The Abulon Dance (22 page)

“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.”

“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?”

Cham nodded, but when he got up and reached for the rope, he stumbled and fell. Triani scooped him up in his arms and lifted him in the air. “Try again,” he whispered.

“I can’t,” sobbed Cham. “Do something, Triani! Someone’s going to come! I know it!”

“Oh, shit! Climb on my back. Put your arms around my neck. That’s it.” Triani eased the fingers that threatened to cut of his breathing and took hold of the rope.

He hadn’t considered how he would get Cham out of here, assuming he could climb on his own. Now, Triani felt panic and fear, which he tried desperately to block so Cham wouldn’t pick it up. He was very strong, his muscles honed by years of punishing dance exercises, but apart from lifting his partner, he was not accustomed to carrying another person’s weight, certainly not this far, and although Cham might be small, he was solid. And Triani was very tired.

Cham had a death grip on his neck. His body was convulsed with suppressed sobs. “Can’t you do it?” he whispered.

“Of course I can do it!” hissed Triani. With a great spurt of energy, he hoisted himself and his passenger about half way up the rope and paused. His hands, slick with sweat, began to slip. Desperately he grasped the rope with his knees and ankles and regained the lost inches, only to slip again—further this time. He felt Cham’s hot tears on his neck. The kid was barely breathing. Triani gritted his teeth. He felt his muscles burn and pull as he desperately struggled to get further up the swaying rope. The constant motion made him dizzy and he had to pause again. A fatal pause. His hands slipped.

“No!” Triani tensed his thigh muscles and pushed upwards. The rope began to move!

At this point Triani didn’t care who was on the other end, just so long as he got Cham out of the darkness of this inferno! When his hands hit the metal of the vent, he pulled himself and Cham up and into its curving tube and lay flat on his stomach, still clutching the rope with his knees. The line pulled them steadily into the light.

Luan’s strong arms hauled them into the fresh air.

“You are all right?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Ask me again when we get back.”

Luan handed Cham into the waiting arms of Marselind, and Triani was lifted down after him.

“Now what, sweetie? How do we get the hell out of here? I don’t see any beasts around.”

“We will go by S.D.T.” Marselind was rolling up the rope and fastening it neatly with a clip.

“Translation?”

“Short Distance Transit-car. They’re illegal now, but I have pieced one together from scraps, with the help of the Kolaris who understand such things. Come. It is hidden nearby.”

“Won’t someone else think of this?” Triani asked. “I mean, they know about your creation, right? So they’d want to destroy it.”

“They know about its existence, yes. Few people know where it is. Come. It’s on the other side of the gorge.”

Several of the men rigged up a sort of litter for Cham and Eulio, leaving the exhausted Triani to stumble along on his own.

When they finally reached a rocky hollow, strewn with great boulders, and Marselind uncovered the car, Triani gasped. He had never seen such an unsafe-looking vehicle in his life. It looked as if it had been cobbled together from parts left over from something else entirely.

“And you expect that thing to get us all out of here?”

“It should work,” said Marselind calmly.

“Why? It looks like an antique desert glider after a major collision.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” said Eulio.

“Neither do I,” agreed Marselind, “so unless anyone has any other ideas, I suggest you all climb in—Merculians first.” The dancers huddled together, secured in place by a wide harness, made out of the rope Triani had used. Cham clung to him, his eyes tightly shut. Eulio couldn’t see anything anyway, so Triani was the only one who took in the frightening details of the ramshackle craft’s peculiar construction. He wondered if it would stay together, once it got airborne, if indeed it could get airborne. And how did Marselind know how to pilot the thing, since private vehicles were prohibited? He decided not to ask any questions. Marselind seemed to be full of surprises. And Xenobar, his Kolari Captain, seemed right at home in the thing.

“Don’t worry,” Xenobar said to Triani, just before take-off. “We Kolaris have this knowledge in our genes.”

With that, the craft roared into the air and dipped sideways, narrowly missing the top of the cliff. Triani closed his eyes and tried to remember how to pray.

It was, without a doubt, the worst air tip he had ever experienced. He was relieved when the thing clanked back to the ground with an ominous rattle that sounded as if it had lost a few important bits of its anatomy. It was hard to understand why the Abulonians and Kolaris seemed so pleased with themselves. Their arrival was heralded with much back-slapping and growls of approval by the men and women who swarmed out to greet them. Triani bit back the acid comments and concentrated on getting Cham and Eulio out of the cursed thing.

They were escorted to a clearing in the forest, where more men and women milled around. They looked as if they were used to a rough life but they were friendly and very curious about the Merculians. Several of the women brought some hard round biscuits and soup for them to eat.

“This stuff is inedible,” muttered Eulio, dropping a biscuit discreetly behind the rock he was sitting on. “When will we get out of here?”

“We will take a short rest, then travel down the river to the city,” one of the women informed him. She reached down, retrieved the discarded biscuit and put it back in her bag.

“That sounds more like it,” Triani declared. After all, anyone can navigate a boat, he thought, dipping his biscuit in the warm liquid to soften it for Cham.

But the tension and anxiety was all too much for the young dancer. Cham fell forward in exhaustion, into Triani’s arms. Eulio, too, was drained. His eyes were closing, even as he tried to get comfortable amongst the rocks and stumps where they sat. In a few moments, only Triani remained awake, one arm around Cham, as he watched the soldiers milling about Marselind and Luan. The scene was like some weird dream to him, the smoke from the cooking fires, the blackened earth, the giant trees reaching up towards the lavender sky and the murmur of alien voices just outside the range of his sub-trans, so he couldn’t hear any words. All that came to him was a deep murmur, as if the ocean were rolling in around him. His head nodded lower…lower….

Luan felt increasingly confused by the attitude of the soldiers around him. It was unsettling enough being questioned by people he had always regarded as things, without this further insult to his honor. The questions rattled around him like gunfire. “Why are you here?” “Will you do anything for us?” “What is your motivation?” “Is this just an adventure to you? A way to prove your manhood?”

“Stop!” Marselind raised his hand imperiously. “This is Luan, Am Quar, and he deserves the courtesy of a chance to answer your questions, in his own way. That I vouch for him should be enough.”

“I stand with Marselind on this,” Xenobar said, taking his place beside his leader.

“Well I want more proof! I don’t know this Marselind well enough to take his word on a matter this important!”

“How dare you question one of your leaders!” cried another voice.

“This whole movement is about questioning authority!” shouted a third man. “That’s the whole point!”

“Wait!” Luan jumped up on a boulder that thrust out into the crude clearing. “I do not need anyone to speak for me. Listen, and I will tell you why I am here and what I dream.”

The group fell silent, shifting back so they could stand in a semi-circle around the rock where he stood.

Luan took a deep breath and raised his head to look into the distance where the sun slanted through the trees like spears of light. “You have a right to question my being here,” he began. “It is only recently that I have glimpsed the dream about the mountains. I do not have the right to claim this dream, but I can tell you what I feel. I am a youth, and I have the strength and vision of youth. I was born into power, and I have drunk deep of that heady water. I am the dream-son of Quetzelan, and he saw my vision of the mountains, although it was very unclear.” At this, a murmur swept through the crowd. Luan pushed on, not wanting to lose the thread. “I am not a Hunter, but I understand the code of honor. I am not a traitor, but I understand your position. I am here because I think my father is wrong not to try to talk to Yonan. There
is
a way to work things out between us!” At this, his words were drowned out by a growing rumble of approval. Luan felt a great wave of energy pulse through him. He touched the amulet at this throat and reached for the words he felt in his heart. Somehow they arranged themselves in order. He talked about an end to fighting, to innocent lives being lost for something which could be worked out. He talked about the shock he felt when he found out about the Kolaris. He talked about the long road ahead, because his father would not come around easily. He admitted he had no easy answers to the questions he sensed hanging in the air around him. The only thing he could promise, when and if he had the power, was an amnesty for the rebel soldiers. This, too, would take long and careful planning. “But it can be done! I see a land where Kolaris and Abulonians can live together as equals! I see a land where there is no fear! I see a land where we will be accepted into the I.P.A., where we will learn again the technology secrets lost when the Kolaris were enslaved. That is my dream! That is what I will strive for, should I be elected as Chief. I assure you, I am not a traitor—to any one!”