Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (8 page)

“Chance?”
I asked.  “Or choice?  Don’t your people believe that the Chaer-Ul has
something to say about what does and does not transpire?”

She
looked surprised.  Then a warm smile spread across her tear-glazed face, and
she breathed more easily.  “We do indeed.”

8

Nobody
asked me about what had happened in the wilderness.  I kind of expected that
they would, at least those who had known where Reya was taking me.  Instead I
got a few knowing smiles, as if they thought I had received some great
revelation, that I had now become enlightened, self-aware, knowing my true
identity and purpose.  I hadn't.  I looked away whenever I encountered these
faces.  I was not "Martyr", or Tal-Makai.  I was no warrior or hero,
and had no intention of "becoming" any of that.  I had learned a fair
bit more about this world to which I had come, but it seemed the only one who
knew why I was here rather than snug in my dorm room bed was a mysterious
entity called Chaer-Ul, and he or it seemed content to keep me in shadows over
the matter. 

After
my chat with Reya, I had made my way back into the camp as she busied herself
with the mundane tasks of running a rebel camp.  Jeyt caught up with me and
offered to lend me his expertise in spear-handling with a couple of free
lessons.  I promised to take him up on that later, as he had clearly already
had a few draughts and throwing pointy things in his present condition didn't
seem the best idea.  I joined the broad circle of faces around the bonfire,
where Maya was entertaining with tales of vehicle theft and the latest news
from the south.  The people watched with rapt attention, as many of them had
friends or loved ones in other camps.  I spotted Doog sitting on the far side
of the circle, looking stoic and detached.  It occurred to me that I hadn't
heard him speak since our forest meeting earlier. 

I
let my gaze drift to Maya, who was acting out her adventures with dramatic
gestures in the center of the clearing.  She had found opportunity to refresh
herself since we had parted, and I was able to make a better analysis of her
features.  The eyes were Reya, no doubt, but without the soot I could see that
there were more differences than I had at first suspected.  Her face was
smaller than Reya's, nose more delicate, lips a bit fuller and more shaped. 
And efforts had been made to tame all of that hair - a long braid down each
side of her face and the rest pulled back into a thick ponytail.  A few wavy
strands danced about the corners of her forehead.  And all of it shimmered in
the firelight.  She was beautiful.  Maya was a few centimeters shorter than her
mother, but still quite tall and stately, if a bit wiry.  As she painted her
tales in dramatic pantomimed strokes, her bodily movements mirrored in
flickering shadows on the dusty earth, the effect was intoxicating.  An hour
passed without notice.  When at last I caught myself nodding, I removed myself
to my tent. 

Sleep
came fast and easy.  I dreamed.  Not the horrific images of Tal-Makai's final
moments that I might have expected, but a vision of serenity.  I stood as if
emerging from a dense forest that stretched for miles behind me and to either
side.  Before me the trees ended abruptly as a towering slope of soft-grassed
green rose before me, almost to the clouds.  At its peak, the great tree of my
former vision.  At its sight all the lesser trees of the forest bent in
reverent genuflexion.  I felt compelled to do the same, but a voice said,
"Come up." I began to climb the steepness before me, and found it
surprisingly effortless.  Gold-edged clouds drifted slowly over my head from
beyond the mountain, sailing through a lavender-hued sky.  As I drew at last
near the enormous tree that dominated this surreal landscape, I paused, as I
saw several armored figures approaching its trunk.

As
I drew closer still, I saw that the men and their armor were fashioned of
carved wood, and the axes they carried were made of bark.  With these they
began to hack at the base of the tree.  The tree's trunk, I could see now, was
made of unpolished steel, and the arboreal implements quite naturally shattered
as they struck its impervious surface.  The men paused, looked at one another
in wonder, then they too splintered and flew apart as if struck by unseen bolts
of lightning.  The voice was the thunder: "Become!"  Startled, I woke
suddenly and sat up.  At once I thought I saw a shadow pass across the front of
my tent.  A moment later it was followed by a pair of feet.  Crawling to the
flap I pulled it cautiously aside and in the dim glow from the dying fire saw Maya,
followed closely by Doog, stalking through the camp in the direction of the
fallen chopper.  Doog carried armfuls of mechanical parts, Maya a large
toolbox.  I dressed hastily and followed them at a distance, stepping carefully
to avoid twigs that would betray my presence.

They
moved through the camp with care, but more swiftly once they reached the
woods.  There was a moon in the sky, but it passed in and out of cloud cover,
so I struggled to keep their dark forms in sight without tailing close enough
to be heard.  Finally I decided it would be safer to let them slip out of view
and only follow the sounds of their passage.  I fell back, and when the
snapping of branches and crinkling of leaves was but a distant whisper, I
resumed my pursuit.  Whenever the sounds grew almost inaudible, I picked up the
pace momentarily.  I found it necessary to do this more and more frequently. 
How fast could they run with all that heavy equipment?  And this seemed a lot
farther on foot.  I was sweating as I raced faster and faster, now a bit
terrified of losing the sounds entirely and being lost in these woods, unable
to find my way either to the helicopter or back to camp.  Why had I come out
here after them again?  I ran on, panting heavily, then gasping, lungs aching. 
Then suddenly, unexpectedly, all sounds stopped.  I froze.  Had they reached
the clearing?  Had I lost them?  I waited a long couple of minutes, then heard
the sounds abruptly resume, far ahead and slightly to my left.  I dashed in
that direction and felt something solid knock me in the windpipe.  I went down,
flat on my back, gulping air.  I knew it hadn't been a tree branch.  I lifted
my head and looked up, straining to make out shapes in the darkness, expecting
to see the hulking form of Doog towering over me.  Instead my eyes met Maya's,
which looked back with a scolding expression.  "Why are you following us?"
she demanded.     

"Why
are you being sneaky?" I asked.

"We're
not being sneaky, we're being smart.  Magus' people will be looking for that
'copter.  If they find it before we get it running again they'll take it back,
and then he'll have air power too.  They don't sleep, so why should we?"

I
felt quite foolish of a sudden.  "Makes sense.  Sorry about the following
and all.  I just wanted to know what was going on."

"Mm-hm."
She turned to Doog, who had come back to examine Maya's handiwork.  "This
one's curious," she said, tipping her head in my general direction.  Doog
smiled and returned the nod, but said nothing.  "I once summoned a big cat
to kill a curious guy."

"I
don't think that's how that saying goes," I said.

"Saying?"
Maya replied, looking genuinely confused.  I felt a tiny chill pass through me,
and decided to direct the conversation elsewhere.  First I picked myself up off
the ground. 

"So,
as long as I'm here, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not
likely," she said.  "Unless of course you have a degree in aviation
repair."

"Sorry,
no.  Does Doog?" I asked, expecting a negative response.

"No. 
But he is strong enough to carry heavy things.  Which I can see you are
not."  That one stung a little.  "Anyway, I've heard some strange
things about you over the course of the evening.  That you've come back from
the dead, or from another planet or something.  That you're really important. 
Aren't you supposed to be supervised at all times?"

"I'm
nobody special.  And I can take care of myself," I said.

"Still,
I don't think Reya'd be too happy if I let you wander about in the woods alone
at night.  You'd better stick with me 'n' Doog for now."

It
became my job to keep watch, for either Magus’ scouts or unwelcome company from
the camp.  I climbed a medium-sized white pine that had taken  root amidst the
smaller spruce, and found myself a comfortable perch that afforded views in all
directions.  Maya set about fixing the chopper, occasionally asking Doog for a
part or handing him one she’d removed.  At first it was too dark to see much of
anything, unless someone happened our way with a torch.  But by now dawn was
already frosting the horizon beyond the farthest treetops, and soon beams of
sunlight were penetrating every gap in the forest’s cover and warming its leafy
carpet.  I could easily see a quarter mile into the surrounding woods in any
given direction.  I spotted a small herd of puurr-deer grazing on the budding
upper foliage to the southwest, and a family of pheasants just to our west. 
Otherwise, nothing stirred.  Below me, Maya continued her work, which to my
untrained eyes looked more like dismantling than repairing.  But she had gotten
it in the air and flown it here, so I presumed she knew what she was doing. 
Her face and hands were starting to collect streaks of grease anew.  

Suddenly
she shouted.  “Oh no!”  I nearly fell from the tree.  When I recovered, I
quickly scanned the surrounding woods for an approaching threat, but saw
nothing. 

“What’s
the matter?” I called down.

“The
black tube thingy is ruined!  It’s melted right through, I don’t think I can
fix it.”

“So
is that it?” I asked.  “No more air support?”

“Well,
I saw a town on my way in, just a couple of miles to the south.  Looked like an
old mill town.  It won’t have helicopter parts, of course, but we may be able
to find something that will work.”

“Are
towns safe?” I asked.

“Not
always.  Most of the cities are patrolled periodically by a contingent of
Magus’ troops.  But smaller towns can be kind of a mixed bag.  Usually not
Magus’ people, but the locals sometimes have their own agendas.  This was a
pretty small town I saw, so it might be abandoned, or it might be OK,” Maya
said.

“Or
it might not,” I added helpfully.

“Or
it might not.  But we’ve got Doog.  That’s a pretty good backup plan right
there.”  Doog was smiling.

“OK,”
I said.  “Now the question of transport.  I saw some puurr-deer nearby.  But we
don’t know how…”  I was almost toppled from my perch again as a startling but
familiar, hollow sound issued forth from the lungs of the young woman below
me.  “I thought your faction weren’t familiar with the puurr-deer?”

“Of
course we know them!” exclaimed Maya.  “We wouldn’t have lasted as long as we
have against Magus’ hordes if we didn’t.  I just normally prefer mechanical
forms of mobility.”  That seemed somehow fitting.

A
pair of the great animals trotted into view.  “How’d you happen to get two?” I
asked. 

“”You
don’t speak puurr-deer?  I clearly said, ‘Two, please’.”  I could’ve sworn she
winked at me.  Maya mounted one deer and Doog the other.  “He’s heavy,” she
said.  “You’ll have to ride with me.”  Not particularly disappointed, I made my
way down the trunk of my tree and then, taking her hand, directly onto the
animal without touching the ground.  Maya made a burbling sound to her mount
and we were off.  I skipped the bashful routine in favor of not being thrown to
my death, and held on to her tightly.  “A man of action, not words, I see,”
Maya chided.

“Actually,
I am a man of words.  I study language.  Or I used to, anyway.”

“Maybe
battle tactics would’ve been better,” she replied.  “Magus isn’t much for
negotiation.”

“I
don’t plan to be here long enough to find out,” I said. 

Maya
looked back over her shoulder at me, one eyebrow raised.   “When do you expect
the mothership to come back for you?”

“Funny. 
And I’m not from another planet.  But I definitely don’t belong here.”

No,
obviously not,” she said.  “But the kind of thing you’re talking about, only
Chaer-Ul can help you with that.  Maybe if you talk to him…”  She seemed to be
genuinely trying to help.

“I
tried that,” I replied.  “I don’t think I did it right.”

“You
spoke with Chaer-Ul?!!?”  What did he say?  What do you mean, ‘didn’t do it
right’?  All you have to do is listen.  Whatever he said, just do that!”

“Yeah,”
I said.  “That’s the part I screwed up.  The listening.”