by James Axler
“Nothing can do. Just chance.” Jak shrugged.
As they spoke, the first party of Pilatans left the leading boat and began the ascent. Markos and Sineta took the lead and, as she watched them, Mildred reflected that the death of Barras and also the chilling of Chan had drawn the two closer together—not in the sense of a marriage of convenience that the two dead men had wanted, but that a mutual sense of loss had driven them to work harder in a time of adversity.
The ascent was difficult. The slime and moss that covered the scree was soft and slippery underfoot, making it hard to get a grip on the rocks. And the small stones that lay beneath the slime were apt to fall away suddenly in showers of gravel that covered those following and made a foothold all the harder. Both Markos and Sineta took the slope virtually on all fours, testing each hold as they went, despite the shallow angle. It was the only way that they could insure a safe grip.
It took them nearly half an hour to reach the top of the rocks, during which time they were virtually defenseless should there be an attack from above. The sec men on the boats, and Ryan and J.B. with their longer range blasters, provided the possibility of covering fire. However, at that distance, it would be hard to provide an effective defense, even though the bare rock-slate peninsula offered little cover of its own and would make an attacking force of any kind an open target in its own right.
When Markos and Sineta attained the flat of the rock, they lay panting.
“If it is this hard for us, then how will the animals and the old cope?” the baron gasped eventually.
“As with all endeavor—because they have to,” Markos replied when he had caught his breath. As he spoke, they were joined by the next wave of Pilatans from the first boat. These carried ropes coiled around them. Markos allowed them only a short while to recover before instructing them to proceed with the plans they had been given.
The Pilatans threw the ropes down to the rocks below, past another wave of ascending men and women. The older, more infirm Pilatans were being assisted by those who were stronger, and at times the ascent was reduced to a crawl—but still it continued, never actually grinding to a halt.
At the bottom of the scree, there were those who had helped to unload crates and packages from the boat. They waited patiently, then took the proffered ropes and attached them securely to the crates. Each one had been designed and packed specifically so that it would be of a suitable weight for what next occurred. While the man down with the crate pushed from behind, grasping the tied rope firmly as he pushed, the man above pulled and acted as an anchor, taking the strain of the crate’s weight and also acting as a counterweight for the man behind the crate, lest he should slip. Depending on the comparative strengths of the two men, it actually speeded up the process of ascent.
When the first boat was empty, it was turned by the last seaman aboard, the tiller tied so that it headed out toward the sheer cliff face, away from the semicircle of companion craft. The seaman left his boat, letting it scupper itself on the rocks and leaving a gap where the next boat in line could come in to land its crew and cargo. The loss of the boats was regrettable, as they had taken such resources to put together. But they were now of little use, and to leave them as empty and soon to be rotting hulks would only make it harder for the other craft to maneuver into shore.
Up on the smooth surface of the peninsula’s rock bridge, there were now enough Pilatans for Markos to form a sec patrol that ventured to the point where the rock ran seamlessly into the green of the mainland, establishing a bridgehead that would enable the landings to continue with a greater sense of security.
Mildred, Krysty and Jak were on the next vessel to land. Descending from the boat into the shallow water, and feeling the cold drag at their feet, they were surprised at how hard the climb truly was. The angle might have been shallow, but the shale, moss and slime made it treacherous. Jak ascended the quickest, as surefooted as ever over the surface, barely seeming to touch it as his hands and feet found secure holds where it seemed none could exist. When he reached the top, he took one of the lengths of rope that was now lying idle—there being no crates to be hauled up as yet—and threw it down.
“Krysty!” he yelled to the red-haired beauty below. She and Mildred were helping the ascent of the three Pilatans who had nearly been chilled by the falling rigging. They were still in shock, and also had minor injuries from the landing they had made when Jak had cannoned into them, deflecting them from a certain chilling. Their ascent had been slow, and both Mildred and Krysty had doubled back to assist them.
Krysty looked up and saw the rope fall toward her. She grabbed at the end as it reached her, knowing what Jak wanted her to do. She took the rope and pulled down a long length of slack, Jak feeding it to her. While she was doing this, Mildred—having also guessed Jak’s plan—explained to the distressed Pilatans what she wanted them to do.
The redhead wove the rope around the three Pilatans, tying each one securely into place. She also included herself and Mildred in the equation, so that there were five people tied into the rope, two of whom would provide motive power. Signaling to Jak, she and Mildred continued their ascent, with the albino anchoring and pulling at the top of the scree. It was much easier for them to help the Pilatans in this manner and they soon gained the ridge.
“Nice work, Jak,” Mildred said in thanks.
The albino shrugged. “Pity save one chill then see fall so near.”
Meanwhile, below, another ship was scuppered and another moved in to take its place. The unloading continued, but the sun had started to sink and the light was becoming dim, making it dangerous to continue. When the current ship had discharged its load, Markos strode to the lip of the incline and discharged his blaster three times into the air.
It was the prearranged signal in case of such an occurrence. There were two ships left at sea, and these would have to wait until the morrow before they could unload. Meanwhile, up on the rock of the peninsula bridge, the Pilatans built a fire and makeshift shelters from crates to protect themselves from the biting wind that came with the dark, settling to an uncomfortable but necessary night on the rocks.
On board the two remaining ships were Ryan and Dean, and Doc and J.B. For the former pair, it would be an easy night. They were among those who would work with them, and who didn’t see them as enemies. For the latter two, this was still not the case. Despite the fact that J.B. had saved the life of the separatist who would have chilled both Doc and himself, the general atmosphere was still against them. Added to this, the livestock on board were still disturbed by the events of the voyage and prowled their cages, making it hard for anyone to rest. Tempers were frayed and getting worse in such an atmosphere.
“Truly, I would never have been so pleased to partake of an invigorating scramble in such unseemly circumstances,” Doc remarked to the Armorer, with no lack of wit as they took turns to keep watch while the other tried to sleep.
On the mainland peninsula, the night winds howled and swept along the bare rock, making it hard for those in the makeshift shelters to rest.
“It is not perhaps how I would have envisaged our first night in a new land,” Sineta said to Mildred, Krysty and Markos as they huddled around the fire.
“In truth, it could hardly have been any different, if one chose to reflect,” Markos considered at length. “Whatever happened, we could not establish a comfortable and even semipermanent camp immediately.”
“That’s true, but it doesn’t stop it being so damn cold,” Mildred countered.
Farther up, at the point where the stone and slate gave way to topsoil and grass, Jak joined the sec men who were keeping watch on the land beyond, taking his turn with the rest of them. It was gesture that was appreciated by sec men who had no experience of the mainland.
And so the night passed. Dawn broke and the first of the remaining ships moved into position as soon as the light was sufficient. It unloaded with ease, and it wasn’t long before Ryan and Dean were reunited with their c
ompanions. The ship was sent off to join the others, now little more than matchwood against the rocks.
The tide had receded during the hours of darkness and it would be a race against time to bring the final ship into position and unload it—including the livestock—before the waters began to deepen once more. Only if it was unavoidable did anyone wish to wait the hours until the tide went out once more.
On board, J.B. and Doc helped to prepare the animals for unloading. They were released from their cages one at a time and led down a gangplank into the shallow waters. Once at the bottom of the incline, they were roped with the lengths thrown down from the top of the slope and were then guided up. Here they were put in the charge of Pilatans who were ready for them, penned in crates until they were all on the level.
It was a slow and painstaking process, with many of the frightened animals refusing to make their way up the slope, the Pilatans at the bottom of the incline forced to beat them to make them move from fear and pain. The resultant cries from the beasts did nothing to quell the fear among those still on board the boat.
J.B. and Doc were among the last to start the ascent. They both stood at the bottom of the scree, the water of the incoming tide lapping at their ankles as the seaman deputed to scupper the last boat set its course and clambered down and into the calm waters as the craft headed for the graveyard that the rocks had become. They helped the man onto the drier land of the slope and, as he began to climb, they watched the boat crash into the side of the cliff.
“That’s it, then.” Doc sighed. “No way back for any who may regret it, now.”
“No way back for us, either,” the Armorer added. “And unless we move it, we’ll risk being drowned in this damn tide.”
They began their ascent, some distance behind the others. Doc found the moss and slime hard-going, his hands and feet scrabbling for holds, his lion’s-head swordstick tucked into his belt. Once or twice he lost his grip completely and felt himself begin to slip and fall backward, but always J.B. was there to grab him and help him up again.
By the time that both men had reached the summit, they were exhausted. Ryan and Dean were there to help them up over the edge.
“Thanks for sending a rope down for us,” J.B. panted.
Ryan grinned. “They’ve used them all on the animals. Guess they didn’t think you’d need them.”
“Great. I’ll do the same for them sometime,” J.B. gasped.
Climbing to their feet, both men could see that the train of Pilatans and their animals were ready to begin their trek. At the head of the convoy were Markos and Sineta, with Mildred, Krysty and Jak waiting for them. They were facing the beginnings of the grasslands and Sineta looked back to where the four men were standing. She said something to Markos, who turned and beckoned to the four companions.
“I guess they want us to take the head with them because we know the mainland,” Ryan said wryly.
“But, Dad, it’s different here from elsewhere and we—”
“I know,” Ryan said quietly. “But you know what, Dean? They’ve got to discover that for themselves.”
Chapter Thirteen
The caravan of Pilatu made its way across the terrain for two days. Progress was slow, slower than had originally been envisioned by Sineta as the wags had been ditched and many of the older Pilatans found it hard to keep pace on foot. There were horses in among the livestock, and the younger, fitter members of the tribe gave up their mounts to assist their elders. Sineta herself was one of the first to do this, followed by Markos. The companions, who had also been given mounts so that they could keep pace with the caravan leaders and also scout ahead, also gave up their seats, although Doc was incensed when Sineta insisted that he retain his mount, on account of his age.
The area presented the weary caravan with no great threat. Rolling green hills led away from the rock peninsula where they had landed, forming a bland green barrier between themselves and the great lands beyond, the inclines making it impossible to see what lay over the crests of the hills.
“Perhaps it will be better on the other side,” Markos said to Ryan as they rode on the first day. “If it stretches like this for any great distance, then how can it be farmed? Where is the shelter?”
“It’ll be different, all right,” the one-eyed man replied. “You don’t know how different…but I’ll be glad when we’re beyond this.”
Ryan shivered as yet another cold gust swept along the hills. Certainly, this was hardly the most inspiring introduction to the mainland that the Pilatans could have wished. The hills were covered with a thin layer of topsoil that was enough to allow the sparse growth of grass and moss that softened underfoot but allowed for nothing else to take root. The rock beneath the soil was flat, so there were no outcrops to stop the winds from howling across the flat plain that rose in an incline to the crest.
With the slow progress that they made on foot, it seemed as if they would never reach the crest to see what lay beyond. The Pilatans moved slowly, and even to reach the crest of the long, undulating hills meant trekking a greater distance than the length and breadth of the island they had left behind. The scale of the mainland was something they couldn’t even imagine, let alone adjust to with ease. And with each passing hour that they walked, they grew more and more apprehensive about their undertaking. Was this land too big for them to assimilate? Would they be able to find somewhere that had the resource and reassurance of their home?
It was something that the companions could do nothing to assuage. The vast plains of grass, rising upward, bespoke of a massive land movement at the time of skydark, which had stripped this long stretch of land and formed a new coastline that hid from view the land that lay beyond. Under their own steam, they would have made the distance in a day, and be able to view the area beyond for possible shelter before nightfall. But with the heavy caravan slowing them, it meant a night camping on the plains.
As darkness fell, the temperature dropped to below zero, with the wind chill taking it down a few degrees more. Even with the temporary shelter they were able to rig from the crates and belongings they carried with them, it was still hard for the Pilatans to make anything in the way of warming conditions. It was hard for them to keep fires going in the teeth of the winds, as they had never had such conditions to contend with on the well-sheltered island. The companions passing among them had to teach them how to shelter and nurture their fires.
There were also complaints about water running low. Many of the older Pilatans were fearful that they wouldn’t be able to find another supply before their own ran out. Jak rigged plastic sheeting they had brought with them to catch the dew, and also hunted out a small spring that he was able to detect by a slightly more verdant growth of grass and moss. It wasn’t much, but it did help to alleviate fears, which may have been just as important as the actual production of water. For the caravan to proceed on the morrow, the Pilatans had all to be in the frame of mind to continue.
“I know we are slow,” Markos said to the companions as they gathered around their own small fire, “but we should—if we can continue even at this pace—attain the crest of the hill by nightfall tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” Mildred replied. “Another night like this won’t be good for the older and weaker people. We need to get off this plain.”
“I’m sure we will, and that we’ll find better conditions,” Sineta said with a confidence that Mildred couldn’t share.
“Don’t place your hopes too highly,” Mildred said carefully. “We don’t know what’s going to be on the far side of the hill. It may be good land or it may be little more than a dust bowl.” She saw Sineta’s face drop as she spoke, and continued rapidly, so that the woman wouldn’t be too dispirited. “I’m not saying that it’ll be a disaster, but you have to take in the fact that conditions change so quickly here. You always have to expect the unexpected, otherwise you won’t be able to adapt and survive.”
Markos smiled grimly. “It seems that we have been in isolati
on too long, perhaps become complacent because of this.”
“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Mildred said softly. “It’s just going to be a lot to learn quickly. And you’ll have to.”
AS DAWN BROKE, the Pilatans stirred to wakefulness and prepared to continue with little ceremony. There wasn’t a single one of them who couldn’t wait to crest the hill, no matter what may lay on the other side. The morning was dull and overcast, the wind chill seeming to cut straight through cloth and flesh, cold to the bone with every step. And the distance ahead, on an upward incline, was enough to suggest a good day’s march. They broke to rest on three occasions, partly for the people and partly for the livestock, who were unused to walking such distances, and some of whom had the extra burden of the crates. On each break, many could barely wait to continue, preferring the relentless toil to sitting, waiting, in the biting cold.
But finally they reached the crest of the hill. A short plateau stretched ahead, just enough to make a view of the land beyond difficult. The distant peaks of hills and mountains were all that could be seen, shrouded in the mist of clouds that lay low in the overcast skies.
“Must drop down into one hell of a valley,” J.B. remarked to Ryan as they trudged across the plateau.
The one-eyed man agreed. “Problem is, what do we do if the drop is too steep to get down easily?”
The Armorer glanced back at the caravan stretching out behind them and then forward to where Mildred walked with Markos and Sineta.
“Dark night, how’s Millie going to deal with that one?” he murmured.
The same thoughts had also crossed Mildred’s mind. Seeing the mist-enshrouded vista ahead, she had wondered what course of action could be taken if it proved impossible for the Pilatan caravan to descend on the other side of the hill. And, looking along the ridge that stretched on either side for as far as she could see, she had to admit that she had no ideas. She prayed that it wouldn’t be necessary to try to come up with any.
