The navigator (12 page)

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"It's not a toy," he said gently, and Owen felt his face flush.

The air smelled of iron filings, and ash drifted slowly away from the felled tree, even though, as far as Owen could see, it had not burned.

Rutgar sat down beside Owen and explained the principles of the weapon, the way to aim it properly, how to make it safe when carrying it. It was powered by the same magno power as everything else. Rutgar's tone was gentle and serious and it made Owen feel even worse. He remembered the two Raggie boys and their reluctance to even touch a weapon, and the sense of duty with which they had done so.

"Used to be you would take a month to learn what I'm telling you, before you were even allowed to touch this," Rutgar said, standing up to leave. "But we don't have a month. We don't even have days, I think."

Owen and Cati watched Rutgar walk away. "What do we do now?" asked Owen.

"Let's go and see Dr. Diamond," Cati suggested.

In the Skyward, Dr. Diamond lay on his bed, perfectly still, his eyes closed. The sky outside seemed to darken and a gust of wind threw a handful of sleet against the windows. Dr. Diamond's eyes opened and he turned his head sharply toward the big clock. The clock's single hand suddenly leapt into motion, flying round the clock before coming to rest. It began to move backward again,

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but this time its movements were jerky and sharp. Sleet rattled against the window.

"The attack is on us," Dr. Diamond said softly to himself. "Johnston rides on the Workhouse. Can the Harsh be far behind?" He sat up. "The children are coming!" he exclaimed to himself, and raced to the door.

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Owen and Cati were halfway up the Nab when the sky
darkened. They paused uncertainly. They could see little of the riverbank, but they could hear sudden shouts and muffled explosions and terrible screams.

"The fighting has begun!" Cati shouted. "We need to get down again."

As they started down the circular stairs, there was a terrible whirring sound in the air. Owen looked up, startled. As he did so the long figure of Dr. Diamond cannoned into him. Dr. Diamond pushed Owen to one side as a barbed lance, over a meter long and made entirely of ice, glanced off the handrail beside him. With terrible force it crashed against the brass wall of the Nab, making a deep clanging sound and leaving a large dent in the

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handrail. The lance had broken in two pieces. Owen bent to lift one but Dr. Diamond stopped him.

"It would freeze your hand," he shouted. "You'd lose your arm or worse. It is not ordinary ice and probably poisoned. Run!"

They ran, Dr. Diamond coming behind them, urging them on, half carrying Cati when she slipped. The noise of battle grew louder as they descended, and smoke started to drift up to them. They were halfway down the Nab when Owen heard an odd humming sound, followed by a warning shout from Dr. Diamond. He turned to see a Planeman astride his flying craft, coming up behind them and gaining rapidly.

Close up, the craft was bigger than Owen had thought, a complicated structure of long spars and struts, with blades that stirred the air and looked too fragile to bear their great length. The craft drew alongside, the blades almost touching the Nab. The Planeman turned his head to look at them. He was crouched behind the controls wearing huge goggles, and Owen felt that they were being looked at by a giant, hungry insect. The Planeman was wearing an oil-stained leather jacket and matted fur leggings, and Owen could see under the goggles the sideburns that all Johnston's men sported.

Abruptly the Planeman wheeled away to the left. "He's coming in to attack!" Dr. Diamond shouted. Sure enough, the craft turned in the air above them and started to descend rapidly.

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"Try to keep the tower between us and him," said Dr. Diamond. They descended in a deadly game, trying to anticipate the Planeman's movements. Twice the man fired a long ice harpoon at them, and twice it shattered harmlessly against the side of the Nab. But the ground was getting closer.

They almost made it. Owen thought that they had given the Planeman the slip. He could almost feel the earth under his feet, but the goggled man was an expert and cunning pilot. As they slid onto the last platform the deadly craft rose from beneath it, the ice cannon pointed straight at them. Owen could see the mouth beneath the goggles, the yellow teeth bared in an ugly grin.

"The gun!" Cati cried. Owen had forgotten he was carrying it. "The gun, the gun!" Cati made a grab for it. She missed the barrel; her hand caught the trigger mechanism instead. A bolt of blue light shot from the barrel, cannoned off the brass side of the Nab, and glanced off the edge of one of the plane's wings. The aircraft yawed wildly as the man fought with the controls.

There was a nasty noise coming from the plane now, and as Owen watched, it rose high in the air, higher and higher, the pilot fighting the controls wildly. Its ascent became faster and faster, the plane turning in tight little circles. The two children looked on in fear and pity as it grew smaller and smaller, until in the end it was a tiny speck and then nothing at all.

"The poor man," said Cati.

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"He was about to kill us," Owen said.

"I know," she said, but still she watched the empty space where the plane had disappeared.

"Come on," Dr. Diamond said, gently but firmly.

As they ran down the path toward the riverbank, they met wounded men going back to the Workhouse. Most of them were able to walk, although there were broken arms and ugly, blue-lipped wounds from the ice lances. But at one point on the path they had to stand back in silence and watch as a stretcher was carried past bearing a man who did not move or open his eyes. He was one of Samual's men and the red of blood had been added to the color of his gaudy clothes.

"I'm taking you two to the Workhouse," Dr. Diamond said. When they started to protest he turned to them with a grave face. "I want your solemn promise that you will stay in the Workhouse and not go down to the riverbank," he said.

Reluctantly they agreed. In the distance they could hear shouts and explosions and they were simultaneously afraid and drawn to the action.

"If you go upstairs in the Workhouse," Dr. Diamond said, "you'll be able to see everything. And since I have your promise, I will leave you here."

They turned and ran toward the Workhouse. Dr. Diamond watched them for a moment, then turned back toward the Nab. He had learned a few new things that day and he had work to do.

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The Workhouse building showed signs of attack when the children reached it. There were scars in its crumbling stone and shards of ice lay on the ground. They ran through the doorway just as there was a loud whistling sound and a huge ice lance struck the wall above their heads. But it would take more than even the coldest ice to penetrate its great walls, and as Owen and Cati ran on, the sounds of attack faded. Passing the door of the Convoke hall, they saw that it had been turned into a temporary infirmary and that there were already more than twenty soldiers on low pallets on the ground.

On and on they ran up one of the Workhouse's endless staircases until it seemed that the fighting must be over by the time they got to the top. They arrived breathlessly at an old room just under the eaves. The room was full of strange and wild stone carvings, weathered until the marks had almost faded back into the stone. Owen could make out the figures of men and women, some peaceful, some looking as if they were engaged in a terrible struggle.

Cati hardly spared them a glance. "They used to be on the roof," she said, "but everyone thought they were so moldy that they would fall off on people's heads. Come on!"

They ran to the window. The fighting had intensified. Owen saw that Samual's troops were holding their trenches by the river as wave upon wave of Johnston's men waded across the river and attacked them. The air

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was full of jagged bolts of magno, and ice lances fell like rain, some flung by Johnston's men, but other, bigger ones, being flung from the white mist that covered the ground behind them, arching upward as if thrown by machine. Of the Harsh there was no sign. That worried Owen. And above it all the Planemen wheeled and turned and sought targets among the defenders.

"Where's Rutgar?" asked Cati.

"Look! " Owen said, pointing downriver. Hidden from the Planemen by an outcrop of rock with pine trees on it, a band of soldiers led by Rutgar had crossed the river and was making its way silently toward Johnston's lines-- hoping, Owen could tell, to mount a surprise, flanking attack. Using the low ground by the river, they crept forward. They were almost there when Owen saw something else. A body of men lay in a shallow depression twenty meters inland from Rutgar. There were more men than Rutgar had, and even at this distance Owen could make out Johnston's unmistakable bulk. He heard a hiss of breath from Cati.

"It's a trap!" she exclaimed. "They'll get Rutgar from behind."

The two children leapt to their feet, waving and shouting, but it was useless against the noise of the battle. They watched, horror-stricken, as Rutgar continued to creep forward, while Johnston staged the surprise attack that would wipe out Rutgar and his men.

Owen grabbed the magno gun, which had lain forgotten against the wall.

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"What are you doing?" cried Cati. Owen didn't reply. He got down on his stomach, the little holosights appearing in his vision as soon as he sighted along the barrel. His hands were slippery with sweat and he was finding it hard to focus. Settling himself, he sought the little floating bead and fixed its aim.

There was no more time. He felt the barrel of the weapon become warm in his hands, even before his finger closed on the trigger, as if it knew that he was going to fire. He squeezed tighter and tighter; the barrel suddenly surged with heat and he felt the searing bolt leap from the muzzle.

It missed Rutgar by centimeters. A rock in front of him splintered and he leapt backward. He turned in shock to see who was firing on him from his own lines. Owen jumped up at the window, shouting and gesticulating toward the shallow depression where Johnston and his men lay hidden. Rutgar realized what was happening. With a warning shout he swung around. At the same moment Johnston's men sprang from cover.

With a noise that Owen could hear high above the river, the two bands came together. They were too close to use their guns and ice lances, and they fought instead with the long bayonets from their belts. The fighting was fierce and Rutgar's soldiers were driven backward, but Johnston had lost his element of surprise and he could not break Rut-gar's line. For a moment Johnston and Rutgar were facing each other, and the two men struggled toe to toe before a knot of fighting men drove between them.

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The two groups fought for close to an hour. Owen could see that Rutgar's men were tiring.

"Johnston's got too many men," Cati said.

"He's getting between Rutgar and the river," said Owen.

It was true. Bit by bit, Rutgar's retreat to the river was being cut off. They could see that many of Rutgar's men were bleeding. Some of Johnston's men went down and did not get up, but Rutgar's men were also falling. They were fighting with desperation now.

"Look!" shouted Cati. One of Johnston's men had one of the Resisters on the ground. He had raised a bayonet to stab when a long arc of light uncurled almost lazily toward him, wrapping itself around the man, then flinging him high into the air.

"Pieta!" Owen exclaimed.

Methodically Pieta worked her way through the attackers, who fell left and right. Owen could see Johnston snarling at her, keeping well out of the range of the powerful whip. Johnston's men fell back; some of them dropped their weapons and ran rather than face Pieta. Just then the fighting seemed to pause. There was a loud, mournful hooting noise, rising and falling, and Owen knew from its cold, empty tones that it was the voice of the Harsh. Cati put her hands over her ears and hung her head.

Down at the riverbank, Johnston's men had started to retreat, step by step, the defenders fighting them all the

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way across the river. As they did so, the white mist crept forward, enveloping the attackers for a moment only. When it retreated, Johnston's men were gone.

The bottom floor of the Workhouse was crowded when Owen and Cati got down the stairs. Men and women who had been fighting all day were eating and casualties were being attended to. They saw the Sub-Commandant looking anxiously about him, then his relief when his eyes fell on Cati. She waved at him, but then a messenger approached him and he turned away. The children pushed through the crowd of tired fighters, making their way toward the door. As they reached it they heard a shout and turned to see Samual striding angrily toward them.

"Stop that boy!" he shouted. Several of his men at the door turned in surprise, but when he repeated his command, one of them caught Owen by the arm. Samual stopped in front of Owen and Cati.

"Do you think I didn't see what you did?" he demanded. His face was white with anger and his hand was on the hilt of his bayonet.

"He didn't do anything!" exclaimed Cati.

"I was right about you all along," the man snarled, "and I should finish you here and now!"

"What is going on?" a stern voice demanded. It was Chancellor. "What's all this about finishing?"

"I saw this boy in the high window," Samuel said. "He