World's End (8 page)

But I forced you to go,
thought Alfonso. He shivered and stepped aside to let Bilblox into the cockpit. The longshoreman-turned-smuggler tenderly maneuvered Snej's body into an upright position and then placed the pilot's hands on the Twin Otter's steering wheel.

"This is the way she'd want to go," said Bilblox with a choked sob. "Pilotin' the Twin Otter, doin' her job expertly to the end. She saved us." Silently, he drew a blanket over Snej's body.

A few seconds later, this moment was interrupted by a frightful sight. A very large wolf, roughly six feet in length, had suddenly wandered behind them into the main cabin of the plane. It had gray fur, blue eyes, and terrifying fangs. "Don't move," whispered Alfonso tensely. "There's a wolf in the plane."

"Oh, that's nothing to worry about," he said. He stepped out of the cockpit and into the main cabin. "Come here, Kõrgu!"

The wolf immediately leapt into Bilblox's outstretched arms from the middle of the cabin. It was an astounding jump. The wolf must have leapt fifteen feet. Only a man the size of Bilblox—who was roughly 350 pounds of solid muscle—could have absorbed the wolf's momentum and not toppled over.

"What the..." began Alfonso.

"This is my seein' eye dog," explained Bilblox. "She's quite a jumper. That's why her name is Kõrgushüpe. It means 'high jump' in Estonian."

"That's no dog," protested Alfonso.

"Fair enough," said Bilblox. "Technically she's a Mongolian wolf, but I don't like to advertise that fact, because people tend to get scared by the word
wolf.
"

"I see," said Alfonso.

"She's perfectly friendly when she's not sinkin' her fangs into somethin'," said Bilblox. He let the wolf jump out of his hands back into the cabin, and then turned back to the cockpit. "We've got work to do," said Bilblox suddenly. "There are a number of things that we gotta do immediately. We gotta patch up some of the holes in this plane, find some blankets, and gather up some food. Maybe we'll even try to light a fire. I don't know what time-a day it is, but it feels like the sun is going down. We musta both blacked out for a while. Anyway, night'll be here before we know it, and I ain't gonna let us freeze to death."

"What about Great Wandering Day?" asked Alfonso.

"Don't matter," replied Bilblox. "The name of the game now is survival."

And that was that.

They immediately set to work converting the Twin Otter cabin into a shelter against the cold. First they unpacked their baggage and put on every last article of clothing that they had with them. Alfonso then searched the plane for supplies. In a storage area at the rear of the plane he found an emergency bin that included matches, a flare gun, a set of flares, a medical kit, a dozen or so blankets, two pots, a pair of binoculars, a flashlight, a compass, a container of powdered milk, and two dozen packages of freeze-dried chili. Alfonso dragged the entire bin into the main cabin of the plane. In the meantime, Bilblox had discovered Snej's rifle and three boxes of ammunition.

"It's an ol' thirty caliber, bolt-action Enfield," explained Bilblox. "It belonged to Snej. It was an antique that I bought for her in England on account of her heroism in several adventures. It's in perfect workin' order. I can't use it, but you may have to at some point. Let's hope not. Also, you might as well fire off the flare gun, just in case. I reckon we'll have to escape this jam ourselves, but you never know, maybe someone is watchin'."

Alfonso stepped outside and fired off two flares in rapid succession. He watched the flares cast a muted glow against the swirling snow. Perhaps someone would see them. After all, today was Great Wandering Day. But there were several serious problems. Somnos could be far away—ten or even fifty miles away. What's more, visibility was very bad. What were the chances that anyone would actually see these flares? Finally, it was evening now. The day was over. Most likely the gates had already closed shut and would stay shut for the next twelve years.

Alfonso and Bilblox spent the next hour stuffing cushions and other materials into the gaping holes in the Twin Otter's walls and ceiling. Visibility was nil but there was no doubt that it was getting colder and darker. They settled down to eat some rations, and then tried to rest.

Bilblox sank heavily to the floor of the plane. He suddenly looked very tired and haggard. He began to massage his forehead with his fingers as if he had a migraine.

"Are you all right?" asked Alfonso.

"I'm fine," muttered Bilblox.

"You have a headache?"

Bilblox nodded. Alfonso knew that his friend must be in serious pain because he rarely if ever complained of discomfort or even showed any signs of weakness.

"You started getting these headaches after your eyes turned white?" asked Alfonso.

Bilblox nodded. "Just give me a few minutes," he muttered. "I'll be all right."

Alfonso said nothing more. Instead, he tried to fall asleep, but this proved impossible. Eventually, out of sheer boredom, Alfonso grabbed the rosewood box that he had found in Alexandria and opened it up. Once again, he studied the thousands of tiny indentations that covered the bottom of the box. He eyed them with great frustration. Alfonso knew that if he just entered hypnogogia he might be able to decipher what hidden patterns or codes were embedded in these markings. For roughly two years now, however, he had avoided entering hypnogogia. He had been too afraid. Afraid that he might wind up back in the hospital. Afraid that he'd break his bones or end up in a coma again. But now, suddenly, he felt disgusted with himself. He was tired of being afraid.

Alfonso composed himself. He took several deep breaths. His heart rate began to slow. He relaxed his eyes and then focused on a single indentation. His mind became totally clear. Then something clicked deep within his consciousness—clicked almost like a key turning in a lock—and milliseconds later, Alfonso was in hypnogogia.

Right away, Alfonso could hear the faintest of noises—the sound of individual snowflakes colliding, the drip of water rolling down Bilblox's boots, and the slight groan of a metal screw loosening from the wall of the plane. He could smell everything, too—the odor of jet fuel leaking into the snow, the twang of paprika in the freeze-dried chili, and even the scent of iodine in the medical kit.

But there was no time to waste on any of this. Alfonso didn't want to stay in hypnogogia for long. Immediately, he directed his attention toward the rosewood box and the pattern of indentations. Some of the indentations were octagons (eight-sided) and some were nonagons (nine-sided). When he blocked out the octagons and focused only on the nonagons he saw that the nonagons clearly formed a doorway complete with a handle. There was no mistaking it. Then, to Alfonso's utter astonishment, the doorway actually swung open, as if the bottom of the box had transformed into an animated cartoon. The shock of this realization made Alfonso sit up and snap out of hypnogogia.

"What's wrong?" mumbled Bilblox. He had heard Alfonso stirring.

"You wouldn't believe me," replied Alfonso breathlessly.

"Go to sleep," muttered Bilblox. "We're gonna need our rest."

Bilblox instantly drifted back off to sleep. Kõrgu slept next to her master, with her head in Bilblox's lap. Alfonso shut the rosewood box, pulled several blankets over himself, and closed his eyes.

***

The mysterious currents of Alfonso's sleep whisked him into a dream. It was an unpleasant dream and one that he had actually experienced several times in the past few days. Alfonso and his classmates were about to enter the Eiffel Tower. They were on the ground below, among the hawkers selling wind-up plastic birds and fluorescent wristbands. Everyone wanted to take the elevator except for Alfonso. Instead, he took the stairs, climbing upward floor by floor. It was thrilling to be so exposed to the wind and sun, and to go up a different way than everyone else did.

Alfonso kept walking, cheerfully ignoring the shouts from his friends. They'd be quite impressed when he met them up above. In fact, he'd probably be waiting for them, since the line for the elevators was quite long. The wind and sun blew in his hair and he could see the distinctive Haussmann-era apartment buildings shining in the light of a crisp, clear day.

Then the dream took an unexpected turn. The sky clouded over. The wind abruptly became colder and Alfonso started to shiver. He looked around and noticed that the Eiffel Tower had begun to sway. Angry dark clouds covered the sky and in the far distance, Alfonso could see a disturbance, as if the ground was being churned up by a squadron of earthmovers. He felt his heart begin to pound. He tried to shout below, to warn his classmates, but no sound came out. The churning drew nearer. It buckled the earth, destroying whole city blocks. The air filled with dust and smoke. Alfonso held on to the superstructure of the Eiffel Tower as it vibrated rapidly. One leg of the massive tower was pushed up by this churning, and the entire structure began to bend.

As the Eiffel Tower began to fall, the air cleared and Alfonso could see the extent of the sudden devastation. In place of an orderly city, fires raged and people fled everywhere. What had been a flat city had turned into ruins pockmarked with giant bumps, as if something within the earth was trying to get out. Trees along the Champs-Élysées became skeletons and the water along the Seine turned black and began draining away. All that was green and living died in the blink of an eye. A great, screeching noise besieged Alfonso's ears. He looked and saw the graceful metal latticework of the Eiffel Tower tearing apart just above him. It was at that moment that Alfonso was finally able to scream.

Alfonso opened his eyes in terror. He found himself staring at a very anxious Bilblox.

"Stop screamin' 'n' get up!" Bilblox said. "Someone's pokin' around outside the plane."

"W-What?" asked Alfonso.

"Listen," said Bilblox. "You'll hear 'em."

Alfonso held his breath and heard footsteps. Bilblox was right. Someone or
something
was definitely out there.

Kõrgu began to growl. Her body trembled with anticipation of a fight.

"You better take this," whispered Bilblox as he handed Alfonso the Enfield rifle.

Alfonso took the gun and set it across his lap. An instant later, one of the cushions that they had stuffed into the wall popped out and a tall figure stepped into the plane.

"Who's there?!" demanded Alfonso as he grabbed the Enfield rifle and pointed it toward the intruder. "Bilblox, quick, turn on the flashlight!"

The intruder laughed in a very familiar way. "You wouldn't shoot an old man like me, would you?" he asked.

Bilblox flicked on the flashlight. Standing in the wreckage of the plane was Alfonso's one and only uncle, Hill Persplexy.

"U
NCLE
H
ILL
!" exclaimed Alfonso. He ran to him and they exchanged a fierce hug.

"My dear boy," replied Hill with a smile. He wore a white fur-covered jacket, a thick wool hat, his battered pilot's goggles, and brown leather gloves. His mustache had grown longer and whiter. Otherwise, life in Somnos seemed to agree with him—Hill appeared to be in fine health.

"Alfonso, it's splendid of you to drop in on us," he said. "And just in time. We were about to close the gates on Great Wandering Day when one of our deployed scouts described a 'steel bird dropping out of the sky.' A steel bird—don't you love it? No one in Somnos has ever seen an airplane, of course. And then another scout saw the flares and, of course, we came over as fast as we could."

Another person, a tall woman, stepped through the same opening Hill used to enter the plane. She had jet-black hair that curled away from her cheeks, a noble face, and beguiling blue eyes that glittered in the dim light. She stood ramrod straight and glanced quickly at Hill, then Alfonso and Bilblox.

"Is everyone all right?" she asked in English, which was tinged with a squeaky Dormian accent. "And what is that wolf doing here?"

"That's my pup," replied Bilblox. "Don't worry, ma'am, she's had all 'er shots, and is as well trained as a mammal with fangs can be. As fer our condition, Alfonso's got a cut on his head and I've got one on my neck but otherwise we're okay." He paused. "The pilot—Snej Duhamel—didn't make it. If it wasn't fer 'er, we'd all be dead."

"My condolences," replied the woman drowsily. Her eyes were now half-closed and she appeared to be asleep. She was clearly a Dormian knight—those elite soldiers who vacillated between sleeping and waking every few seconds. "I will ask my knights to prepare a burial site." She then turned to face Alfonso, saluted, and bowed. Her eyes sprang open. She appeared to be taking a series of five-second naps.

"Colonel Nathalia Treeknot at your service, though please just call me Nathalia," she said. "I'm in charge of the Dormian Expeditionary Corps, part of the Order of the Dormian Knights." Her eyes closed. "On behalf of the Order, I'd like to welcome you home."

The colonel's words were welcoming enough, but there was something in her demeanor that seemed rather harsh. She barked several terse orders and her knights, who were all dressed in long fur coats, immediately snapped to. They gathered up whatever could be salvaged from the airplane—including the luggage, the Enfield rifle, and the contents of the emergency kit, while the others dug a burial site for Snej. Like the colonel, the knights switched between being asleep and awake every five seconds.

The funeral for Snej happened almost immediately. The group only had time for a brief ceremony before setting out through the snow, since the sky loomed gray with another blizzard. Bilblox was the only one to speak and he recited the same pilot's prayer that he had heard Snej utter so many times.

 

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth.
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings,
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds—and done a hundred things...

 

"I can't remember the rest," said Bilblox hoarsely. Tears gleamed on his face. "The prayer was written by a nineteen-year-old Canadian airman during World War Two."