The Humanarium

by CW Tickner

  War? Harl had never considered it a war. Had it really come to that? But Oscar was right. They were at war with the Aylen and, even though they had no way to kill such creatures, they could win by freeing everyone, by taking away the Aylen’s profit, pleasure, or whatever humanity represented. He felt a surge of determination and anger. Damen loved to fight. Perhaps it was time Harl embraced it?

  ‘Thank you, Oscar of-the-well,’ Harl said. ‘This is the news we hoped for. Although there are things you don’t yet understand about the technology we speak of, I can see the strength in your people, and we would be glad to have you join us. If you send runners to the wall where we entered, You’ll find a land filled with cattle. There’s water inside as well, a constant flow of it.’

  A muttering arose among everyone present.

  ‘A constant flow?’ Oscar asked. ‘All this time there’s been water close at hand and yet we’ve been forced to ration every last drop? Why? Why would they do this to us?’

  ‘For profit. It’s a harsh truth, but it’s something we’ve all had to face. I’m sorry to bring such news, Oscar,’ Harl said, seeing the resentment in the man’s dark face.

  ‘You hold no blame,’ Oscar said, ‘but despite the harshness of these truths, I see them as good news. No longer will we struggle to live. We will feast on cattle and the water shall flow forth!’

  ‘I know you have suffered, but I must still urge caution,’ Harl said. ‘Don’t take more animals than you need at one time as it’s vital we remain undiscovered by the Aylen. The hole must stay open until we are ready to leave, but it needs covering. The Aylen mustn’t know of our mission and everything should look as normal as possible. Some of my men will stay here with you as we might need to send someone back to relay a message to those outside.’

  ‘I will come with you,’ Oscar said. ‘I want to see what you have said for myself and hold my spear next to your own weapons if a fight arises.’

  ‘Very well,’ Harl said. ‘We’d welcome another to aid us, though I don’t know what we will find.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Oscar said, ‘if we meet more men, they will see that I have joined you and that they should do the same.’

  He turned to one of his warriors.

  ‘Send a group to fetch water from this other land. Do not spill any and return it to fill the peoples’ wells.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘And send men to spread the word that we shall be leaving. Tell them to pack, but nothing should appear out of the ordinary. They should carry on with their work until all is ready.’

  The man headed off to do Oscar’s bidding.

  ‘And Grower,’ Oscar said. The man stopped and looked back at Oscar, ‘Tell the guards camping in the far dunes that the order to kill these men when they leave is to be disregarded.’

  Grower nodded and ducked out into the chill night.

  They talked and feasted long into the dark cycle. When Oscar’s men returned with the water after the light came on, the festivities rose up again as it seemed the promise was true. Wrestlers were brought forth, a circle made in the sand, and encouragements shouted as the two muscle-bound men battled each other.

  Half way through the fight, two of Oscar’s men stumbled drunkenly over to where Damen was sat. One of them slapped him on the back and turned to the crowd.

  ‘What about the bearded newcomer?’ he shouted. ‘Let’s see him fight.’

  ‘Not today,’ Damen said, taking a long swig of some potent spirit from a skin.

  ‘Didn’t take you for a coward,’ Kane muttered, glancing around innocently at the men as they began to move away, disappointed.

  A low growl came from Damen’s throat and he threw the skin at Kane’s feet, making him jump.

  ‘What?’ Damen asked.

  Kane didn’t meet his eye, but the nearby warriors grinned at the sudden change in Damen and started to form a circle around him and Oscar. The hunter looked around for Oscar and met his eye. Oscar nodded curtly and Damen tugged off his leather jerkin, revealing a criss-cross of scars and bite marks decorating his thick muscles.

  One of the men slapped Kane on the back in thanks for making the fight happen and tossed a bangle at a heavily inked warrior. The man caught it and nodded. ‘Oscar to win?’

  Kane’s new friend shook his head. ‘The new one will take it.’

  Had they just made a wager? Harl didn’t know who he’d back in such a fight.

  Kane grinned and pulled a water skin from his belt. He held it out to the bet taker, ‘Oscar of-the-well to win.’

  The man raised an eyebrow as if weighing the chance of such a steep bet, then nodded.

  An aged man hobbled out from the crowd and used a crooked stick to draw a fresh circle in the sand.

  ‘First to either give in or be pushed from the circle will lose the bout,’ he said

  ‘What happens to the loser?’ Damen asked as he handed his leather jerkin to Harl.

  ‘They will be drowned in the well of ruined water,’ Oscar said, his face grave.

  Kane went pale at what he’d initiated and Harl and Damen started to protest, but the crowd burst into laughter and a grin spread across Oscar’s face. It turned into a hearty laugh as he slapped Damen on the back and ushered him into the circle drawn through the sand.

  The bout started as Oscar and Damen moved in towards each other. A tense quiet spread through the spectators with one or two men breaking the silence to urge them on. A cheer rose as they collided and interlocked, their huge muscles bulging as both men fought to keep the other from toppling him. Oscar had a well-practised technique and after a moment he flung Damen down to the ground. The bare sand powdered out from under them as Oscar manoeuvred himself on top. He caught Damen in a strong lock around his shoulders, levering one arm up into an unnatural angle.

  Harl couldn’t see how Damen could resist much longer, but the hunter manoeuvred his legs slowly to the side with a strength and flexibility Harl hadn’t known he possessed. He brought one leg up and over Oscar’s shoulder to wrap it around the man’s neck and then levered Oscar down. He rolled on top of him, and ended with an arm lock which had Oscar straining to free himself.

  The Deltans shouted encouragement at Damen as both men struggled to gain the upper hand, tumbling over and over in the sand until they eventually rolled out of the circle.

  The old man overseeing the bout shouted, ‘Draw!’

  Both men released each other and climbed to their feet, grinning as they tried to work feeling into their tired muscles.

  ‘You fight well,’ Oscar said, a look of pleasure on his face at the unexpected outcome.

  ‘And you,’ Damen said.

  ‘Come,’ Oscar said. He stepped forward and put an arm around Damen’s shoulder. ‘We must eat more and talk. Tell me of your fighting, of your “hunting”, as you put it.’

  Both men sat next to each other during the meal and to Harl it seemed as though they could have talked with relish of fighting and battles forever.

  Eventually, Oscar gave them all leave to rest, promising that he would be ready to join the expedition in the morning.

  Harl curled up on a rug inside the hut and used his bag as a prop for his head. It was like trying to sleep before a gifting when he was a child. The prospect of adventure and the dizziness from drink kept him up and he imagined the different people they would meet crossing the tanks.

  A dark thought struck him before sleep conquered the excitement. What if they found enemies as tough as Oscar’s people on the other sides of the barriers? Only a small group had entered the tanks and if they met a population of even a few hundred who were armed, they would have to abandon their search for Kane’s petroleum.

  It was a chilling thought.

  Chapter 57

  I have increased security to prevent another break-in but I neglected to secure the tanks. Some have escaped into the shop.

  Harl woke to find the tank’s false dawn beaming under the cloth that covered the door. The fire had gone out but the chimney glowe
d in the artificial light as if it had stolen the flames away. Faint wisps of smoke coiled up through the clay funnel and the sound of his men’s snoring filled the stuffy air.

  He stood up and stretched his muscles awake. Pain hammered in his head. It reminded him only too well of nights spent with Troy.

  An old man, who’d been cleaning the hall, looked up sharply as Harl muttered a few chosen curse words. He smiled.

  ‘You like fire-drink?’

  It took Harl a moment to realise he meant the potent spirit Oscar had produced.

  ‘Lovely,’ Harl muttered, massaging his temples.

  The man chuckled and continued to sweep around the snoring soldiers.

  Damen and Kane were beyond the curtain discussing the need for them to get moving. Harl’s throbbing head made it hard to focus on what they were saying. It was like the hot air subdued the sound. Their voices fell silent as he picked his way through the sleeping men, but then light flooded the room as Damen dragged the curtain aside and stepped into the wooden hut. Harl raised his hand to shield his eyes against the glare.

  ‘Right, you lot!’ Damen shouted. ‘Move and get ready!’

  Harl watched Damen limp across to the nearest man and give him a kick to wake him.

  ‘How are your muscles today?’ Harl said.

  ‘They’ll recover,’ Damen said. ‘They sure know how to fight. I think these people will be a great help to us. I can’t believe they’ve lived like this for so long.’

  ‘We may find worse before the end,’ Harl said, thinking of all the ways a confined world could change its people.

  He couldn’t believe how lucky they had been stumbling across Oscar’s people. The chances of finding someone so open to their story had to be tiny, and yet Oscar had accepted their words with good grace and directed his anger towards the Aylen. Harl couldn’t picture his own people being quite so amenable.

  As the men stirred, Harl ordered one of them back to the entrance to meet Uman and tell him about the discovery of their new allies while the rest made ready to depart.

  Oscar, dressed in slightly more clothes than usual, knelt on the sand for a few minutes as if in silent prayer. Was it a prayer or just some kind of meditation to prepare him for what was to come? When the big man rose to his feet the calm determination in his eyes seemed to steady all of those around him.

  Food was handed out and Oscar made sure that each man carried an equal burden even though his own pack bulged more than the others. When he saw the books being piled into one of the bags, he strode over and picked one up, opening it upside down to flick through the pages.

  ‘These contain records?’ he asked as he poked his nose close and inhaled sharply.

  ‘Yes,’ Kane said, switching to his teaching voice. ‘Others contain stories or instructions.’

  Harl had to smile as it made Kane sound more than a little pompous

  ‘Instructions on fighting?’

  ‘Most contain more...refined things. But yes, some do describe the arts of war.’

  Oscar tilted the book to the light and squinted at it as if trying to get a glimpse of the fighting techniques hidden inside.

  ‘Not in this book,’ Kane said, plucking the book from Oscar’s hands and then sliding it back into the bag. ‘I’m sure Damen would be happy to lend you some of his. They have pictures.’

  Oscar missed the sarcasm in Kane’s voice.

  ‘Pictures?’ Oscar said and then marched over to Damen.

  Kane shook his head in puzzlement.

  At Damen’s insistence the troops had given Oscar one of the small melting swords. Oscar spent ages cutting through everything he could find, bowls, bones, even the steel blade from an old sword.

  Before they left he’d badgered Kane for every bit of history about the blades, how they worked, how they were crafted, how they gained power. Kane was in his element, giving lecture after lecture on the history and technology involved, while Oscar issued a stream of profuse thanks at Damen for the mighty gift.

  Oscar headed back into the domed hut and returned with a pair of carved bone daggers. Each was a work of art and must have taken him hundreds of days to carve.

  ‘On the handles is a carving of this land,’ Oscar said. He gestured around him with a hand. ‘I hiked to the heart of our world and carved what I could see around me. One dagger shows the landscape towards the back of this world while the other shows the front. When you hold them together you can see the entire world in the palm of your hand.’

  Damen clearly was moved by this gesture and he stared at the tiny details on the handles, then traced them with the tips of his fingers, before tucking the daggers into the belt around his waist.

  They left the small town with the peoples’ blessing and trudged over the sand towards the pitch-black wall that shot up to join the roof of the tank high above. The bright light beamed down on them and only Oscar and Damen showed no signs of feeling the heat. Harl was soon sweating and taking regular sips from his water bottle as his feet sank into the searing sand. When they reached the base of the wall, the lancers set to work while the rest of the group sat under the shade of a few trees that grew close by.

  Oscar stared in wonder as the lancers cut a hole through the side of his world. They cut at about waist-height and then heaved the large slab back into the tank when it was loose. Oscar ordered two of his people to wait by the hole and then relay any news back to the others who would pass it on to Uman, but his eagerness to see what lay on the other side of the hole infected the whole group. With excitement mounting, they gathered around the opening to peer inside.

  Beyond the barrier lay a world of darkness. It was a black gulf in comparison to the light of Oscar’s world. Harl ducked into the hole and looked around, confused by the blackness before him. His eyes took a moment to get used to the darkness, but then he found that he was looking down about ten paces to a bare black floor and that a small amount of light filtered in through the Sight. Peering further inside, he could see that the tank was completely empty. It was just a smooth, giant cube. There was nothing to hide them, no shelter, cover, or landscape at all.

  He crawled back into Oscar’s world and shielded his eyes from the glaring light above.

  ‘It’s empty,’ he said, the shock of it echoing in his voice.

  ‘What?’ Kane asked. He scrambled into the hole and crouched there in silence before crawling back out. ‘It’s a dead space, an unused tank.’

  ‘Can we cross without being seen?’ Oscar asked as he leant through and glanced right towards the clear glass front.

  ‘We’ll have to run or we risk everything,’ Harl said. ‘If the Aylen spots us then it’s over.’

  ‘We should wait until the shop is quieter,’ Kane said.

  ‘We can’t waste any more time,’ Harl said. ‘We must risk it. We need to get the fire liquid and make our way back. The longer we wait, the more chance one of the holes will be noticed.’

  Kane agreed, reluctantly, and, after tying a rope to one of the trees, they threaded it through the hole and climbed down.

  Harl waited as the men slid one by one down the rope. He was impatient to get across. His eyes had adjusted to the light and the vast empty space was not as dark as it had first appeared.

  As soon as the last man was on the ground, the rope was pulled up and they started off, their equipment rattling as they raced over the suddenly flat ground. When they reached halfway the sight became shrouded in darkness. Harl twisted round in panic.

  ‘Aylen!’ he yelled.

  An Aylen had stopped in front of the tank and the metallic weave of its clothing blocked their view like a second wall beyond the glass. It was only the Aylen’s midsection, but it’s rippling silver clothes flashed reflected light throughout the tank.

  They skidded to a halt, frozen in the middle of the barren world like a row of statues. Harl’s heart pounded in his chest and it was only by force of will that he didn’t pray to a god for deliverance. What would happen if the Aylen duck
ed down to peer inside the tank? His muscles had seized up. There was no way he could run. The fear of the creature was just too overwhelming.

  ‘It must be looking into the world above,’ Kane said, panting.

  ‘Go!’ Damen said. ‘Run!’

  Damen sprinted past and grabbed the strap on Harl’s bag, dragging him forward into motion. With packs bouncing against their backs, they raced ahead and tried to force more speed from their tired limbs. Harl was already winded and gasping for air, but the numbing fear shattered and he thundered along, his footsteps like drumbeats against the floor of the tank.

  Kane spoke through heavy breaths. ‘We need to cut the hole higher in case there’s land on the other side and we hit soil.’

  ‘Or sand,’ Oscar chimed in. ‘If it’s sand then it’ll pour in and any passing Aylen will notice.’

  Harl’s mind raced as he tried to figure out how to overcome this new problem. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if it would work. He reached into his bag for a small coil of rope.

  ‘Oscar,’ he said.

  Oscar turned from staring at the giant form outside. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I need the blade that Damen gave you.’

  Oscar didn’t hesitate to part from his new weapon. Harl took the blade and activated it as he approached the wall. Holding onto one end of the rope, he dropped the rest and then tied the rope to the hilt of the blade. He stopped at the base of the wall and turned to Oscar.

  ‘Will you to let me get on your shoulders?’

  Oscar knelt down facing the barrier. Harl climbed on to his broad shoulders and balanced there while Oscar pushed up off his knees. Harl braced himself against the wall until he was confident of his balance and then reached up with the blade and pushed it into the solid barrier. He switched the weapon off and tested that it was stuck firmly into the smooth wall.