The Hunter

by Rose Estes

  “Figured you’d best give up,” Batta Flor finished for her. “Well, we can give up or we can keep going. The water’s not so high that we can’t get through it. Come on, now, let’s be on our way! Soonest begun…”

  “Soonest done!” Keri finished with a short laugh, taking his hand and rising to her feet, her courage returning in the face of Batta Flor’s equanimity.

  Beast hesitated on the bottom step, whining and treading nervously for he had learned to fear water after their experiences at the lake. Braldt cupped the pup’s rear in his hands and shoved him off the step before he realized what was happening. The pup yipped sharply and struck out, beating the water to a frenzied froth before he realized that it scarcely came halfway up his legs. He calmed quickly then and paced the narrow landing, sniffing at the dark water.

  Braldt listened at the door and, hearing nothing ominous, opened it slowly. There was a slight eddying as water from the other side of the door flowed through, surging as it met the water of the flooded stairwell. There was light inside this corridor, a strange sort of light, pale and diffused as it wavered forth from beneath the foot of water that covered it. But still, it was light. They entered the corridor gratefully, glad to be free of the clinging darkness. Keri had looked over the rail before entering and saw the lights of the landings below, still shimmering up out of the dark depths like multiple reflections of Mother Moon. It was an oddly unsettling sight.

  This corridor was clearly of a different nature than the ones they had traveled before. The walls served merely as dividers for the many rooms that lay beyond, all of which opened onto the long hallway. They entered the first of these rooms with some trepidation, feeling like intruders, for the room was imbued with the presence of those who had worked and occupied the space before the incident. It seemed quite likely that they might return at any moment.

  This feeling was reinforced by the many articles that were strewn about the room, obviously discarded by their owners in a moment of extreme haste. A technical manual with numerous illustrations of brightly colored coils lay tossed in a corner atop a desk. Several chairs were overturned, their backs awash with water. A multitude of tools, some of which Braldt could only guess at their uses, lay scattered on a workbench with ghostly detached metallic hands lying beside them.

  And there in a corner of the room propped up against the wall like a bit of discarded furniture was a man made entirely of a smooth, black material. He had no features at all, only the barest hint of sculpturing to indicate where eyes and nose might be. The mouth was another story, it was represented by a smooth bar of the bright silver metal punctured in a regular pattern with hundreds of tiny holes. It was complete, manlike, shorter than Braldt but whole in every way other than the hand that had been removed and was awaiting repair on the bench. Affixed in the very center of the man-thing’s chest was another silver fixture, this one round and dotted with holes. It was identical to the one that Beast had found back at the sandy inlet.

  Keri and Braldt eased around the dark figure, studying the strange thing with interest as well as caution as though fearing that it might come to life at any moment. Beast did not approach but viewed it from a safe distance, growling loudly and showing his double rows of sharp teeth.

  “What, what is it?” Keri asked Batta Flor who exhibited no interest in the thing and was rummaging in a smaller storage area at the far side of the room.

  “Hmm? Oh, that’s a hard one,” he replied, forgetting for the moment that Keri and Braldt had never seen one before. “Can’t hurt us, though; it’s switched off.”

  “What do you mean, ‘switched off’? Can it be switched on?”

  “Sure, I guess,” Batta Flor said, puzzlement in his voice. “But why would we want to do that? This is the enemy.”

  “As I understand it, they are not creatures of their own will but obey the masters, am I right?” Batta Flor nodded. “Well, could we not make it do our bidding? Could we not command it to go where we cannot go and do the things that would be dangerous to us?”

  “I do not know if such a thing is possible,” Batta Flor said slowly. “I have never thought of this before, but maybe it could be done. They are complex machines, these hard ones. I do not know if they would function in water, perhaps they would short out, but maybe their wires are adequately sealed and mayhaps even the relays. It is worth a try.”

  “Don’t! What if the masters are just waiting for such a thing! Could they not take control and turn it against us!” Keri was looking at the hard one with fear and distrust.

  “Not if we can sever the connection first,” Batta Flor assured her, and moving to the hard one’s back, he flicked open a panel that revealed a complex array of wires and coils, all brightly colored and having their terminus in numerous small silver boxes. Batta Flor studied them carefully and then reached in with a pair of slender, long-nosed pincers and severed all the wires that led to the largest of the silver boxes.

  He removed the box, placing it on the workbench with distaste, and then returned to the panel and studied it even more carefully. After a time his fingers rose to a series of small, flat buttons, each bearing a single glyph. His long, nimble fingers danced over the buttons, tapping out a sequence that had no meaning for Keri and Braldt who could make no sense of the glyphs in any case. They looked at each other and shrugged, hoping that Batta Flor knew what he was doing.

  Suddenly the dark figure moved! It raised its single hand and turned its head almost completely around and looked at Batta Flor, or would have done so had it had eyes. Beast began to bark shrilly and darted forward to slash at the thing’s legs, his teeth skidding off the hard surface leaving not the slightest trace of a mark. Beast danced up and down furiously and would have returned for a second attack, had Braldt not seized him and grabbed his muzzle. Even then, Beast continued to growl.

  “Traitors!” The hard one spoke aloud, a peculiar, metallic voice similar to the voice in the corridor that had warned of danger, except that there was an added tone, one of arrogance. “Return to your positions immediately and there will be fewer reprisals!”

  “We do not take your orders anymore,” Batta Flor said coldly. “You are ours to command, you will do our bidding now.”

  The hard one did not answer but bending at the waist drove his single functioning hand down through the water and into the floor. The fingers wrapped around the silver strip of metal that served as some sort of support and ripped it free all in a single instant before any of them had even guessed at its intent. Rising, the hard one slashed out at them and they barely avoided being cut by the sharp edges. Braldt drew his sword and sliced downward, catching the silver strip and halting its return.

  Braldt had expected to break the hard one’s grip, to knock the strip of metal out of its hand, but he had totally underestimated its strength, which was equal to, if not greater than, his own. It was unnatural. The strip of metal pressed upward against the force of the sword and slid sideways with a grating screech of metal on metal. The hard one recovered almost before Braldt realized what was happening and swung the gleaming strip of metal in a vicious curve that would have cut Braldt in half had it landed. He leaped aside, feeling the first twinges of real concern over the spread of the hard one’s reactions.

  Braldt danced backward, giving himself time to think as the hard one moved forward, his movements unhindered by the calf-deep water. Batta Flor and Keri moved as well, intending to come to his rescue, but he waved them back, knowing that Keri could in no way stand up to the thing. Batta Flor was unwilling to stand and watch however, and ignoring Braldt’s warning, he picked up a heavy chair and swung it at the hard one. The chair shattered on impact, breaking into a number of small pieces, and the hard one turned toward the Madrelli, the strip of metal held before it like a sword.

  Almost faster than the eye could follow, the hard one lunged forward, thrusting its metal rod before it in a classic sword thrust. But fast as it was, the Madrelli was faster and he leaned to one side avoiding the
thrust and grabbing the hard one’s wrist and arm attempting to force it down.

  The arm began to rise, barely slowed by the Madrelli’s weight, and Braldt could see that the point of the metal strip was aimed for the Madrelli’s throat. He hurled himself on the hard one’s back, wrapping his arms around its neck, trying to force it backward, but to no avail for the thing was endowed with unbelievable strength.

  The hard one’s head turned toward him, turning farther than a head should turn, and looked at him with sightless eyes. “You too will die, all of you will die for daring to defy the masters.” Braldt could see that the point of the metal strip was now touching Batta Flor’s throat. The hard one’s hand had twisted in the Madrelli’s grip and imprisoned it in an unbreakable hold. Batta Flor pulled against the implacable grasp and Braldt could tell by the fear in his eyes that he could not free himself. The metal rod pressed against the dark fur at Batta Flor’s throat.

  “Well, maybe we are going to die, but it’s not going to be anytime soon,” said Braldt, and reaching into the open panel in the hard one’s back, he began ripping out wires and their terminus boxes, not bothering to be selective but pulling out anything that would move. Sparks flew and a buzzing staticy sound filled the air. The hard one jerked violently, staggered forward, and then toppled face forward into the water where it lay unmoving like a dead thing.

  Batta Flor, his hand pressed against his throat, which leaked a small amount of blood, felt behind him and found a desktop where he collapsed, breathing hard. Braldt crouched at his side, his hand on the Madrelli’s shoulder, feeling his own heart still slamming against his ribs, and realized for the very first time what formidable enemies and taskmasters the hard ones had been. Such strength! It was terrifying to be so completely outmatched. Only then did he begin to appreciate the courage of the fallen Arba Mintch and his companions. It was nothing less than a miracle that Batta Flor had lived to tell the tale.

  “Sorry,” gasped the Madrelli. “I guess that was a mistake, but I really thought that I could do it, separate the machine from the masters.”

  Braldt looked at the Madrelli with concern, wondering at the tone of despair in his voice. “Do not worry yourself. It was a good idea, no harm done.”

  “You don’t understand,” Batta Flor said, raising his head and looking at Braldt with an anguished expression. “That voice… the hard ones cannot speak for themselves. I thought that I could do it, separate the two. But it spoke. I was wrong.”

  “You mean that was the voice of the masters?” Braldt asked with growing certainty.

  Batta Flor nodded. “And now they know that we are here.”

  “But what can they do?” asked Keri. “They can’t do anything. Nothing has changed. If they had been able to do something, they’d have done it long ago. So they know we’re here. So what. Let them worry for a while, they can’t do anything to hurt us!”

  Keri’s impassioned words brought a smile to Braldt’s and Batta Flor’s faces and the tension seemed to lift from their shoulders. “She’s right,” Batta Flor said somewhat sheepishly. “I apologize for my fear, but we have suffered so much for so long… I—I…”

  “No need to apologize, I was scared senseless myself. Tough opponent. Amazing power. We’re lucky it had but the one hand or things might have ended differently.”

  “I know that Keri is right, the masters cannot hurt us, but still I feel that time is running out. I think that we must hurry, my friends. We must do what we have come for if it is possible and leave as quickly as possible. There is a feeling of wrongness in the air, a feeling of danger that has been with me since we entered this level. Call me foolish if you will, but let us leave this place as soon as we are able.”

  Keri and Braldt offered no argument for they too had felt the hostile emanations and were grateful to Batta Flor for speaking of them. They wasted no time in leaving the workroom, avoiding the dark figure that lay facedown, unmoving, in the water.

  Batta Flor stuffed a few objects into a sack before they left, and as they walked swiftly down the corridor, barely glancing at the room that opened on either side, he handed Keri and Braldt long, slender tubes, no thicker than their thumb. He showed them how to depress a button at the base and chuckled at their cries of amazement when a bright beam of light shot out the far end.

  And then they were there, a flat panel, no more than three feet square, screwed into the side of the wall. Batta Flor took a tool from the bag, fitted the metal tip into the grooved slot, and turned it quickly. In no time at all, the panel had been removed and beyond it they could see a smaller space, a shining hollow metal square. And close, very close, was the sound of running water.

  “Leave everything behind except the light wands,” Batta Flor directed. “It will be a closer fit and there will be no room for excess baggage.”

  “But what about our weapons, surely we should take those!”

  “No, my brother, there is no danger other than the water and swords cannot protect us against that. If we are successful at stopping the flow, then we will be able to enter the chamber and retrieve the medicine box. We will also be able to leave the mountain and journey home. We will have no need of weapons. If we fail, well, weapons will be of no use to us if we are dead. Leave them, leave everything and let us be on our way.”

  It felt very odd to shed the various packs, pouches, swords, belts, and oddments that they had carried with them for so long, but they could clearly see that Batta Flor was right, the space was very small. It was hard to believe that one so large as Batta Flor would be able to fit, but he crouched low before the opening and, entering elbows first, disappeared into the silvery cube.

  Braldt went next, wanting Keri at the rear should disaster befall them, allowing her a chance to escape, although where she would escape to was a question he could not have answered. Braldt could hear Beast whining in the distance and knew that the pup would not want to enter the strange hole. Nor would he want to be left behind. A short time later, Braldt heard the scrape of Beast’s claws on the metal floor and knew that the pup had followed.

  The metal enclosure was small, smaller than Braldt had anticipated; there was scarcely room for his shoulders and only by hunching them inward was he able to move forward. Movement was an awkward business, achieved by punching down with one’s elbows and then pushing off against the metal; the rest of one’s body was dragged behind.

  It was hot in the metal enclosure and it moved constantly, although whether it was from their efforts or the movement of the mountain, Braldt could not have said. It seemed sturdy enough and that was all that really concerned him. They crawled on and on, seemingly for hours, pausing from time to time as Batta Flor came to junctions and made decisions as to which way they should go. In this they were forced to depend on him completely for it was his knowledge of the mountain stronghold that they were relying on.

  The metal enclosure widened into a space roughly four feet by four feet with room for all of them to squeeze together. Batta Flor was grinning widely. “We have done it,” he chuckled. “We are directly above the control chamber.” He was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the noise of rushing water. The small chamber was swaying back and forth, buffeted by a constant force that was extremely unnerving.

  “What are we going to do now?” Keri asked, looking around nervously and hugging Beast tightly.

  “We are not going to do anything. You are going to stay here and wait for me. I am going over there and place this charge against the wall. I’m going to try and bring the wall down, seal off the water.”

  “Where will it go if you seal the chamber,” Braldt asked. “Can it push out through its old channel?”

  “I don’t think so,” answered Batta Flor. “We did a good job of bringing the mountain down, but don’t forget that there are many levels beneath this one. One level down is the launching pad with corridors hewn out of the bedrock. I think the water will channel itself there although where it will exit I cannot say. Wherever it goes, it
will give us the time we need to retrieve the box and make our way out to safety. Now, stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

  However, Batta Flor’s directive were issued too soon, for the duct that he had intended to follow was narrower than the one they had entered and no matter how hard he squirmed, it was impossible to fit his bulk through the small channel.

  “Give it to me,” said Braldt, reaching out his hand for the device that Batta Flor held so gingerly, “I will go.”

  “You cannot, you do not know what has to be done.”

  “Then explain it to me quickly, for it seems that I am our only hope.” Batta Flor looked at Braldt and it was easy to read the indecision in his eyes. Just then a heavy tremor jolted the metal enclosure, one that shook the entire system, setting it to rattling all up and down its length. Somewhere in the distance, they could hear a great clanging as a section detached and fell, striking hard and bouncing again and again until they could hear it no longer. Wind whipped through the duct, hot and stinking of searing heat, burning their faces and stinging their nostrils.

  Batta Flor handed Braldt the object, placing it gently in the center of his palm. “This is commandite. You must place it carefully, press it up against the wall directly above the flood so that it will bring the mass of rock down, shutting off the flow. Here, I will draw it out for you.” He bent forward, crouching over the metal floor and picking up his dagger, and traced out the shape of the room that lay below them. It was six-sided. The water had entered on the right and punched a hole directly opposite. Batta Flor traced out the path of the metal duct, noting that it passed directly above the entry point of the water.

  “You must break through the bottom of the duct and through the ceiling panels as well. This will help you in that task.” He handed Braldt the slender tool he had used to open the duct panel in the hallway.

  “How close to the ceiling is the water?” Keri asked, her face pale with fear.

  “I have no way of knowing,” replied Batta Flor. “From the sounds of it, I would say that it is quite close.”