Klien and Carstairs had discovered something in the mountains, something that the conservative elders didn’t want the Expansion, or the people of Homefall, to know about. They began rounding up everyone associated with Quineau and his sympathisers, and I managed to escape with a few others. We formed the resistance movement with friends and sympathisers of the men and women killed by the Council of Elders. We knew nothing of what Quineau and the others had discovered, just rumours that they’d come upon evidence that the Ancients, once thought to be extinct, actually still existed. We organised expeditions to the interior, trying to trace the route Quineau had taken to the underground caverns, but without a copy of the softscreen to guide the way, we had no luck. The land to the west is hostile and inhospitable—we lost many men and women in the search. For the past decade the elders have waged a ruthless war against us, and we have fought back as best we can, while continuing the search.”
Hupcka looked up and smiled at Mackendrick. “You can have no idea the joy we felt on hearing that people from Earth had landed on Homefall.” He gestured. “We are devastated that Klien achieved his aim of killing Quineau. That the softscreen should be lost… what a terrible irony.” He smiled sadly. “Your crash-landing here is the final cruel twist of fate. We had hoped that you might be able to return to Earth, with the receiver, and locate the stolen screen.”
Bennett felt something kick within him, a surge of excitement and at the same time fear. He looked across at Mackendrick.
“Perhaps you had better tell them, Josh,” Mackendrick said.
Hupcka looked up, alert. “Tell us what?”
Beside Bennett, Ten Lee gave a small laugh of delight.
“We didn’t crash-land,” Bennett said. “We told the council that so they wouldn’t go looking for the ship. It’s actually in full working order on the plain three hundred kilometres south of here.”
Hupcka stared, his expression shocked. “So perhaps we can defeat the council at last,” he said. “First, we’ve got to get you to the ship. Miriam, gather six of the fittest men and women. Ready two ground effect vehicles and report back to me in one hour.”
When James jumped up and hurried from the room, Hupcka turned to the other freedom fighters and issued orders in rapid French.
Bennett said to Mackendrick, “Ten’s in no fit state to travel, Mack. And with respect, I wouldn’t put you through another four months of suspension.”
Ten Lee touched his hand. “Can you pilot the ship alone?”
“I’ll just take twice as long with the checks,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to Earth and do my best to trace the softscreen.”
Ten Lee squeezed his fingers. “I want to see the Ancients,” she said, determination in the set of her features.
Bennett looked up suddenly at Mackendrick. “Good God. You knew you were dying… Quineau told you that the Ancients had healing powers.”
Mackendrick gave a sad smile. “I hope you understand why I put you all at so much risk,” he said. “When I first heard Quineau’s story I was intrigued, and then I was diagnosed five years ago, and I knew I had to come here. It’s a long shot, Josh. Perhaps Quineau’s story really
Bennett thought of Ella, and how modern medicine had been unable to heal her, then he cursed himself for trawling up memories and emotions he should have worked through long ago. Hell, for the past day or so he had been so consumed by the rush of incidents that he had hardly had time for self-pity.
He looked ahead, to the void-flight to Earth, the search for the softscreen. Soon he would be consumed again, with little time to consider himself, and the thought was like a balm.
Two hours later he said goodbye to Mackendrick and hugged Ten Lee. “I’ll see you in… Good God, eight months seems like such a long time.”
Ten Lee smiled. “For you it will pass in an instant.”
Bennett strode up the incline towards the overhang where Hans Hupcka, Miriam James and half a dozen others, all armed, waited in two balloon-tyred vehicles. Hupcka passed him a silver oval device the size of a cigar case: the receiver. Briefly he instructed Bennett in its use.
They set off minutes later. Mackendrick and Ten Lee were small figures on the veranda of the A-frame, and Bennett raised his arm in a farewell salute. They headed out of the valley on a different route from the one they’d used to get here, going around the mountain to avoid the long road above the inhabited valley. This track would bring them out on the purple plain well south of the deserted timber settlement and the remains of the sunken starship.
Hupcka sat beside Bennett and steered the bouncing vehicle. “In four hours we’ll be out of the mountains, Josh. Perhaps six hours after that we’ll reach the ship.”
“I only hope the council militia hasn’t found it before us.”
“They had a patrol scout on the plain yesterday,” Hupcka said. “But they only got as far south as the ruins. I know because we have a man in their ranks.”
They had left the valley far behind and were travelling down a boulder-strewn ravine. Ahead, the first crawler bounced like a child’s toy, a comically frail structure rocking this way and that over the uneven terrain.
Tenebrae slipped down behind the mountains as they travelled, and the stars appeared in the strip of sky high above the gorge. The minor sun shone like a distant orange lantern, providing sufficient light to illuminate the track ahead. The balloon tyres of the crawler came into their own, climbing over boulders and across potholes, the suspension creaking in protest. Bennett held on as the vehicle bucketed along, Hupcka laughing into the headwind like a madman.
They passed from the protection of the mountains and descended on to the purple plain, the first crawler racing ahead. Bennett had not slept for what seemed like ages, and as the vehicle rocked back and forth he took the opportunity to doze.
He was awoken, hours later, when the crawler lurched, tossing him between Hupcka’s bulk and the door. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. It was dawn. The bright ellipse of the gas giant’s upper hemisphere spanned the far horizon, casting its opalescent light across the plain. He must have been asleep for almost six hours. They had climbed from the plain and were skirting the foothills to the west, the purple grass spreading like a sea far below.
Hupcka glanced at him. “I didn’t want to worry you unduly, Josh. But a couple of hours ago we discovered we had company. Look.” He passed Bennett a pair of binoculars and pointed. “Halfway across the plain, at about two o’clock.”
Bennett adjusted the focus. At first all he saw was a dancing blur of purple grass. Then he caught a flash of something. He steadied his hand and centred the speeding object. It was a balloon-tyred vehicle like their own, swarming with green-uniformed militia.
“A council patrol,” Hupcka said. “Perhaps they’re taking your crash-landing story with a pinch of salt, checking further afield for the ship.”
“Where’s Miriam’s crawler?”
“When we saw the council militia we decided to take action. The other crawler moved down to the plain to follow at a safe distance. If the militia looks like getting anywhere near the ship, they’ll attack and provide a decoy.”
“And if the militia see us?”
Hupcka nodded. “It’s a possibility. If they move our way, or start firing, then Miriam and the others will move in.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. This is routine stuff. We’ll get you to the ship in one piece.”
Bennett nodded, fear tight within him. He was, he realised, not cut out for the role of a man of action. He liked the mentally anaesthetising effect of living on the edge of his wits, but when things got out of hand—like the fire-fight yesterday, or the possibility of conflict now—he had to admit that he wished he was elsewhere.
But do I wish I was back on Earth, with Julia, he asked himself? It came as a surprise to realise that he would rather be in the thick of the action.
Hupcka glanced at him. “Once we reach the ship, how long will it take you to lift off?”
“Five, ten minutes. No more.”
Hupcka nodded. “Okay.” He lifted a radio microphone and shouted into it in French. A crackling voice replied.
