by Lory Kaufman
“GUILIETTA!” Hansum cried back, waving his hands desperately at the horse, trying to block him.
Feltrino now dove to the ground for Pedang. As soon as he touched it, he could sense the presence of another will take control of the blade. Even with a firm grasp on the hilt, he felt it being pulled away from him.
Pedang began trying to help Hansum stop the horse from running off, moving left and then right, all the while dragging Feltrino behind.
The horse reared again and Hansum dove for the saddle, wanting to get hold on the ropes binding Guilietta and somehow loosen them. For some brief seconds he got a grasp of the rough cord and his hands touched Guilietta’s. As Hansum was buffeted and twisted, he came face to face with Guilietta, each of them looking into the other’s terrified eyes. One of the animal’s twists pushed Hansum’s cheek against Guilietta’s face. In that instant he felt how her lips were swollen and rough from Feltrino’s brutality. Guilietta screamed in pain as the horse kicked out violently. Hansum was thrown off, landing hard on the ground.
Covered in Guilietta’s and the horse’s blood, Hansum saw the horse was now perilously close to the twenty-foot cliff over the water. He winced as Guilietta slipped off its back, causing her to hang over the cliff. Tied to the saddle, her weight started dragging the tired animal with her. The horse’s back hoof slipped off the cliff edge and its torso came crashing down. It pawed the ground furiously, trying to save itself. As the horse screamed and struggled to keep its footing, Hansum had no choice but to grab its mane and dig his heel into the ground. He started pulling landward, hoping every bit of force in that direction would help. Miraculously, the horse was able to inch itself back so all four legs were on solid ground and it began scrambling to its feet.
“THE HORSE, PEDANG!” Hansum screamed. “HELP WITH THE HORSE!”
Feltrino’s teeth were clenched as he continued struggling with what must be an enchanted sword. He felt the sword pull away from him so hard that even his toughened hands couldn’t hold on. He watched in horror as the thing flew through the air by itself.
“DEVILS FROM HELL!” he screamed. “ALL OF YOU ARE DEVILS FROM HELL!”
“CUT THE ROPE, PEDANG, CUT THE ROPE!” Hansum cried, feverishly grasping the horse’s mane and trying to hold it down. Guilietta, now gone limp, was reduced to a gouged and bleeding rag doll, flopping off the side of the animal’s back. Pedang flew to the horse, whose huge round eyes expanded even more as the strange, sharp object approached it. Ignoring Hansum’s weight, it somehow found the strength to rear straight up on its back legs one more time, roaring in fear and pawing the air as if it wanted to fly. Pedang and Hansum quickly backed off, terrified and powerless to get to the now unconscious Guilietta.
“DEVILS!” Hansum turned just in time to see Feltrino coming at him with a huge rock over his head. “DIE DEVILS!” the Gonzaga screamed as his body smashed into Hansum’s shoulder and the rock crashed into his skull. The buzzing and sparks off Sideways’s energy shield glowed around Hansum’s head, absorbing that blow, but Feltrino’s momentum pushed Hansum into the horse just as it reared at full extension. The horse fell sideways and, for a split second, the heavy animal’s only contact to the cliff was a single back hoof. Hansum, squashed between the horse and Feltrino, looked down to see the roiling water.
“Grab hold of me,” he heard an infant’s voice say, and there was Pedang, hovering next to his hand. Hansum grabbed the hilt but felt a strong hand smash into his, forcing it off the handle.
Hansum was now falling, tumbling with the bulk of the beast beside him. Looking up, the last thing he saw was Feltrino hanging in the air and holding onto the A.I. sword.
As the fast-running water swallowed Hansum, Guilietta and the horse, and as all three submerged into the cold and dark, Hansum twisted his body around, trying to get hold of some part of the animal, his only concern being to get to Guilietta before she drowned.
Chapter 8
Pedang, allowing his eyes to show on the flat of his blade, looked down as Hansum and the others disappeared into the black waters of the fast-moving river. While imbued with the knowledge and experiences of millions of other A.I.s, and full of the recorded knowledge of human kind, his infant mind felt shock at the loss of the people he was charged to protect. He watched as the horse, Hansum, Guilietta and Sideways reemerge from the water a good distance down the river. Both the horse and Hansum were thrashing wildly, but Guilietta was limp and being carried down the river as so much flotsam. Pedang’s first impulse was to speed to them, like an arrow, to render assistance. But then he looked down and saw the bruised and bloodied hand of Feltrino still holding onto his sword hilt. Feltrino’s feet were dangling over the water and his shocked face was looking up into Pedang’s eyes.
The mission had been to detain Feltrino so the Podesta could arrest and hold him until Hansum and the other teens somehow got back to the 24th-century. As well, the older Hansum would stay in place of the younger one for the next few hours, making sure there was no promise to help the Podesta develop cannons and black powder. This way, because the younger Hansum now had the temporal protection necklace, when the time continuum changed, the younger Hansum would go forward into history, while the older Hansum, without the necklace, would disappear into nothingness, a noble and excellent sacrifice. But it was not being seen as a suicide. The younger Hansum would take his place. That’s why the Council had accepted the plan and why the sentient beings of Earth and beyond, both human and A.I., had become so intrigued with the continued story of Hansum and Guilietta. Guilietta would be saved, there would still be a Hansum, and history would resume as it had before all this happened.
Now the fine plan was in a shambles and Pedang had to make lightning choices: let Feltrino go and render assistance, or stay with Feltrino until the Podesta came.
His conundrum answered itself. Pedang saw Feltrino’s eyes widen and felt his grip loosen. Feltrino was going to escape into the water, as he had done in the first version of this reality. Instantly, Pedang shot out a grasping force field, encircling Feltrino’s hand and wrist. He then shot a small jolt of electricity into the man’s limb, forcing it to re-grasp the hilt. Feltrino now hung, trapped and helpless, horror in his eyes.
Pedang’s acute A.I. hearing told him to look over toward the bushes. He could hear the Podesta was almost there. Less than a minute, he calculated. He levitated back over the ground and released Feltrino from four feet up, letting him fall into a heap. Feltrino could now also hear the rumble of horses and shot to his feet. He looked at the levitat-ing Pedang, meeting his eyes again, then over at his own horse. Feltrino leaned towards the animal but, in a flash, Pedang was between the Gonzaga and his mount.
“Sword of Satan!” Feltrino gasped, and he whirled around and headed for the water again. But Pedang zoomed around him and the Gonzaga ran right into the edge of the blade. The sharp steel cut through his shirt and stopped. A stain of blood rose through the fabric.
“Yield!” Pedang said, his child’s voice sounding angry. “YIELD!”
“I yield, evil spirit!” Feltrino said, getting to one knee.
“Lie down,” Pedang added.
“What?”
“I said lie down! On your back! NOW!”
Feltrino obeyed just as the Podesta, Captain Caesar and the other soldiers came thundering into the open. Pedang let himself fall onto Feltrino’s chest, inert, so nobody else would see him hovering. As the horses surrounded Feltrino, Pedang’s eyes scowled at Feltrino and then he let his image fade. Four soldiers leapt off their horses and yanked Feltrino to his feet, letting Pedang fall to the ground.
Captain Caesar, on his horse, was already looking down river with his own looker.
“The savant and one of the horses . . . and the girl,” he began. Then he shouted at two of his men. “Down the river. Go!” and the two men took off back through the forest.
Mastino jumped off his horse, running to look downriver. He turned, facing Feltrino.
“You kill
ed my savant,” he said, stomping back to him and seething with rage.
Feltrino, still paralyzed with fear, cried, “No, he was alive. He jumped in after the girl, when this thing . . .” he said, looking down at the sword.
“This thing what?” Mastino demanded angrily, coming close to the Gonzaga.
“Don’t touch it. The sword is enchanted!” Feltrino cried to Mastino. “It’s a devil. It flies and talks and fights.”
Captain Caesar picked up Pedang. “It’s da Silva’s sword,” he said, handing it to Mastino.
“I swear,” Feltrino pleaded. “It fights and cannot be beaten.”
Mastino ran his finger along the blade. “Quite . . . ordinary,” Mastino replied, eyes burning.
“Listen to me,” Feltrino cried. “I tell you it’s of the devil!”
“Excellency, here’s what we came for,” a soldier said, handing Mastino the looker Feltrino had stolen. It was now battered and broken from being trampled in the fight.
“Well, our mission is accomplished,” Mastino said, looking sternly into Feltrino’s eyes. “But my savant is lost.” He gestured to the soldiers, who renewed their hold of Feltrino’s arms.
“I . . . I guess it’s back to my cell,” Feltrino said scowling. He looked down, defeated.
“Not for you,” Mastino answered coolly. Feltrino looked up, confused. And then his eyes went wide as Mastino plunged Pedang under his ribcage and into his heart. Sounds came from two quarters. A low grunt emerged from Feltrino’s lips and a terrified shriek emanat-ed from Pedang. He was horrified at being used for murder. As Mastino went to pull the sword out, Pedang propelled himself into the air, making it appear that Mastino was throwing him into the river. As a shocked Pedang descended toward the water he saw, not only a surprised Podesta, but also Feltrino, slumping to the ground dead.
Chapter 9
“Guilietta! Guilietta!” Hansum gasped, as he held on to the horse’s mane with one hand and incessantly beat the fast-moving water with the other. He was desperately trying to pull himself to his unconscious wife who was floating on the other side of the madly-thrashing horse. The poor animal was still trying to swim, but the river was moving so fast that nothing, animal or human, could fight its current. They bobbed up and down, like leaves, as the deep water rose and fell over the riverbed. And when they came to a bend in the waterway, the oddly configured assembly of horse and people spun in circles.
Hansum finally got two hands on the horse’s mane as they approached another curve. So far the river had been clear of deadly obstructions, but Hansum saw many ugly, jagged rocks, broken tree trunks and branches protruding from the water ahead. As they began to spin, the centrifugal force threw Hansum toward the horse and he was able to grab the saddle. He pulled himself onto it and finally grabbed Guilietta’s arms. His extra weight, however, caused the weakening animal to sink. As the horrified animal’s back and neck submerged, it stretched its head straight up to keep its mouth and nose in the air. Hansum pulled Guilietta over the horse and let himself slide off. The animal came up some, but it was obvious the poor thing was weakening. Hansum had to act quickly, before the horse died and dragged Guilietta down.
“Sideways,” Hansum shouted. “Site transport. Quickly.”
“I can’t,” the AI cloak said, it’s face on Hansum’s chest bobbing in and out of the water. “The horse is too big. We must get the girl’s hands unbound first.”
Hansum pulled himself onto the horse again, in an effort to steady himself and find some purchase against the ropes, but they were so wet and tightened from all the stretching, he had no luck.
“Pedang!” Hansum said, as if cursing. “Where’s that Pedang? I need some help . . .”
He saw someone running along the riverbank towards them. It was him, his younger self, running toward the water. He must have escaped from Lincoln, who was nowhere in sight. And then Hansum heard a deep rumbling. He looked up. There was a heavy cloud of mist ahead. This could only mean one thing. Rapids. The river was going to run downhill through rocks and broken trees.
“HELP! QUICKLY! HANSUM!” he called to his other self. “HURRY!” He looked down briefly and saw Guilietta’s eyes flutter. Perhaps it was the sound of his voice, but Guilietta was trying to regain consciousness. “Hold on, Guil,” he said into her ear. “Hold on, sweetheart.” She opened her eyes for a moment, recognition showing. She mouthed her name for him, ‘ Romero’. Hansum bowed his head and kissed her hands and she smiled faintly, and then he felt the horse sink. He threw his weight off the horse but kept hold of the saddle. “HURRY!” he screamed again. He watched his younger self dive from the shore and into the water. “Help’s coming, Guilietta. Help’s coming,” Hansum said encouragingly. “We’re going to get you out . . .”
That’s when the partly submerged tree appeared, looming over them like a demon from the depths. The horse’s head took the brunt of it with a disgusting and brutal crack. It was killed instantly. The animal turned on to its side, whirling Guilietta off her perch and tossing her straight into a tangle of sharp, broken branches that stuck out like spears. Then, as the horse’s carcass spun away from the tree, it yanked her off the sharp, wooden spikes.
Hansum was thrown off too, but was able to catch hold of the horse’s tail. As the dead horse spun around in an eddy, Hansum caught hold of the saddle again. With the horse now on its side, Hansum saw another opportunity. He could see the girth strap for the saddle exposed. If he could unbuckle the cinches before the animal sank and before they hit the main part of the rapids, he could free Guilietta and only have the saddle to contend with. It was still an impossible situation, but less impossible than the present one.
That’s when the younger Hansum reached them.
“YOU BLOODY . . .”
“KEEP HER ABOVE WATER,” the older Hansum screamed above the din of the approaching rapids. “I’VE GOT TO GET THE SADDLE LOOSE.”
The younger Hansum grabbed the saddle where Guilietta was tied and flipped her onto her back. Her arms and hands were now stretched unnaturally over her head. Ducking below the water, he went under Guilietta, coming up with his chest under her back and his head next to her unconscious face. He was treading furiously to keep them both afloat, the rushing water spilling across his face and mouth. It was obvious he would go under before he let her do so.
The older Hansum took a deep breath and submerged, searching for the saddle’s cinch buckles. He grabbed hold of the girth strap and ran his hands along its length, but didn’t find any. He searched again and again, grasping under one side of the saddle and then the other, trying to find them. Finally, out of breath, he kicked and burst through the surface of the water to get more air. In that brief second he saw his younger counterpart, desperation and justifiable anger in his eyes. And he saw Guilietta, still out cold on her back, her mouth and eyes slightly open.
The roar of the rapids was now deafening and they were moving even faster. He plunged back into the water, running his hands along the saddle girth, still finding no clips, and then he froze as the truth of the matter seized him. He would find no brass cinches on this saddle girth because it wasn’t made of leather. It was a cheap rope girth, tied with a knot. It too was wet and as impossible to untie as Guilietta’s wrists. A rush of true panic buzzed up Hansum’s spine and burst in his brain. He kicked hard again, pushing himself upwards. His lungs were bursting with pain as he broke the surface, and when he did he screamed. He screamed so loud and hard it echoed over the rocky shore, and even over the sounds of the rapids.
His look of desperation was mirrored in the identical face that was staring back at him. Young Hansum’s teeth were gritted, determination and anger showing. Suddenly another set of eyes were looking at him. These other eyes were hovering right in front of his face, now blocking the younger Hansum and Guilietta.
“Pedang!”
“We must hurry, sir,” the young sword said. “Rapids.”
“The saddle cinch,” Hansum shouted. “Cut it. Follow me,” an
d he ducked underwater.
Even under water, the roar of the rapids was deafening. It was like they were in a large drum that was being constantly beaten. Hansum grabbed the flat, woven rope cinch and pulled at it with all his might. He pointed and Pedang slid under it. The A.I. sword twisted and the rope sliced apart. Independent now, the dead horse started to float away. Hansum kept hold of the rope cinch and wound it around his fist, to make sure it wouldn’t get away from him. Then he held out his hand and looked at Pedang, willing him to understand what he wanted. Pedang spun his blade around and placed his grip in Hansum’s hand. Hansum pointed upward with his chin and Pedang started pulling him. As they broke the surface, Hansum saw they were just entering the rapids. There were huge rocks and trunks of trees just a few paces from them.
“Pull us to the shore!” he shouted to Pedang. “Secure Guilietta,” he cried to the younger Hansum. He tensed as Pedang began pulling one arm toward land, while the current forced his other arm to bear the weight of a waterlogged saddle and two people being pulled in the opposite direction. The younger Hansum grabbed Guilietta around the waist and hugged the saddle to himself, so when the saddle was pulled, it wouldn’t strain her wrists. As they slowly made their way out of the rapids and toward the shore, the older Hansum looked back to see the poor dead horse tumble into the rocks, slamming and breaking against them. Its four limbs spun upward to the sky and then back into the water before being crushed against another huge bolder. As Hansum looked away, it was disappearing underwater.
As the shore came nearer, the current slowed somewhat, but it was still too fast to swim in.
“Transport us, Sideways,” Hansum called, and the A.I. cloak’s face appeared in the fabric.
“I can’t yet, Master Hansum. You’re too spread out. When you can stand in the water together . . .”
Hansum turned to see how Guilietta was doing. His younger self was lying on his back, the saddle in one arm, Guilietta in the other, her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were now closed, her lips blue. The younger Hansum caught his gaze and looked back at him with cold hatred, as if questioning, “How could you let this happen?”
