Stars & Empire: 10 Galactic Tales

by Jay Allan

  “I’ve met the Users.”

  “Really?” Briar wiped at his brow, visibly perspiring now. “Interesting. I’ve never been sure if they were just some rogue organization invented by the gols as a funnel for our hate. A political tool. Your little terrorist act caught the attention of the Users, did it? Terrorism attracts terrorists, I suppose.”

  Hoodwink held up his hand, extending one index finger. Sparks of electricity danced from it. Briar flinched.

  “What are you hiding, Briar?” Hoodwink said.

  “Well!” Briar stood. “Good luck to you in your adventures on the Outside and all. Tally-ho.” He turned toward the hall, but was too late, it seemed, because Cora stood transfixed behind him.

  “Cora darling,” Briar said. “I told you to stay in your room.”

  She pushed past him.

  “So it really is you.” Cora stood over Hoodwink. “I knew Briar lied to me. He told me the maid had shooed off some beggar at our door. But then while I was lying on my bed, I heard your voice, and I thought, no, it can’t be. Surely Hoodwink wouldn’t come here, of all places. Surely Hoodwink wouldn’t dare set foot in my brother’s home. Not after what he did to me.” Cora had never forgiven him for what happened to their daughter, and she never would, though she knew it wasn’t his fault.

  Hoodwink didn’t meet her eye. “I’ve talked to our daughter, Cora. She’s well. Doesn’t remember us, of course.”

  “Can’t you just leave her alone, Hood?” Cora said. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

  He was going to say more about Ari, but there was something he wanted to mention first. “When Briar told me you went to Rhagnorak, I was so happy for you Cora. Happy that you’re finally living your life again. I want you to succeed. I always have. You should really go. Make the application if you haven’t. Be happy.”

  He risked meeting her gaze. Her face was full of ire, and resentment.

  “Happy?” She seemed to spit the word. “I can never be happy again. Not after…” She shook her head. “No, I’m not going to Rhagnorak. Happiness? I’m happy just to make it through to the next day. One morning at a time, that’s the only way I can face life. Now, if you don’t mind.” She gestured toward the door.

  Hoodwink didn’t move. “Don’t you want to hear what our daughter had to say?”

  “It’s not her anymore, Hoodwink. When are you going to get that in your head? She’s lost to us.”

  “All right,” he said. “All right. There’s another reason I came.”

  “Please, say what you came to say then, and just go.”

  Hoodwink sighed. “As you wish. I came to say good-bye, I did. And, well, I’ve never stopped loving you, for what it’s worth.”

  She smiled sardonically. “Not much. Good-bye then. Now go.”

  This wasn’t quite going the way he’d expected. Not at all. She was trying to hurt him. Well, he could hurt her back so easily. With all your brother’s money, you couldn’t save her, he wanted to say. Though you ran into his arms, begging him to take you in. But no, he wasn’t here to hurt her, and doing so wouldn’t lessen his own feelings of guilt.

  “There’s something else,” he said. “But before I say anything more, I want you to know, I’m not telling you this to hurt you.” He swallowed nervously. “Our daughter was the one who planted the bomb at the Forever Gate.”

  Cora’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.

  “The Users put her up to it. She’s one of them, now. They wanted her to cross to the Outside. They wanted her to talk to the gols out there.”

  “Stop it.” Cora said. “Stop it. Stop it! Get out of here!”

  He barreled on. It was important to him that she knew his sacrifice. “I wouldn’t let her do it. The Users are sending me in her place. I’ll probably die.”

  “Please,” Cora said, covering her face. “Just go.”

  He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, yet it appeared he’d done that very thing. He took a step forward. “Cora. I didn’t mean—”

  Briar hugged her, and turned her away from him. “Hoodwink…”

  “I’m sorry,” Hoodwink said, feeling terrible. Why did he always hurt those closest to him? He went to the front door.

  Before he could open it, a harsh knock came from outside. “City watch! Open up!”

  Hoodwink froze, and shot Briar an accusing glance.

  “Sorry, Hood.” Briar backed away, bringing Cora with him. “I really am. They’ve been watching my house since your escape.”

  The door thudded so heavily that it shook on its hinges. “Open up now or we’ll break it down!”

  “You bastard.” The sparks flared on Hoodwink’s knuckles. But it was just a show. He wasn’t fully charged, not even close. He wouldn’t be able to take on the city guard, not in his condition. “You didn’t say a word. How did they get to you? Yesterday you were begging to save my life.”

  Briar’s chin quivered. “Yesterday you were collared. Innocent until proven guilty, and all that. Today you’re a User fugitive. A terrorist. I had to give you up. Mayor Jeremy promised he’d have my hide if I harbored you.”

  “Jeremy.” Hoodwink nearly spat the name. “Bad move, Briar. Very bad move. Because now I’ll have your hide.”

  Hoodwink drew his green sword and Cora screamed. Hoodwink had wanted to scare Briar, not her, and when he saw the look of fear on his wife’s face, a look that said “I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Hoodwink felt utter shame.

  The knock came again, more frantic.

  Hoodwink raced into the hall past Cora and Briar, making for the rear entrance. He heard Briar open the front door to the troops, heard the clank as the gols dashed onto the travertine floor behind him.

  He swept through the kitchen toward the back door. The scullery maids screamed at the sight of his sword.

  The back door abruptly flung open and reserve troops flooded in with swords raised.

  CHAPTER 8

  Hoodwink backtracked through the kitchen and took the short staircase in the hall moments before the troops from the front converged on him. He climbed those stairs three at a time and came out at a lung-burning dash onto the second floor. Shouts came from behind as he sprinted across the deerskin carpet, toward the window that backed onto the rear alley. He leaped, and swung his sword to shatter the glass as he struck.

  He was counting on the deep snow drifts in the alley outside to pad his fall, and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Hey!” One of the sentries assigned to the back door outside spotted him.

  Covered in snow, Hoodwink rolled to his feet and waded through the alleyway drifts, the shouts of pursuit harrying him on.

  He stumbled over the windrow that blocked the end of the alleyway, and emerged onto the main street, thankful that the gols had shoveled this quarter of the city.

  He ran for some time. Behind, the guards gave chase, harrying him on.

  He veered onto Luckdown district and the path became bumpy with unshoveled snowpack.

  Hoodwink nearly slipped more than once, though he had nails hammered point-first through the soles of his boots. The shouts grew closer. He glanced over his shoulder. The guards were only paces behind.

  Hoodwink took a sharp right at Down Street. Too sharp. He slid right into a foodcart.

  He scrambled to his feet—

  Into the arms of a guard.

  “Give ‘er up, krub!” the gol said, tightening his arms around Hoodwink’s chest. Others quickly approached—

  Hoodwink angled the guard between himself and the bottom of Down Street, and then he hurled himself backward. He and the guard tumbled onto the sloped snowpack and gravity took over. The two slid down the steep hill, picking up speed by the moment. Bumps in the packed snow jolted the two continuously. The few street-goers gave the pair a wide berth, not wanting to join in that perilous slide.

  The soldier tightened his grip during the descent, slowly crushing the air from Hoodwink’s lungs. Hoodwink tried to pry that grip open, but it was li
ke trying to take off one of the collars. He focused on the spark inside him instead. He wouldn’t be able to generate much. He closed his eyes, and released a flare of electricity up and down his torso. The man’s arms jolted away.

  Handy, that.

  Still sliding down, Hoodwink turned and gave the gol a good punch to the nose. Finally the road curved up to catch them, and the two slid to a halt. Hoodwink scrambled to his feet, kicked the gol in the belly for good measure, and raced on. About five seconds behind him, the four remaining soldiers slid to the bottom of the street and gave chase.

  There was a market ahead, one that was always crowded after snowstorms. Sure enough the throngs were packing it today. He hurried in among the crowds, weaving his way past peddlers, entertainers, and beggars. He quickly sat down beside a stand of skewered dog meat, lowered his head and extended his hand like the beggars he so feared, and waited.

  The four guards jostled their way through the market. They passed almost right in front of him, oblivious to his presence.

  The instant they had gone, Hoodwink stood up and hurried from the square.

  He’d made it.

  It wasn’t long before he reached Forever Street, the road that lay in the shadow of the Gate. You could circle the entire city if you walked that street long enough. Beside it, the aptly-named wall that was the Forever Gate reached into the sky, the topmost edges lost in the clouds. The Forever Gate entombed the city, preventing all access to the Outside.

  He passed the section where Ari had placed the bomb the day before. The area was blackened, but otherwise unharmed. One would have expected the gols to beef up their presence after an attack like that, but there actually seemed less gols along this portion of the wall today. There weren’t enough of them to watch every section of the Gate every waking moment, Hoodwink supposed, especially when the wall was, by all indications, indestructible.

  He soon met up with Leader. The ancient man observed the Forever Gate from the shade of a vendor who sold maps and miniature replicas of the city.

  “Your goodbyes went well?” Leader asked, his breath misting. He stared off to the side in that way he had of not meeting one’s eye.

  “Splendid.” Hoodwink picked up a replica of the city.

  The vendor immediately stood up. “Touch and pay,” the middle-aged woman said.

  Hoodwink gingerly returned the replica.

  Ari came up beside him and saved him from the woman by giving him a hug.

  “How did it go?” Ari said. She carried two duffel bags, one big and one small, on each shoulder.

  Hoodwink smiled sadly. “Cora says goodbye.”

  “You told her everything?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll seek her out,” Ari said. “Let her know you spoke the truth.”

  “She knows.” Hoodwink shook his head. “But don’t go to her. It’s probably better if she never sees you again.”

  Ari seemed about to contest him, but then she bit back whatever it was she was going to say.

  Leader rested a palsied hand on his shoulder and finally turned that penetrating gaze on him. “Time wastes. Are you ready?”

  Hoodwink shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”

  Ari handed the larger duffel bag to Hoodwink, and kept the smaller one for herself. Then he and Ari walked on either side of Leader, helping the haggard man through the streets. Leader verbally steered them down the byways to a secluded back alley.

  The snow was never shoveled here, nor was it packed by the tread of passersby, so the three of them had to wade and dig through snow that was sometimes chest high. They reached a rusty iron gate that was nearly buried by the drifts, and Leader opened it with a key he’d brought along. The gate was like a portcullis, and they were able to slide it upward with some difficulty. Once through, Hoodwink saw that the alley offered secluded access to a portion of the Gate.

  “Why didn’t you put the bomb here?” he said.

  Ari shook her head. “There’d be too much damage to the neighboring buildings. We didn’t want any human casualties, remember?”

  The three dug their way forward through the snow, until the sky-reaching wall consumed everything else. The Forever Gate. What looked like a flat, gray surface from far away was actually a craggy mountain of sheer, infinite stone. A silver rope dangled from the heights, and Hoodwink followed it with his eyes. He couldn’t see where the rope anchored—it became lost in the coarse texture of the wall a mile or so up.

  “You expect me to climb this?” Hoodwink pulled at the rope. He felt the echo of a distant vibration pass through the material. The sensation was eerie, like plucking the string of a giant lute.

  “Think of it as a symbol.” Leader gazed blankly up the wall. “Of the hurdles you’ve faced in this life. You have overcome them all to get to this point. Now you must overcome this last.” Leader turned his eyes downward, to the snow drift piled against the wall. “We tried to dig under it at first. Like the sappers of yesteryear. That proved a mistake. The wall is buried in the ground at least as deep as it is high. And digging through frozen ground isn’t a pleasant thing.” He pursed his lips. “It was the time of our exploratory years. When we believed the Outside a sanctuary. A few of us came up with the rope idea. Erdus and Callus were the first to surmount the wall. They’d practiced for years, taught themselves the lost art of mountaineering. It was they who anchored the ropes. Good men. Their loss was irreplaceable.” Leader’s eyes drifted upward. “The climb will take around five hours. You’ll find a new rope every half hour or so. There are ten in total. You’ve committed the address to memory?”

  Hoodwink sighed. “John Baker, son of Arrold Baker, 18 Market Street.” Though not a User, John was a close cousin of Leader. John assumed quite the risk by being their middle man. Hoodwink hoped the gols didn’t use him to hunt the rest of the Users down. But Ari and the others were too smart to let that happen.

  Leader motioned to the duffel bag slung over Hoodwink’s shoulder, the one Ari had given him. “Put on the climbing gear.”

  Hoodwink slid the bag to the ground. He removed his cloak and handed it to Ari, and then he opened the bag and retrieved a balaclava. He slid the warm cloth down over his face, properly aligning the eyeholes so he could see. He was worried at first that he wouldn’t have any air without holes for the nose and mouth, but he seemed to breathe fine through the balaclava’s fabric. His breath did sound loud in his ears, though.

  Next he swapped his thick mittens for the thinner climbing gloves contained in the bag.

  “Gloves with leather palms for rope handling,” Leader explained. “The tips can be folded back, and they become fingerless if you ever need a better grip. When you expose the fingers you’ll have to expend charge to keep from getting frostbite, of course.”

  Hoodwink slid the top section of the gloves open, and sure enough the tips of his fingers were exposed. He slid the gloves closed again. He reached into the duffel bag and removed a thick jacket and extra layer of pants.

  “Down jacket,” Leader said as and Hoodwink slid the jacket over his fleece sweater and buttoned up the front. “One of the thickest jackets available. Made with the down feathers from the Eider ducks of the south. You’ll be hot at first wearing that, but trust me, as you near the top of the Gate, you’ll be glad you have it. The pants are down-stuffed as well. You’ll have to leave your sword.”

  Hoodwink’s fingers protectively clasped the hilt. “What if I need it?” His voice sounded muffled inside the balaclava.

  Leader compressed his lips. “It’ll only weight you down. Won’t fit in the down pants anyway.”

  Ari stepped forward. “I’ll give you my dagger,” she offered.

  Hoodwink reluctantly unbuckled his sword and scabbard and gave it to Ari. He accepted her small dagger in exchange and stuffed it into an inner pocket of his jacket. Hoodwink slid the pants over his boots and up onto his existing woolen trousers, covering the dagger. He buttoned up the pants, and when he lowered his hands the jacket hem tu
mbled over his waist, ensuring that his midsection would remain warm during the climb.

  Hoodwink retrieved the next item from the bag—a pair of goggles.

  “Those are to protect your eyes from wind,” Leader said. “Frozen corneas aren’t a fun thing. You’re familiar with frostbite? Well, when a frozen cornea thaws out, it’s like a third degree burn in the eyes.”

  Hoodwink pulled the strap and gingerly lowered the goggles over his head. They fit securely over the eyeholes of the balaclava so that no portion of his face was now exposed. Although the periphery of his vision was blocked by the goggles, he could see well enough.

  The last items in the bag were a pair of spiked metal frames a little larger than his palms, with leather straps on top. Hoodwink held them up curiously.

  “Those are for your boots,” Leader said. “Crampons, they’re called. They give your feet purchase where there is none. You won’t really need them until you reach the icy patches higher up. Still, they shouldn’t wear down too badly against ordinary rock, and they’ll be a hassle to put on midway the climb, so I suggest you strap them on now.”

  Hoodwink slipped the crampons over his boots. The metal spikes protruded from all sides of each boot, with two particularly long, mandible-like extensions at the fronts. He tightened the straps, fitting the crampons securely to his boots. When he stood, it felt like he walked on nails, and he had to extend his arms for balance.

  The bag was now empty, and Hoodwink returned it to Ari. She stowed his cloak and sword inside, then slung it over her shoulder. She reached behind his head and raised the fur-lined hood of his jacket. She pulled the drawstrings, tightening the hood around his balaclava.

  “You were damn right about it being hot,” Hoodwink said, his voice sounding even more muffled now.

  Ari handed him the second, smaller duffel bag she carried.

  “In that one,” Leader said. “You’ll find the usual suspects. A water bladder. Probably will freeze solid higher up. A pee bottle. Probably won’t need it. Salted meat. Probably won’t be hungry. Couple of light ice axes. Oh, and the ever important rigged diary. Use it. Keep us updated.”