks themselves formed mini watersheds to funnel the condensed mists and occasional rain toward them. The generally dark rock varied from black to dark brown with occasional streaks of milky white. Glints from the milky areas suggested they might have been veins of quartz. The stratified layers may once have lain flat as part of the sea floor but now had been thrust upward at similar angles.