Erik shook his head with a smile. “She hates that kind of thing.”
“I know. I keep telling them that her answer is ‘you decide,’ and they just come back with another question.” Harald smiled, too. “Oh well. They’ll get there in the end. In the meantime, don’t worry about us; we are ready to stop an army, or even two armies.”
“In that case, I’m going back in.”
“Good luck, son.”
They shook hands and Erik stood up.
“Gunnar, I’m going back in. I’ll see you there when you’re done eating.”
“I’m finished.” Gunnar came back to the console area. Brushing a stray crumb from the lapels of his tweed jacket, Gunnar settled into his chair again, attaching the equipment to his head and hands. Erik soon followed suit, but not before pausing beside Inny and gently touching her hair. While Thorstein went to file a report, Harald went to stand outside and breathe the cool air beneath the night sky. While he was looking at the stars, wondering in which direction were the planets containing the servers for all these new electronic worlds, Inny came out to join him.
“Thorstein tells me I just missed Erik.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Inny. He asked me to say he was thinking of you. Should I have brought you out of Saga?”
“I don’t know. It’s hectic there. But do so next time, please.”
“Certainly.”
“How is he?”
“Tired, upset, because Milan died. But still going strong all the same.”
“Milan died? How?”
“They had to battle through one of the portals.”
“That’s awful. How will we tell his friends back in Saga?”
“It is very sad. Such a young kid, too.”
Injeborg said nothing for a while and crickets that had fallen silent as if to listen to the humans resumed their calls.
“I’m worried, Harald. Of course Erik can’t be harmed physically, but what he’s seeing in there—won’t it make him a bleaker person?”
“Bleaker?”
“With all the violence and death, he might come away from this odyssey with sadness deep in his heart.”
“Sad, certainly, but he’ll still be the Erik we know now. And whatever happens, he’ll still love you.”
“Thank you, Harald. I just wish I was there with him.”
“As do I.”
It was still daytime in the ruined city, although the sky was turning purple and the sun was below the horizon of shattered buildings. Everyone seemed ready to move on: Athena with her satchel straps over one shoulder, Ghost with the Atanski across her back instead of her beloved airboard, the youthful and handsome-seeming Gunnar, and the ponderous Jodocus, who traveled with a light backpack over his cloak and who kept his bandaged arms free of any load.
“Welcome back,” Ghost greeted Cindella with a smile. “We’re not too far from that building. I went up again. We will be able to reach it before dark.”
She set off down an alleyway between red-bricked houses and everyone followed, Cindella bringing up the rear and keeping a regular watch back along the route they had come. It would be very easy to get lost in this world, with its unremitting landscape of ruined streets and squares. In time, though, there was a change, heralded by a droning sound and a repeated metallic clanging.
Ghost pointed to a house that still had most of its roof. “Let’s climb up there.”
For Ghost it was an easy matter to rise from the ground to the tiles above them. From there she lowered a string and Athena tied on a ladder of wire and light metal cross-steps that she unrolled on the ground from her satchel with an expression of pride on her face. With a certain amount of swaying and twisting and a few whispered curses, Gunnar climbed up the ladder, followed, rather more adroitly, by Athena, then Jodocus. Cindella skipped up effortlessly.
The roof was sloped like an inverted V and everyone was lying on the tiles and peering out over the top at the source of the noise: a huge factory. There were blue sparks from welding tools visible through the windows of the building. Forklift trucks driven by gray humanoids in overalls moved materials through openings covered by long rectangular streamers of plastic that parted for them and, swaying, fell back to cover the entrances again. And from the widest and tallest entrance a gleaming new tank emerged. It drove over a broad expanse of wide concrete and stopped near a gate in the metal fence that circuited around the factory. When the rumbling of the tank ceased, another gray humanoid climbed out of the vehicle and walked back into the factory.
“This is where they are getting their tanks from,” whispered Erik.
Jodocus was on Cindella’s immediate right. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “Or one of their factories at least. But I wonder, do you think there is a dominus in there, running the place?”
His question was just loud enough for everyone to hear and from the other end of the line Ghost called back, “Maybe, but look at the tracks. Everything is following the same lines over and over. It could all be automated.”
She was right. There were distinct lines of dark wear over the ground showing that the tanks and the forklift trucks had used exactly the same routes over and over.
A new growling noise from the far side of the factory caused them to duck down a little farther. It was a jeep, which drove into the courtyard and parked beside the tank. Leaving only the driver in the jeep, three gray soldiers jumped out, walked over to the tank, and entered through its hatches. Soon after, its engine sputtered to life, then both jeep and tank roared out of the factory gates in the direction of the setting sun.
“I’d like to know where they are going,” murmured Athena.
“It’s the first sign we’ve had of some life in this place,” observed Erik. “And they must have a decent road out that way. I think we should head in that direction, maybe parallel to the road and out of sight of it.” Erik turned Cindella’s head so that he could look along the line and he saw their nods of agreement.
“So we’ll skirt around the right-hand side of the factory and keep going until dark?” asked Ghost.
“Yeah,” said Erik. “Unless anyone thinks we should look inside, look for an EI—I mean, a dominus, in your language Jodocus.”
Athena shook her head. “Waste of time. This is just a place where they churn out tanks. Look.”
Below them, an identical movement of machines and humanoids was underway, and before long another tank emerged from the factory—engine beating heavily—before rolling over to wait by the gate in the same spot as its predecessor.
“Best not to go down there. We might set off some alarms or alert them,” Gunnar pointed out.
“Right then.” Athena was already carefully making her way back down the roof toward the ladder. “Let’s go.”
Skirting the factory at a safe distance, they picked their way through wrecked buildings, most of which were abandoned warehouses. They cut through the wire fences between the yards and walked over concrete ground that was covered in broken glass and that had weeds growing out through the cracks. This area had been derelict for at least a year, to judge by the weeds, and while Erik considered making this point, he didn’t think it worth interrupting their progress by calling out to the others.
Every twenty minutes or so, Erik heard the noisy engine of what was probably a jeep moving past them some distance to their left, heading back toward the factory; and then, soon after, the much deeper thundering roar of a tank’s engine coming back the other way. As the vehicles passed, driving off into the dark red sky ahead, it was possible to hear the squealing of the tank’s tracks as it rolled along, sometimes accompanied by a revving of its engine.
They pushed on hard, without conversation. Having crossed under a long metal bridge that had once carried a railway but was now in fragmented and twisted sections, they made their way over a canal. Perhaps it had once held water, but now the canal was a dry pit filled with debris. Then they trekked slightly uphill through a residential area where collapsed telegraph po
les had strewn their wires across the streets. As they marched, the color of the sky deepened until it was nearly black, but the darker it became, the more evident it was that somewhere up ahead, over the horizon, was a major source of light; a distant glow gave the clouds above an orange tint.
Although it was becoming harder to make their way past obstacles hidden by deep shadows, no one suggested stopping. Probably everyone felt the same as Erik: that they should at least clear the next rise in the hope of seeing the source of the artificial light. By the time Cindella had scrambled over the fallen pillars of what might have once been a large public building, Erik could only make out Gunnar; everyone else had been swallowed up in the night. But he could hear them as loose slates and bricks clattered under their feet. Then the sound of their movement stopped.
“Mudgrubbers!” Athena’s voice was full of passion, even though she spoke with a mutter. “That’s us trapped.”
A few more strides brought Cindella to the metal stanchion on which Athena was leaning. Along with the others, she was looking out toward a distant hill on which stood a portal much larger than the previous ones they had used. It was five or six times the height of a tank and about ten times as wide. It was easy to judge this, as the whole area around the portal was lit up by the white glare of arc lights and the portal was surrounded by tanks. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of tanks. They were queuing to go through the portal, shuffling slowly over huge open ground.
The blazing filaments were fastened to poles that radiated from the hill in eight directions for several miles. Each line of lights ran beside a road, one of which they had been following. It was not just tanks that were arriving at the portal; troop carriers full of soldier units, half-tracks with machine guns, jeeps pulling two-wheeled artillery units, and motorcycles were all slowly pressing toward the center.
As Erik took in the scene, it became clear that the flow was not entirely in one direction. There was some movement away from the hill and out past the edge of the ring of light. There were also major defenses, sandbagged placements with loopholes through which the gleam of metal weapons could just be seen. They seemed far more formidable than those the group had encountered in their recent battle, mainly because of the incredible amount of equipment and the uncountable numbers of soldiers.
Cindella gave a whistle. “Now getting through there is going to be a challenge.”
Chapter 24
BLIND POLYPHEMUS
“Magic plate, listen to my pleas. I’d like fish, rice, vegetables, and peas.” The golden plate filled up with food and Athena leaned over it, inhaling deeply. “That smells great.”
But she wasn’t eating. Noticing that Cindella was watching her, Athena blinked a few times and gave a wan smile.
“It’s just that using the plate reminds me of Milan. I feel like he is here, arguing with me about what meal we should eat next.”
“I know,” said Erik. Several times since Milan’s death, Erik had tried to imagine what it would be like if one of his friends had been killed instead. B.E., say. How would he feel? Distraught, anguished, guilty, and also angry. Angry enough to want revenge? In a way, but to want to defeat the people who were building armies like the one in front of them was not the same as wanting to take their lives. All sentient life was precious and even if they were murderers, the best way to deal with them was not to become a murderer yourself.
The group had retreated a good mile from the army guarding the portal to a sturdy building whose basement was intact. Erik thought that it might once have been a garage of some sort, as the main entrance was a wide metal shutter, now rusted and twisted open, that led to a room large enough to hold several vehicles. Down a set of stairs, with the door closed behind them, they felt it was safe enough to light two lanterns.
“Do you want some food?” Ghost asked Jodocus.
“No, thank you.”
Erik caught Ghost’s eye.
“Out of curiosity, Jodocus, what do you eat?” Had he seen Jodocus eating? Erik couldn’t remember.
The elementalist pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward his backpack. “Strips of dried meat, compressed dried fruit—that kind of thing.”
“Like our nutribars?” suggested Athena.
“Just so.”
“This is much better.” Despite her unhappiness, Athena was making inroads on the contents of the plate.
“So are we stuck?” asked Gunnar, breaking in with the question that must have been on everyone’s mind.
Erik could sense that his friends from Saga were disheartened. The walk back in search of shelter had been accompanied by downcast eyes and dour expressions. It was understandable; to have come this far, to have lost Milan, only to encounter another even larger army and see no end to their journey, was very discouraging. But Erik was turning over an idea that gave him reason to be hopeful.
“We can’t defeat that army, can we?” Erik looked to Jodocus for confirmation.
“No, all my elementals together could not shift that force.”
“Then,” said Erik as brightly as he could, “we’ll have to sneak through it.”
Athena snorted with skepticism.
“You have an idea?” asked Ghost.
“I do, but it’s risky for everyone but Gunnar and me.”
Athena stopped eating and looked up with interest. “Let’s hear it then.”
“Did you see the way that the new tanks were rolling through the gate, nonstop?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, what if we were inside one? We could go back to the factory, hide inside a new tank, and when those soldier units come to drive it, kill them and drive the tank up to the portal ourselves.”
“Great idea, Erik!” Ghost stood up, clearly filled with renewed enthusiasm. “That’s brilliant. Impersonating one of their own tanks and crossing through the portal right under their very eyes.”
“Not bad,” agreed Jodocus, “except they are bound to have some kind of signaling system. We’ll either give the wrong responses or no response and they’ll get suspicious.”
“That’s why I think it’s a job for Gunnar and me.”
“But what are we supposed to do while you are driving a tank through the portal?” asked Ghost.
“Wait somewhere, here maybe. Actually, perhaps I should do it alone and Gunnar should remain with you to relay information from me.”
Frowning, Ghost shook her head.
“I’ve a better idea.” Athena had lost interest in eating and put the plate down. “Let’s all go and when we reach the army, we’ll scramble their communications.”
Jodocus looked up in surprise. “Can we do that?”
“Yeah. They use radio signals of a pretty low frequency. I was picking them up on my receiver outside. I might even be able to get a signal in here. But anyway, all we need to do is send strong enough pulses of energy through a suitable antenna and we can disrupt them pretty badly.”
“We’ve got the necessary equipment, right?” Ghost was now walking back and forth across the room, and Erik could see from her earnest expression that she wanted desperately for Athena’s proposal to make sense. It would be very difficult for her to end up stuck in a cellar, waiting on news from Erik, instead of tackling the situation herself.
Athena nodded. “Right. I could use your Atanski for the power, which would drown out their signals no problem. For the antenna, I’ve seen a lot of copper piping in these ruins that would work. We could maybe set up two, about a hundred meters apart, both connected to the Atanski, like horns. Mind you, to be efficient, we’d want to make sure the signal wavelength was twice the dipole.” Athena’s voice dropped to a mutter as she gathered her thoughts. “And,” she continued, “we will need someone to stay behind and switch it on at the right time.”
This statement was greeted with a long silence.
“It is complicated?” asked Jodocus.
“Complicated?”
“Switching on the interference—is it complicated?”
“No, you just need to throw a switch.”
“Then while the rest of us occupy a tank, an elemental of mine can throw the switch.”
“Well, there we are.” Ghost looked across to Cindella as if sensing Erik’s doubts. “We steal a tank, drive up to the base with all the other tanks, blind them with our interference broadcast and go on through.”
“Oh, Ghost.” Erik had Cindella shake her head and look concerned. “I hate it when you put yourselves at risk. Even if the radio interference works on our side, we’ve no idea what lies beyond the portal.”
“No,” Jodocus interjected, “but running away once we are through will be a lot easier than fighting our way up to the portal on this side. I for one would take the chance.” The elementalist looked impassive, but his voice was eager.
“Me, too.” Athena raised her hand.
“It’s a good idea, Erik.” Gunnar raised his hand as well. “Better than you going through alone.”
Looking around the room, Erik could see an expression of determination on all their faces. Every hand was in the air.
“Oh well.”
The following morning, feeling refreshed after a night’s sleep in the library, Erik clipped up and joined the others in scavenging for copper pipes. But it was not until midday that Athena was satisfied with her transmitter. The main holdup had been the regular and increasing number of overflights by planes. No one had any difficulty taking cover, given that that the droning noise of an incoming plane’s engine warned of its arrival well before it came into view. But waiting in a ruined house for the plane to fly safely into the distance took time.
At last, however, the job was done. The device looked simple enough. It consisted of two long L-shaped copper antennae, aligned with each other and joined at the point where they were met by electrical leads that trailed from the open stock of the Atanski. Standing patiently at the gun was a timber elemental that Jodocus had animated from dusty planks and broken doorframes that they had piled up for him. The creature was tall and had long thin fingers of splintered wood, one of which was poised over the trigger of the Atanski. After some discussion they had agreed that Jodocus should command the elemental to pull the trigger exactly at sunset. That gave them a reasonable amount of time to journey back to the factory and then drive a tank up the road to the army.
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