The Atomic Sea: Volume Ten: Into the Dark Lands

by Jack Conner

  “We did it, sir,” one of the men said, approaching Janx but making no comment on his condition. “We’ve secured the docks.”

  “Well done,” Janx said, and moved to take command of the situation, ordering a sweep of the boats and airships of the yard. Avery, numbed by his realization regarding the seals, barely noticed as Janx oversaw the implementation of the next segment of the plan. Meanwhile Avery and Sheridan boarded the Muirblaag and came back out with the Codex.

  On cue, Sea Guard zeppelins, helicopters and boats swarmed to the fortress island, called in by Duke Leshillibn. Some went straight for the prison and unloaded their team of soldiers to quell the riot. Others landed in the yard. Janx waited for the activity to grow thick, then ordered the Ysstral airship they’d commandeered to lift off. None of the other ships seemed to think anything of it. There was too much commotion to take notice of one friendly ship.

  “A shame to leave her,” Janx said, staring down at the Muirblaag.

  “She was a good ship,” Avery agreed, but he knew it had meant more than that to Janx. It had been some echo of his friend.

  As Janx returned to business, Avery watched the prison recede through the windows of the bridge, but his mind was somewhere else. Sheridan stood beside him, silent. He wondered if she’d seen it, too, but didn’t think so. To the side, a nurse was tending to Hildra. When he could free himself, Janx checked on Hildra, then drew Avery aside. The big man’s face was as grim and haunted as Avery had ever seen it. Janx must have noticed it, too, then.

  “That big seal ...” Janx said. He started to say more, but couldn’t.

  Shakily, Avery nodded. “It had to be.”

  Janx adjusted his nasal patch in a nervous gesture, and Avery noted that his skin had turned yellow. Avery felt it, also. For a moment the two said nothing. The implications were too monstrous to give voice to.

  Finally, Janx said, “Don’t tell them, Doc. The women. They can never know. What we’ve been eating ...”

  Avery breathed out. “Of course. But ... gods ... that means ... all those people getting sick, all those people never seen again ...”

  “I know.”

  “ ... and the seals, being hunted, being eaten, and then the eaters falling sick and turning ... The duke must know; hells, he must have dreamt it up! ... damn it all, Janx ...”

  “I know, Doc. I know.”

  Avery wanted a drink. “They must go mad in stages. He may have saved us tonight, but soon Rolf will be laughing soon, too, I have no doubt.”

  “I know.”

  “I saw them, Janx. I can never forget it now. I looked into the seals’ faces and saw the eyes of men.”

  * * *

  Later, Sheridan pulled him into a quiet corner, and, though still shaky, he allowed her to cup his face in her palm and to plant a kiss on his lips.

  “I was worried about you,” she said. “When I heard you’d been beaten and taken away ...”

  He made himself smile. He kissed her again, more enthusiastically this time. “I know. I was worried, too.” Mischievously, he added, “How was bunking with Hildra?’

  Her eyes narrowed. “We shall never speak of it.”

  She embraced him. As he felt the length of her body pressing against him, some of his horror vanished, and something else, something far better, rose in its place.

  “I can’t wait to get you alone,” she said into his ear.

  Salanth encircled the harbor with hungry arms. The man Janx relinquished control of the stolen zeppelin to dropped Avery and the other three off on the top of a tenement building at the southernmost arm, then brought the zeppelin up again, and with the cold wind on his scalp, carrying with it the burning rain, Avery watched the airship disappear into the night. He flicked his umbrella open and shielded himself from the spray.

  “Guess we’re hoofing it again, folks,” Janx said.

  “Guess so,” Hildra said.

  “Think they can really make international waters before the Sea Guard sets after them?” Avery said.

  “They’d better,” Janx said.

  Sheridan glanced up at where the airship had vanished. “I hate to give up those soldiers. With them at least we had some strength.”

  “There’s no way they could pass through Salanth undetected,” Avery said. “Our only hope is stealth.”

  “It’s still a shame.”

  “Well, shit,” said Hildra. “For once I find myself agreeing with ... her.”

  Avery almost smiled. Hildra hadn’t called Sheridan that bitch. Maybe some good had come of them sharing a cell together.

  “Wish I had my hook,” Hildra added, eyeing her unadorned stump, and Avery didn’t blame her her sense of vulnerability. To be crippled and all but alone in a strange land was no easy thing. Raising her eyes, Hildra glared across the harbor at the lights of Curluth Point, where her hook probably still resided—that is, if the Duke hadn’t thrown it into the sea. “That bastard,” she said. “We’ll make him choke on what he did.”

  He did more than you know, Avery thought. The monstrousness of it still sickened him. It was all he could do not to throw up.

  “It’s over, anyway,” he said. “We’re free. I half thought we’d never get out of there.”

  “I knew we would,” Sheridan said. She stood next to him, and they weren’t quite holding hands.

  “How?”

  “Because we had no choice.”

  They entered the building through the rooftop access (its locked door proved to be a thin obstacle against Hildra and Janx) and navigated their way down through its reeking innards. Somewhere a couple was having an argument, but Avery didn’t bother to try to turn on his inner translator. The smell of spicy, paprika-flavored cooking drifted from one apartment. Finally Avery and the others emerged onto street level and pushed along the sidewalk. Cars trundled past, and the four tried to look inconspicuous. They had dressed themselves in the only clothes available aboard the Ysstral airship—Sea Guard uniforms. The one Janx had selected proved a little small, and it strained against his physique almost comically. Still, Avery didn’t think they looked too out of place. There would be other soldiers, surely.

  Rain fell, and the four huddled tighter, all holding umbrellas aloft; there had been plenty aboard the zeppelin. Even so, Avery could feel a soft patter against him, driven by the wind, and where it touched him it stung. They would have to double up on their pollution pills. He noticed the local pedestrians wore wax-treated clothes and gloves, in addition to their hoods. The sailors’ uniforms, meant for indoor work aboard an airship, came with no such luxuries. Some of the locals gave the group queer looks, and Avery had to assume it was because of their lack of protective garments.

  “So what now?” Hildra said.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Sheridan said.

  They all murmured agreement. When next they passed a street vendor, they purchased (using the small amount of money they’d been able to find aboard the ship) some fried and spicy meat stuffed into a bun shaped like a turtle shell. Avery munched his gratefully.

  “Thank the gods,” Hildra said. “No more fucking seal.”

  Avery and Janx shared dark looks.

  They were passing strange Ysstral buildings, and Avery’s attention wandered to them. He hadn’t noticed it on his way in, but the lower reaches of the buildings here were overgrown in moss, all of it phosphorescent and glowing brightly, some in lime greens, some red, some gold. It made sense, he supposed. Moss did well in a wet environment, and this was no ordinary wetness. It also provided an interesting parallel to the glowing domes of Xlatleb.

  “It’s kind of beautiful,” Sheridan said, which Avery thought was surprising. Maybe Janx was right. She may be tough, but she’s still human, after all. She can appreciate beauty.

  “Ever been to the Empire before?” Hildra asked her, and off Sheridan’s head-shake, she said, “I have. Don’t get excited. Look.” With her stump, she pointed toward a certain building. Something moved a
long the flat vertical surface of its front. Many somethings.

  Avery squinted. “Is that ... ?”

  “Sure is. Snails.”

  Hundreds of large snails, each probably weighing two hundred to four hundred pounds, if not more, slithered along the building’s façade, shells glistening in the rain.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Snail farms,” Janx said. “See those overhangs? Those are where the herders are. Shellers, some call them.”

  Avery looked. Sure enough, under certain overhangs at various points along the building’s face lurked men and women riding what looked like giant salamanders, sticking easily to the vertical surface with their suckered toes.

  “Snail herders?” Avery said.

  “Can’t let ‘em wander off now, can you? Salamanders are immune to the rain. See, the area around here is too rocky for good grazing, so animals that eat grass and such are out. And they don’t do well here, anyway. But giant snails? Perfect. So building owners rent out their surfaces to snail farmers and the like.”

  “Just when I thought I’d seen everything,” Sheridan said.

  “Oh, you’ll see that and more, honey,” Hildra said, and Avery shook his head at the word. Just how close had she and Sheridan gotten, anyway? Could they possibly be becoming ... friends? “This is one of the most fucked up places I’ve ever been,” Hildra added.

  “Maybe we can see more of the city tomorrow,” Avery suggested. “I doubt we can do much more tonight.” He glanced at the black sky, stars hidden by clouds. “It’s late, and I’m sure we’re all tired. I think it’s time we looked for a hotel. This seems to be a poor area, which is probably better for us.” They had a few hundred dollars of the local currency, no more. “They’re probably less likely to check our IDs, too.”

  “I don’t think a hotel is the way to go,” Sheridan said. “The Duke will be after us. Once he has time to think about it, he’ll realize we would have kept going into Salanth. His people will be searching for us in every dive this side of the Borghese.”

  “What, then?” Hildra said.

  “We could sleep outside, I suppose. In an alley, maybe.”

  “In this rain?” Avery said. “No, we need shelter.”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Janx said.

  Hildra raised her eyebrows. “You?”

  “There’s a guy I know, runs an underground fighting pit. He won’t rat us out. He hides hot folk like us all the time. Charges a pretty yllim for it, though.” To Hildra, he said, significantly, “We’ll need to come up with some dough.”

  “I guess that could be arranged.”

  “Wait a minute,” Avery said. “I don’t think we should be attempting any sort of ... thievery. What if we get caught? We could blow this whole thing.”

  “We’re not attempting anything,” Hildra said. “I am. You guys wait for me. If I’m not back in a couple of hours, I’m not coming back. You’ll have to go on without me.” She pointed to a tea house. “Wait there.”

  She started to move off, but Janx grabbed her arm. Glaring back at him, she wrenched her arm free.

  “Let go.”

  “I just ...” He appeared lost for words. At last he planted a kiss on her lips. She gave in, but only a little, then broke away, wiping her mouth.

  “Are we done?”

  He stared at her. “Good luck.”

  She turned and slipped away into the rain, vanishing between drops. Avery started to say something to Janx, but the look on the big man’s face stopped him. They marched to the tea house, ordered a drink and settled in for a wait. Minutes passed, then an hour. When two hours ticked by, they simply ordered another drink. At midnight the shop owner closed down, and they camped outside on the sidewalk under the overhang, watching the snails move across the moss of the opposite building, leaving trails in the glowing field of green. It was strangely hypnotic, and beautiful.

  Janx’s face grew drawn, but he rarely spoke. Hildra should have been back hours ago.

  At last, about an hour after midnight, he looked up with a smile. At first Avery thought Hildra was on the way back, but there was no one.

  “Did I ever tell you about how Hildra lost her hand?” Janx said.

  “Never,” Avery said. “I’ve always wondered.”

  “Actually, I have, too,” admitted Sheridan. “I asked her once in Curluth and she told me she’d stuck it down a traitor’s throat and broken it off.”

  “Well, it happened like this,” Janx said. “Hildra left home at a young age—it was a dark and gloomy place—and took to wandering. Wasn’t long before she found out she could finance her travels in one of two ways: whoring or thieving. Well, she learned to steal like no other. But there came a time when she found herself in Kzai, dry and full of sand—and money. She learned of this rare jewel the Sultain had just acquired, famed throughout the continent for its beauty—it glimmered rose-pink in the rising sun and shaded to brilliant orange at dusk. It was called the Star of Yig. Hildra had to have it. With it she would never have to steal again—at least, if she could bear to part with it.

  “The only way she could figure to get close to it, though, was to do the one thing she’d sworn never to do. Sleep with a man she didn’t want. Well, it happened that the Sultain liked white women—quite a bit, really—and was always in the market for a new exotic pale flower to add to his harem. Using some of her ill-got earnings, Hildra had herself invited to a posh party, dressed herself in silks and jewels, and caught the Sultain’s eye. He must’ve liked what he saw. He didn’t just want to add her to his harem, he started to court her.”

  “Indeed.” Sheridan’s voice was ironic.

  “He wooed her with everything he had. He threw lavish gifts at her, took her to the most fabulous sights in all his land. None of it was good enough for her. She wanted a look at the jewel. He desired her, ached for her so badly it was driving him crazy, but she wouldn’t let him do more than kiss her goodnight until she could at least lay eyes on the Star of Yig. One day he gave in. Gods help the poor bastard, he gave in. He took her deep into the palace, where the Star was kept, his hidden treasure, and let her feast her eyes upon it. Not only that, but he let her hold it and wear it in a chain about her neck—at least, for that night. In the morning it was to be returned, and she was never to be out of his sight until then. But of course she had a cure for that.”

  “She took him to bed,” Sheridan said.

  “So she did. So she did. Afterward he was so wiped out he couldn’t move. He sprawled in the sheets, drowsy and sated, and slept the sleep of a truly happy man. As soon as she heard him snore, Hildra lit out with the Star. She had some trouble getting clear of the palace, but she managed it. It was only when she was arranging transportation in the city that another woman, a woman who’d tried and failed to catch the Sultain’s eye and held it against Hildra, saw her. The woman was suspicious of why a soon-to-be-wife, or at least concubine-to-be, of the Sultain would be fleeing in the dead of night. She alerted the authorities, who wasted no time in seizing the heroine of our wee tale and going through her things. She’d hidden the Star well, but a thing like that can only be so hard to find.

  “The trial was swift and the punishment never in doubt. Kzai is a barbaric land in many ways, and their custom is to cut off the hand of a thief. Left hand at the first offense, right the second. The Sultain himself, wiping tears to float a pig, as he’d fallen hard for Hildra, wielded the blade. He cut off her hand at the wrist, then banished her from the kingdom. He must have been mocked for having been so deceived, though—humiliated—because it wasn’t long before he put a hit out on her head. When she showed up on my doorstep in Hissig, she had a passel of Kzain assassins after her. How she got out of that one I’ll save for another day.”

  He sobered, and when he spoke again his voice was rough, and his eyes had grown watery, just a bit. “That was the first time I ever saw her, Doc. I’ll never forget it. She’d been on the run for weeks, maybe months. She’d lost weight and was s
kinny enough to lift with a finger. I could see her ribs. Her stump was red and inflamed. She was the most pitiful, desperate thing you ever saw. And yet ...” Slowly, he smiled, and the moisture in his eyes grew thicker, but did not quite spill over. “... yet she was fiercer than a she-wolf with rabies. I think I knew right then that I loved her, just a little. I guess she’d heard about me, knew I hired out for bodyguard work from time to time. Probably she meant to bat her eyes at me and get me to do her dirty work, then she’d be on her way. When it was all over though, she stayed. No matter where I’ve gone since or how long I’ve been gone, she’s always been there waiting for me when I got back. And ... I don’t know what I’d ever do if she wasn’t.”

  “That’s a hell of a story,” Avery said, when it was clear Janx was done.

  “How much of it’s true?” asked Sheridan.

  “Every word of it, lass. Every word.”

  “I’d believe him,” Avery said. “What’s always surprised me most about Janx’s stories is just how true they turn out to be.”

  “There was one flaw in it,” said Hildra, coming in out of the dark.

  The others exclaimed and leapt up, Avery and Janx taking turns hugging her. She was filthy and ragged, her clothes torn and fresh blood leaking from a cut on the side of her neck.

  “What flaw was that, darlin’?” Janx said.

  “The Sultain meant to take my right hand,” she said. “He was so angry he just wanted revenge, he didn’t care about the law. But he was too drunk and couldn’t tell one hand from the other. He missed.”

  “Thank the gods for that,” said Janx.

  He kissed her again, and this time she didn’t pull away. Instead, after a moment she pressed herself against him. As the kiss went on, Avery actually felt himself flush and turned away to give them privacy.

  When they broke, Janx said, “We were worried about you.”

  “Yeah, well. Getting in was easy. Getting out, I got seen. Guess I’m out of practice. Anyway, I had to lose them. It took awhile. Fortunately this town is one great place to shake a tail. There’s enough shadows and corners in this hellhole for ten cities.”