The Humanarium

by CW Tickner

  Harl gasped. He was still gripping the thing’s head in his hands, his fingers sunk into its black, faceted eyes. But there was no movement in it any more, no sign of life. Holding his breath, he rolled the head aside and used one foot to kick the creature over. He stared at it, numb from shock as the legs crumpled up like a dead fly, and then rolled his eyes up to where Sonora towered over him, sword humming in a two-handed grip. Her eyes were on fire, her face twisted into a feral snarl.

  She drew a deep breath and lowered the blade.

  ‘You’ve saved my life twice now,’ he said, standing. He kicked the creature and its abdomen tore away, spewing yellow blood as it rolled across the dirt.

  Sonora looked down at the sword, wide-eyed as if horrified by her own actions. She shuddered and then grimaced as she tried to wipe the creature’s blood from her face with the back of one hand, but only succeeded in smearing the gore. She looked daemonic with the blood coating her. Her eyes had a feral look to them, like a cornered predator, but she seemed calmer than she ever had. A feeling of power radiated from her, and yet the pity and regret of what she’d done was etched across her face. In a strange way it made him love her even more.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll have a chance to repay me,’ she said.

  She offered her hand to help pull him up, but then her head snapped up and she spun on the spot, slicing the sword down in an arc as another one of the creatures pounced. She severed it in two as more of the croaking shrieks erupted from the giant stalks where the creature had first emerged.

  ‘Quick!’ she yelled, ‘I don’t think we can kill a group of them.’

  Harl snatched the bags and bow off the ground, then sprinted for the thick stalks on the opposite side of the clearing. Bursting into the first wave of grasses, he ducked low as the canopy above them shifted with the bodies of half a dozen more monsters as they scuttled across the tops of the grasses to reach them. Moments later they broke through and crashed to the ground, hissing as they scurried after him and Sonora.

  Sonora stumbled and let go of the sword as the closest monster spread its stubby wings, lurched into the air, and then flew on to her back.

  Harl roared and kicked the beast off her, but Sonora overbalanced and landed flat on her front, sprawled in the dirt. He grabbed her hand and tugged her up, then snatched the sword up off the ground with his free hand, and threw the scabbard aside as he swung the blade around towards the beast as it pounced. The ancient steel sliced clean through its head, jarring his arm as the body rolled in mid-air and crumpled to the ground.

  The stalks wobbled and another monster lurched towards them, launching itself off the stalks one by one, as it closed the gap.

  ‘Go!’ Harl shouted, turning to face the creature in the hope that he could buy Sonora time to get away.

  But there was not enough time. The monster launched itself into the air from halfway up a stalk and then plummeted down towards him.

  Harl rolled onto his back and then kicked out at the last moment to send the creature tumbling away. It crashed to the ground and hissed as it twisted around, trying to get its feet under it, but Harl jumped up and plunged his sword down into the writhing tangle of limbs and wings before it could react. He looked around frantic, expecting the rest of the creatures to rush him, but they were still far behind them. He waited a moment to be sure, then spun and raced after Sonora.

  He just prayed that she was still alive.

  Chapter 26

  The micro tools, vehicles and plant species that I recovered in and around their nest will open entire new areas of research in nano-machines and microbiology.

  Harl found Sonora in a small clearing next to a giant log. She was bent over double, catching her breath, and relief flooded her face when he came crashing through the grasses. The clearing was bare other than the log. To a god it must have been a mere stick, but to Harl it was as thick as a felled pine tree.

  ‘There might be more,’ he said. ‘We should get as far from here as we can.’

  Cautious to make as little noise as possible, they crept between the stalks and smaller clumps of foliage in the hope that they could avoid any more of the giant insects.

  Unfamiliar noises peppered the alien forest. Small clicks, chirps and rustlings filled the air around them and seemed to echo up out of dark holes bored in the ground. Some of the holes were big enough for a man to climb down and Harl dreaded the thought of what might be down there. Each time they came close to one he would steer their path away from it just in case.

  The grass stalks became more and more oppressive as they threaded their way through the forest. Dozens of stems curled overhead to form a canopy ten paces above them. Sometimes the stalks grew so close together that they had to cut through them with the sword. It was dangerous and tiring work

  ‘It feels like there could be anything hidden in here,’ Sonora said. ‘It’s so close it makes me feel trapped.’

  ‘Reminds me of the mines,’ Harl said, remembering the tightness of the enclosed tunnels. He pulled an arrow on to the string and held it ready by his side. ‘I want to be far away from those critters before we rest up.’

  They glimpsed the sun rarely as they walked along. The grass stalks cut out most of the light to leave everything coated by a deep layer of shadows. The wind would rustle the grass forest around them and slanting beams of sunlight would break through. They would give life to the shadowed world around them in ways that Harl had never imagined. Dewdrops sparkled on the ground and tiny rocks gleamed with vibrant colour where they peeked up above the soil. There was a richness to the scent around them that filled Harl with a sense of wonder. It was as though this endless sunlit world was revealing a fresh magnitude of sight and sounds that he had never experienced.

  They kept walking deeper into the grass, constantly checking behind them. Eventually the odd little rustles and distant calls became normal and the dense grass thinned until they were standing in a small clearing. The light was warming, making everything feel alive. Bird and animal calls filled the air, but even the wind had fresh vigour out here. It had only ever been a muted whisper in the tanks.

  He glimpsed a dark crevice between a mass of large boulders and soil. The entire mound was ten strides high and coated in a thick tangle of maroon moss. The vibrant moss was held together by a framework of thick roots coiling down between the rocks from the giant grasses above.

  A small puddle of water lay nearby and Harl knelt next to it, checking for tracks.

  ‘Nothing’s been here recently,’ he said. He stood and tried to peer into the dark opening where roots curved into the hole from outside. It looked as if it opened out into a wider space further in. ‘We can stay here if it’s safe inside.’

  ‘Check now while it’s still light,’ Sonora said, plucking some of the moss from the mound and inspecting it.

  ‘Who’s to say if the light goes out here?’ Harl asked.

  He thought of the sun’s warmth never leaving. Even though it was pleasant, at times it could be too much. He had spent most of the time trekking through the grasses in a heavy sweat and longed for the cooler climate he’d known inside the tank.

  He drew his sword and approached the dark opening. Now that he was closer, he could see that it led to a cave. The walls were rocky, rather than just packed earth, and covered in thick roots that ran back inside. The weapon hummed loudly as he activated it and held its point out to as if to threaten the darkness ahead.

  Every muscle in his body was tensed for action.

  ‘Hello?’ he said.

  Animal sounds and the rustle of wind still came from around them in the dense forest, but only silence left the hole. He took a deep breath as he started to step into the darkness, but then stopped.

  Reaching into the satchel, he pulled out a small bottle of the fire liquid that Gorman had insisted they take and poured it onto the end of a stick. He stowed the empty bottle and used his flint and steel to shower sparks down over the stick. The tip blossomed into a bright y
ellow flame and the darkness retreated as he held it out in front of him. Sword ready in his other hand, he ducked under the overhanging roots that ran along the roof and stepped inside.

  The roots stretched twenty paces to the back of the cave where they ended in a gnarled twist of knots. Dry leaves coated the dirt floor.

  ‘It’s safe!’ he called back to Sonora. His voice echoed inside the cave.

  He turned to leave and the old twigs and dried leaves crunched under his feet. The place was damp and empty. His torch flickered as a gust of wind blew in from outside and, in the shifting light, he noticed something on one of the walls.

  ‘Sonora?’

  ‘Are you alright?’ she asked from the entrance.

  ‘You have to see this,’ he said, holding the torch up against the wall to get a better look.

  She came to stand beside him, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the stone.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ she said.

  A collection of drawings were etched into the soft rock on one wall of the cave. Strange symbols and pictures of men and women were drawn all over it, as though someone had returned, time and again, to flesh out whatever story was being told. There were humans running from creatures flying high in the air and, in other places, groups of people had surrounded monstrous things on the ground and were killing them. Axes, knives, spears, and arrows peppered the scenes in the hands of the humans, but it was the maroon paint that both horrified and fascinated Harl. It looked like blood.

  ‘Amazing,’ Sonora said as she reached out a hand to feel the grooves. ‘So there were people here once.’

  She picked at a symbol and pulled out a pinch of lichen. She sniffed it and then rolled it between her fingers.

  ‘These are old,’ she said, looking up at one of the largest murals. ‘This lichen takes a whole childhood to grow.’

  The mural showed three men holding up what Harl assumed to be open books. The book in the third man’s hand had been deliberately scratched out.

  ‘What do you think of this?’ Harl said, pointing to the defaced image.

  Sonora moved his arm so that the torch shone on it more clearly.

  ‘The scratches are recent,’ she said. ‘There’s no lichen growth covering them so it means someone’s been here within our lifetime.’

  Thinking of books made something connect in Harl’s memory.

  ‘I’ve seen these symbols before,’ he said. ‘They’re the same as some of the symbols in Gorman’s book.’

  ‘Does the book say what the symbols mean?’ Sonora asked.

  Harl shook his head. ‘No. At least not that I can find. I don’t even know what some of the words mean.’ He handed Sonora the torch and then slid his pack off. It took him a moment to find Gorman’s book, but then he flicked through the pages until he found the right one. ‘See just here? Those are the same symbols, right next to where it says “printed circuit board”. But what is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sonora said, looking at the symbols neatly stamped on the paper.

  ‘Perhaps the people who drew these on the wall are connected to the book somehow?’ Harl said. ‘It would make sense after what Gorman told us. It means there might be people living in this region.’

  ‘I doubt there are any left,’ Sonora said. ‘The pictures are far too old.’

  ‘But some of them could be more recent,’ he said. ‘So there’s a chance.’

  Sonora shrugged and handed him the torch.

  Harl’s stomach gave an audible groan.

  Sonora chuckled.

  ‘Maybe there’s a vendor nearby that sells food,’ she said.

  Harl laughed. ‘I’ll rustle a fire up.’

  He gathered some dry, shredded grass from the ground and piled it into a small fire just outside the cave entrance. Water was soon boiling away and Sonora began to prepare a small stew.

  After a time, it began to grow cold. Harl looked up, wondering why the temperature had dropped and noticed that the sun had shifted from its place in the sky to fall behind the tips of the tall grass.

  ‘It moves,’ he said to Sonora.

  She looked up from the stew.

  ‘The blue is changing as well,’ she said. ‘It’s a different hue than earlier.’

  ‘This place is strange,’ he said.

  Once the stew had been cooked, Sonora handed him a bowlful and they both leant back against the soft mossy boulders and stared up.

  Fear grew in Harl as the colours above shifted. The endless blue grew darker until it disappeared altogether in a fiery wash of yellow and orange hues. The colours streaked high above their heads as though the roof of this world had been set aflame. And yet with each passing moment the light faded away.

  ‘I don’t understand this world,’ Harl said. ‘Why does it get colder when the sky turns the colour of fire? Surely it should get hotter.’

  ‘Gorman would’ve known,’ Sonora said.

  It hurt Harl to hear the hollow loss in her words.

  ‘I miss him too,’ he said. ‘He knew more than anyone I ever met. Not that Troy was a bastion of knowledge.’

  ‘You miss Troy in the same way?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘Growing up with him was an adventure.’

  He pulled her closer to him and they snuggled down together by the fire, keeping each other warm as darkness crept between the stalks. The shadows spread into the clearing like the blacking disease, enclosing them in a sphere of firelight.

  Sonora shifted and looked up from the fire.

  ‘Harl!’ she said, shaking him and pointing to the sky.

  He almost jumped up ready to fight, but she clutched him tight as she continued to stare upwards.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

  Harl looked up. The darkness was lit by thousands of tiny lights shimmering down at them from far away in the distance. They were everywhere, tiny and mesmerising, twinkling points in the endless dark. His breath caught in his throat at the sight and he relaxed. It was beautiful, enchanting, like a tale spun by a toothless elder, but this was real. All of his fears melted away and they gazed up at the display as the fire crackled and danced next to them, happy to wonder in silence at the surreal sight.

  Eventually he spoke.

  ‘Do you think they’re placed there so we can know there is a roof to this world?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Sonora said, doubtful. ‘Perhaps the sun divides and becomes whole again after it has rested? Even a fire must go out eventually and so maybe it must rest before it comes back again.’

  ‘Don’t know of any fire that springs to life again,’ he said. ‘Maybe it’s both.’

  They chatted long into the dark cycle about what the lights might be until, eventually, they snuggled into the dry moss just inside the cave and let sleep take them. It didn’t matter about the where they were or what they might face on the next cycle. They were safe.

  They had each other.

  Chapter 27

  I have succumbed to illness and write this from a hospital bed. I will be discharged this evening and book an operation for a return visit.

  Harl awoke perplexed to see that light was slanting in from one side of the world. He didn’t wake Sonora; she was in a deep, restful sleep beside what remained of the fire, its embers buried in ash. Instead, he stood up and glanced at where the light was creeping across the roof of the world.

  It was strange to watch light growing across the world. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was like watching a dying fire in reverse. Instead of the light falling away as it had on the previous cycle, the soft glow spread across the sky and intensified. After a short while he saw that it was coming from the sun, which climbed above the horizon of grass stalks and swept up into the sky like some fiery chariot. The light became brighter as the darkness transformed into the same dome of scintillating blue that it had been on the previous cycle. But there was no roof and no strip of light above him, just that ball of fire and the infinite sense
of blue.

  Noises perked up from the stalks around them, chirruping sounds he associated with strange animals laying claim to territory at the start of a new cycle. He had expected the ground to be wet from the dark cycle’s rain, but there was no water except a thin sheen of mist that coiled over the carpet of fallen leaves. He swept his foot through it, not sure what to expect, but soon gave up and stopped to check their equipment and supplies.

  It was all there, the ranged weapon Gorman had given them, the book, fire liquid, and enough food for about two more cycles. He fingered the pouch of salt for preserving food and began to worry about how they would find any out here. Did he have to dig for salt and metal? The god had always provided things like that in his world. How would they cope in this strange land? Perhaps there would be boulders like the one in the quarry and he’d be forced to dig his own tunnels through them.

  ‘Is there enough?’ Sonora asked from where she lay propped up on an elbow next to the fire, his grey cloak still wrapped around her.

  ‘We’ll need to gather more,’ he said, wondering how long they could last without a proper source of food. ‘I’ll see what game there is to hunt nearby. Can you get our packs ready?’

  She nodded as he grabbed his bow and then eyed the thicker part of the grass forest where the most noise had come from earlier.

  ‘How will you find your way back?’ she asked.

  ‘I won’t go far. Call out loud if you need me,’ he said as he ducked out from the overhanging rock.

  ’Perhaps you should call out if you need me.’

  He laughed and began weaving between the thick stalks, scanning the dense forest.

  The sounds of Sonora gathering their supplies together faded as he walked a small circle about forty paces into the forest, making sure to keep the camp to his left.

  He stopped when a faint scrabbling came from behind a tight clump of stalks. He hunched over and crept towards it. The noise grew louder until, as he slipped between two trunks, he spotted the source just a few strides away. It was a cow, but no ordinary cow as he knew them. It was covered from head to hoof in a long coat of thick, green-tinged hair. Two straight horns jutted from its head, tilting left and right as it cropped at a patch of damp moss. It was more the size of a calf than one of the milking heifers he was used to and its shaggy coat and small stature made it nearly invisible against the giant grass. If it hadn’t been for the sound of chomping he could have looked straight at it and not seen the animal.