Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law

by Southwell, T C

  When Law pondered this, he found answers to many questions buried deep in his mind. Knowledge about his powers seeped into his ken like long lost memories. In the box's safety and darkness, he learnt that the powers were a part of him, just like his fingers and toes, and as easily controlled. He was made from the same elements, and a part of the world. It had spawned him, yet he was able to think and control all of its elements, and there had to be a reason for it.

  Digging deeper, he found the answer. He was Life. His soul was a fragment of the world's mighty spirit, one with it, yet separate, a conduit, a messenger through which the world learnt about itself. Yet his purpose was not to change or judge, but simply to see... and he was blind. The realisation almost made Law open his eyes. His eyelids parted a slit, then clenched shut as the golden light made a bid for freedom. Trapping it, he struggled with his problem. His heart pounded and sweat broke out on his forehead. His purpose was in conflict with his inability to release the light. Wrestling with this dilemma, Law stopped eating.

  After the food had mouldered untouched outside the box for a week, Letta was frantic. She and Vosh longed to drag the child out of his hiding place, but at first they were too scared to use force. They begged, threatened and bribed, to no avail. Convinced that the boy was sick and dying, Letta persuaded Vosh to brave the flames and bring the boy into the light once more. Bracing himself, Vosh groped within the box, found an arm and pulled Law out of his month-long retreat. He hardly recognised the creature that emerged.

  Law had become a golden youth of exceptional beauty. Slightly taller than Letta and slenderly built, he possessed a well-defined physique of muscled shoulders tapering to narrow hips, his limbs filled out with lean muscle. A strong chin and nose saved his fine, patrician features from femininity, level brows had sprouted and a short stubble of silky black hair covered his scalp. He turned to face his would-be parents, and Vosh stared at him, a dawning realisation filling him with loathing and horror.

  "He's Mujar!"

  "Oh, god." Letta raised a hand to her mouth. "But he's blind! Maybe he's a Mujar crossbreed."

  "No. He's as pure as driven snow. Law, open your eyes."

  The youth frowned. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "I can't."

  "Are you truly blind?"

  Law pondered that, failing to arrive at an answer. "I don't know."

  Vosh grunted. "He's Mujar all right. Aren't you boy?"

  "Yes."

  Letta stroked his cheek, marvelling at the serenity of his flawless features. "He's so beautiful."

  Law took her hand and caressed her callused palm, smiling. She shivered, entranced by the captivating seduction of his gentleness and grace.

  Vosh pulled her away. "Don't let him touch you like that. Don't you know that Mujar use their attraction to enslave Truemen?"

  "He's too young to be doing it deliberately. He can't help what he is; he's only three months old."

  Vosh took a step towards Law. "He's a damned Mujar, and I want him out of here! If I knew where there was a Pit, I'd take him and throw him in it myself."

  "No!" Letta stepped between them as Law cringed. "Damn you, Vosh! You brought him to me as my child, and now you want you throw him in a Pit? You'll do it over my dead body!"

  "We can't keep him here!"

  "Why not? Mujar have lived with Truemen clans for decades. They do no harm. They work for a living, and ask nothing in return but room and board, which we've been giving freely up until now."

  "He's Mujar!"

  She met his eyes with a steely gaze. "So what?"

  "He's got more power at his fingertips than any other being on this world. I'd give my right arm for a tenth of his power, but he won't use it. He wouldn't lift a finger for us!"

  Letta glanced at the youth. "You don't know that. Have you asked? I doubt any Mujar has been raised by Truemen before, like he has."

  Vosh glared at Law, who stood in an attitude of confused fear, one shoulder hunched, his head turned towards the wall. His hands were clasped close to his chest, as if to protect himself from an unseen blow. Despite himself, Vosh could not imagine harming this gentle young creature, Mujar or not. He sighed and stepped closer to put out a reassuring hand.

  "Be careful," Letta warned. "He knows you're angry, and he looks frightened. Talk to him, he's not an animal."

  Vosh withdrew his hand. "Law. It's okay boy, I'm not going to harm you. It was just a shock, that's all."

  Law turned his head. "No harm?"

  "No harm," Vosh admitted with a sigh. "Letta's right, you're our child, Mujar or not."

  Law relaxed, faced them and held out a hand. Vosh took it a little warily, unsure of the youth's intentions. Law smiled, revealing the perfect white teeth with which he had munched his way through so much food. He took Vosh's hand and placed it on his chest, palm against his heart, then held out his other hand, palm up.

  "No harm," he said again.

  "We've just been through that," Vosh muttered.

  Letta nudged him. "I think he's saying that he won't harm us, silly."

  "Oh, good." Vosh cleared his throat in embarrassment and pulled his hand away, wiping it on his tunic. "Listen, Law, I - we were wondering if you would do something for us."

  Law cocked his head. "Wish."

  Vosh turned to Letta. "What's he mean?"

  She shrugged, shaking her head. "Ask him."

  The Trueman licked his lips, irked by his inability to understand the strange Mujar speech. He wondered where Law had learnt it, since he had never known another of his own kind.

  "What do you mean, 'wish', Law?"

  "You want something?"

  Vosh nodded. "Yes."

  "Wish."

  Letta nudged Vosh again. "I think he means that we're asking for a wish."

  "Well I suppose we are. But why does he keep saying it?"

  "Ask him."

  Vosh turned back to the youth. "Law, why do you keep saying 'wish'?"

  The Mujar frowned, clearly puzzled. "You say you want something from me, but you don't tell me what."

  "Oh, I see." Vosh looked embarrassed, and Letta grinned.

  "Twit."

  "You didn't know what he meant either, dear," he pointed out.

  "Listen, before you start asking him for things, he should eat. He hasn't had anything for days."

  "He didn't want it," Vosh protested, but she thrust him aside and bustled across the room to find something for Law to eat. Vosh guided the youth to a chair and pushed him into it as Letta placed a bowl of stew before him. The Mujar savoured it, and Vosh sat opposite and studied him.

  "Law, we need you to help us take over the hive. We're slaves here, the semi-ants run the show. All you have to do is threaten the queen, and they'll have to obey us. You don't have to hurt anything, I promise."

  Law looked thoughtful. Vosh knew that it was a weighty decision to be thrust upon one so young, and hoped Law saw no harm in it. Surely he owed a debt for the food and shelter he had received, but was it enough?

  Law inclined his head. "Granted."

  The Trueman gaped at the young Mujar, hardly able to believe it. "You agree, Law?"

  "Wish, yes."

  Vosh turned to hug the plump woman, delighted. "You're right, dear, he's different! He's our own tame Mujar!"

  Law frowned, and Vosh realised that his words were perhaps a bit presumptuous and ill advised. He did not know enough about Mujar to predict how Law would react, and they were known to be unpredictable in the extreme. He slumped with relief when Law shrugged and continued to eat.

  Vosh fidgeted while he waited for Law to finish his meal, burning with excitement. The moment the Mujar put down his spoon, Vosh jumped up. "Come on, let's go and see the queen."

  Law rose, and Letta’s eyes glowed with pride as he followed Vosh, who took the youth's arm to guide him along the tunnels towards the queen's vast chamber far below.

  "Just remember," Vosh told him, "say nothing. I'll do the talking, you jus
t agree, right? If she asks you if you'll do as I say, you tell her you will, okay?"

  Law nodded, appearing a little confused.

  They passed many workers hurrying along the tunnels, and these became more numerous as they neared the queen's chamber. Wingless guards challenged them, then let them pass after a conversation of clicks. Vosh had learnt some of the semi-ants' language over the months, but the guards' discourse was too complex. The tunnels grew larger, the walls covered with shiny spit hardened to a smooth veneer. Vosh had to grope along the wall in the darkness, and soon Law was guiding him.

  "Beats me how you find your way around," Vosh commented. "Sometimes I think you see better than I do."

  Two more wingless guards blocked the tunnel, and Vosh demanded to see the queen with barely intelligible clicks. After a short argument, they were allowed to enter a vast, well-lighted chamber. A shaft of sunlight shone from an air vent that thrust up through the citadel in a towering spire. Workers bustled around the chamber, carrying eggs, food or waste, or tending the massive form of the immobile queen.

  Law sniffed air redolent with spicy smells and endorphins the queen released to command her workers. His limited senses perceived a seething mass of shimmering blue Shissar shot with flickers of Crayash and striped with silver Dolana. The individual animals defied separation, for the speed at which they moved outstripped his senses. Only the queen took on any real definition, her vast bulk mostly shimmering blue, her foreparts rich with Dolana. Vosh dragged the Mujar closer to her and waited until she finished communing with a worker before stepping forward.

  "My Queen." He used his tongue to form clumsy clicks, where the semi-ants used their mandibles. "I have something to tell you."

  "Speak," the queen commanded.

  Vosh gestured to Law. "This boy is Mujar. He has agreed to free the Truemen in this hive. Unless you free us, he will destroy the citadel."

  Law, who was trying to separate workers into understandable images, turned in surprise at this outrageous lie.

  The queen said, "I know what he is. Mujar won't harm us."

  "He will, to free us. He has granted that Wish."

  She addressed Law. "Is this true, Mujar?"

  Vosh tugged his arm and whispered, "Say yes."

  "I granted a Wish," Law allowed, frowning. He twisted his wrist from Vosh's sweaty grasp, disliking the situation.

  "To free them?" she enquired.

  "Yes."

  Vosh fidgeted while the queen pondered, and Law sensed his impatience. Finally she clicked, "If a Mujar commands this, then they may go."

  "No, no," Vosh protested. "We don't want to go, we like it here. We want to be free to do as we wish, not to be slaves."

  "To live off us, without doing anything in return?" she asked.

  "Yes. We've earned it."

  Again the queen pondered, then clicked, "The Mujar commands this also?"

  Vosh nudged Law. "Say yes."

  "Yes."

  "Very well," she acceded, lowering her long feelers as if in salute.

  The queen's easy acceptance seemed to embolden Vosh. "We also want women for all the men, for their own use."

  "As the Mujar wishes," she agreed.

  Vosh hopped with excitement. "And I want all the half Trueman grubs destroyed."

  Law wondered if the man thought he could command the queen to do anything; he seemed intent on taking full advantage of his presence while he could.

  "No." The queen shifted her foreparts in agitation. "The Mujar will not command this."

  "Yes he will." Vosh turned to Law. "Tell her you will."

  Law frowned. "Kill her young?"

  "You don't have to do it, just tell her to. They're abominations!"

  "No. No killing," Law stated.

  "Dammit, just this one more thing, that's all I ask!"

  "No."

  "Law," Vosh said, "you agreed to do this! You can't go back on your word."

  "You have your freedom."

  The Trueman grabbed Law's arm, startling him. "They're half Trueman! They can't be allowed to grow up. They'll be monsters and probably kill us!"

  The Mujar shrank from Vosh's hard grip, confused by the Trueman's sudden anger. He tried to free his arm from Vosh's hands, but the man hung on, his fingers digging into Law's flesh. The pain sent a flash of fire through him, but he quelled it, not wishing to hurt the man who had fed him for so long. He understood the silent language of smells that wafted around the queen's chamber, and knew that she summoned warriors to aid him.

  "Do not harm the Mujar," she warned, but Vosh ignored her.

  He pulled the struggling youth closer and rasped in his ear, "Tell her to get rid of those grubs. Then we can go home."

  "No!" Law struggled harder.

  The scent of danger increased as the queen's winged warriors filed into the chamber, their massive mandibles open. The sleek creatures were the size of horses, with wings of gleaming Dolana folded on their backs.

  Law wriggled out of the man's grasp, but Vosh caught his wrist and jerked him back. "Dammit boy, it's a small favour for what we've done for you. Just command her, then we can go home and eat. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You like to eat, but when it comes time to earn it, you're as lazy as all the rest. All you have to do is open your damned mouth and speak!"

  "No." Law shook his head, smearing the images from his senses into a mash of colour. Disorientated, he staggered. The queen, evidently sensing his distress, ordered her warriors forward. Vosh gripped the Mujar harder and addressed her.

  "What's this? A double cross? I warn you, he'll burn you all!"

  "No!" Law tried to make sense of the hazy images that trickled into his brain. "Don't harm the Trueman."

  The queen clicked, "He harms you."

  Law tried to push Vosh away. "Let me go!"

  "No way. They'll kill me for sure."

  "They won't harm you."

  "I'm not stupid, boy! If I let you go now, I'm dead!"

  Law knew that the queen was only concerned for his safety, but he could not hide the pain of Vosh's grip. With a quick twist that took Vosh by surprise and wrenched his own arm, Law freed himself. The Trueman leapt after him. Law stumbled and fell as the speed of his movements outstripped his senses and left him floundering in a world of smeared images. He sensed two warriors charge forward to stand over him, their chitin-plated jaws open. Vosh’s hazy form retreated, raising his hands.

  "So this is it, huh?" he demanded. "You're going to kill me."

  "You must not harm a Mujar," the queen said. "You are free to go, and you will get your women."

  Vosh gaped at her. "That still stands?"

  "The Mujar commanded it."

  Vosh turned to Law. "Hey, kid, I'm sorry if I was rough on you..."

  "Go," the queen ordered. "You are forbidden to return here."

  The warriors jostled forward in a wall of armour and open jaws. Movement around Law had slowed to the point where he was able to discern shapes more clearly, allowing him to perceive Vosh backing away.

  He called, "See you at home, kid; Letta will make you a nice stew. You know the way." The warriors clicked, and Vosh retreated, holding up his hands. "Okay, okay. I wasn't going to hurt the kid, anyway."

  Law tried to stand up and bumped into a warrior, which backed away. Vosh left the cavern, presumably to grope his way home. The swirling images caused by his collision with the warrior had not yet settled in Law's mind, and the room moved around him, the lines of Dolana that mapped it mixed with the semi-ants' shimmering Shissar. He staggered into another warrior and gripped it as it tried to move away. The semi-ant froze, providing a solid object to which he clung. With its help, he was able to stand still long enough for the images to settle.

  He faced the queen. "Don't harm him."

  "As you command," she clicked.

  "He's afraid. He did not intend to hurt me." Law released the warrior, no longer needing its support. A sweet scent from the queen commanded the warriors to leave, and
their withdrawal allowed the workers to do their jobs unhampered. Law approached the queen and ran his hands over her armoured foreparts, mapping her domed head with its compound eyes. She released a scent that told of her happiness at his touch, but the unreadable line of golden writing flashed across his mind repeatedly.

  "You are wrong," he stated. "Never have I seen one such as you."

  "The world has changed. All beasts are different."

  Law concentrated on her. "You have a creature of this world in your ancestry, thence stems your gentleness and obedience."

  "The only beasts here that would harm you are the ones with which you live."

  His hands explored her smooth bulk. "And you have bred with them."

  "We wished their cleverness for our offspring," she clicked.

  "That is forbidden."

  The semi-ant queen shifted, her claws scraping the floor as she tried to turn towards him. Law stood beside her and ran his hands over her egg-laden abdomen.

  "We will not conceive any more."

  "No." Law moved away to stand before her again. "You shall not."

  "Will you stay with us?"

  The Mujar pondered this. His memories of the outside world were hazy now, for the hive had been his home for too long. The comforts the Truemen gave were good, and something deep within him prompted him to stay with them. Their cosy cavern offered security and food, and he had no desire for anything else.

  "Yes," he replied, "I shall return to my chamber."

  "You honour us. We will honour those with whom you choose to stay."

  Law walked through the workers towards the tunnel that led back into the hive. The warrior guards stood aside, and he followed the lines of Dolana that shone silver in the darkness of his inner eye.

  Arriving at the entrance to Vosh and Letta's chamber, he paused. Raised voices and the clatter of pots came from within. Letta sounded angry, and Vosh whined in protest. Law stepped into the doorway, where he could make out the Truemen's hazy figures. His senses perceived them as blue-gold forms with a silver framework, their heads almost featureless. Parts that had more Crayash in them appeared more gold, cooler extremities more blue. Overall, they looked horrible, but, having never had any other form of perception, he had become accustomed to the strange appearance most creatures had. It did, however, make it difficult to make out expressions, although smiles were discernable, due to the increase of Dolana and Crayash when the teeth were exposed. Letta stood with her back to him and Vosh cowered in a far corner. The woman brandished a large tin pot at him.