Ben Bova - Exiles 3 - End of exile.pdf

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Ben Bova - Exiles 03 End of Exile.htm
Ben Bova - Exiles 03 End of Exile.htm
To Regina, with love and hope for a better tomorrow.
Book One
1
The glass was cold.
Linc rubbed at it with the heel of his hand and felt the coldness of death sucking at his skin. His whole body trembled. It
was chill here in the darkness outside the Ghost Place, but it wasn't the cold that made him shake.
Still he had to decide. Peta's life hung in the balance. And before he could decide, Linc had to know.
Wiping his freezing hand against the thin leg of his ragged coverall, Linc peered through the misty glass into the Ghost
Place.
They were there, just as they'd always been.
More of them than Linc could count. More than the fingers of both hands. Ghosts.
They looked almost like real men and women. But of course no one that old still lived in the Wheel. The adults were all
dead—all except Jerlet, who lived far up above the Wheel.
The ghosts were frozen in place, just as they had always been. Most of them were seated at the strange machines that
stretched along one long wall of the place. Some of them were on the floor; one was kneeling with its back against the
other wall, eyes closed as if in meditation. Most of them had their backs to Linc, but the few faces he could see were
twisted in agony and terror. He shuddered as he thought of the first time he had seen them, when he had been barely big
enough to scramble atop an old dead servomech's shoulder and peek through the mist-shrouded window at the horrifying
sight beyond.
It doesn't scare me now, Linc told himself.
But still he could feel cold sweat trickling down his thin ribs; the smell of fear was real and pungent.
The ghosts stayed at their posts, staring blankly at the long curving wall full of .strange machines. The strange buttons and
lights; the wall screens above them were just as blank as' the ghosts' eyes—most of them. Linc's heart leaped inside him as
he saw a few of the screens still flickering, showing strange shadowy pictures that changed constantly.
Some of the machines still work! he realized.
The ghosts had been people once. Real people, just like Magda or Jerlet or any of the others. But they never moved, never
breathed, never relaxed from their agonized frozen stares at the dead and dying machines.
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They were real people once. And someday... someday I'll become a ghost. Like them. Frozen. Dead.
But some of the ancient machines were still working; some of the wall screens still lived. Does that mean that the
machines are meant to keep on working? Does it mean that I should try to fix the machine that Peta broke?
His whole body was shaking badly now. It was cold here in the darkness. Linc had to get back to the living section, where
there was light and warmth and people. Living people. Maybe it was true that the ghosts walked through the Wheel's
passageways when everyone was asleep. Maybe all the frightening stories that Magda told were true.
It was a long and painful trek back to the living area. Many passageways were blocked off, sealed by heavy metal hatches.
Other long sections were too dangerous for a lone traveler. Rats prowled there hungrily.
Linc had to take a tube-tunnel up to the next level, where he felt so much lighter that he could almost glide like one of the
bright-colored birds down in the farming section of the Living Wheel. He stretched his legs and covered more paces in one
leap than he had fingers on a hand.
Here in the second level it was fun. The corridors were empty and dark. The doors along them closed tight. There were
strange markings on each door; Linc couldn't understand them, but Jerlet had promised long ago to someday show him
what they meant.
He was alone and free here, soaring down the corridor, letting his muscles lift his suddenly lightened body for long jumps
down the shadowy passageway. He forgot the ghosts, forgot Peta's trouble, forgot even Jerlet and Magda. There was
nothing in his mind except the thrill of almost-flying, and the words of an ancient song. His voice had deepened not long
ago, and no longer cracked and squeaked when he tried to sing. He was happily impressed with it as he heard it echoing off
the bare corridor walls:
"Weeruffa seethu wizzer Swunnerfool wizzeruv oz___"
Then he sailed past a big observation window and skidded to a stop, nearly falling as he braked his momentum, and turned
to look through the broad expanse of plastiglass.
The stars were circling slowly outside, quiet and solemn and unblinking. So many stars! More stars than there were people
down in the Living Wheel. More than the birds and insects and pigs and all the other animals down in the farms. More
even than the rats. So many.
Was he right about Jerlet's teachings? It seemed to Linc that some of Jerlet's words meant that the Living Wheel—and all
the other wheels up at the higher levels—were actually part of a huge machine that was whirling around and carrying them
from one star to another. Linc shook his head. Jerlet's words were hard to figure out; and besides, that was Magda's job, not
his.
Then the yellow star swung into view. It was brighter than all the rest, so bright that it hurt Linc's eyes to look at it. He
squinted and turned his face away, but still saw the brilliant spot of yellow before his eyes, wherever he looked.
After a few moments it faded away. And Linc's blood froze in his veins.
For he saw stretched across the scuffed, worn floor plates of the passageway a vague dark shadow stretching out, reaching
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up the far wall across the passageway from the window.
His own shadow, Linc realized quickly. But that brought no relief from fear. For the light casting the shadow came from
the yellow star.
It really is getting closer to us, Linc told himself. The old legends are true!
Keeping his back to the window and the yellow star, staring at his slowly shifting shadow, Linc felt panic clutching at him.
The yellow star is coming to get us. It's going to make ghosts of us all!
2
Linc had no idea how long he stayed, nearly paralyzed with fear, at the observation window. His shadow crept across the
floor and up the far wall of the passageway, faded into darkness, then reappeared again. And again, And again.
Finally he pulled himself away, muttering, "If I tell the others about this, they'll go crazy. But Magda... I've got to tell
Magda."
His voice sounded odd, even to himself. Shaky, high, and unsure. "I wish Jerlet was still with us."
He stalked down the passageway purposefully, no more playful lightweighted leaps. Into the next open hatch he ducked,
then stopped at the platform that opened onto the longspiraling metal stairs of the tube-tunnel. Jerlet was upward, in the far
domain where legends said there was no weight at all and everything floated in midair. Downward were the others, his own
people, in the Living Wheel, where there was warmth and food and life.
And fear.
"Jerlet. I've got to find Jerlet," Linc told himself sternly, even though he had no idea of how far the journey would be, or
how difficult.
Linc placed his slippered foot on the first cold metal step leading upward. But he heard a scuffling sound—faint as a
breath, but enough to make him freeze in his steps.
Again. A faint rustling sound in the darkness. Something soft padding on the metal steps in the shadows below.
Rats? Linc wondered.
There hadn't been any rats in this tube-tunnel fora long time.
although it had taken the death of four of Linc's friends to clear the tunnel of them. The little monsters fought fiercely when
they couldn't run or hide.
Linc gripped the hilt of his only weapon, a slim blade that had once been a screwdriver. He had ground the working end
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down until it was a sharp dagger. Holding the plastic hilt in a suddenly sweaty palm, Linc peered into the darkness of the
tunnel, looking down the spiraling steps for the glint of red, beady eyes.
If there's too many of them ___
The shadows seemed to bunch up and take shape. A person.
"Petal" Linc shouted; and his voice echoed off the tube's cold metal walls.
The kid jumped as if sparks from a machine had seared him.
"Peta, it's me, Linc. Don't be afraid."
"Linc! Oh, Linc___" Peta scrambled up the steps and
grabbed at Linc's outstretched hand. He was breathless, sweaty, wide-eyed.
"What are you doing up here?" Linc asked. "I thought you were waiting for Magda to...."
"I've got to get away! Monel and his guards... they're after me!"
Linc thought of Peta as just a kid, although all the people in the Living Wheel were exactly the same age, of course. But
Peta was small, his skin pink and soft, his hair as yellow as the star that was coming toward them. He looked more like a
child than a young man. Linc, whose face was bony and dark with the beginnings of a beard, towered over him.
Linc held the slim youth by both shoulders. "Listen. You're supposed to be waiting for judgement by Magda. You can't run
away."
Peta's hands were fluttering wildly. "But Monel and his guards... he said I'd broken the pump on purpose. He said they
were going to cast me into outer darkness!"
"He can't do that___"
"But Magda can. He said Magda told him that's what she was going to judge."
Linc shook his head. "No, Magda wouldn't make up her mind before hearing your side of it."
Peta glanced back over his shoulder. "I was hungry. And tired. I'd been working in the tanks for a long time... everybody
else had a chance to eat, but Slav said I couldn't stop until I finished weeding my whole tank."
"Slav knows what's right," Linc said. "He's fair."
Even in the shadowy light of the tube-tunnel, Linc could see Peta's normally pink face had gone completely white with
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fright. "I know... but I stuffed the weeds I had pulled into the water trough."
"Oh no___" Linc could feel the back of his neck tensing.
"And they clogged the pump... ?"
Peta nodded dumbly.
"And that's why the pump broke, and now half the farm tanks can't get water," Linc finished. "Half our food supply is
ruined."
Peta's voice was a miserable whine. "Monel came to my compartment with his guards. They took me out... said they were
taking me to the deadlock to... to cast me out."
"He can't do that!"
"I ran away from them," Peta babbled on. "I grabbed the stick that Monel carries and hit the guard that was holding my arm
and ran away."
"You what?"
"I... hit... the guard." It was a tortured whisper.
"You hit him? You really struck him?" Linc sank down onto the metal step and let his head droop into his hands. Peta
stood fidgeting in front of him, his mouth opening but nothing coming out except a barely audible squeak.
Looking up at him again, Linc asked, "How could you do it? If you had deliberately tried to break every rule Jerlet's given
us you couldn't have done worse."
"They were going to push me into the deadlock," Peta cried.
Linc shook his head.
"Help me!"
"Help you?" Linc spread his hands helplessly. "How? Half the people will starve because you were lazy. Maybe I can fix
the pump, but you know Jerlet's laws about touching the machines. And you hit a guard. Violence! All the tales about the
wars and the killings... didn't they mean anything to you?"
"They were going to cast me out!"
"Not even Monel would do that without Magda's judgement," Linc snapped. "I'm no friend of his, Jerlet knows. There's
a lot about him I can't stand. But he'd never hurt you with anything except his tongue. He and his guards were playing with
you, and you were stupid enough to believe they meant what they were saying. Only Magda can give punishment, you
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