Marek Huberath - Nest of Worlds

“Fumaroles,” said Saalstein. “We’re getting volcanic activity with all the trimmings. I’ve seen this only in a textbook. Volcanoes are in Ayrrah, nowhere else, in the north there and the southernmost tip.”

They walked on in silence.

“Tomorrow Thompson will come here with tanks. My guess is he’ll get the idea tonight. He won’t sleep, wondering if he’s done everything he can.”

“How do we pass the cordon that surrounds this region?”

“The quake was powerful. If houses in the city were affected, there may be no cordon.”

“And if there is?”

“We let ourselves be caught. They’ll do nothing to you—learning from experience. And they have no quarrel with me.”

At last they reached the first houses. There was no cordon. They went down a dark street, walking on broken glass. Under the star-filled sky they saw that many of the buildings here had suffered considerable damage. There were no lights on in any of the windows. Occasionally an abandoned car. Saalstein tried to start one, then another.

They found keys in the ignition of a station wagon, and the engine started. They got in. Saalstein steered with his good hand; Gavein shifted. They drove slowly, uncertainly. Saalstein decided to risk turning on the lights. The city seemed deserted. They took an avenue in order not to move away from the coast. It was impossible to read the number of the avenue in the dark.

After an hour of driving, they came to streets that were lit. Gavein breathed a sigh of relief. All of Davabel had not been destroyed in some cataclysm; everyone had not been killed.

Now and then they passed another car. Now and then they saw a pedestrian on the sidewalk. Saalstein turned right, to the north. There was no sign here that the southeast part of Davabel had experienced a quake.

They pulled into a gas station. Saalstein took out a bill.

“Fill her up,” he said to the attendant, not getting out. That his arm was in a sling and that he was in uniform could appear suspicious. Gavein, as befitted Death, sat in a shadow.

The man came back for the money. “You feel the shaking too?” he asked. “My alarm clock fell off the dresser.”

“We had a bit more than that,” muttered Saalstein. “I thought my stomach would come out of my mouth.”

The man sniggered. “They took care of that Death guy today. Bombed the shit out of the whole area. A mouse couldn’t have lived through it. It was on television.”

“We heard the copters.”

“Either the volcano got him or our boys did. We’ll have peace now.” He looked into the car. “Hey, your arm’s hurt. You should get help.”

Saalstein gave the man the bill. “I can manage,” he said. “I can move it.”

“You’re wearing the DS uniform… You’re not that Death guy, are you?” The man’s eyes narrowed, and the smile died on his lips.

“Death’s skeleton, don’t you know, jumped out of his pants, and off he ran with his chattering skull,” Saalstein said, repeating the nursery rhyme.

“Yeah, and that skeleton went flying in every direction when our boys bombed.” The man laughed and gave Saalstein his change.

They drove off.

“You think he bought that?” asked Saalstein.

“I think he’s calling the police right now,” said Gavein.

Saalstein nodded. “I think so too. Any ideas?”

“I have a complete froze.”

“What?”

“Turn off and drive for a couple of intersections, then go parallel to this avenue as fast as you can.”

“That’s not brilliant.”

“I agree. So let’s do it. And take off that sling. Your arm won’t fall off. Why have everyone look at it?”

Saalstein stepped on the gas. They drove all night, and no one stopped them. Apparently the man at the gas station decided not to call the police, or possibly he had met other people fleeing from the DS.

The next morning they reached Central Davabel. It was as deserted as the area around the DS. There was no cordon here either.

Maybe it’s not needed anymore, Gavein thought with a shiver.

They went up to 5700 Avenue. Saalstein stopped the car at the intersection.

“You can get out here, Throzz,” he said. “This is close enough. You have no more than fifty cross streets and can walk that in a day. I’m going home. Screw this. I’m not taking you all the way. You may have visitors there I don’t want to meet.”

“That’s fine. You’ve done a lot for me already.”

“One last favor.”

“What?”

“You saved my life. Don’t now bump me off in your usual fashion, okay?”

“If I had any say in the matter, I wouldn’t be bumping anyone off… you included. You understand?” Gavein said, shaking Saalstein’s good hand.

“I understand. That is, I don’t but I’d like to. In any case, may your Ra Mahleiné be well.”

“How do you know her Lavath name?”

“From the phone tapes.”

Saalstein gave Gavein a salute and shut the door.

Just then, Gavein saw them out of the corner of his eye and dove into an open doorway. He was quick enough that they didn’t see him. The patrol rounded the corner, about eight guardsmen, in helmets and flak jackets and carrying automatic rifles.

“Hold on there!” the leader called to Saalstein. “Not so fast. Out of the car.”

The soldiers took aim at the station wagon, and two of them had grenades. They could easily demolish the vehicle.

Saalstein got out. Gavein stayed crouched in the doorway, not moving, watching the scene through the half-open door.

“Hands,” said one of them, waving the barrel of his rifle.

Saalstein raised his hands, unevenly, awkwardly: the arm in a sling went no higher than his shoulders.

“Search him,” said the leader softly. This was a man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be obeyed.

“Wait, I’m Dr. Yullius Saalstein from the Division of Science.”

“Easy. Don’t move.” The soldier prodded Saalstein in the back with his rifle.

Another soldier unzipped Saalstein’s suit and took out a handful of banknotes. “Sergeant, he’s as stuffed as a holiday duck,” he said, showing the money to the leader.

“Remove the stuffing, Brown,” said the sergeant. “Kratz, provide a pot.”

The soldier began taking the money from Saalstein’s suit. He put an arm in up to the elbow and extracted more bills. The other soldier held out his helmet, and the bills were placed in that.

“There’s a hump in back too,” said the soldier who was aiming at Saalstein’s back.

“We’ll take care of the hump,” said Brown, reaching.

“I am Dr. Yullius Saalstein of the Division of Science, Yullius Saalstein, Head of Biology at the DS,” Saalstein said. “I demand that you notify General Thompson immediately.”

“Ho, he demands,” said the sergeant with a smile.

Brown removed the money fistful by fistful. Kratz pressed it down in the helmet, to make it fit.

Finally Brown stopped. “Enough. I’m not digging up his ass for it.”

“All right. Brown, step aside,” said the sergeant slowly.

“What are you going to do?” Saalstein’s voice was shrill. “You must notify General Thompson! You’ll regret it if you don’t! Thomp won’t forgive you!”

“This is a common thief,” said the sergeant, “who just robbed a store. Don’t you think, Bobrov?”

“Yes, sir,” said the one who had been aiming at Saalstein’s back. “We saw him cleaning out the cash register.”

“Breaking and entering,” said another, not interested. “He broke the window with the butt of his rifle. That window back there.”

“Look, don’t be stupid. I’m not, I won’t…” Saalstein suddenly turned and ran.