The Rossem Project is close to success, and will allow a hand picked expedition to explore other worlds, searching for the threat that faces the planet Tharia, but as they begin their mission they discover that there are many other threats out there...
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
They were taken to a guardhouse not far from the gates and shown into what looked like an interview room. Not the cells, thought Thomas, encouraged. They're not treating us as prisoners. Not yet, anyway.
They were left there while one of the guards went off, probably to inform his superiors, leaving just the other man to look after them. Thomas made some more efforts to communicate with him, just for show, although he was reserving his main efforts for the officer he was confident was on his way. The guard listened intently for a while as the wizard spoke slowly and carefully, emphasising every syllable and waving his arms around, but then he grew bored and left the room.
"Now what?" asked Matthew nervously.
"Now we wait," said Thomas confidently.
They passed the time by looking out through the single barred window, watching the citizens passing by in the streets outside. If it hadn't been for the crumbling skyscrapers reaching up outside the city wall, and the fact that there were no small buildings in the city, everything being made from the lower three or four storeys of former skyscrapers, they might have been in any city in Tharia. Merchants had set up their stalls in the middle of what must once have been one of the ancient city's major roads, an open space fifty yards wide that ran right through the new city, cutting it in two. The cries of businessmen shouting the virtues of their wares rose above the noise of the crowd, while customers dressed in bright fabrics browsed among them, picking up various items and scrutinising them carefully before replacing them and moving on.
They saw guardsmen here and there, casting suspicious eyes across the crowd, and a group of children was running to and fro like a flock of birds, shouting and laughing as they went. In another direction they saw a residential street in which dumpy, red faced women were gathered in small groups, gossiping animatedly, and a corner of one of the huge buildings of which the city was composed could only be a tavern, if the small group of young men hanging around outside with drinks in their hands was any indication. In the hubbub, it wasn't possible to hear any individual voice and it was easy to imagine that they were all speaking Tharian common. Thomas felt that he could have sauntered down the street to that tavern, ordered a drink and been served as if he were back home in Belthar.
They heard a door opening and closing elsewhere in the building and turned just in time to see the expected officer entering, along with another couple of guards who took up station just inside the entrance. Thomas went straight over to him and began speaking quick and loud in Tharian, but the officer waved him back and produced a pencil and a sheet of paper. Giving silent thanks to the Gods, Thomas took them and began to draw.
First he drew a tall masted ship. He tapped his chest, pointed to the others to take them all in and tapped the ship with the pencil, praying that these people had similar ships and that there was an ocean nearby.
The officer nodded impatiently, and the wizard breathed a sigh of relief. He drew another ship, therefore, this one foundering in a storm, with mountainous waves and bolts of lightning flashing all around. Then he drew a stretch of open water with five people bobbing in it, their arms waving in the air.
The officer nodded his understanding and asked a question in his own language. "Tharia," replied Thomas, guessing what he was being asked. "We come from Tharia." The officer merely looked blank, though, and turned away to speak to one of the guards.
"We're making progress," the wizard said to the others. "He's accepting our story so far..."
The officer was turning back, though, having been joined by the guard he'd spoken to, and now he indicated the soldiers' swords, holding his hands out expectantly as he regarded them with hard, suspicious eyes.
"Better give them to him," suggested Thomas. "They won't be much use to you anyway if trouble breaks out. You can't fight an entire city."
Matthew looked deeply troubled for a moment, but then he unbuckled his sword and handed it across. Drenn gave Thomas a look of deeply held reservations as he unbuckled both his swords and removed the leather vest containing all his throwing knives. "I am placing my trust in you," he told the wizard. "I pray to Samnos that it is justified."
Me too, thought the wizard. They were committed now. They wouldn't last long outside the city without their weapons. They were gambling everything on gaining the trust of these people.
The gesture seemed to satisfy the officer, however, and he looked a lot happier as the guard went off with them. He spoke some more words to them before also leaving the room, leaving the Tharians with one guard to look after them once again.
"Well, we're not locked up yet," said the wizard. "That's a hopeful sign."
"But if the soldiers chasing us arrive here now, and if they recognise us..." said Roj Villa.
"We can still teleport out," pointed out Thomas.
"But without our weapons," said Drenn. "I am trained in unarmed combat, as are all priests of Samnos, but I would still not like to face another band of outlaws without a sword in my hand."
His steely grey eyes narrowed as they fixed on the wizard, who found himself unable to meet his gaze. He's got a right to be unhappy, he thought. He's put his trust in me. Please Gods don't let it be misplaced.
They waited in an uncomfortable silence, listening to the bustling sounds of the city. They listened for the sound of someone coming in their direction, someone who would take charge of them, but it was nearly an hour before they came. The soldiers, who'd been sitting on the edge of the table, leapt back to their feet and faced the door, just in time for it to open to reveal an official of the city, if his ceremonial dress was any clue.
His jacket and coat were lavishly covered with shining buttons and gold braid and he wore a triangular hat which bore a gold band around its drooping rim. He was large bellied and pudgy faced, well used to rich living, but his eyes had a wary, suspicious look in them as if he suspected the very worst of the strangers and was just waiting for the inevitable confirmation. He was accompanied by four guards whose uniforms differed from those they'd seen so far, suggesting that they were a special branch of the militia. Perhaps the bodyguards of the city's leaders.
The Tharians tensed up, fearing they were about to be taken into custody and locked up, and the soldiers' hands crept unconsciously to their empty scabbards, but the guards hung well back while the official entered alone, and when he spoke it was clear from the tone of his voice that he was apologising for something, perhaps for having kept them so long. The suspicious look remained in his eyes, but Thomas wasn't worried about that. In fact he was almost collapsing in relief. Of course he was suspicious, and he knew that foreigners speaking a strange language suddenly turning up in Ilandia or Haven would be treated exactly the same way.
It seemed they were to be treated as foreign dignitaries, honoured guests, at least until their hosts could determine whether the country they came from represented a threat to them. No doubt they would be pumped for information about their homeland, and Thomas was happy to tell them everything they wanted to know about Belthar. Everything except the fact that it was to be found on another planet. Let them think that Belthar was just across the horizon, on the other side of a comparatively narrow sea. They wouldn't actually say so, they wouldn't lie to them. They would just let them assume it. That way, they could always claim it was just a misunderstanding if they found out the truth later.
The official, Thomas was already thinking of him as the Mayor, finished his speech, and the Tharians glanced at each other, silently consulting each other on who would reply. They all ended up staring at Thomas, and Matthew gave him an apologetic shrug as if to say you've been doing fine so far. Might as well carry on.
The wizard sighed and picked up the sheet of paper again, showing it to the Mayor and pointing to the picture he'd drawn of the tall masted ship foundering in the storm...
