The Space Between Page 4

  And that place was a tree.

  Keeble stopped at the edge of a clearing and examined the monstrosity before him. "Whistler's Mother," he swore. 'Tree' was hardly a fit description. The tree, of a species he didn't recognize, was enormous. The clearing was more than a hundred meters across and the tree shaded nearly half of that area. "Seventy meters high," he said, though he knew it was not exactly right. For a moment he was horrified by the thought that he wasn't exactly right. He should be exactly right. "And the base has ten meter diameter." Close enough. He nodded to himself as he continued to examine the arboreal giant. Smooth, red tinged bark. Leaves slightly larger than his good hand. And the symphony, the Song, dancing its impossible rhythms in his head.

  Three tall, slim dwives were tending the tree. One was high up, sawing slowly at a dead branch. Another was collecting seeds from the ground, seeming to say a prayer over each before placing it carefully in a woven basket. The third, standing on a ladder, was reaching up to check the lowest leaves.

  "Bugs, probably." Though Keeble found it hard to believe that any number of bugs could kill such a tree. He hefted his multi-tool and examined the edge of the axe blade. "A blunt spot." He sniffed his distaste. "Would you look at that." He turned to show Meledrin, but she wasn't there. He shrugged and started to move to the base of the tree anyway. He stopped when he heard a shout of fear and shock from behind.

  Keeble spun about and peered back the way he'd come. Meledrin was there now, not twenty meters behind, but she wasn't the one who'd shouted. She stood, bow at the ready, looking back as well. Another shout rang out, and a burst of flame seemed to erupt out of nothing. Keeble walked back to stand by Meledrin's side.

  "Dragons," the woman said, her emotions held in check like a flock of sheep behind the flimsy gate he'd seen earlier.

  "No." He licked his lips. "Explosives."

  "What?"

  "That isn't natural." He sniffed the air. "There's cordite, sulpher, potassium nitrate, and some other things I don't recognize. Very dangerous mix. Unless one of those ingredients I don't know is the control agent, I suppose."

  "We must go back and assist."

  He turned his glance skywards for a moment. There were lots of big bats circling overhead. "I don't think we'd be much help."

  The dwives who'd been working on the tree seemed to have other ideas. The three of them ran past, long ceremonial dresses not slowing them, hair streaming behind. They each had an arrow nocked.

  Keeble shrugged and turned back to the tree. The others would have to fend for themselves. He had more important things to do. He didn't think anything could be done anyway. "I don't have any explosives and no time to make any." And there was no stout war party to take up the defense, just dwives and their bows and dwarves with light swords. He shook his head in disgust. He hadn't seen a war axe or war hammer since arriving.

  "The tree can save us, anyway," Keeble said. "I'm not exactly sure how, but there's too much power for it to be otherwise."

  The tree was calling to him like a steam whistle starting a work shift. If only this backward place had whistles and shifts. Bats were just bats, even if they could shit fire, as appeared to be happening. But the Song was astounding.

  He didn't pause at the edge of the clearing this time. He didn't look up at the tree in case it distracted him. Adjusting his mechanical hand, he strode to the base of the tree and set to work, chopping with strong, economical strokes. He was going to sing a chopping song but none came to mind.

  "Stop."

  Keeble did stop, but only for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Meledrin staring at him in horror. She still held her bow, but it was forgotten. He turned back to his work. A nagging thought about women. "Bloody women."

  Another explosion shook seeds from the tree, bringing them down like hail. Keeble took one from the top of his head and examined it for a moment, spinning it in his fingers, before tossing it away. He set to work again, a smile on his face. Explosions came more regularly. And they came closer. He could almost chop with the rhythm of the explosions.

  It was only a dozen strokes before Keeble made a breakthrough. He jarred his good hand badly and almost bent his mechanical one when a thin wall of wood fell apart. It showed empty space beyond. At almost the same time Meledrin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back from the tree. The woman was stronger than she looked, but he twisted free and glared at her.

  "What do you think you are doing, Keeble?" Her voice was shaking with rage. "How dare you touch the Ohoga tree. You profane this sacred place just by being here."

  "Do you really think that matters now?" He gestured to the sky, and there were still dozens of the huge bats there. Each had an assembly of shining metallic cylinders strapped to its belly, and they all wheeled about as if looking for somewhere to land. The clearing where the huge tree was located was an obvious choice.

  The first of the creatures shook the trees with its enormous wings and settled to the ground even as Keeble and Meledrin watched.

  Keeble had a vague feeling he should be afraid, but he wasn't. "The Song gives me strength," he said. Or perhaps it just distracted him.

  Fires were sending thick blankets of smoke through the forest. People were shouting, screaming.

  "Perhaps it isn't a bat," he said, cocking his head to one side as he looked. "It isn't quite a bat and isn't quite a bird." Either term would probably do.

  For a tree, the tree was huge, but the bat-bird would've crushed it had it tried to find a perch. It flared its leathery wings for a moment to get its balance, and it was like a storm cloud had passed across the sun.

  "Forty meters across," Keeble said. "It has to weigh a few ton. Something like that shouldn't be able to get off the ground. Especially with those cylinders."

  But the Song was still echoing around the corners of his mind, and he'd broken through to a hollow section of the giant tree, so he didn't want to spend time working out size to weight ratios. He turned and started chopping again.

  Another explosion shook the ground, and Keeble almost lost his rhythm. The Song kept him working steadily though, kept his mind focussed.

  "Stop." Meledrin's face was even paler than usual.

  "The tree is hollow, woman." He took a great chunk of the tree away and crouched down to look into the hole. There was nothing to see.

  "Keeble."

  The dwarf turned. Meledrin had backed away a few steps and was pointing her bow at him. An arrow was drawn back to her cheek. He looked into her green eyes and shivered at what he saw there.

  "Guess you'll just have to kill me. The tree is hollow. Don't you think that's strange? And there's a huge bat behind you with cylinders strapped to its belly." What they did to flight dynamics was unthinkable. Dwarves had been working on flight for a few years. "If anyone had come up with something like that bat they'd have been laughed out of the mountain. And quite possibly the forest as well, though who knows with you strange dwarves."

  The bat had crouched and brightly armored figures were emerging from the two outermost canisters. The first such person was almost as tall as Meledrin and wore a chunky, riveted suit of armor with flaking green and purple paint. The second was the same. They were only thirty meters away.

  "There's a huge bat behind you that seems to be a vehicle for people." His subconscious calculations of flight dynamics were thrown into the forge, and he began to recast them. "Can those people move about in the canisters, do you think? Or are they strapped in? What are they strapped to? What are those suits made from? They could use a gas that's lighter than air." He nodded in satisfaction. That idea had been doing the rounds recently in Tab Cavern. "Has to be it."

  "What?" Meledrin still had her bow drawn. Thankfully it was pointing the other way. It was pointed at the first colorful figure but Keeble didn't think it would have much effect.

  The ground was moving in a nonstop dance now. Keeble was having trouble staying on his feet, and he could hardly even hear himself speak over the hum of gi
ant wings, the crackle of fire, and the clamor of battle.

  "A gas that's lighter than air — hydrogen for instance. That could alleviate some of the weight problems. Though probably not enough, really." He started his calculations again, working on the presumption that the canisters were filled with hydrogen and the people inside either breathed the hydrogen — would that make them lighter than they appeared as well? — or carried oxygen tanks somewhere in their brightly colored armor.

  He turned and continued to cut while he thought. He swung his multi-tool with calm urgency, taking out great chunks of wood with each powerful blow.

  A fire erupted nearby.

  After a flurry of strokes Keeble finally opened up a hole large enough to crawl through. He turned once more to look at Meledrin and was just in time to see her loose her first arrow.

  The long shaft hit one of the strangers on the base of the neck and bounced away harmlessly. A second shaft hit the same place a moment later. And a third.

  Keeble liked the idea but didn't think it'd work. "I don't think you'll weaken the armor like that," he said.

  All she'd managed to do was draw the strangers' attention, which Keeble didn't think was such a good idea. Three of the figures swiveled slowly in their direction. The armor screeched in protest.

  For a moment Keeble wondered what to do. Explosions were toppling trees all around Grovely with casual efficiency. Attacking from above: what an advantage.

  "Shoot the bat," he shouted to Meledrin. He was about to say 'shoot the bird' as well, in case she was confused by the changing names. But, she shifted targets almost instantly, letting fly with deadly accuracy towards the huge bat's head. She hit an eye once, twice, eliciting screams from the wounded creature, then aimed lower, at it's exposed neck. The first shaft bounced away, but the second bit deeply.

  Keeble grunted. "Huh. Just might work." It wouldn't work if she weren't given more time. With another grunt and a shake of his head, he raced towards the nearest of the armored figures.

  "Stupid bloody dwarf." He dropped his shoulder and barged through the first of the figures. It fell to the ground and squirmed like an overturned tortoise.

  Keeble might well have used the same tactics for the next target, but his shoulder was numbed from the collision. "That armor is bloody heavy. It explains why they're so slow," he said, as he swung his axe one-handed. The tool almost shuddered from his grasp when he made contact with an armored chest. "But it also makes them hard to hurt." And it affected the calculations that were running through his mind. The Song was still dancing around in his skull and he fitted his new sums in with it.

  "I wonder if there are more armored people in that middle cylinder." It was impossible to tell.

  For the next swing he reversed the tool in his hand and attacked a knee with the sledge. There was a loud crack and a hiss of air, but apparently no other result. Help for his victim was arriving, though at a slow, plodding rate. Keeble looked around and noticed that most of the armored figures, all painted the same colors, were pointing bulbous arms in his direction.

  "Weapons." He darted to the side. He gasped. The hair on his arm stood on end as an almost-visible beam of power passed close by. "Whistler's Mother. That felt like electricity."

  More of the bats were nearing the clearing, presumably coming to drop off their passengers.

  "Get into the tree, Meledrin," Keeble shouted. The woman had run out of arrows and stood silently watching. "Typical woman. Being able to fire arrows doesn't help if you have no head for battle."

  "I cannot hide," she said after a moment. "I cannot run away."

  "Forget it. What you can't do is win." Keeble moved quickly back to his most recent target and struck at the side of the already damaged knee. The figure tumbled to the ground, and Keeble whooped in delight.

  Then he took a parting swing at someone else and ran. "Get in the tree, stupid dwife. That or die." He ran harder. The distance to the tree seemed to have grown. "You can't help anyone if you're dead, Meledrin."

  "It is not possible that the hollow in the tree is large enough to hide us, Keeble."

  Keeble ran. "I don't know. But it will. It has to." The Song was beautiful and powerful and had taken a hold of his soul. "The Song is calling me to the tree." It wouldn't let him die.

  Finally the woman turned and crossed to the tree. A sizzling beam of energy passed through the spot where she'd been standing.

  "Definitely electricity." Dwarves had known about electricity for twenty-two years, but nothing like that.

  He looked back over his shoulder. A dozen arms were zeroing in on him, but seemed to move in slow motion. But he was even slower than they were. Loath as he was to do it, he dropped his tool. It wasn't good to leave tools lying around, but he was able to run quicker.

  When Keeble reached the tree Meledrin had only just entered the hole. As he scrambled in himself he felt a sizzle of energy melt the soles of his boots and send a spasm through his legs.

  "For Whistler's sake, woman, move. Move." He pushed at her, poking with his mechanical hand. "The tree is huge, you must be able to get in further than that." He didn't know why he'd thought the tree would save them, but the Song still filled his mind and he could not doubt.

  When he looked back, he saw the armored figures closing in.

  4: Tree and Sky

  Kim opened her eyes, but the owner of the rough, gravely voice was nowhere to be seen. She glanced around, dark eyes narrowing in concentration. Though she couldn't understand what was being said, the urgency was palpable.

  Kim rose from the bench and scanned the shadows at the edge of the forest. She couldn't see anything and jumped slightly when the voice returned. It was closer than she thought.

  “[Keep going, for Whistler's sake. For my sake.]”

  It was a strange language, like nothing Kim had ever heard before.

  “[I am not a mule, Keeble. All that prodding will not make me move faster.]”

  This second voice was soft and calm. A woman's voice like a dollop of golden honey compared to the rasping landslide of the man. Kim still couldn't understand anything more than the tone. The man was seriously stressed. The woman seemed unconcerned.

  Kim squinted towards the dark mouth of the Major Oak, sure she spied movement. She walked warily back to the fence that penned the tree in but obviously had little effect in keeping people out.

  “[Wait,]” the man said in a harsh whisper. “[Can you smell that?]”

  “[Smell what?]”

  “[You're a forest dweller and you can't smell the difference?]”

  “[I noticed the difference, Keeble, but was unsure if you were referring to something more specific. I was unsure if you would notice.]”

  “[Well I did.]” He grunted. “[I seem to be thinking clearer than I have for ages.]”

  "Hello?" Kim said. People had commented on her stupidity on numerous occasions; she never knew when it was best to give curiosity the finger and head on her way. She felt this was going to be one of those occasions. "Hello. I don't think you're supposed to be in there, you know?" That was obvious, really, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

  The woman stepped into view inside the tree.

  Kim gasped, on the edge of bolting, before getting control. “Whoever's lighting this film should be paid more,” she said softly.

  Shadows covered half the stranger's face, leaving her looking mysterious and slightly ominous. She stood perfectly still for a long moment, green eyes unreadable. Then she turned sideways and carefully climbed through the sinuous slot in the tree and out into the open.

  "Very dramatic," Kim said. "How long have you been hiding in there, waiting to surprise someone?"

  “[Hello.]” As she spoke, the woman wove her fingers in something that may have been sign language. She was tall and lithe with pale skin and sharp features. Her long green dress worked well with her auburn hair. It looked as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon, not a tree. She appeared calm enough, but g
lanced back over her shoulder as if worried she'd forgotten to lock her car.

  After the graceful, beautiful woman, the man who emerged from the shadows was hardly what Kim expected, though his voice should have given him away. He declined to be dramatic, immediately squeezing out of the confines of the tree with lots of grunting and cursing. He wasn't very tall at all and had a broad, swarthy face and unkempt beard. He wore ragged, dirty pants and a linen shirt.

  He sniffed the air. “[Told you. If this is your forest then I'll sit on my hands and do nothing for the rest of the day.]”

  A mechanical contraption of medieval appearance had been fitted in place of his missing left hand. He wound some gears that adjusted the hand before stumping across to the fence and hauling himself over.

  Kim stared for a moment longer.

  “[Where are we, dwife?]” the man asked in the impossible language.

  The woman added something equally unintelligible, and they stared at each other.

  "Great costumes," Kim said eventually. They were the best she'd seen. "A dwarf and an elf, right?" She still didn't know why people insisted on coming to a medieval festival dressed as fantasy creatures. And she didn't know why they'd go to the bother of inventing a language. Though the woman looked slightly Nordic, so perhaps they were speaking something Nordic?

  The man asked his question again, sounding out each word as if Kim might understand the gobbledygook any better.

  "I," Kim replied. "Don't," she added. "Understand."

  It appeared he'd speak once more, but the woman forestalled him with a quiet word and another wave of her long fingers. She climbed the fence with much more grace than the man had managed and, after demurely smoothing her dress, pointed to herself. "Meledrin," she said, slowly and clearly. She then pointed to her companion. "Keeble."

  Kim thought for a moment. There were two possibilities here. One: these two really didn't speak English. Or two: they were just having some fun at Robin Hood's birthday party. Kim remembered the words of the witch and decided to play along. She pointed to herself as the other woman had and stated her name. Then she waved and said, "Hello."