wondered what they were...'
'Do you think they had Knowledge?'
Olympia raised her eyebrows. 'I didn't bring you here to show you something to do with Knowledge or the Marked, Elra. I brought you here to show you humanity.'
Elra looked again at those footsteps. She carefully slipped off her sneakers, removed her socks, and delicately placed her bare foot in the nearest footprint. It was bigger than hers, but the fit was comfortable, as if the stone were embracing her foot.
Out on the endless plain below, the sun silently broke over the distant horizon.
Forty-two
Time passed slower in the heat, Cali found. It was accompanied by relentless, exhausting, sweaty boredom, made even more unbearable by the slightly uneven weight of her head, thanks to the Speaking Ear. And even though her cage now had the cloth cover, the air itself was alive with a dry fire which only abated at sunset. She’d discarded her jeans long ago, sacrificing modesty for comfort. Thank god she'd kept her hair band. She spent most of her time lying down on her straw bedding, chewing on pieces of dried meat, looking forward to her next meal and next human interaction.
It had only been two days.
The uncertainty was the worst part, but at least escape was on the cards. Massur seemed nice enough, if not slightly foreign. Amin was clearly out for his own ends, but if they could come to a mutual agreement...
Her thought process was interrupted by the gate being opened. It was too early for a meal, the sun had not yet dipped beyond the wall. Was this escape, come to greet her?
It was Amin. He ran awkwardly across the dark sand in his wooden clogs.
'He is coming!'
'Who?' Cali asked, sitting up.
'Zar Mittander!' he announced, wide-eyed. 'Here, stand up. You mustn't talk to him unless he asks you a question. Try not to stare at his face. Well, you can't see his face, but try not to level your gaze at his mask.'
'He's... masked?'
'Yes, they do it so no-one in public knows what they look like, so they can't be assassinated.'
'They? Who's they?'
But it was too late. A detail of sentinels marched through the gate and Amin retreated to one side, head bowed, silent. Behind them came Massur, hands folded in front, a solemn expression set on his face. Then what looked like a litter, carried by numerous clog-wearing slaves, each one with a Speaking Ear. Inside, Cali presumed, was Zar Mittander.
The procession came to a halt in front of her cage. The sentinels lined up on each side, forming an avenue, and the slaves gently set the litter down between them. Cali noted the fearful look on Amin's face as the sentinels came to attention in one swift movement, armor and weapons clanking in unison. Massur respectfully opened the litter's door.
A sweet, perfumed smell emanated from within, delicate and floral, yet somehow alien to Cali's nostrils.
Out stepped a jagged red monstrosity, somewhere within which a human body was hidden. It was mainly head-dress: a large circular mask, with no discernible eye or breathing holes. It was a violent red color, exactly like the setting sun; the face that was carved into it was blank-eyed and emotionless, almost rudimentary in its design. Regardless, it made for quite an imposing sight, if not a slightly scary one.
The body covering was no better. It was somewhere between a suit of armor and a burqa, the same shocking shade of crimson that seemed to want to out-compete the red of the sentinel's robes. Cali had no doubt that it was bulletproof (or, more topically, dagger proof). She shuddered as the sweet-smelling hellish vision approached.
'Massur, you be my ears. How is it doing?' the voice behind the mask asked.
'Restless, but in good spirits, my Zar,' Massur replied, looking in Cali's direction.
'Ask it if it likes the food,'
'Do you?' Massur asked Cali.
'Yes,' she replied, feeling almost physically sick at being called “it”.
'The food is quite appreciated,' Massur relayed.
'That is good to hear. Now, does it know why it's here?'
'No,' Cali replied, pre-emptively. Massur translated.
'Better that way,' Zar Mittander continued. 'Not that it matters. So, you said it was from... actually, where is it from in the othertime, geographically?'
'The north,' Massur explained. 'Far north, judging by the temperature monitored.'
'What is the character of their culture, in that part?'
'Difficult to say, my Zar. Technologically, fairly advanced. The vehicle in which she entered...'
'Automotive, I understand. A substitute for slaves, you thought?'
'Yes. One can conjecture that their economy lacks slavery.'
'Fascinating,' Zar Mittander exclaimed. 'Religious basis?'
'We heard one of the other two invoke a nonspecific deity whilst severely injured. He essentially repeated "oh god" - singular, masculine - and variations of such.'
'And am I to understand they have since deceased?'
'Yes, my Zar. I am in the process of writing a treatise on the information their clothing, items and vehicle provided us.'
The policemen.
'Good. Give it to me when finished. I will detail a trusted slave of mine to bear it to me, with a guard. We need to ensure our colleagues in the Pillar of Valor understand its sensitive nature. It will be useful to them in time, when they bring the Hegemony forth,' he explained, 'but until then, it'd be best kept by the Pillar of Faith.' Then, resuming his previous thread, 'has this one ever made reference to religion?'
'None.'
'Aha. Ask it - what is its world-view?'
Massur looked at Cali with a slightly defeated expression on his face. 'You do understand, my Zar, that it has no fundamental understanding of Manu?'
'Naturally. I want to see if it can comprehend it.'
'If someone explained it to me, I might,' Cali said, frustrated by the opaque nature of their back-and-forth. She saw Amin flinch when she spoke.
Zar Mittander perked up. 'What did it say?'
Massur looked nervous. 'Nothing of importance. Slave babble.'
The silence was deafening. Eventually, the Zar's perfumed tones resumed. 'Purely for the sake of personal interest, I would like a full treatise on its conception of the ultimate, on any gods it may believe in, and on its religious practices. Before we take it to the Mouth of the Rift, of course.'
'Of course, my Zar.'
'Talking of which – it is necessary that it be strong. Well fed. That is the primary reason I permitted you to feed it our food. It has to be able to cope.'
'I hope it is not out of place to ask, but when will the Mouth be ready, my Zar?'
'Days. Three, at most,' he said, gruffly. ‘One day, Massur. One day these insects will see the beauty of our will.'
'By the will of Zaloth Zar, they shall.'
Zar Mittander snorted as he clambered back into his litter. 'By the will of Zaloth Zar.’
Forty-three
'What were you thinking?!' Amin hissed once they'd gone.
'What have I got to lose? They clearly want me for something important, so it's not like they'd kill me or anything.'
Amin went a bit green. 'They might do worse,' he gulped. 'The Manu believe in one thing: Manu. The rest of us, we are nothing to them. Disposable tools at best, animals at worst.'
'So, how's this escape plan coming along,' Cali asked casually. 'I don't know what this "Mouth" is, but I'd rather not find out.'
He looked pained, stretched somehow. 'I know three days is all we have, but we have to wait for the right time. Everything is in place, we just need the moment.'
'Well, let's hope it arrives. But seriously, have any of the Dalali - '
'Dalari.'
'Sorry, Dalari - found out what the Mouth is? Overheard something, maybe?'
'They say...' Amin began, before quickly clamming up. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.
'What do they say, Amin?'
'It does not matter. The Manu - they talk of their power as if they wer
e gods, but they forget they are still human.'
Cali looked him directly in the eye, lowering her voice to a soft, warm tone. 'What is the Mouth of the Rift, Amin?'
'The Manu sentinels say it breaks your soul in half,' he said quietly, moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. 'Only the Manu could devise such a nasty device.'
'Your soul?'
'Yes!' Amin sobbed, his tears glistening on his black and white skin. 'All the Dalari have left is our soul. Our one big soul. And even that they want to destroy.'
Cali reached through the bars of the cage and took him by the shoulders. 'They won't do that. Do you know why? Because you're going to get me out, and I'm going to help you stop them. They will never have any souls to break. I will come with you to... where again?'
'The slave camps. The Mountains of the Moon.'
'...the Mountains of the Moon,' Cali repeated, not believing the words coming out of her mouth, 'and we will free your people.'
Forty-four
'Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain. The weather is looking clear, should be an easy ride stateside. The temperature in Austin is twenty degrees Celsius, that's about 68 Fahrenheit. Please fasten your seat-belts and stow all tray tables in their upright position. Cabin crew: cross check.'
Zhen and Harland had a pair of seats by a window. They buckled themselves in as the plane's engines rumbled into life, edging the titanic vehicle slowly forwards into the taxiing area.
'I'm glad we're doing this,' Harland said, taking Zhen by the hand. He ran the pad of his index finger across the Fire marks spiraled on each of her digits, the same marks which she'd last ignited against her own son.
'Long time in the coming,' she replied, smiling. 'Should have done this ages