10

Helward passed a hungry night, and slept badly. In the morning he took a few mouthfuls of water and was soon on his way. The city must be in sight soon. .

In the hottest part of the day, Helward was forced to rest. The countryside was barren and open, with little shade. He sat down beside the track.

Staring bleakly ahead, he saw something which gave him fresh hope: three people were walking slowly down the track towards him. They must be from the city, sent out to find him. He waited weakly for them to reach him.

As they approached he tried to stand, but stumbled. He lay still.

“Are you from the city?”

Helward opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker. It was a young man, dressed in a guild-apprentice uniform. He nodded, his jaw slack.

“You’re ill… what’s the matter?”

“I’m O.K. Have you any food?”

“Drink this.”

A canteen of water was offered, and Helward took a mouthful. The water tasted different: it was stale and flat, city water.

“Can you stand?”

With assistance, Helward got to his feet and they walked together away from the track to where a few scrawny bushes grew. Helward sat down on the ground, and the young man opened his pack. With a start of recognition, Helward realized the pack was identical to his own.

“Do I know you?” he said.

“Apprentice Kellen Li-Chen.”

Li-Chen! He remembered him from the crèche. “I’m He!ward Mann.”

Kellen Li-Chen opened a packet of dehydrated food and insinuated some water. Soon a familiar portion of gray porridge was before him, and Helward began to eat it with as near a mood of enthusiasm as he could ever recall.

In the background, some yards away, two girls stood and waited.

“You’re going down past,” he said between mouthfuls.

“Yes.”

“I’ve just been.”

“What’s there?”

Suddenly, Helward remembered meeting Torrold Pelham under almost identical circumstances.

“You’re down past now,” he said. “Can’t you feel it?”

Kellen shook his head.

“What do you mean?” he said.

Helward meant the southwards pressure, the subtle pull of which he could still feel as he walked. But he understood now that Kellen had probably not yet noticed it. Until it had been experienced in its extremeness, it would not be recognized as a discrete sensation.

“It’s impossible to talk about it,” Helward said. “Go down past and you’ll see for yourself.”

Helward glanced over at the girls. They were sitting on the ground, their backs turned quite deliberately on the men. He couldn’t help smiling to himself.

“Kellen… how far is the city from here?”

“A few miles back. About five.”

Five miles! Then by now it must have easily overtaken the optimum.

“Can you give me some food? Just a little… enough to get me back to the city.”

“Of course.”

Kellen took four packets, and handed them over. Helward looked at them for a moment, then handed three of them back.

“One will be enough. You’ll need the rest.”

“I haven’t got far to go,” said Kellen.

“I know… but you’ll still need them.” He looked again at the other apprentice. “How long have you been out of the crèche, Kellen?”

“About fifteen miles.”

But Kellen was much younger than him. He remembered distinctly: Kellen had been two grades below him in the crèche. They must be recruiting apprentices much earlier now. But Kellen looked mature and well filled. His body was not that of an adolescent.

“How old are you?” he said.

“Six hundred and sixty-five.”

That couldn’t be so… he was at least fifty miles younger than Helward, who was by his own reckoning six hundred and seventy.

“Have you been working on the tracks?”

“Yes: Bloody hard work.”

“I know. How has the city been able to move so fast?”

“Fast? It’s been a bad period. We had a river to cross, and at the moment the city is held up by hilly country. We’ve lost a lot of ground. When I left, it was six miles behind optimum.”

“Six miles! Then the optimum’s moved faster?”

“Not as far as I know.” Kellen was looking over his shoulder at the girls. “I think I’d better be moving on now. Are you O.K.?”

“Yes. How are you getting on with them?”

Kellen grinned.

“Not bad,” he said. “Language barriers, but I think I can find a bit of common vocabulary.”

Helward laughed, and again remembered Pelham.

“Make it soon,” he said. “It gets difficult later.”

Kellen Li-Chen stared at him for a moment, then stood up.

“The sooner the better, I think,” he said. He went back to the girls, who complained loudly when they realized their break had been only a short one. As they walked past him, Helward saw that one of the girls had unbuttoned her shirt all down the front, and had tied it with a knot.

With the food Kellen had given him, Helward felt certain of reaching the city without any further problems. After the distance he had travelled, another five miles was as nothing, and he anticipated reaching the city by nightfall. The countryside around him was now entirely new to him: in spite of what Kellen had said it certainly seemed that the city had made good progress during his absence.

Evening approached, and still there was no sign of the city.

The only hopeful indication was that now the scars left by the sleepers were of more normal dimensions; the next time Helward stopped for water he measured the nearest pit and estimated that it was about six feet long.

Ahead of him was rising ground, and he could see a ridge over which the track-remains ran. He felt sure the city must be lying in the hollow beyond and so he pressed on, hoping for a sight of it before nightfall.

The sun was touching the horizon as he reached the ridge, and looked down into the valley.

A broad river flowed across the floor of the valley. The tracks reached the southern bank… and continued on the further side. As far as he could see they continued up across the valley until lost to sight amongst some woodland. There was no sign of the city.

Angry and confused, Helward stared at the valley until darkness fell, then made his camp for the night.

In the morning he started out soon after daybreak, and within a few minutes was by the bank of the river. On this side there were many signs of human activity: the ground by the side of the water had been churned into a muddy waste, and there was a great deal of discarded timber and broken sleeper-foundations. In the water itself were several timber piles, presumably all that now remained of the bridge the city had had to build.

Helward waded down into the water, holding on to the nearest pile for support. As the water deepened he started to swim, but the current took him and he was swept a long way downstream before he could haul himself on to the northern bank.

Soaked through, he walked back upstream until he reached the track remains. His pack and clothes weighed heavily on him, so he undressed and laid his clothes in the sun, then spread the sleeping-bag and canvas pack. An hour later his clothes were dry, so he pulled them on again and prepared to move off. The sleeping-bag was still not completely dry, but he planned to air it at his next stop.

Just as he was strapping his pack into place, there was a rattling noise and something plucked at his shoulder. Helward turned his head in time to see a crossbow quarrel fall on the ground.

He dived for cover into one of the sleeper-foundations.

“Stay right there!”

He looked in the direction of the voice; he couldn’t see the speaker, but there was a clump of bushes some fifty yards away.

Helward examined his shoulder: the quarrel had torn away a section of his sleeve, but it had not drawn blood. He was defenceless, having lost his crossbow with the remainder of his possessions.