by Caro Soles
Beny squeezed through under Zox’s arm and saw the great Procession swaying towards them, children dancing before it. After them came a confused throng of brightly kilted young men carrying cages of woven rush filled with red and purple and blue-green birds, all screeching and squawking, adding their strident voices to the din. Beny winced, resisting the urge to cover his ears. “Can you see the Chief yet?” Beny shouted.
“Yes. He walks under a canopy held by Imperial Hunters.”
Beny started pushing forward and immediately the crowd surged with him, all seeing the Chief at the same time. They waved their wooden clappers and shouted at the tops of their lungs. One of the cages dropped and a swarm of birds flew upwards, circling the procession before disappearing into the bright lavender sky. The noise was deafening to his sensitive Merculian ears and the heat and the colors swirled around him, in noisy chaos. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, forcing his way through the dancing children and the boys carrying their cages, the mask-bearers and the first group of Elders and advisors who smiled at him indulgently.
Beny waved his arms and shouted, but his voice was lost in the noise around him and his frantic gestures were taken as some sort of alien ritual of enjoyment. The Elders laughed good-naturedly. The Chief turned and saw him and the dark face lightened in recognition. He paused.
“No!” screamed Beny. He had caught sight of a movement from a rooftop directly opposite. “Watch out! Be careful!” He saw a flash. Heard a scream. Felt a sudden burst of heat. A body slammed into him. Everything went black.
* * *
Thar-von became aware of the noise below them in the street and snapped his attention away from Xunanda. The jubilation had risen to such a pitch that they had to practically shout at each other to be heard. Suddenly as the Great Chief came in sight, walking under a feathered canopy on his way to the Hill of Dreams, the noise level became deafening as everyone waved wooden clappers in the air. The crowd seemed to swell, surging towards their leader as if wanting to touch him. Then there was a loud scream followed by a series of sharp explosions.
The procession wavered, the patterns changed. People screamed and tried to break away. The canopy fell. For an instant, Thar-von saw the great Chief of Abulon lying on the ground with blood on his chest. He also caught sight of Talassa-ran Zox. He saw him push Beny to the ground and then the crowd closed in and he lost them.
Thar-von turned and ran for the door.
“No!” Xunanda flung herself in front of him. “There’s nothing you can do!”
“I must go. It is my duty.” Thar-von removed her gently but firmly and tried to open the door. It was locked. He glanced out to the terrace but knew it was too far down for him to get out that way. Instinctively he backed up against the wall, feeling cornered. Xunanda was watching him closely. Her hands were clasped together in front of her but she seemed calm. “Am I the next hostage?” asked Thar-von coolly.
She shook her head. “You do not understand,” she said. She went to the table and pushed a buzzer carved among the oddly shaped fruits and flowers around the edge. After a moment, a section of the wall opened and a man entered. He had light brown shoulder length curls and the stocky build and copper eyes of the androids.
“What happened?” she asked.
“The Chief has been assassinated.”
“It is too soon,” she said.
“I agree. It is unfortunate, from that aspect.”
Thar-von felt for the reassuring hardness of the small hand weapon concealed in his belt. He slipped it into the palm of his hand. As far as he could tell, the newcomer was not armed.
“I am going to the aid of the Merculian Ambassador,” he said, starting towards the door in the wall.
They both looked at him, startled by the cold authority in his voice.
“It is already taken care of,” said the man. “We saw what happened. My people will bring them here safely.”
“Your people,” Thar-von repeated.
“Kahar is a Kolari,” Xunanda said. Thar-von waited in silence for an explanation. He kept his back to the wall, afraid that his heart might be clouding his judgement, making it difficult for him to assess the exact element of danger.
“We Kolaris are the second race on this planet,” Kahar began after a moment. “Long ago we were a peaceful, agrarian people living beyond the mountains. For centuries this natural barrier protected us and gave us a false sense of security. When the warrior Abulonians found us, we welcomed the newcomers, took them into our homes and showed them the secrets of the amazing technology we had developed.”
“My ancestors repaid this courtesy with treachery,” Xunanda broke in with feeling. “We killed their leaders and elders and enslaved their youth. Eventually my people set up a system of breeding farms to ensure a constant supply of slaves.”
“But why was the term ‘android’ used?” asked Thar-von.
“Originally it referred to the little mechanical servants the Kolaris built to do the heavy work on their farms. At first it was used in derision to apply to the slaves and little by little the original meaning of the word was lost.”
“I see.”
“You do not seem surprised,” observed Kahar. It was obvious that he was still suspicious of Thar-von.
“The Merculian Ambassador had already discovered that the so called ‘androids’ are sentient beings. The I.P.A. has been informed.”
“And?”
“There is no question of Abulon joining the Alliance under these circumstances.”
Thar-von tensed as the door in the wall flew open to admit two more Kolaris who carried a wounded Talassa-ran between them. Beny followed, clutching the Serpian’s jacket. Talassa-ran’s tunic was scorched and torn. His head was thrown back and a dark ooze of blood covered his shoulder.
Thar-von stepped forward and helped lay him down on the floor. Xunanda rushed to the corner of the room to bring water and hand towels.
Beny knelt beside Zox. His face was smudged and streaked with tears. “He saved my life,” he whispered hoarsely. “I was right in the line of fire and he threw himself on top of me. I was trying to warn the Chief.”
Thar-von tore the Serpian’s tunic away from the wound and examined it closely. “A knife,” he said. One of the Kolaris handed him a long hunting knife. Thar-von undid the fastenings on his sleeve and rolled it back above his elbow. “I am ready,” he said to Talassa-ran.
“No,” said Zox faintly. “It is too late for the mingling.” He closed his eyes, too weak to continue.
“It is not too late,” said Thar-von gently.
“It is my choice. Let it happen.”
“But Ran—”
“No,” Zox repeated. “I have bought back my honor with this act. Let it be.”
“What does he mean?” asked Beny, looking from Zox to Thar-von in confusion.
“Triani and that other Merculian dancer took my honor from me that night at the party before we left for this accursed mission. I was helpless and they took advantage of me.” Talassa-ran paused to gather his forces. “For this humiliation I arranged for him and the little one to be guided to the bar. It was in payment of a gambling debt. I did not know the little one would be taken as a hostage.”
“You betrayed them out of revenge,” breathed Beny.
“You are alive because of me,” Talassa-ran reminded him. “The knife, Del-k’sad.”
“You are aware?” asked Thar-von.
“Aware, yes.”
Thar-von laid the long-bladed knife in the Serpian’s hands and backed away. He helped Beny to his feet and moved him away from the wounded man. As Beny turned to ask him a question, Talassa-ran shouted, a harsh, strong, alien sound in the sun-filled room. He rolled onto the knife.
The others stared, uncomprehending, shock on their faces.
“You knew this would happen,” said Beny, at last. “Why did you help him?”
“It was his right as a Serpian Raider. He always tried to live by their code.”
&nb
sp; “That code saved my life.” Beny spread the jacket over the body and turned away. “I do not understand,” he murmured, wiping tears from his eyes. “The Chief! What happened?”
“He is dead.”
“I was trying to warn him!”
“Was it Yonan?” asked Thar-von.
“Possibly. Life is not simple here,” said Xunanda. “It has never been just Yonan and the Chief. There are many factions. I myself help the Kolaris get out to the hills where they can be free. Many have joined Yonan. Many are on their own. Those who are more militant have chosen to follow Norh.”
“So Norh could be the one behind this?” asked Thar-von.
“It is possible.” She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “He is known for being hot-headed. We do not know for certain.”
“I do,” said Beny. Every eye in the room looked at him. He suddenly remembered who he was, what he represented. He glanced at Thar-von. “But I can say nothing. There’s someone I have to talk to, first.”
TWENTY
The Great Hall echoed with the deep-voiced conversations of the soldiers as they laughed and talked, eating from wooden bowls they carried from table to table. Luan fingered his blue beads thoughtfully as he watched the scene. He glanced sideways at the stocky, brown-haired man with the coppery eyes who stood beside him. He couldn’t get used to the idea of these people being accepted as equals. All his life he had been taught to see the ‘androids’ as a subhuman, unintelligent species of servant, with a status slightly below that of a watch-dog. The idea had been constantly reinforced. He had never questioned it. In the last few hours of their early morning journey, Marselind had explained the truth about the Kolaris. Luan was stunned by the idea that his ancestors had dehumanized an entire race.
The man at his side was staring back at him boldly, quite unlike the androids Luan was used to in the city. There was anger in the copper eyes.
“You don’t believe what you’ve been told about us, do you?” the man said.
“I don’t want to believe it but I guess I have no choice.” Luan looked away, uncomfortable.
“If you were Chief tomorrow, what would you do about us?”
“Look, I haven’t had much time to think about this. Of course it has to be stopped, but you just can’t let loose thousands of people who have never been allowed to think for themselves.”
“So, what would you do?”
“Well, first I’d find out how you did it. How did you make the adjustment?”
“Good,” said the man, nodding approval. For an instant, Luan was stung that this object should condescend to him, but he bit back the rebuke.
“You still feel uncomfortable with me, don’t you?”
Luan shifted uneasily. This was not going to be easy. He made himself look the man right in the eye. “You’re the first andr— I mean Kolari, I’ve spoken to as an equal and it takes a little getting used to.”
“At least you’re honest.” He nodded and turned away.
Luan watched him for a moment, a strong, self-assured man striding towards the door, his long, wavy hair rising and falling as he moved. How had he made the switch from dehumanized, unquestioning machine to leader in so short a time? Luan started after him.
“Wait! Stop! I mean, please. I don’t know your name.”
The man turned, not trying to hide the amusement at the initial note of command in Luan’s voice which had changed in mid sentence to one of apology. “I’m Xenobar. I used to be an ‘android’ servant in Yonan’s household. About eight years ago he had the obedience devices removed from my head so no one could trigger any response in me that I had not reasoned out myself. He taught me to think. He let me grow my hair, an important symbol for us. He saw to it that I learned to read and write. Naturally I followed him to the mountains when your father threatened to imprison him for civil disobedience. Now I am one of his Captains. The other Kolaris here have come either with their ex-masters or they’ve been liberated by raiding parties. Does that fill things in for you?”
“Thanks,” said Luan humbly. Across the Hall he noticed Triani whispering fiercely to Eulio, who looked about to burst into tears.
“Why did you come here?” asked the Kolari. “Don’t you realize the personal danger you are in?”
“I came to try to save lives,” Luan said, coloring. The grandiose words embarrassed him even as he said them.
“You are either very brave or very foolish,” remarked Xenobar.
Luan opened his mouth, then closed it as he saw Marselind striding across the crowded hall to join them. “I have been looking for you,” Marselind said to Xenobar, ignoring Luan.
“I have been making the rounds.” The Kolari glanced about him casually, as if the conversation didn’t interest him much. “While you were gone, I heard the cewa singing.”
“When?”
“Two nights ago.”
“The flock has been gathering.”
Luan looked from one to the other, perplexed. “It is not uncommon to hear the cewa birds at this season,” he said.
Marselind turned towards him for the first time and his eyes softened. “Lu, you know my feelings for you. I’m asking you to trust me now as I trusted you that first night by the reservoir.”
Luan flushed. He was shocked that Marselind would acknowledge their relationship so casually in front of Xenobar, but he nodded, struck into silence by something indefinable in the man’s face.
Before he could say anything, a loud squawking broke out as several crates of animals awaiting slaughter for the evening meal, crashed to the floor. The flimsy doors sprang open, releasing the terrified creatures who dashed about looking for an escape amidst the legs of the amused soldiers. “Please don’t ask any questions,” Marselind went on, ignoring the confusion around him. “Just go with Xenobar. Now.” He glanced at the Kolari, turned away and was quickly lost in the crowd.
Without a word, Xenobar started towards a small door at the side of the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Luan followed. He was acting on instinct alone, his mind confused by the odd exchange he had witnessed, his feelings in a turmoil from Marselind’s unexpected words. His silent guide led him into a hall and through another, smaller door to a flight of stairs that wound down into darkness. Xenobar never hesitated, never glanced back to see that Luan was following.
At last they reached a small chamber hollowed out of the rock. One lone candle burned on the floor, barely illuminating the figures of Triani and Eulio huddled miserably in the shadows.
“Come,” said Xenobar. “This tunnel will lead us outside. Bring the candle if you need it.”
“I don’t know you from a faceless Lanserian gidget,” exclaimed Triani, hotly. “Who are you to give us orders? And where the hell is Cham?” But Xenobar was already nearly out of sight.
“Marselind trusts him. I trust Marselind,” said Luan simply. He held the candle out for Triani. “We won’t leave without your little friend.”
“‘My little friend’,” mimicked Triani. “You make it sound so trivial.”
“Oh, do shut up,” said Eulio wearily. “Let’s get on with it.”
They soon emerged into a cave which led out to the daylight. Marselind was waiting with three men, one of them a Kolari. They sat down at the mouth of the cave while Marselind explained the situation.
“I was right,” he said. “Norh has taken over. Yonan has been killed and Akan is missing. Most of my men are dead or in prison and many of the moderates have fled. Our best chance is with the river. Do you agree, Xenobar?”
“I do. There are a lot of my men at the river encampment, waiting for news. After the coup, communications were shut off or jammed.”
“The dancer is being kept in the old isolation cells. The only way in is through the air vent.”
“But that’s impossible!” exclaimed one of the newcomers. “Only a child could squeeze through there!”
“Let me try,” said Triani at once.
“It’s dangerous.”
&nb
sp; “What do you call what I’ve been doing? A day at the beach? Show me the vent.”
Marselind pointed up the sheer side of the rock. “Up there, on top of the first ledge,” he said.
“How far down is it once I’m through the vent?”
“About 4 times my height,” said Marselind. “You’ll need this braided rope. If you tie the knot this way, it will be secure.” His large soldier’s hands demonstrated for the Merculian.
“Is it dark in there? My eyes adjust very slowly to a change in light.”
“It’s dim, not really dark.”
Not really dark. There were no gradations in shadow to a Merculian, but Triani didn’t give himself time to think about it. He hung the rope over one shoulder and looked at Luan. “If I stand on your shoulders, I might be able to make it.” But he couldn’t quite reach. He jumped down and Marselind took Luan’s place. This time, Triani made it, chinning himself up the last few inches and crawling onto the ledge. The vent grew up from the rock like some sort of ugly metallic flower, open to the sun. He stuck his head inside and edged cautiously forwards. The rope was around his waist, one end tied to the base of the vent. Without warning the pipe bent downwards and he started to slide, headfirst, into the dimness below. He felt the scream rise in his throat and willed it back. In the end he couldn’t tell if what he heard in his head was real or imagined as with a sickening lurch downwards, he fell into space. The rope tightened painfully around his waist and jerked him into consciousness. He was swinging back and forth, back and forth. With an effort, he righted himself, undid the knot and jumped to the floor, only a few feet below.
He hadn’t had time to know what to expect. As he blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust, the scene came into view. Huddled on a shelf-like bed suspended from the wall by chains, was Cham. Around his neck was a collar with a short leather thong attached to the wall with a metal ring.
“Triani?” The husky voice nearly broke Triani’s heart. “Is it really you?”
“What have they done to you?” Triani gathered him in his arms. Cham wore a dress of some kind and no shoes. He clung around Triani’s neck, rocked with silent sobs. “Come on, baby. We’ve got to get you out of here.” With his ceremonial dagger, he cut the leather thong. “Can you climb up there?”
