The Colony Ship Eschaton: The entire ten book series, page 58
“But Rectora, how long do we post guards at that portal room? We have been guarding there all day and all night for quite a while. Does that just go on forever?” Matilda asked from the crowd. She was one of the older of the active legionnaires, and one of the last to still carry a side arm. Levi and Gideon had also lost two of those very rare weapons.
Several others in the crowded room also asked about the guard duty.
“Legionnaires, that guard duty is a strain, I know it,” Lydia stated. “But we never knew people, or things could come from those worlds, I mean habitats, or places....well until the Domers came we did not know things could come here. We only sent the criminals to banishment. And since Deborah’s body was sent here, and since that rolling machine, the automacube, came here, it is best to post a guard.”
Josiah spoke up. “It may not be my place to make a suggestion, but could we not make some kind of lock to seal the portal doors so they do not open unless we allow them to open? I believe I could fashion such a device, if you wanted me to do so.”
There was a loud chorus of agreement.
“Well, that seems like an acceptable plan. Josiah will design a lock to stop anything from coming through the portal doors,” Rectora Lydia stated. “Josiah, how long will this take you?”
“I can probably have something done in the next few days,” Josiah replied.
“So it is settled for now,” Rectora Lydia stated.
The legionnaires departed from the supply cabin. Tobias stayed as it was his turn to be on duty. As Levi and Gideon departed they discussed all that had happened. When they were well away from the others they spoke in low voices.
“We must get to that Tropical place before Josiah seals those doors,” Levi said. “We owe Deborah that much.”
“I agree. Where you go, I will go. And with the new armor, maybe we can get some answers. But we must go as quickly as possible. Josiah said he would only need a few days.”
9 You can run but others are faster
Tamar had never run so quickly in her entire life. Her heart was pounding fast and strong when she heard the summoning whistle blown by the predicator. But hearing Shammai’s yelling drove her to new feats of energy. And so she hurried up the trail away from Media.
Eventually she could sprint no more. She slowed her pace as her breath was coming hard and raspy. Her side ached. The straps on the travel bag had rubbed her shoulder raw, and it was now nighttime. The sky tube was a bit dimmer than last night, which had been moon-night. So she could still make out some of the ground in the silvery glow from the dimmed sky tube. Tamar pondered the sky tube. To all the other people in Media the sky tube simply was the sky tube. No one talked much about it. In the mornings it illuminated the world, at night it did not. That was what each of them thought, if they thought of the sky tube at all. But to Tamar’s mind it seemed like more. ‘What makes it all work?’ she asked herself, trying to divert her mind from thoughts of those who she knew were pursuing her.
Thinking about how things worked had always been a nice distraction for Tamar. From her oldest memories she recalled looking at things in the world, and seeking to know how they worked. When she received beatings, she used her mind to escape. When she did drudgery work, she pondered machines. So now, as she fled from the Clan of Tobit, her mind sought distraction. ‘How does this work?’ Her mind had always asked questions, but her parents had taught her that verbalizing those questions was not a good idea. Her brother could ask a few more questions, but his mind was dull and simple as were the minds of her parents. They accepted what was, and they obeyed the elders. Perhaps their lives were easier that way, but Tamar just did not accept it. Life was filled with mysteries and she hunted for answers everywhere.
As she slowed to a walk, she watched part of the world she had never seen before. Sure she had snuck out and wandered in Media at night, but never too far from the few streets and cabins of that town. She knew much about the night time in Media, but now that she was away, she was seeing new things. It would all be wondrous if not for those seeking to find her.
The trail led away from Media and through a lightly forested area. The trees were just deep shadows and blackness. There was just enough light to see the curving path as it wound ahead. As she walked she heard the night sounds: the buzzes of insects, the call of night birds, the occasional rustling in the grasses of some animal as it ran off. All these fascinated Tamar, but not nearly as much as mechanical things. Machines were where her mind kept returning. She thought of the machine that the predicators had murdered. It had been working to stack and sort the burned parts of the wooden building. Yet the predicators called it evil and a hell spawn? How could a machine that was helping be considered evil?
The machine had been beautiful. It had had precision wheels which turned in just the right ways to propel it along. Its arm was a thing of elegance as it turned and swiveled on it joints. She remembered the hum she felt under her hands as it had come to life. And it gave off light like the sky tube. How could such a thing be wicked? Especially when it responded to her so affectionately.
Her musings were interrupted as she heard voices and footsteps. The footsteps were pounding on the trail and headed her way. She slipped into the grasses next to the trail and lay down just as two figures appeared from behind her.
“If we are the ones to catch her, there will be a great reward!” said the first voice, a young man by the name of Brigham. He was the son of the tanner, and probably would grow up in the Guild of Makers as a tanner. Tamar thought little of him, but he was tall and strong.
“After what she did to my parents, I hope we do catch her. I will just say we found her dead, and that will save the elders the trouble of a trial. And we will still get the reward,” the second voice stated. Tamar sucked in her breath. It was her brother Jebadiah. And he wanted to kill her.
“Your parents should have beaten sense into that girl long ago, everyone knows it,” Brigham replied. They were both panting as they trotted along, but did not seem anywhere close to out of breath or tired.
“Let’s just hope we catch her. Shammai has promised a great reward,” Jebadiah said. “But I would do this even without payment.”
“So when we catch her, I will use her, and then you can finish her off,” Brigham said. “Then we take the body back and claim our reward.”
Tamar lay stunned in the grass in the dark long after the two passed by. She knew what she had done was wrong, but the gleeful tones in their comments scared her more than anything she had ever felt before. ‘How could Jebadiah hate her so?’ She would have felt even more depressed if she had been surprised, but she was not. Her mind had always wondered about the love in her family. Love was obedience, that was what she had been taught.
Brigham and Jebadiah were on the trail. So Tamar knew she must get off the trail and move faster away. She walked into the darkness of the trees and made her way as best she could. Under the trees it was much darker than on the trial, but she did figure out how to walk along. She did think about snakes and other creatures which might be in the grasses under the trees, but she pressed onward.
Sometime in the night she came to a stream. She drank deeply and wanted to sleep, but knew she needed to keep moving. The fear was driving her on as she recalled her brother’s words. She decided to follow the rocky bank of the stream as it flowed. The stream flowed out from the wooded area and into grasslands. She could see better again here, but there was no trail, so she kept following the stream which ran straight and true.
She walked and walked. The sky tube was just beginning to get lighter as she saw some buildings in the distance. 'Have I reached Antioch?’ she asked herself. She was weary and tired, but also wary and frightened. She squatted down in the grass and watched the buildings.
As it got lighter and day dawned, Tamar had seen no people coming or going. There were only about a dozen buildings, so this place was smaller than Media. She studied the buildings. Long wooden beams were laid horizontally and stacked one on the other to make the building’s walls. They were not made from the hard metal like the cabins of Media. Occasionally there was a doorway with a stoutly made door, or window space, with closing shutters. The roofs were made from thatch woven together which overlapped each other. Another stream came from a different direction and met the stream she had been following. There were two small bridges spanning the streams and a large dirt area surrounded by pickets.
But still no people were seen by Tamar. The whole town seemed to be empty. There were not even any birds or animals or sounds. It was still and quiet and mysterious. This was not at all how she had envisioned Antioch. The gossips said that the town of heretics, Antioch, was large and overflowing with heretics and out-worlders. But this place had no people at all. Tamar felt alone in the world.
After watching for some time, the daylight shining down from the sky tube, she decided to investigate closer. So she walked into the town. There was no one anywhere to be seen. She carefully peeked into one building after the others, but all were empty. Finally with exhaustion settling in on her, she picked out a small shed behind one of the buildings. It had some straw stacked in it, and the doors were wide and easy to open. Tamar knew that if she fell asleep in the daylight she could end up with a nasty surprise if someone discovered her. 'But who would look for me in an old shed, behind an empty building, in an abandoned town?’ And so Tamar pulled the doors to the shed closed, took some scrap twine and tied them shut from inside. Tamar fell asleep in the village of Gath.
10 a day mare
Tamar heard people. She was instantly awake. She peered out from the cracks between the doors to the shed. It was still light outside, but she could not tell how long she had been asleep. It felt like only a few moments. Her heart was beating wildly. She could not see who was outside. ‘Are they the heretics who live here?’ she asked herself.
Then someone walked past her field of vision. It was one of the predicators! Her breath was stilled in her chest. 'They have found me!’ her mind screamed. She watched as the predicator walked away. She carefully untied the twine holding the doors shut. Watching her every movement, she slowly opened the door a bit more. She could see more now, and there was not anyone else in sight. So she stepped out of the shed, and quickly squatted down next to the building. She left the travel bag in the shed. The grass was overgrown. The air was still. Tamar listened.
Faint words came to her, but she could not make them out. She duck-walked along the side of the building to the corner. Peering around the corner she saw the predicator and another man from Media. Tamar could not see his face, but he seemed vaguely familiar.
“Yes, I know. Shammai did refuse to come into Gath. I do not like being here either. Too many ghosts since the legionnaires cleansed this pile of dung. I do not know which is worse, the bandits or those heretics from Antioch,” said the man. His back was still to Tamar.
“The best possible world would be if the bandits and the heretics killed each other off,” the predicator said. Both men laughed.
Tamar stepped carefully away. She could see the stream leading away, and she knew she again must escape. ‘This was Gath?’ she wondered. She had thought it was Antioch, but it was a village called Gath. She had not heard of it, not even in the gossips of Media. Her heart slowed down a bit as she made her way back toward the shed. She would try to get away as fast as possible. As she turned, she suddenly stopped.
“There she is!” Jebadiah yelled. He had been on the other side of the building and was walking around it. “She is here!” He ran toward her.
Tamar bolted away as fast as she could. She ran for the stream with all her might. Sweat was almost instantly running down her back, be it from exertion or from terror she did not know. She had only one thought, escape.
Jebadiah followed after her. He was yelling her name.
“Go get Shammai!” the man told the predicator. “I will help catch her and hold her until he comes!” Then the man chased her as well.
When Tamar heard that Shammai was near it caused her to run even faster. She reached the small bridge over the stream and leaped onto it and was across quickly. She then headed along the bank of the stream running for her very life. Jebadiah and the man chased her. They crossed the bridge.
“Tamar stop! You know I can run you down,” Jebadiah yelled. His words were closer now.
Tamar continued to run, but she was growing so tired. She was so very tired.
“I can outrun you! Just stop now! Women must know their place!” Jebadiah yelled.
Tamar continued to run. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her eyes were squinted from the salty sweat running in them. Her legs were aching.
Smack!
Tamar was struck from behind by a stone. Her balance was lost, and she fell face first into the stream. As she fell she turned and saw Jebadiah was right behind her. Some ways off, the man was rolling up his sling after having used it to fling the stone which had struck her.
The water was wet and cold as she tumbled into it. She did not know how to swim. She flailed her arms about her head. She tried to regain her footing, but the mud of the stream, and the injury to her back made that impossible.
Jebadiah grabbed her roughly by one leg and pulled her out of the water. He was much stronger than she thought. He threw her to the ground and kicked her in the stomach. The air in her lungs was thrust from her as she let out a terrible moan. She tried to grab her stomach and cover it from another kick, but someone grabbed her wrists and held them up. Jebadiah kicked her again.
The hands squeezing down on her wrists tightened their grips, and in her left arm she felt something snap. The finger of that hand became numb and twisted in a wrong way. But the pain from the fractured wrist was overshadowed by the pain from yet another kick from Jebadiah.
Tamar cried from the pain. She then was slapped in the face several times. Opening her eyes, she looked out and saw, her father looking back at her. He was the one holding her wrists.
“Father? But why?” Tamar asked through the tears.
“I took a whipping because of you!” her father Jephthah replied and backhanded her.
“How did you get here?” Tamar asked. She recalled seeing her father lying with the whip injuries and doubted he could make such a run.
“It is my place to return you to your husband!” Jephthah said in a cruel and wicked way. He then seemed to disappear in a wisp of air.
“Father?” Tamar wondered what was happening.
Shammai walked down to the edge of the stream where Tamar was. He had a wide smile which contained no warmth or joy at all. In his hands was a bone knife and he held it pointed at her chest. “Remove those men’s clothes!” Shammai commanded. “My wife and I have business to conclude.”
“Halt!” A female voice cried from across the stream. “Touch her again and you will die!"
Tamar could barely see, but across the stream was a woman in strange clothing. The clothing was unlike anything Tamar had ever seen before. It was all one grayish or greenish color, and seemed to be one piece. The woman had short red hair and a face covered in freckles. Her mouth was drawn tight. Her eyes were intense. In her hand was some object. It was a machine! Just behind the woman was a muscular man, dressed in the same bizarre clothing. She had never seen such people. The woman’s speech was as odd as her clothing, and she did not have her head covered. And she was giving a command to men! Who was this strange woman? Tamar was drawn to her as she sensed that the redheaded woman in odd clothing was a friend, a protector, a helper.
“Not this time, you spawn of devils! Not this time!” Shammai yelled as he plunged the knife into Tamar’s chest. Tamar’s eyes rolled back in agony, a scream bubbling through blood as it gushed from her throat. She felt the blade tear her, and then tear her again. Fading into blackness, Tamar’s only wish was to see the strange woman again.
11 a day dream
Tamar was instantly awake. She clutched at her chest. There was no injury. There was no blood. The old clothing she wore, stolen from Shammai, was not cut or ripped. She peered out from the cracks between the doors to the shed. It was still light outside, but she could not tell how long she had been asleep. It felt like only a few moments. Her heart was beating wildly. She could not see who was outside, if anyone. ‘Is Shammai here?’ she asked herself.
Her hands were still feeling about her chest. 'Have they found me?’ her mind screamed. She carefully untied the twine holding the doors shut. Cautious of her every movement, she slowly opened the door a bit wider. She could see more now and there was not anyone in sight anywhere. So she stepped out of the shed, and quickly squatted down next to the building. She pulled the travel bag from the shed and slung it across her shoulders. The grass was overgrown. The air was still. Tamar listened. Tamar looked.
There was no one around anywhere. She got up and walked stealthily around the buildings, but no one was anywhere to be seen. She was more than a bit confused. She had felt the blade enter her chest. She had felt the bones in her wrist break. Yet her chest and her wrist were not injured in any way.
