“What now?” But he might be asking that of someone or something beyond our own company.
“That way!” Hilarion squirmed impatiently in his seat, pointing the wand directly across the highway.
My father laughed harshly. “That takes some considering. We cannot cross in this—not and want it to be of service thereafter.”
“Why?” Hilarion’s impatience was stronger, as if, so close to the goal, he would not be gainsaid in making a straight line to reach it.
“Because that is no ordinary roadway,” my father returned. “It is rather a force broadcast meant to keep the tower transports in motion. This tank was never designed to touch it. I do not know what will happen if we crawl out upon it, but I do not think that it would survive such a journey.”
“Then what do we do? Seek a bridge?” demanded Hilarion.
“We have no promise any exists,” my father answered bleakly. “And to hunt a bypass or overpass may take us many leagues out of our way.” He turned away from the screen to look directly to the adept. “Have you any knowledge of how close you now are to the gate site?”
“Perhaps a league, or less . . .”
“There is a chance—” my father began hesitatingly, as if while he spoke he was measuring in his mind one ill against another and trying to assess which was the least. “We might perhaps use this tank as a bridge. But if it fails, and leaves us caught midway . . .” Now he shook his head a little.
“I think, Simon,” my mother broke in, “that we have little choice. If we seek a way around there may be none, and we shall only be putting such a length of journey between us and the gate as will defeat us. If this half plan of yours has any merit at all, then we must prove it here and now.”
He did not answer her at once, but sat looking to the screen as one studying a weighty problem. Then he said, “I can promise you no better odds than if you throw the tipcones with Lothur.”
My mother laughed. “Ah, but I have seen you do that very thing, Simon, and thereafter, having made your wager, take up two handfuls of round pieces from the board! Life is full of challenges and one may not sidestep even the worst of them, as we well know.”
“Very well. I do not know the nature of this force but I think that it flows as a current. We must set the controls and hope for the best.”
But there were more preparations for us to make. Under my father’s orders, we climbed out of the crawler, taking Ayllia with us; and then we loaded into that small section where we had crouched as passengers, and into the seats in front, all the loose rocks we could gouge from the ground about us, setting such a weight in the interior as would give the vehicle some anchorage against any flow of force. My father brought forth the chain rope which had aided us out of the well. With that we made handholds on the flat roof of the crawler, taking with us what was left of our supplies and water. Once we were all atop, save for my father, he entered the cabin, crawling through the small space he had left for that purpose. Under us the machine came to life, edged back and around to once more face the road directly. It was partly upslope, tilted toward the black surface on which my father read such danger.
As it began to crawl and slide down again, my father swung out and up to join us. He had been right in his foreboding. As the heavy vehicle rammed out onto that surface it was struck with an impact like the anger of a mighty river current, half turned from its course.
Would it be entirely turned, bearing us, as helpless prisoners on and on to the towers this road served? Or would the power my father had activated win across for us? I lay grasping the rope until its links bit painfully into my flesh, while under me the machine trembled and fought. It traveled at an angle to the right, but it still had not been sucked into the complete turn which would mean disaster. I could not be sure that we were still making any progress toward the other side.
We had already been swept on, well away from the point where we had entered. And what would happen if one of the transports for the towers came down upon us? So vivid was the picture of that in my mind that I fought to blank it out, and so perhaps missed the turning point of our battle.
I was suddenly aware of the fact that my father was no longer stretched flat beside me, but was on his knees freeing the packs of supplies. With a quick toss he hurled them both to his left so that, raising my head, I saw them strike the ground beyond the road, on the side we wished to reach. Then his hand gripped my shoulder tightly.
“Loose your hold!” he ordered. “When I give the word—jump!”
I could see no hope of success. But this was a time when one must place faith in another, and I struggled with my fear long enough to indeed loose my frantic hold and rise to my knees, then, with my father’s hand drawing me up, to my feet. I glanced around to see my mother and Hilarion also standing, Ayllia between them, stirring as if awaking.
“Jump!”
I forced my unwilling body to that effort, not daring to think of what my landing beyond might mean. But luckily I struck on the edge of a dune of ash-sand and, while I sank well into it, I was uninjured, able to struggle out, spitting the stuff from between my lips, smearing it out of my eyes and nostrils.
By the time I was free of it and able to see, I marked other dust-covered figures arising from similar mounds. And, as I stumbled toward them, I discovered we were no worse off than bruises, choked throats and grit-tormented eyes.
But the tank had now been turned wholly about, caught tight in the mid-current, and was fast disappearing from our sight, whirling on to the distant goal of the towers.
We slipped and slid back through the dunes to find and dig out the supply packs. Then Hilarion took out the wand which he had stowed in his tunic for safekeeping. Once more he held it to his forehead.
“There!” He pointed into the very heart of the dune country.
Ayllia was walking, though it was needful to hold her by the hand, and I knew my mother had taken over her mind to some extent. This was a burden on Jaelithe, so that I straightaway joined with her in that needful action.
Footing in the shifting ash-sand was very bad. Sometimes we waded in the powdery stuff almost knee-deep. And the dunes all looked so much alike that without Hilarion’s wand we might have been lost as soon as we left the side of the road, to wander heedlessly.
But all at once I saw something tall and firm loom up and I recognized it as one of the metal pillars which I had seen when we entered through the gate. With that in sight part of my fears were lost. Only, would Hilarion really know when we reached the proper spot? There had been no marking on this side that I had been able to perceive.
However, our guide appeared to have no doubts at all. He led us in a twisting hard-to-travel path, but always he came back to the way the wand pointed. At last we stood at the base of another of those pitted pillars. I could not be sure, for there was a terrible sameness to this country, but I thought that we had indeed reached the place we had first entered.
“Here.” Hilarion was certain. He faced what seemed to me, merely air full of dust (for a breeze had arisen to blow up whirls of acrid powder).
“No marker,” commented my father. But my mother, shielding her eyes with her hands half cupped about them, stared as intently ahead as the adept.
“There is something there,” she conceded, “A troubling—”
Hilarion might not have heard her. He was using the wand in quick strokes, as an artist might paint a scene with a brush, moving it up and down and around, to outline a portal.
And in its track the dust in the wind (or was it dust? I could not be sure.) left faint lines in the air following the path of the wand tip. This outlined an oblong which was center crossed by two lines each of which ran from, the two upper corners to the two lower ones. In the four spaces thus quartered off the wand tip was now setting symbols. Two of these I knew—or at least I knew ones like them, as if those I learned had somewhat changed shape in time.