by Kir Lukovkin
“Paul,” Rick called out. “The world is not the way you imagine it. Think about it.”
There was no reply. Paul darted out of the cell and hurried back up above. Rick imagined the boy climbing up the stairs, constantly stopping to catch his breath like a wizened old man. Rick saw how he gradually returned to the world of light from the kingdom of darkness, but the pale light was but the shine of a cold November day that provided no warmth. A bleak and drab world spread out above.
That world had given someone a serious slap in the face today.
Rick turned to his side and fell asleep, feeling proud of himself.
D
THE DAY WAS COMING to its end, according to Rick's internal clock. Like the rest of the feelings enhanced by the darkness of his home, this one was rarely wrong. A bell rang somewhere far above. One peal, a second and a third...
The bell continued to ring — it was a special sign. When six men burst into the cell, Rick was already up and waiting for them.
“Hi!” he smiled at them.
They trussed him up and dragged him above. As soon as they reached the surface, they took him to the chapel where the local brotherhood had already begun to gather. By the time that his escorts led him up to it, there were many people packed inside. The doors of the chapel were left wide open, to allow the light and frosty breeze from outside to air it out. The convoy escorted Rick past the rows of worshipers towards the pulpit without stopping. Kiernan towered over it, dressed in a bright red robe with yellow sashes crossing over on his chest and a fur collar. The abbot clutched a paper scroll in his hands. His pale face showed a resolution to complete what he had started.
The bell finally fell silent, but the echo of its peals resonated through the chapel, reflected off the walls for a short while. Once the sound dissolved below the roof, a wave of whispers rolled through the crowd. Kiernan nodded curtly.
“My brethren!” he exclaimed, raising his hand up high.
Silence fell. The faces of the congregation turned towards the Abbot.
“My brothers in faith! We have gathered here today to resolve an important issue. It concerns a man named Rick, who recently arrived in out Retreat after a terrible battle at the canal. This man saved the lives of two of our people — Brother Paul and Brother Peter. He also helped to deliver the food supplies to our Retreat, which saved us all from starving to death.”
Kiernan took a deep breath and continued.
“We welcomed our friend Rick with great hospitality. We accepted him as our brother, gave him a roof over his head, a fire to warm him and out humble provender. Nothing was refused to him and he could freely move around the Retreat and do what he will. That is the proper way to treat a man that helped us. Our gratitude towards you for not leaving us in peril knows no bounds, friend Rick.”
The Abbot paused again, slowly passing his long gaze over those present and then continued, “However, an incident has occurred that still confuses and saddens me. Because our friend Rick was really interested in our holy faith, I could never refuse his request and allowed him to attend the Autumn Mass, so he could fully understand the teachings and perhaps join our faith. I was leading the Mass and all was going as well as it could, until our friend Rick interrupted the ceremony in the crudest way possible. Many of you were here and saw everything with your own eyes. You know what happened. The Mass had never ever been interrupted like that throughout the history of the retreat. Any of you would suffer a harsh punishment for such a deed. But because we are good people by our very nature, I decided that this was a simple misunderstanding. If that was all, we would not be standing here now.”
Kiernan flourished with his hand, pointing at Rick, and started shouting.
“But this man did not stop there!” His voice got louder. “This man had the arrogance to accuse us of a foul, insidious and base crime — he accused us of theft! Yes, you heard that right! Theft! He dared to declare that one of us, brothers, one of us had stolen his weapons, supplies and his bag. Just stop and think a moment how badly he thinks of us. Think of how much one must despise people to throw such accusations in their faces. And again, these aren't just words; many of you were there when it happened. This outsider felt so arrogant here that he decided that he will push and order us around! Only the darkest, most ignorant and pagan peoples are capable of such things. Only barbarians! Brutes! Savages!”
The Abbot shook his fists as he finished. His cry rose up to the top and dissipated under the vaulted ceiling. The worshipers held their breaths, transfixed.
“But this was not enough for this barbarian!” Kiernan started again. “When we tried to talk some sense into him, he injured one of our brothers so badly that the poor man is still in the medical chambers. I had to lock up our friend Rick in the interest of safety so he would not harm any of you, my dear brothers. What happened that day was this.” Kiernan started to count on his fingers. “The interruption of a ceremony, defamation of character and bodily injury. Even one of these deeds is sufficient to punish any of our flock to the full extent of the law. But we have a savage before us, so our laws do not apply to him. By the way, his equipment has been found. Here, look. It was lying around somewhere behind the temple. None of the brothers had laid a finger on it.”
Kiernan nodded. His assistant placed the bandoleer and the combat blaster on the table before the crowd. He put the travel bag by their side.
The Abbot declared, “Brothers, I have thought about what to do for a long time. And I have reached a decision.”
Rick chuckled loudly. Kiernan flinched as if he had been slapped in the face. The watching crowd showed signs of confusion.
The Abbot continued, “Crimes must be punished. However, because there is nothing he can offer us apart from his lost soul and considering his help as a mitigating factor, I have decided to take his bandoleer and weapon away. You accused us of the vile act of theft. You thought that you had lost your possessions because of us. Well, now we shall confiscate them from you!”
Kiernan's assistant threw Rick's bag on the floor.
“Take your belongings and be gone from our holy land,” Kiernan ordered, with a disgusted expression on his face. “Enough of you desecrating it with your presence!”
Rick clapped his hands and stepped forward.
“Bravo! What a beautiful speech,” he slowly turned around. “I can see that there is no point in explaining myself and proving you wrong. You need to listen so you can understand, but your ears are full of wool.” He shook his head. “All right then, I'm leaving.”
Rick hooked the strap of the bag with the point of his boot, kicked it upwards and skillfully caught it, putting it over his shoulder. He quickly slid his hand inside and suddenly looked grim. Silence fell.
“Now this, this is going too far,” Rick growled through his teeth.
He glanced over at Kiernan, who raised an eyebrow in pretend surprise.
“What are you talking about?”
Anger engulfed Rick. Did the Abbot think that he was an idiot? What arrogance!
He shouted, “You know full well, Kiernan! The map! Where is it the map?”
“What map?”
“There was a world map in my bag. It's no longer there!”
“Are you trying to say that it was our fault it disappeared?” Kiernan hissed, stepping towards him.
Rick heard a noise behind his back, but did not show that he noticed.
“Come on then, say it!” Kiernan offered. “Maybe you will also dare to declare that we are trying to cheat you here and now? Maybe you want to accuse us of lying again?”
Rick took his time. It was their home, so it was their rules. And the cunning Abbot obviously counted on provoking aggression. Rick took a deep breath and laughed, sadly.
“I have nothing to say. When there's a fanatical belief in lies, they become the truth. I'm leaving.”
He made a move to turn around, but the Abbot's assistant grabbed him by the shoulder. Rick's escorts suddenly appeared by his s
ide.
“We haven't finished yet!” Kiernan shouted. The fire of vengeance smoldered in his eyes. “Did you think you will get away with it so easily? Did you think that you can insult the sacred Retreat and its flock and go unpunished?”
Rick tried to move, but his escorts held him fast. They had fed him almost nothing over the last few days, so he had no strength to fight back.
“I immediately saw your devilish nature,” the Abbot shook his finger, “as soon as you entered the gates of the Retreat. I observed you. I saw how you mocked our faith. No one may laugh at us without punishment! You had the chance to leave hale and hearty, but you missed it, friend Rick! Look at him, brothers!” Kiernan raised his hands in exultation. “The beast has been trapped.”
“I am a barbarian,” Rick replied. “You cannot judge me.”
“That's right. But we can convert you to our faith.” Kiernan stretched out his hand and a brush covered with paint was placed in it. “I induct you in the name of the Holy Maus.”
The guards threw Rick down onto his knees. He tried to fight back, but their strength was too much for him. Kiernan painted his forehead and cheeks yellow and then unfurled the scroll and started to read the ancient prayer of initiation. Rick thrashed around in a rage, spitting and swearing.
“You are now one of us! We can now exorcise the corruption from you!”
The congregation became noisy.
“By fire!” the Abbot exclaimed.
“Fire!” the crowd echoed as they made their religious gestures. “Cleansing fire!”
Rick went cold. If it was what he thought, it would have been better to die of cold and starvation like the slaves in the cages...
Suddenly, a burning torch flew through the window of the chapel. A desperate scream sounded from outside. A member of the congregation burst in through the open door. His face was covered in blood.
“Fire!” he shouted. “Over there! There's a fire! They started a fire!”
Everyone immediately started to run out of the building. There was noise coming from all sides. Another burning torch flew into the chapel and landed right in the middle of the crowd. Someone cried out in pain and the congregation panicked. People were running to and fro, knocking each other over while trying to put out the torches, but the fire quickly spread to the draperies hanging on the walls. The smell of smoke was in the air.
“Settle down!” Kiernan shouted, but there were few who heeded his order.
The majority rushed towards the exit in a panic, knocking over the prison guards and the armed bodyguards of the Abbot. Rick did not waste time. While his escorts were looking around, he knocked one of them out and grabbed his blaster and bandoleer from the table. The others tried to stop him from escaping, but Rick managed to get away from them and rushed towards the exit, pushing his way through the crowd.
“Get him!” Kiernan screamed, spittle flying from his mouth in fury.
The inside of the chapel was filled with thick smoke. The partitions and the wooden furnishings were already on fire.
“It's the slaves! They've started a fire in the Retreat!” came the shouts from outside.
The chapel was rapidly emptying. When Rick went outside, he saw a terrible sight. Several dozen slaves were fighting to the death against the followers of Maus. Some cages in the yard had been broken open, but others still held prisoners that the free were trying to release. The majority were women and old men, but they fought with such ferocity that the grown men of the congregation retreated before their furious onslaught.
Rick ran around the corner and then towards to an empty cart by the building on the opposite side, crouching to check his blaster — the weapon was in full working order and ready for battle. But he would always have time to use the blaster. Rick raised his head to watch the yard and soon understood that there was a certain order to the actions of the slaves, which meant that they had a plan and that their revolt had been planned in advance. He watched a woman run up to the stables with a torch at the far end of the yard. She paused for a moment, looked around, flashed a nasty grin and threw the torch inside.
Screams of pain and anger, the clang of steel, muffled thumping sounds and the crackle of burning beams came from all sides. There was a strong burning smell in the air. Over half of the buildings in the Retreat were on fire. The greedy, long tongues of flame howled as they consumed the fresh paint on the sides of warehouse containers, trying to reach the food supplies. This black smoke rose upwards to the edges of the dome so it could sneak through the air ducts.
The ferocious battle in the yard continued. Humans were fighting other humans.
The world never changed — Rick remembered similar battles with no mercy or compassion frequently take place back in his Thermopolis home.
Once they rallied after the surprise attack, the Mausites started to push the slaves back towards the containers. Rick angrily spat on the frozen ground and understood that he could not stay there anymore — the Mausites would take care of the slaves sooner or later and the fire would even reach his hiding place before the fight in the yard would stop. He had to go through the yard as it was the only way to get out of there!
Rick darted forward and this was the moment when Paul stumbled out of the doorway of the chapel, rubbing soot and tears across his face as he could see nothing ahead of him as he coughed loudly because of the smoke he inhaled. A brown-eyed boy jumped towards Paul, brandishing a sickle. The gaze of the dark-haired slave burned with hatred. The boy raised his weapon, but Rick got there just in time. He grabbed the boy's arm and tore the sickle out of it. The boy hissed like a rat, twisted himself out of Rick's grip and darted away. Rick stepped towards Paul and put the sickle in his hand.
“Take it!”
“What for?” he moaned in reply.
By the great Expanse! Rick shook Paul by the shoulders.
“Wake up!” he shouted straight into Paul's face. “Take the weapon! If you want to live, follow me!” He ran towards the building which had been gutted by the explosion and which hid the entrance to the mine. Paul was breathing heavily and coughing behind his back, trying to keep pace. Rick kept looking around so that he would not miss a sudden attack from the slaves or the Mausites, but no one attacked him and Paul anymore.
The sounds of fighting and the howl of the fire were left behind them when Rick and Paul found themselves by the entrance to a stairway which spiraled downwards around the mineshaft. They could not help stopping for a moment — a guard and one of the women who started the fires were fighting at the edge of the platform in complete silence, as a torch which had been forced out of her hands lay burning beneath her feet. The guard was squeezing the woman's neck with his hands and she was trying to break his deadly grip.
Rick wanted to intervene, but he was not fast enough. The woman desperately thrust her fingers into the face of the guard, aiming for his eyes — there was a splash of blood, the guard howled in pain and flinched, but he never broke his hold as they fell upon the barrier. They kept fighting for a few moments longer but it was already too late once they realized what was happening — they both fell over the railings and disappeared down the mouth of the mineshaft.
Rick was used to seeing deaths. While he was not completely untouched by them, it was a long time since they made him dumbstruck the way Paul was now, so that he had to be shaken and directed where to go. Rick gathered the torch from the floor, grabbed hold of Paul's hand and dragged him down the stairway.
They went past several levels in this way until Rick stopped. His eyes feverishly searched the walls, floor and ceiling for a certain symbol. An airlock was bound to be somewhere here!
Paul sniffled loudly and shivered by his side. Rick stared at him.
“Are there any passages here?”
“D-do you mean the corridor on this floor? Th-there are four of them, one for each point of the compass.”
“Expanse take it, no! I need a corridor that will take us away from here!”
“I... I'
m not sure th-that...”
Rick came close to Paul, looking into his eyes.
“Get your act together and answer. Do you know the way or not?”
Paul suddenly stopped shaking, with composure coming back to his eyes and silently pointed to a place on the wall where there were ledges covered in a thick lair of rust and moss. Rick touched the wall, brushed away the growths and smiled as he saw the symbol marking the exit with the label “A (III)” in the dim light of the torch. He stepped back, passed the torch to Paul, moved the intensity switch on his blaster, aimed it at the symbol and held his breath.
Rick's finger found and pulled the trigger on the grip of the weapon. The blaster spat out a ball of fire and a large hole with rough edges appeared in the wall. There was no time to wait for the smoke to clear, so Rick stepped through the opening and found himself in a tunnel.
He turned around and asked, “Did you think about what I said after we spoke in the cell?”
Paul was looking at him with a mixture of horror and awe. Valuable time was being lost, but Rick waited patiently.
“Thoughts cause pain,” Paul said eventually.
“No one said that it would be easy.”
The sounds of fighting at the top suddenly fell silent. There was a distant rumble. The roof of one of the buildings had probably collapsed. Rick stepped out of the opening and glanced upwards — it looked like there was not time to waste as the revolt had now been crushed and the Mausites could appear in the mine shaft any minute.
“I want to defeat the cold,” Paul declared.
“Then get a move on,” Rick replied.
Rick dove into the tunnel. Paul followed and they both set off at a run.
The torch soon burned out and they spent a while moving in complete darkness, feeling along the walls until Rick got used to the gloom. The smell of damp earth and rotting plants came from the direction they were moving in. They could feel hard stone under their feet. Rick noticed a panel on the wall, which he then tried to open, hoping to find some switches, but his efforts were in vain. It wasn't too much of a problem, they would get lucky eventually.
