“Like the ark?”
“Exactly.”
“Can it be used to manipulate negative
intent?”
“Yes – and no. Because dragons were essentially spiritual creatures – Gawain, in particular, was highly revered – the
claw would react against any form of direct malice. This is how Aunt Gwyneth was defeated. She was attempting to destroy a sensory matrix called the Is, which the Higher control. The claw rejected her harmful intent. That’s how she ended up in the water. But the message she wrote in the boat is different. Any malevolence there was hidden in
ambiguity. The claw would respond to a positive plea for life.”
“But it hasn’t,” Harlan said, looking her way. The Aunt’s eyes were wrinkled but firmly shut. “Perhaps her fain was so weak as her life began to slip that she wasn’t able to realise her intent?”
“Perhaps,” said David. “But there’s
another, more worrying, possibility.
“The Higher were keen to impress on
me just how the claw works. I’m pretty sure Agawin knew when he sealed the claw away. He learned the truth about dragons. He knew their origins, their whereabouts and their gifts of prediction. But the part that would fascinate the phys:icist in you is their link to time, consciousness and matter. The claw draws upon the energy of universal flux and the principle of describing order from chaos. If that was applied over a time nexus, such as the one you tried to link to in your lab… ”
“Its effects might be delayed,” Harlan muttered. He turned away, feeling the dressing at his eye. This wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. “So she could keep us guessing for another twenty spins and still give us a nasty surprise one day.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“So what do you plan to do?”
“Hand her to Strømberg and leave it to him. We have the claw now. We can be ready for her if she turns up again.”
Harlan walked to the window and opened the shutters. Darkness had fallen and the water was calm. The many hundreds of boats that now accompanied the ark could only be identified by the coloured lights strung from their tipping masts. The heavy rain had given way to a sturdy breeze, which swept in to refresh the atmosphere in the room. One of the firebirds gave a grateful
rrrh
and looked pleased to have some air running through its feathers. Harlan drummed his fingertips against the shutters. “There’s something else you have to hear. Does the term
‘Isenfier’ mean anything to you?”
Not wishing to mention the tapestry yet, David just said, “In a reference book Mr Henry used to have, Isenfier is mentioned as the site of a battle. How did you learn of it?”
“In the Dead Lands I had a vision of
Gawain. I was warned about a Shadow,which I took to be the Ix. When the black
firebird came, I commingled with the Cluster that had got into its mind. The Ix were following a signal from Isenfier, hoping to track you down and kill you. When I asked the Ix why you were being targeted, they identified you as some kind of champion or saviour. With you gone, it was clear they thought they could win the battle – or that the battle could continue. I
wasn’t sure.”
“What was sending the signal?” David
asked. His tone was noticeably quieter
now.
His father turned to look at him. “A
dragon. A peculiar little thing. It held a pen – or possibly another claw. The Ix had a name for it. Creat:or, I think.” He paused a moment. “You know of this, don’t you?”
David pushed himself upright and came to the window. “I’ve seen an image of the dragon you’re talking about.” And he told his father then about Agawin’s tapestry, and how it described the battle of Isenfier, apparently suspended in time. For the moment, to preserve the calm, he said nothing about Penny’s presence on it – or Mathew’s, for that matter.
“Where is the tapestry? Can I see it?”
Harlan asked. Even with one eyefrowning, he looked every bit the devotedscientist.
David shook his head. “It disappearedduring the change. Two of our firebirdsare searching for it. I don’t want to upset Mum with this, so it would be best if youkept it to yourself for now.”
“Can you draw it? Or imagineersomething from memory?”
“I can try.”
“Good,” said Harlan. “Do what youcan. If this really is Agawin’s creation,we must show Mathew and Bernard at
least.”
David nodded in agreement. “I’d like Counsellor Strømberg to see it as well. Can we wait till he arrives?”
“Yes.”
Just then, the faint clang of a bellreached their ears. Both men instinctivelylooked up. And though there was no realchange to the scene, another bell wasstruck slightly nearer the first, then anotherand another. Until the ocean was ringingwith sound. And closer to the ark, voiceswere shouting. And they were all sayingone thing only.
Land.
4
Leaving orders with the firebirds to cometo him at once if there was any change in Aunt Gwyneth’s condition, David and hisfather headed for the nearest deck. Alongthe way, David picked up an eyeglass. Assoon as he was out in the cool night air hetrained it forward. Far beyond the leadingline of boats (scores of them had now gotin front of the ark), he thought he could seea faint wave of light. In the darkness, atthis distance, it was impossible to confirmthat it was land-based, but there was littlereason to doubt the message chain. Withinthe hour they would know for certain. Bymorning, they would see the land clearly.
Before he closed the eyeglass up,
David swivelled it towards another lightat the very prow of the vessel. There was Rosa, sitting astride a glowing Terrafonne. Her hair was being pulledback by the wind, accentuating thedelicate curve of her jaw and her long,slender neck. She looked stunning.
“Anything?” asked Harlan, cupping hiseyes (to no effect).
David took the glass away. “Too far totell.” He sat down on the deck with his
back against a cabin wall. “Dad, can I ask you something now?”
“Anything.”
“How did you escape from the Dead Lands?”
Harlan sat down a little more slowly and a little less comfortably. There was a gnawing pain across the centre of his back
and a chafing scanner burn above his left knee that even Eliza had not seen yet. “It wasn’t pretty,” he said as he stretched out his legs. “But your sister’s heard it and so should you.”
“You told
Penny
?”
“Only the bones,” Harlan chuckled. “If you’d been around at dinner you would have heard Mathew pepping her up. He managed to describe to her, in exciting detail, how we lit a huge fire to lure the Re:movers and steal their transport.”
“Is that true?”
“In essence, yes. We set the blaze in a ruined tower on top of a hill called the Isle of Alavon. It must have been seen
across half of Co:pern:ica. We also arranged torches in the shape of a letter ‘A’ on the wetland where the Re:movers
make their drops, to get them precisely where we wanted them. The marshes in
that region are perilous. In daylight, because of the abundance of grasses and the fact that the water is so shallow and
still, the land appears flat and walkable. But the entire morass is a giant pit of unfaithful ground and evil trenches. One false step and you’re sucked into slime, where all you can look forward to is slow suffocation. It’s quite horrifying.
“We trained on the marsh for three or four days, flagging up pathways and running them constantly, especially at night or when rain was in the air, until we were confident we knew the topography and could change direction at will – and survive. We dug makeshift hides in the driest ground so we could launch
simultaneous attacks from several directions. In those final few days we ate communally, so we could talk through the problems and dangers – and fears. When the chosen night came, we shook hands and wished each other brave fortune. Then we lit the beacon and waited. Twenty-one men. Armed with nothing but sticks, stones and grim determination. And it worked – if anything, a little too well.
“We had made preparations for two Re:movers in one vehicle. In the end, three came in two. Craft very similar to penal taxicars, but sleeker models, refitted for combat. Fearing we were out of our depth, I wanted to abandon the attack. I formed an idea to explain to the machines that we had lit the fire in praise of Agawin. There would have been
reprimands, some splitting up of the tribe, perhaps, but they probably wouldn’t have punished us too harshly. But before I could get the message out, a stone flew through the air and struck the first car, leaving one of its windows shattered. After that, we had no choice but to fight.
“The first manoeuvre went much as we’d planned it. Mathew leaped up, hurled another stone at the second taxicar, shouted some abuse and took off across
the marsh. Two Re:movers immediately went after him. We knew they would have some basic capability for adapting to the poor conditions, but we were gambling on the fact that the marsh is unpredictable. Sure enough, one of them ploughed straight in and went down to knee level while it was opening fire. In our hides, we
tightened our fists in triumph. But our elation was short-lived. From that moment
on our plan was exposed. While the sinking machine struggled, the other opened its wrist :com and asked the taxicar for assistance. We knew their databases were bound to be inadequate because there are no comparable conditions in Central. But those things learn fast. There was a beep and the standing machine swept another device across the marsh. I realised it was some kind of densito:meter, highlighting areas of solid ground. It took it less than ten secs to work out a route to Mathew.
“It went straight for him, covering the terrain at remarkable speed. Meanwhile, the sinking one had applied a kind of anti:grav to its body and was beginning to
overcome the suck of the marsh. Bernard said into my ear, ‘We need the weights’. We had roped together lines of stones, each just heavy enough for a man to carry. The idea was to loop them around the Re:movers at close range, hopefully to pull them down. I gave the order and eight of us ran forward. We came at it from behind in two groups, not expecting a great deal of resistance. But we were in for a serious shock. None of us knew that
the machines can dislocate their joints. The Re:mover unhinged its knees, swivelled a few degrees and opened fire. Our leading attacker, a huge hulk of a man with wild curly hair, was cut down in a moment. He fell heavily to the marsh, creating a dense spray of mud and water. Bernard stumbled into him and only
survived the next blast because he tripped and fell, injuring his ankle. The flash that was intended for Bernard struck the man behind him, searing his robe and the length of his arm. He cried out in agony and staggered sideways, losing his footing. He fell, face down into the marsh. There was no hope for him. Two dead and one crippled. And we were still some fifteen paces from our target.
“But we had the darkness and a medic
called Terance Humbey, who knew the best ground and had the speed to cross it. As the rest of us threw ourselves flat, Terance got around the side of the thing, swung his rope in both hands and landed a powerful blow to the side of the Re:mover’s head. I saw the head tilt as it
wrenched from the shoulder. A bunch of
wires sprang out. The Re:mover jerked and began to fire at random, lighting up the night with its scanner flares. Terance swung again, catching it another powerful blow. This time there was a crackle. The
smell of burning circuitry. By then I was on my feet and hoping to get my rope around the thing. As I closed in, the scanner flare that dazzled my eye went off and I lost my aim. The rope flew over the Re:mover’s shoulder, but one of the smaller stones lodged in the damage Terance had caused. The rope was left dangling down the Re:mover’s back. It wasn’t weight enough, but it
was
working. The machine had gone in to thigh level.
“It took another two ropes before it went under. We lost one more man and
another was scalded from his hip to his
heart before we dealt the blow that took out the scanner. Terance helped the machine on its way with another heavy swing, and the three of us still able to fight – myself, Terance and a man called Hugo Abbot – turned our attention to Mathew and the other groups hiding on the marsh.”
Harlan paused here and massaged the skin of his temples. “Forgive me. This next part is very difficult. I may stumble over the words.”
“Take as much time as you need,” said
David. “You’re doing just fine.”
Harlan nodded and removed his
bandage, holding it as if it was a cherished souvenir. Around the socket of
his eye, dark scanner burns were clearly visible. In his own words, not pretty. “By now, the second taxicar had taken off to go
to the assistance of the Re:mover on the marsh. I was watching its flight when I heard Bernard yelling out an urgent warning. I turned and saw an arm rising out of the mud. The Re:mover had a