Shadowland

Chapter 03 - Journey - Part 10

A small machine, wheeled and with a capacious compartment on top, soon arrived bearing a bundle of packages which contained a bland but filling paste which Master Dunnistan ate with relish, and bottles full of pure water. After eating, his exhaustion overcame him and he quickly fell asleep on the floor among the crates.

The next day, he again checked the terminal. The mysterious Deckard had left instructions as to how to bring on to the screen the images from the camera orbs scattered through the city, as well as how to find the specific people he was looking for. The first was a white female, with blonde hair cut short at the nape of her neck as with almost all inhabitants of the domed city, and green eyes; she was startlingly tall and with a spare frame with barely an ounce of fat. She spend most of her time in her own tiny cubicle, watching moving images on a terminal much like the one he watched her on and playing with a small weasel which had many mechanical parts, in between shifts working in a factory doing something with small mechanical components that rolled past her on moving belts. The back of her left hand bore the mark of a toothed gear surrounding the letter V, and she seemed desperately unhappy and continually bored. The second of the people Dunnistan was able to find was another white woman, this one with glossy black hair, brown eyes and an upturned nose; she was very short, compact and muscular. Her hand also bore the sign of the gear inscribed with the letters XIV. She led an idle life, with a large luxurious apartment and meals of what looked like real food in contrast to the nutrient paste eaten by most of the people there, and seemed to have no duties at all beyond appearing at pompous, militaristic ceremonies where unseen watchers were exhorted to productivity and fierceness in combat against unnamed foes for the glory and security of City One. She too seemed unhappy, for all of the glamour and luxury of her privileged life. The third was a black man with very dark skin and dark eyes, his head shaved and with gleaming pieces of metal implanted in the temples, a muscular and well-proportioned man who was clearly one of the myrmidon guards who controlled and regulated the citizens of the vicious society that inhabited City One. He wore a black uniform and carried a gun strapped to his side at all times, and his hand also bore the sign of the gear and the characters III. He spent some of his time guarding various locations around the city in full glossy black armour, but more often was seen rooting citizens who had transgressed the rules of the city out of their quarters and subjecting them to the thought probe, a nasty and painful device like a metal helmet sprouting wires which displayed their very thoughts on a screen for the interrogators to view. He also spent considerable time visiting the short, dark-haired woman; they displayed the trappings of a wary but congenial friendship. Neither spent any time with the other woman at all.

Each of them seemed, in their way, loyal to the controllers of City One, the ISC - the Industrial Scientific Corporation. Dunnistan spent many hours watching them, in between raiding the nearby storage facilities for more food and water. Perhaps the tall woman would respond to overtures, but Dunnistan could see no way of telling whether she would immediately call the guards if he approached her, so he hesitated to talk to her. He began to wonder why he was staying here, what he was looking for. He was in terrible danger every moment he remained in City One; perhaps the more prudent course would be to leave, head onwards to new realms, or perhaps back to Rohm to rejoin his friends and tell them what he had learned. But something kept telling him to stay and watch just a little longer.

Eventually, his efforts paid off. The black ISC guard was called into a meeting in which several clearly powerful officials of the city were apparently planning a military campaign. As Dunnistan watched, a map was displayed on a table which was one large screen. Wedges indicating troop movements appeared; the troops would be travelling to the west, it seemed. The map broadened, displaying more territory and the location the city's forces were to march on; and to Dunnistan's shock, the territory shown perfectly matched the environs of Rohm Castle.

Overcoming briefly by surprise, Dunnistan stood stock still for a moment. Then, he acted, running from the room in which he hid, casting Invisibility as he did so. Rohm had to be warned of this threat, at any cost. He barreled through the halls of the city, twisting and turning, trying desperately to take himself in the direction of the westernmost exit; but he got terribly lost, and jostled many people is his haste as he ran. At last he was able to find the gate he was looking for, but just short of the entrance, the time on his Invisibility spell ran out and he appeared in full view of the guards.

The black-clad myrmidons shouted "Halt! Intruder alert!" in unison, and both raised their long, gunmetal black firearms. Desperately, Dunnistan held out a hand and cast a spell that sprayed shards of fire at them, blasting smoking holes in their armour, their corpses falling heavily to the ground. Dunnistan rushed through the opening and through the large hangar beyond. He didn't even give the guards at the opening of the gate to the desert outside a chance to raise their guns; again he stretched out his hand and unleashed a bolt of deadly lightning which jumped first to one guard then the other, sending them both flying through the air. The gate began to slowly close as he ran toward it, great flanges of metal rising from the ground and descending from above. As he reached the gate, he cast another spell which launched him into the air over the lip of the ascending gate, his head just barely clearing the bottom of the descending metal wall.

Once through the gate, he stumbled a bit, settled himself to get his bearings, and performed the words and gestures of one last spell. His legs blurred as he ran through the desert at a pace not even the fastest stallion could match, his stride eating ground at an incredible rate. In the western distance, mountains rose, marching closer at a prodigious clip, until finally he stumbled to a stop at the foothills; City One was what would normally be a good two days' travel behind him. He stumbled and fell to the ground, completely exhausted by his escapades. With the last of his strength, he command Corax, "Go! Fly to Rohm! Find Sir Elric and Father Javier! Tell them that an invasion force is on its way!"

***

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