by Pete Hautman
It’s not my fault, he told himself. It just happened.
He knew that was a cop-out, but he clung to it as the mileposts flashed by. I could die now, he told himself, and my life will have been worth living —
A gauzy white figure appeared in front of him, holding its arms out as if telling him to stop. There was no time; it was too close. Kosh didn’t even have time to touch the brake pedal. The Mustang blew through the apparition. Kosh laughed shakily — it was just a bit of thick fog. He checked his rearview mirror, but saw nothing. When he looked at the road ahead he saw a deer trotting casually out onto the highway.
Deer!
Time slowed. Kosh’s foot moved from the gas pedal to the brake.
A big buck.
Tires locked, the nose of the Mustang dipped. The deer looked up and froze.
Look at the rack on that thing!
The screech of rubber on asphalt seemed muffled, as if this were happening to somebody else. There was no way he could stop in time. Lifting his foot from the brake, he jerked the wheel to the left, crossing the oncoming lane, heading for the ditch. The rear tires lost traction; the Mustang went into a spin. The rear end of the car struck the buck with a nauseating wet thud. Kosh fought the wheel, turning into the skid, and seconds later, he was motionless, the only sound that of the still-running engine, and the gasping sound of his own breathing. Kosh closed his eyes and swallowed. He sat there for a few seconds, waiting for his heart to slow, then got out.
The deer was gone. Kosh examined the Mustang. Rear quarter panel bashed in and streaked with blood. The tire was still holding air. Kosh took the tire iron from the trunk and pried the sheet metal away from the wheel. It was still drivable, but it would need bodywork. He could fix it. Adrian would never know.
Not that it mattered. A dent in the Mustang was nothing compared with the damage he and Emily were about to inflict upon his brother’s heart.
ROMELAS, ca. 3000 CE
THE GATE WAS BACK, AS AWN HAD PROMISED.
Tucker and Lia climbed the pyramid slowly, Tucker going first and helping Lia up the giant steps. She didn’t really need his help, but it was an excuse to touch her.
The disko was now positioned over a different facet of the pyramid. Tucker stood a few feet from its shimmering surface, staring into it as if the swirls and coruscations could tell him something.
“Do you trust Awn?” Lia asked.
Tucker shrugged. “I’m not even sure she’s the same Awn I met before.” He turned to Lia. “She’s kind of odd-looking, don’t you think?”
“She is very smooth.”
“Like she just popped out of a mold.”
“She told me her name stands for Augmented Whorsch-Novak golem. Whorsch-Novak sounds like a Boggsian name, but what’s a golem?”
“A creature made out of earth or clay, or something. I think it’s an old Jewish legend. Awn — the other Awn — once told me that the Boggsians are Amish Jews.”
“And they make golems?”
“I don’t know.” The disko changed color from gray to green. “Something’s coming.” Tucker backed away. The disko pulsed and buzzed, and a Klaatu emerged, an indistinct blobby-looking shape, like the one that had guided Tucker into the disko in Harmony. The Klaatu drifted up until it was suspended about twenty feet above the disko.
“What do you think it wants?” Lia said.
“Mostly, I think they just like to watch.” Tucker raised his voice. “Hey! Can you hear me up there?”
The Klaatu did not respond.
“I think you can only talk to them through a machine,” Lia said.
The Klaatu drifted down to the level of the disko. The disko pulsed orange; the Klaatu was gone.
“Are you ready?” Tucker asked.
“Hold my hand,” Lia said. They entered the portal together.
Tucker and Lia landed on either side of the ridge on Kosh’s barn. If they hadn’t been holding on to each other, one or both of them might have tumbled off. Tucker grabbed the weathervane and pulled Lia up beside him.
“I’ve been here before,” Lia said.
“This is Kosh’s barn. I used to live here.” It was cold. Not as cold as the North Pole, but after the tropical climate of Romelas, the wind felt frigid. Judging from the nearly leafless trees, it was late fall. A thin, steady stream of smoke rose from the chimney at the far end of the barn.
“Looks like he’s home.” Tucker let go of Lia’s hand, worked his way around the weathervane, and followed the ridge to the chimney. One of Kosh’s motorcycles — the Triumph — was lying on its side in a mud puddle to the side of the driveway. It wasn’t like Kosh to leave his bike like that. Next to the bike was an SUV.
Tucker backed away from the edge. Lia said, “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Tucker said. “But it’s not good. We’d better get down. Come on.” They edged around the weathervane, crawled under the disko, and followed the ridge to the far end of the barn.
“Uh-oh,” Tucker said. The rungs nailed to the side of the barn only went down halfway. He remembered Kosh ripping off the bottom rungs. “How did you get down last time you were up here?” he asked Lia.
She peered over the edge. “There was a ladder.”
“Well, it’s gone.” The bottommost rung was a good twenty feet above the ground. Tucker figured he could hang from the last rung and drop to the ground safely — he’d fallen a lot farther than that when the disko had dropped him onto the ice pack at the Pole — but he would have to find a way to get Lia down.
They heard voices coming from the back side of the barn.
“That is the language of Romelas,” Lia whispered.
Tucker nodded. It was as he feared. The Lambs were here, which meant that Kosh was in serious trouble. If he was alive.
“There they are,” Lia said. They ducked behind the roof ridge. Three men dressed in hunting garb were entering the woods. One of them was limping.
“Do you know them?” Tucker asked.
“I can’t tell.”
“I might have to leave you up here for a bit,” Tucker said.
“No,” Lia said flatly. “We will both go.”
“I can drop down from the bottom rung. I’ll have to find a ladder for you.”
“I’ll jump too,” Lia said.
“It’s too high.”
“I’ll climb down you.”
For a moment Tucker was confused, then he got it.
“Okay, let’s go.” Tucker let himself over the edge and descended the rungs. Lia followed. When Tucker reached the bottommost rung, he grabbed it with his hands and hung from it. Lia put her feet on his shoulders, then held on to his arms and lowered herself, wrapping her legs around his body and slowly sliding down until she was hanging on to his ankles. This brought the bottoms of her feet to within ten feet of the ground. She hung there for a few seconds, then released her grip, hit the ground, and rolled. Tucker waited for her to get out of the way, then dropped. He landed lightly on his feet. He gestured for Lia to follow him around to the front. He peeked around the corner. The door leading into the barn was standing open.
“I’m going to take a look inside,” Tucker whispered. “Wait here.” He eased around the corner. Staying close to the wall, he approached the nearest window and peeked inside.
Kosh’s workshop was illuminated by a familiar glow. Diskos. Tucker counted five of them lined up against the back wall. He ducked below the level of the window and moved to the open door. Seeing no one in the workshop, he entered. Kosh’s tools, parts, benches, and cabinets had been shoved aside, blocking the big double doors at the end of the barn, to make room for the row of diskos. Each disko was confined by a metal armature and surrounded by a flabby pink band of maggot flesh, like the captive maggot at Hopewell County Park. He heard soft footsteps from upstairs, then the sound of someone descending the spiral staircase. Quickly, he concealed himself behind an upended bench.
The person coming down the steps was a woman. Tucker st
opped breathing. It was his mother — or rather the younger version of his mother he had met in his house in Hopewell. Emma, she had called herself. She stopped at the bottom step, glanced toward the diskos, then crossed to the doorway. She looked out, to the left, to the right. After a moment, she turned and approached the row of diskos.
Tucker was struck by the expression on her face, which seemed to contain both fear and sadness, with sadness predominating. She stopped in front of the leftmost disko. She gazed into its churning gray surface for a few heartbeats, then moved to the next. Tucker sensed that she was trying to decide which one to enter. She looked into each of the portals. When she reached the last one — so close Tucker could have reached out to touch her — he saw her make a decision. It was a small thing; her jaw became firm, her shoulders squared, her eyelids tightened, her knee bent slightly, and she began the forward lean that would take her into the disko. Tucker leaped over the bench and grabbed her — one arm around her waist, one hand clapped over her mouth — and dragged her back.
In a low voice, he said, “I won’t hurt you. If you want to go through the disko, I won’t stop you. But I have some questions. Do you understand?”
Emma nodded, her eyes wide.
“Do you remember me?” Tucker asked, taking his hand from her mouth.
She nodded again.
“The men outside, who are they?”
“Master Gheen. Koan. Tamm. The acolyte Jonas.”
“Do you know the man who lives here?”
“Kosh,” she said, almost too quietly to hear.
“Is he here?”
She bit her lip. Her eyes filled with tears. She looked away.
For a moment Tucker felt nothing, then the bottom seemed to drop out of his gut as he read her expression.
“No,” he said, backing away from her and holding up his hands as if he could stop her from saying more. His butt hit the bench he had been hiding behind. He grabbed it — something solid to hold on to.
“They killed him,” Emma said.
KOSH CROUCHED BEHIND A FALLEN TREE AND LISTENED to the men, calling to one another in a strange language, tramping clumsily through the woods, looking for him. He thought there were four of them, but he wasn’t sure. One of them was the young guy he had seen before. The others he couldn’t get a look at, but he suspected one of them was Koan, the man who had shot him, and maybe Tamm and Gheen as well. Kosh waited, shotgun safety off, half hoping Koan would find him. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to shoot the kid, but he figured Koan wouldn’t be a problem.
The men moved off. Kosh raised his head. He saw one of them from the back, moving toward the barn. Had they given up? He considered his options. From where he was hiding, he could see the top half of the barn. Something on the roof caught his eye. Two figures, moving along the roof ridge toward the ladder end of the barn. Tucker and Lia! What were they doing here? And if Kosh could see them on the roof, then the guys who were hunting for him might spot them too. Kosh stood up. The three men were walking away from him, back toward the barn.
Tucker and Lia were no longer visible — they were probably on the ladder. Kosh snatched up a piece of broken limestone and threw it. It hit a tree just downhill from the nearest man. He stopped moving and looked toward the sound, calling softly to the others.
Kosh ducked back behind the fallen tree and watched. He could see Koan clearly now, less than fifty yards away. The men spread out and moved toward the place where they’d heard the rock hit. Good. As long as they stayed in the woods, Tucker and Lia would have time to make it to the ground unseen, and — he hoped — get their butts out of there. Kosh waited until the men were out of sight, then moving silently downhill, away from the barn, he found another rock and threw it in their general direction. Kosh peered through the trees, trying to see how they would respond.
He heard the slug thud into the hickory tree next to him at the same moment he heard the flat crack of the rifle. Kosh ducked low and ran. A second shot ripped through the brush. Kosh leaped over a small ravine and kept running.
“Kosh is dead?” Tucker said. His voice sounded hollow and distant.
Emma nodded. “I saw Koan shoot him. I am sorry. He was your uncle, yes?”
Tucker nodded, drawing a shaky breath. Kosh was all the family he had. The air around him seemed to thicken; the sound of his breathing rasped at his eardrums. He felt his heart beating raggedly, as if it couldn’t decide whether to speed up or slow down.
A muffled bang came from the woods outside. Emma flinched at the sound. A second shot rang out.
“Those were rifle shots,” Tucker said. He felt things inside him hardening, crystalizing. “I need a weapon.”
“There is an arma upstairs,” Emma said. “Guns as well.”
“Is anybody up there?”
She shook her head.
“Show me. Quickly.”
They ran up the stairs. The second floor was much as Tucker remembered, although the furniture had been disarranged, and four mattresses were lined up in front of the stone fireplace. A small fire was burning.
Emma checked on the living room table, then in the kitchen, then between the mattresses. She found a shock baton, but no arma, no guns. She handed the baton to Tucker. “The other weapons are gone.”
“That must have been them in the woods shooting. But shooting at what?”
“I don’t know. A few minutes ago Jonas came running inside and said something to Master Gheen, and they all went outside, very excited. It was the first time I had been left alone since they came here. I thought to escape through the Gates.”
“Do you know where the Gates will take you?”
“It does not matter. I only know I cannot stay here, not after all the things they have done. Kosh was not the first man they killed, nor will he be the last.”
“We’ll see about that,” Tucker said. “Whatever else happens, they can’t have Kosh’s barn.” He went to the stove, blew out the pilot light, and turned the gas jets to all six burners on high. The skunky smell of propane filled the air. “Let’s go.”
Back in Kosh’s former workshop, the diskos were buzzing and flickering with unusual vigor, as if they sensed the upstairs filling with explosive gas.
“If you want to take a chance on the diskos, you’d better do it now,” Tucker said.
Emma looked from Tucker to the diskos, then back. “You are going to fight them?”
“I’m going to do something,” Tucker said. “I have a friend outside. She’s going to be wondering what happened to me. You can come with me if you want, or take your chances with the diskos. But I wouldn’t recommend hanging out in here.”
Emma hesitated, then said, “I will come with you.”
They started for the door, but were stopped by the sound of voices just outside. Tucker grabbed Emma’s arm to pull her back behind the bench where he had been hiding before. She said, “No. They will expect me to be here. I will not betray you.”
Tucker looked into the face that was the face of his mother, and he believed her. He jumped over the bench and hid himself behind it.
From the corner of the barn, Lia watched the open doorway through which Tucker had entered. What was he doing in there? She stepped out to follow him inside, then ducked back when she heard a gunshot from the woods. A second later, another shot came from the same direction. Again, she started for the open doorway.
“Yar.”
Lia spun around. A few yards away, a clean-shaven man wearing a camouflage jacket, matching trousers, and a blaze-orange hunting cap stood holding an arma pointed at her midsection. The man’s lips drew back from large white teeth. With a jolt, she recognized him.
“Master Gheen,” she said, the words catching in her throat.
“I did not think to see you again,” he said. He looked younger without the beard.
Lia looked at the arma, measuring the distance between them. Not close enough — it would be suicide to rush him.
“I like your hat,” she
said.
Gheen smiled. Was he really her father? She saw nothing of herself in his leering face. “I like to blend in with the locals,” he said. “Where is your weapon?”
“I have no weapon,” Lia said.
“So you say. Turn around. Put your hands on the barn.”
Seeing no alternative, Lia did as she was told. She sensed him moving closer. Close enough for her to donkey kick him? Not quite.
“Are you alone?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said.
Gheen chuckled. “I think not.”
The base of her skull exploded. Her face hit the barn. She fell to her hands and knees, and bright lights flashed behind her eyes. He killed me! she thought. But no, she was still alive. He must have hit me with the butt of the arma. She heard a grunt of effort and Gheen’s boot crashed into her gut, knocking her onto her side. Lia forced herself to ignore the pain and lie still, feigning unconsciousness. Gheen stood over her, breathing heavily.
“I owe you that and more, Yar,” he said. “Best pray to whatever bitch god you worship. You’ll meet her soon.”
Through slitted eyes, Lia watched him back away two steps, keeping the arma trained on her.
“I know you can hear me,” he said.
Lia did not move, hoping he would come closer. She imagined planting her boot in his groin. Just one step closer.
“Your Yarish tricks won’t work this time. On your feet.” Gheen put his thumb on the arma’s trigger button. “Or we can end it now.”
Sullenly, painfully, Lia climbed to her feet. Her neck was on fire and her belly felt as if something inside had broken.
“You are in pain,” Gheen observed. “Good. Tell me, who is the man in black?”
Man in black? She shook her head. Tucker was not wearing black. That meant that Gheen didn’t know about him. But who was the man in black?
Gheen said, “Do you wish to die sooner than is necessary?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” It hurt to talk. Breathing shallowly, she waited for whatever was to come. She would find an opportunity to act, or she would die.
