Nowhere Land
When I woke next, light filled the cabin. I blinked, squinted, and looked out the window. We were over land, and I could not see the ocean. The land below us nourished wild and untamed purple forests and lavender prairies. Occasionally, I could make out the patterns of planted crops and small dirt roads or the scattered houses of a village, but no large cities, no factories, no dams, no electric wires as if the plane had been not only covering a great distance but also traveling backward in time.
The plane descended and lost speed. The engines throttled back. We landed roughly; the plane bounced and shook and swerved, but at last it came to a stop and the engines cut off. Our guard came, unstrapped us, and commanded, “[Get up. Everybody’s getting off here.]”
We staggered up, our stance wobbly because we had been sitting for so long, and stumbled down the exit ladder. We swayed in a muddy, grassy violet field (no wonder the landing had been so jarring) under a heavy gray sky. Another large plane with Radimeer markings sat in the field. We were prodded to march forward, so we trudged away from the plane, resentment toward our captors growing.
Before us loomed a square gray fortress made of rock and mortar; its walls rose twenty feet above the earth and were topped with a parapet and watchtowers at each corner. As we neared the broad gateway, its heavy wooden door creaked open.
Guards in steel armor and carrying pikes came out and stood on either side of the gate as we passed through into the interior, a dirt floor square surrounded by wooden barracks and stables and workshops where smiths pounded and fires glowed. The sound of cold iron striking hot steel rang. We shuffled through that dusty center to the back where a tall, round gray stone tower rose forbiddingly over the smaller buildings.
A guard opened the door to the tower, and we descended stone stairs into a dungeon keep and were locked inside a cell with one small door and only one small window ten feet above us. In the center of the cell was a relief hole large enough for an adult to squat over. Around the walls were four pallets of woven fupil reeds stuffed with dry grasses.
Our one consolation was that at last we had an opportunity to talk to one another. After we had removed one another’s bindings, I said, “Can anyone tell me what is going on?”
King Golmon, deep into his despair, moaned, “It is my boys. They have betrayed me, and made you victims of the betrayal.”
“Where are we?”
Mawgri, in an amazingly composed voice under the circumstances, said, “Somewhere on the continent of Myunk. My guess is that we are guests of one of Radimeer’s allies.”
Luvark said, “Forgive me for not protecting you better.”
“Don’t worry, Luvark. We had no way of knowing what the situation in Zeveno was. If you had acted to defend us, you would be dead and we might have been, too. I’d rather have you alive by my side.”
“Thank you.”
“King Golmon, tell us about your sons. What happened?”
The poor king raised his red-rimmed yellow eyes and said, “One reason that I was so eager to get democracy started was that I knew my sons were not fit to rule. My oldest is a cruel, sadistic narcissist who feels the throne is his due. The middle son is a playboy, spending his time and wealth for pleasure: inebriants, women and parties. The youngest, lazy and stupid, has only one passion: athletics. He loves to ride and shoot and run and gamble on others who compete. A father never had three more self-absorbed children.
“I was too . . . easy. I didn’t demand respect . . . or responsibility. I . . . I have failed . . . as a father.
“When war came, they all joined the officer corps, but found in it others like themselves who wanted to retain the kingdom and cling to the old ways, so their privileges could be maintained. My eldest was the leader of the coup.”
“What will they say happened to you?”
“They will say that I was blown up by a bomb. They hope that taking you prisoner with me will give them leverage with Saca and Kunwyz. You are hostages.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No, but I am sure we are imprisoned by some ally of Radimeer . . . as Mawgri has said . . . somewhere on Myunk.”
“Myunk, the backward continent.”
“The undeveloped world.”
I said, “The guards have primitive weapons. Surely we can figure a way to get out of here.”
Luvark said, “But we have no weapons.”
Mawgri said, “We could probably overpower the guards and take their weapons and try to fight our way out, but I think it’s better to wait a day or two until we know exactly who and what we’re up against. I suggest everyone calm down, observe as much as you can, and think about our options.”
I said, “Did you see the plane from Radimeer? What do you think that means?”
“Somebody has escaped,” said Mawgri, “perhaps the emperor himself.”
King Golmon nodded assent, “Yes, that’s possible. If things became untenable in Radimeer, he could bring his loyal followers here. With modern weapons, they could easily dominate their neighbors. This continent is wide open for a modern army. The only problem is that there is no fuel source for their machines. His army would have to travel by arbez.”
“I wonder who our keeper is. Who is lord of this castle?”
At that moment, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The lock on the door turned and the door was pulled back.
At the doorway stood a tall, thick Putkur with brown and blue scales. He was big, larger than Luvark. He was dressed in a black smur tunic and a serpentine dagger hung from his belt. Behind him were four armored guards with pikes and daggers.
The big one smiled and said, “[Good day, inmates. I just wanted to see you and tell you what is expected of you. I am Garfark, Lord of the Keep; you are my prisoners. You don’t look like much to me. I hear one of you is a deposed king; the old one I guess. I see one is a Saceen; I’ve seen your scales before. One is some kind of half-breed. And the little one is not like anything I have seen before.]” He pointed at me. “[Where are you from?]”
Mawgri said, “It is from another world beyond the stars and is not fluent in Putkeen.”
“[An alien being. Mmmph! I am having some food brought for you. In the room across the hall is a table with bench seats. The guards eat there. When the table is set for you, a guard will open the door, and you will wait for a count of twenty. After that you may cross the hall and eat. You will have wooden bowls, cups and utensils. You will have twenty minutes to eat; then you must return to the cell and close the door. The guards will lock it behind you. If you try to come up the steps, you will be killed. If you take too long to eat, you will be punished. If any of the utensils are missing, you will be punished. Any questions?]”
“Where are we?”
“[What do you mean?]”
“What is this land called?”
“[It has no name. I killed its owners and took it over a year ago. Now it is mine.]”
“How long will we be held prisoner?”
“[That depends on the ransom. If it is sufficient and timely, not long. If it is not forthcoming, not long either. If negotiations drag out, who knows?]” He smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of real pleasure. He was a warlord, master of his small piece of the continent; he ruled by force and fear. Life on this continent was brutish and probably short. He said without any intentional irony, “[Enjoy your meal.]” Then he turned on his heel and left us. The door closed and was locked.
We heard people coming down the stairs and could smell the food that passed by on the other side of the door. Once I smelled the food, I realized I was very hungry. Footsteps came out and went back up the stairs.
Our door opened. Mawgri counted to twenty. Then we rushed across the hall. I glanced up the stairs as we crossed and saw four armed guards with their pikes leveled at us. One, instead of the blue and brown scales common to Luka, had green and red scales. Was he a son of Polimeer?
We wasted no time. Each of us had a bowl of stew— pieces of gwarg in beans with taloos and other vegetables—and a piece of buttered tak bread and a cup of water. We gobbled our meal (it wasn’t seasoned well, but it was filling and nourishing) and wiped the residue in the bowls with our bread and washed down everything with our water. The others belched and sighed.
Right at the end of the meal, we heard other planes coming in and landing. I looked at Mawgri and he looked at me, but we had no time to talk. We hurried back to our cell and closed the door. Seconds later it was locked.
With full bellies, we sat or lay on our pallets. I said, “It’s nice to have a decent meal again.”
Mawgri said, “That we are being fed is a good sign. It means we are indeed being held for ransom, and our jailers want to keep us healthy until the money arrives.”
“Will we be ransomed? Who will they deal with?”
“My guess is Sacacon. He’s got the funds and an interest in our safe return.”
“Will he pay?”
“I’m sure he’s negotiating.”
Cracks of gunfire came from outside; many weapons were being fired.
I said, “Luvark, if you let me stand on your shoulders, I can look out that window.”
“Certainly, Za Malcolm.” Luvark stood below the window and laced his fingers to give me a boost up. I stepped into his hands, he lifted me up and I put one foot on each of his broad shoulders. I grabbed the bars of the window and looked out.
My view began no more than a few feet above ground. Beyond the window was a meadow, and in the meadow was a row of hundreds of armored men (Garfark’s men?) with rifles. They seemed unfamiliar with the weapons, and instructors dressed in the gray uniforms of Radimeer were showing them how to load and shoot. Beyond the meadow, I could see four more four-engine planes. Near the planes, dozens of men dressed in gray were setting up tents and unloading boxes.
“Ok,” I said. “Let me down.”
Luvark grabbed my waist with his hands and, as easy as lifting a child, took me off his shoulders and eased me to earth.
The others looked at me with expectation.
“I saw four long-range planes, brown on top, gray below, with the green egg of Radimeer on their wings. About sixty soldiers in gray uniforms have disembarked and are setting up a camp at the end of the field. Hundreds of Garfark’s men are being instructed in using rifles.”
King Golmon said, “I smell the emperor’s hand in this.”
Mawgri said, “It stinks all right. Look’s like someone wants to set up another empire.”
I said, “Is there any way we could loosen the bars in that window? If so, I could squeeze out and look around.”
Mawgri said, “We have no tools, but . . . Luvark, can you lift me up?”
“Yes, Za Mawgri.” Once again he squatted, and Mawgri climbed up. After a quick look at the troops in the meadow, he grasped the bars and tried moving them.
He jumped down. He said, “Only the middle bar has any play at all.”
“But,” I said, “If you get one bar out, we could use that one bar as a tool on the others.”
“See what a determined being this earthling is. It never gives up. I admire that so much.”
King Goldman said, “That is an admirable quality. In fact, I feel shame that I have considered giving up. Damn my sons! Let us take turns at that bar. We’ll get it loose.”
Seeing King Golmon’s red-and-green imbrications reminded me that one of the guards had scales like his. “King, did you see the guard from Polimeer?”
“Yes, I saw him, the damned traitor.”
“Maybe not. He seems to have been here a while. He is an accepted member of Garfark’s army. It’s possible he’s just a mercenary who happened to be here.”
Golmon raised his eyes and said, “Do you think so? If I get close to him, I will ask.”
However, before we could begin wrestling with the iron bar, we heard footsteps descending the stairs, many feet coming down to our cell. The door was unlocked and pulled open.
Before us stood a white-and-black scaled Putkur in a green bodysuit of smur and a gold toga clasped with a diamond brooch. On his head sat a bejeweled golden crown, the imperial crown of Radimeer. Below the crown, gloating over us, glared two yellow eyes with purple irises. I don’t think I have ever seen a more arrogant, rapacious look. Behind him were soldiers in gray uniforms who were pointing rifles at us. He entered and stood just inside our cell.
“[King Golmon],” he said with feigned cheerfulness, “[how nice to see you again.]”
The king glared back but would not bow.
“[I came to see the great Mawgri Qampoq and his ambassador from another universe. How does it feel to be in a prison, Mawgri, from which there is no escape?]”
Mawgri said, “We haven’t settled in yet, Emperor Kra, so I can’t really say.”
Kra looked at me. “[So this puny creature is the ambassador from another universe. Perhaps you and I could have a conversation?]”
Although I had understood everything that Kra had said, Mawgri said, “It’s not fluent in Putkeen. One of us would have to come with it to interpret.” I knew Mawgri wanted to come, so the two of us might conceive a plan of escape.
Kra smiled slyly and pointed at King Golmon. “[The king shall come with us then.]”
King Golmon walked forward, and I followed him. Kra led us into the guards’ mess. Behind us I heard the cell door being closed and locked.
Kra had us sit on one side of the table as he sat on the other. Their weapons ready, the guards, including the one with green-and-red scales, stood in the hall while the gray-uniformed soldiers positioned themselves around the walls. However, I sensed no fear in Kra. I believe he thought neither the old king nor the alien runt could present much danger to him.
He began by addressing King Golmon. “[King, nothing will be done to harm you. Your sons don’t want you injured or mistreated; they merely want you out of the way. I hope you understand that. When you have come to accept your exile, you will be allowed to roam freely within the walls of the keep and outside in the meadows and forests. Everyone else in Polimeer thinks that you are dead, disintegrated by a bomb blast.]”
King Golmon said nothing. He sat and glared.
“[Or you can sit your life out in the dungeon. It’s all the same to me.]”
Then Kra turned to me. “[Ambassador Malcolm, have you been in touch with your home system?]”
I spoke slowly in poor Putkeen,” [No, communication not possible now, my ship be damaged.]”
“[Where is your ship?]”
“[On the moon of Aasheen.]”
“[Too bad. That makes it quite useless to me.]” He paused, raking me with his eyes, and then said, “[What side does your system take in this conflict? You are its spokesperson.]”
“[It no take sides.]”
“[What kind of system is it? Is it an empire?]”
“[No, it be free federation like Kunwyz.]”
“[Dear me, is that the way the world goes? The dominant beings no longer in ascendance, but all worlds ruled by the rabble mob? A ghastly vision of the future!]”
“[But, Emperor Kra, in advanced societies, all citizens read and write and be what they can be.]”
“[Are there no superior individuals who lead the rest?]”
“[Yes, but they be chose by the people to lead.]”
“[Sounds humiliating. One would have to prance around like a dancing bashi to convince others to choose him to lead them. What lunacy!]”
“[It works . . . most of the time.]”
“[But, in such a system by its very nature, no leader—no matter how prescient or fearless or intelligent or imaginative—could implement his plan without compromising at every turn with some of the rabble.]”
“[That is the beauty of it.]”
“[I could not live in such a world. Cast me on an asteroid and let me die if such were to come to pass on Putkwyz!]”
“Sic semper tyrannis.”
“[What did you say?]” He bent over and pinioned me with his eyes.
“[It is an ancient Earth saying. It means ‘strong leaders are all the same.’]”
“[And so they are . . . although some win and some lose.]”
Then a servant bearing a bowl of nuts and fruit came in and placed the bowl on the table. Another followed with a pitcher of water and some cups; he poured the cups full. Both bowed in unison to Kra and left.
Kra took some of the fruit and a cup of water. He said, “[Take some, gentlemen. If you cooperate with me, your situation could improve considerably.]”
I took some nuts and fruit and drank some water.
“[So, King, will you behave yourself?]”
“What choice do I have?” Golmon said and took some nuts and began chewing as if eating his words.
“[And, Ambassador, will you arrange me an audience with your leader? Perhaps I could visit your world.]”
“[All things are possible once I am freed.]”
“[Good. I think we can live with one another. I wish you good day. Please stay and eat if you wish. Take the water with you.]” Kra rose regally and was followed out by his escort of soldiers.
End of Chapter 16
Malcolm and Mawgri are in a desperate situation. Although they hope for a ransom, they know they must also devise an escape plan. Malcolm has met the deposed Emperor Kra.
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