by CW Tickner
When they arrived at the engine room they found a group of men in grubby white coats working away at open metal panels in the floor. Desks stood against the walls around the room. Each one had a panel of black glass covering the work surface. Etched lines divided the glass into different areas. Harl had no idea what it all meant, but ran his hand over one. It was smooth and he got the tantalising feeling that it held secrets. He smiled, realising for the first time why Kane was so enthusiastic about it all.
At the centre of the room, the roof and floor arched towards each other. A hemisphere of metal was bolted to the ceiling with a matching one reaching up to it from the floor. They were separated by a space barely large enough for two fingers. The whole construction reminded Harl of a giant metal hourglass.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘That’s where the energy should gather if we can start the ship,’ Kane said, ‘unless we’re missing an important component. The control panel on the base is where we think the Third Book will come in handy. Powering it on shows that it’s waiting for a code to be entered on the keypad. We’ve tried hundreds of combinations, but we’ve no clue what it might be. As you can see, there’s a glass cover next to it that protects a bank of labelled switches. The labels have long since faded, but we assume that the code will trigger the lock and slide the glass aside. Or something like that. We won’t know until we crack the code for the keypad.’
‘So you have power to make it work?’ Harl asked.
‘We can provide power via a cable from the cave system, but it only seems to supply this one unit. The rest of the ship remains dead. We installed the lighting ourselves and run it all off a separate cable from the city.’
They moved through more corridors towards the centre of the ship and came to a double door which Kane pushed apart. The room beyond was enormous. Kane walked inside and opened his arms wide as he turned back to face Harl.
‘This is the cargo area. We believe it’s the best place for everyone to stay during the journey, although there’s no telling how long that may be, or if we’ll get anywhere at all.’
Harl frowned and walked over to Kane. He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘I have no doubt of your ability to get the ship finished. You’ve achieved so much despite the odds. Now, with Gorman’s help, we’ve only a few steps left to tread before this ship flies again. I can only imagine what that day will be like, but I know that I’ll be proud to stand at your side.’
As Kane beamed in pride, his cheeks pushed his wire-rimmed glassed up at an odd angle over his eyebrows. Harl laughed and slapped Kane on the back, and then stepped back to take another look at the room. He tried to picture it bustling with refugees. It would be like cattle crammed into a pen.
‘If this is where people will live when we leave, then we must make it comfortable and equip it for a long stay. Stock it with as many provisions as we can spare, and set up partitions for families and supplies, but make sure everything is bolted in place. I don’t know if it will be a bumpy ride like the carts my pa drove into town, but we should take precautions anyway.’
Kane ’s eyes widened in admiration of Harl’s suggestion. He whipped out a small notepad and scribbled furiously, before sliding it back into his chest pocket.
‘I will see to it,’ he said. ‘We don’t really know what the trip will be like.’ He moved his hand through the air quickly to mimic a ship flying past. ‘The air offers so little resistance, but who knows what forces we may face?’
He looked around the chamber one more time and then turned back to face Harl. ‘We should move on. I could spend all day telling you about the ship’s operation, but perhaps the next room will give you a better idea of how it will all be controlled.’
Kane led Harl up a ladder to the corridor above and they entered a dark room with several seats arranged to face the window he’d seen from outside. Small glass-panelled workstations stood in front of each seat. They could be swivelled by turning the steel arm that connected them to the floor. Harl stepped towards the main window and tapped it with his knuckle. The glass had to be at least a hand thick.
Outside, half a dozen men carried a large container out of the hanger doors. They struggled to manoeuvre the container through the opening and wrestled with it until it tumbled through the gap.
Harl frowned and pressed himself up against the glass.
‘How will the ship get out?’ he asked as he peered from side to side.
‘Look up,’ Kane said, pointing out the top of the window. It curved back enough to give a glimpse of two enormous hinges in the hanger roof. ‘There are two trap doors above us which, when sealed and covered with soil, are nearly impossible to see. They open outwards and we hope that the hydraulics are strong enough to push the soil and rocks away. Ideally we would clean the rubble away first, but if we have to leave in a hurry we’ll just have to risk it.’
Kane walked to a central chair and caressed the screen in front of it. ‘We’ve not been able to get power to this room, but we believe these glass panels light up to display information.’
‘How do you steer the ship?’ Harl asked, thinking of the reins needed to guide an ox cart.
‘We don’t know yet,’ Kane said, sounding a little uneasy, ‘unless it’s done via one of these workstations; but we really don’t know until we try. When we get the power up we’ll perform a few test runs.’
‘Well,’ Harl said, ‘let’s hope we don’t have to leave in a hurry.’
Chapter 47
I have catalogued each seed and seedling. If these can be cross-bred with our larger species then a new branch of exotic flora will be opened up. Even if they cannot be cross pollinated the potential for new medicines means a vast separate income.
Harl returned to the Tactics Room and found Damen and Gorman in a heated discussion. They were standing beside the table debating the tactics needed in a battle against an Aylen.
‘They will have a weakness,’ Gorman said, tapping his stick on the floor. ‘It’s just a matter of identifying it before we engage them in battle. We must study them, somehow, with an eye to a conflict.’
‘We should strike first,’ Damen said, slamming his hand down onto the table, ‘and take them out before they come for us.’
Gorman frowned at the sudden noise then sighed. ‘Tell me, Damen son of Terman, how will you go about killing such a large creature with the weapons we have? Even a thousand men armed with rifles would fail.’
Damen raised a bushy eyebrow, causing his scar to crease. ‘We can’t just wait for them to find us.’
‘That’s exactly what we have to do,’ Gorman said. ‘This city has remained hidden for hundreds of years. Stealth has been our ally and until we can understand their physiology, we must be patient and prepare for what will come.’
‘You use long words, old man,’ Damen said, noticing Harl’s presence. ‘Haven’t you got a book to dictate?’
‘I do,’ Gorman said, as he headed for the door, stick waving in front, ‘and its got some very long words in it.’
Damen’s frown deepened as he watched the old man leave.
‘What is it?’ Harl said.
Damen sighed and turned round. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to make of the old man. He irritates me.’
Harl laughed. ‘Gorman’s a good man. Too intelligent for the rest of us, though, except maybe Kane. But he has a caring heart and every move he makes is for the good of others. I’ll admit his sense of humour does take some getting used to.’
Damen looked back at the door and grimaced. ‘I’ll figure it out if it’s the last thing I do.’
‘Figure what out?’ Harl asked. ‘Gorman’s sense of humour?’
‘How to kill an Aylen.’
‘I doubt it’ll fit on your trophy wall,’ Harl said, sliding the map on the table until it was straight.
‘Yara would never have it,’ Damen grunted. ‘She’d insist on a bigger home.’
Harl chuckled and then turned his full attentio
n to the map. At the centre of the huge sheet was a detailed plan of the inner caves and the myriad rooms and tunnels. Further out, squares denoted the houses beyond the mountain and a series of lines represented elevation changes in the surrounding forest.
‘How are things in the city? Harl asked.
Damen tapped a finger where a collection of new tunnels extended from the main cave section. ‘The plans are falling into place nicely. We’ve made arrangements to house any people we bring back from the tanks and training is progressing fast for the soldiers going with us.’
Harl rubbed his chin. ‘You’ve done well, but there’s one other topic I’d like to discuss. It would be best for Gorman, Sonora, and I to relocate within the caves, maybe have somewhere we can use as our own. We appreciate the stay in your house, and Yara has been a kind host, but it’s time we found our own home.’
‘Of course,’ Damen said. ‘Sonora’s been talking to Yara and they’re already making plans. She wants to help grow herbs at the farms, so a room closer to them would make life easier for her and -’ He broke into a grin. ‘- it would get the old man out from under my feet. Besides, Sonora is very knowing about plants. She helped me with a few personal problems which Yara has thanked her for.’ He reddened, not meeting Harl’s eye.
Harl knew that Sonora had been helping around the city while he was busy in his new role. Women would stop and present him with bunches of herbs and then give him polite orders to take them to Sonora immediately. Or a child would give him a gift of flowers in return for her help with a family problem. Men would chuckle when he passed them looking like a florist, but he was proud of all she had been doing.
Kane entered the room and came over to them. Two Enlightened were talking with him, but he dismissed them with orders to find Gorman and continue transcribing the book.
‘Progress?,’ Harl asked.
‘Lots,’ Kane said. ‘We’re close to figuring out how to start the ship. It’s only a matter of time.’
‘The usual story,’ Damen said.
Kane ignored the comment. ‘How are things away from electronics?’
‘Crowded,’ Harl said.
Kane seemed to understand and nodded as if deep in thought. ‘If you need a place to stay,’ he said, then you’re welcome to one of the old councilman’s chambers. Come, I will send for Sonora and we can go together.’
They met Sonora in one of the hallways. She was carrying a basket of herbs and scuttled around a corner towards them. Harl smiled at the sight of her. There was soil all over her dress and even some twigs in her long blonde hair.
‘Look!’ she cried as she ran up to him. ‘The gatherers have returned and they brought some wonderful herbs back. See this? It’s redwhelp. The leaves are so rare where we come from, but they’ve brought bundles and bundles home. They break even the most dangerous fever.’
Harl laughed. ‘That is good news.’
She fell in beside them. He told her where they were heading and she looped an arm through his and beamed as they pushed deeper into the tunnels.
Kane led them through the dim maze until they reached a compact, round chamber once used as an Enlightened wash room. A large engraving of the Third Book covered the wall. Kane pressed a section of the diagram and his finger pushed a small circle of plaster inwards. A door-sized section slid silently to the side to reveal another round room. It had barely any furniture inside, just one small table in the centre supporting a stack of books. The only things of interest were the half dozen doors lining the walls.
‘The council liked their privacy,’ Kane said as he watched Sonora pick up one of the tomes and flick through its pages, ‘so their personal chambers were hidden away. My own house is opposite,’ he said, indicating one of the doors with a gesture before pointing at another. ‘This will be your room from now on.’
He opened the door to reveal a luxuriously large room. Murals decorated some of the beige walls, depicting what must have been historical records of humankind. Some had ships on them, with people walking around underneath. Others showed the Aylens towering above crowds of people, their hideous faces twisted with rage as they glared down at the tiny humans. One even depicted a tunnel crammed with dead hivers. Groups of men with rifles were slaughtering a path through the few remaining insects.
Harl passed under an ornate arch into a kitchen. It was similar to their initial guest room, but the cooker and fridge were of a higher quality and much larger. Everywhere he looked he could see the touch of luxury. Plush rugs, dyed in exotic colours, covered the floor, and the walls were hung with paintings and murals. It was little wonder the councilmen had refused to step down. To give up such grandeur would be nearly impossible.
Another room led off from the kitchen. It was only small, with a bed up against one wall and a single armchair and desk. It would be a perfect space for Gorman, and it was easy to picture him sitting in the cushioned armchair next to the desk, smiling his secret smile. It was perfect.
When Kane left to continue documenting the Third Book from Gorman, Harl turned to Sonora as she relaxed on a sumptuous sofa and looked around. Exhaustion marked her eyes, but she was still brimming with beauty as she sighed and sunk deep into the thick, furry cushions.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘If it’s ours for good then I’m a very happy woman,’ she said, smiling at him.
‘We won’t be moving again until Kane has the ship ready, so it’s ours until then. But there’s still plenty to be done. Speaking of which, I promised Kane I would go see how the farms are progressing.’
‘Don’t be long,’ Sonora said, running her free hand up a slender thigh. ‘I’m not yet sure about the bed.’
‘The bed? You look comfy enough right here,’ he said. He let his gaze roam down her body and then traced the curve of her breast with his fingers. ‘Maybe the farms can wait a little longer.’
Chapter 48
They have taken well to the new landscaped tanks. Some clearly danced or performed ritualistic acts when I placed them inside. I’m currently watching them divide up the land between them. Truly a unique species.
It was the first time that Harl had entered the farms. They were a series of long, sweltering rooms, about twenty paces in width. He followed Kane between two hollowed out platforms that ran in parallel down the middle of one room. They stood about half a pace high and were filled with rich, dark soil. Crops spilled from them and the stuffy air was full of the heady scent of soil and manure. There was enough room around the planting beds for the workers to move freely.
‘We use electric lights to trick the crops into growing faster,’ Kane said, grinning as he pointed to the lights hanging over the nearest bed.
‘How?’
‘Simple. We just leave them on all the time so that the crops can grow throughout the day and night. It’s a simple trick, but it doubles our yield.’
‘Kane!’ A young Enlightened lad stumbled into the farm, waving a ragged piece of parchment triumphantly in the humid air.
Kane frowned at the intrusion, but waited for the boy to come to a stop. Harl recognised him as one of Gorman’s transcribers.
‘He’s given us the code,’ the boy panted, ‘for the switch panel in the engine room. The keypad lifted out and the fuel pipe was right underneath‘
Kane’s face lit up as he turned to Harl.
‘Go on,’ Harl said, ‘I’ll be up there soon to see what the fuss is about.’
Kane said nothing, just turned on his heels and sprinted off.
Harl enjoyed the earthy smell as he strolled down the long rows of crops. In a strange way it reminded him of home, of running through head high corn fields when he and Troy were boys.
Freshly dug potatoes stood out against the dark, fertile soil in one bed, and stalks of corn filled another. Everything looked lush and healthy, there was no sign of disease or insect damage on any of it. He stopped at a strange, twisting vine that coiled up a stick framework and admired the small yellow fruits growi
ng from the tendrils. Other alien crops grew in capped groups, like mushrooms, but were as large as a dinner plate. Beneath the frilled mushroom canopies, dozens of purple berries had dropped down and dotted the soil underneath.
Grey-haired workers were tending the crops. Some of them were hunched over the soil-filled containers as they watered and harvested, while others carried canvas bags from which they sprinkled a powder mix onto the soil.
Harl stopped by an old lady in a patchwork shirt and dress who was scattering fistfuls of the powder around the base of some small shoots. The dress looked almost as old as she did and, with her grey hair tied in neat bun, she looked like a stern school mistress.
‘Can I ask what you’re doing?’ he said, making her jump.
She composed herself and turned to face him. Her eyes widened and she brushed the soil from her clothes, then stood up straighter, looking embarrassed. ‘I – I’m on fertilizing duty, sir.’
Harl nodded.
‘There’s no need to be formal. I’m Harl.’
‘Mary,’ the old woman said, a kind smile playing over her lined face.
‘What is it you’re putting on the soil?’
‘It’s a mixture of ground bone and powdered blood to give the plants everything they need. The rest is mostly the leftovers from the communal kitchens.’
She grimaced as she heaved the sack down onto the seed bed, then wiped her brow on her sleeve.
‘Oh, it feels good to put that down,’ she said, winking at him.
He looked around and then picked up a small bucket from the floor, opened the sack and scooped some of the feed into the bucket.
‘Carry some of it in this,’ he said. ‘I had the same problem spreading corn seed when I was a boy. The sack was bigger than I was.’
She rolled her eyes.
‘You’d think I would’ve thought of that. Oh well, you can’t have beauty and brains,’ she said, laughing.
