The Islands of Sand and Steel

Chapter Twenty Four: The Kambani

Halusha did not look pleased to think she was inside the Kambani. She dived back under the hatch of the submarine. After one quiet minute, her scream rang out. It was not a scream of rage, or of pain, but of shock and horror.

"What's going on in there?" asked someone.

Luava already knew.

Klangaua emerged from the top hatch, dead and limp, draped over the shoulders of Halusha.

"Dead..." Halusha moaned. "I can't believe it." She reached the edge of the vessel, and the crew helped her get the corpse down. Halusha shot an accusing look at Luava. "How? How did this happen?"

Luava decided to forgive Halusha's tone; even good women could go reckless with grief. "She failed to find safety, and her goddess did not direct her to it. I suppose her soul is ascending as we speak."

Luava had meant that to console Halusha, but the warrior only broke out with a fresh wail, dripping tears onto the sea-soaked body of her sister.

"Halusha," said Luava. "We have to go. Her quest is over, but mine is unfinished, and I need you."

Very slowly, Halusha arranged her sister into a dignified position on the ground, stood up and backed away. She stayed for one more minute, staring tearfully at the muscular, comatose form that had once housed so much vitality. She turned, swiftly, as if yanking a blade out of her skin. "Let's go," she said stiffly.

After making sure that she had Kilo at her side, Luava marched for the edge of the room, which was lit blue by some immortal power. The crew whispered, kept on the near side of panic only by their proximity to each other.

Moss, metal and pale blue light led the way down a succession of hallways and intersections, up a steep ramp and finally to a dome window. Through it, she could see mighty metal arms streaming out in the distance, ending in godly claws that lay flat on the soil. Not for long.

"Metal," she said aloud. "Such a strange substance for the gods."

"I don't think this was the gods," said someone behind her.

Luava ignored her. "Let us find a way to-- what is this?" She noticed a smooth black rope outside that hugged the window, bisecting her view and leading up out of sight.

"My radio wire!" came a screech. Angama materialized from the shadows and ran up to the window. "I sent up the other end of the wire with a buoy. It must have gotten to the surface, because that's how I contacted..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Luava as if she had not noticed her before. Her eyes flashed across Halusha, Kilo and the entire remaining crew. "You're here," she breathed. "Oh, goddess, I can't believe it, you're here! Oh, yes!" She lunged forward and hugged Luava desperately.

"Angama," said Luava, pushing her away. "Excellent. Show us what you've learned about this beast."

"What... what do you mean?"

"How may we awaken it?"

"You can't awaken this beast, Chief. I mean, you can, but it's not like waking up an animal. I think we need to turn it on, like a machine."

"Show me."

Angama swallowed. "It's this way," she squeaked.

She led them through an upward-slanting hallway, then around a bend which contained the only curved lines that Luava had seen so far in the Kambani. A half-open door led into a void lit only by a cone of light from a floor hatch. Down the hatch, a room with humming metal plates in the walls led to a vertical shaft with a rope dangling from it. The floor moss, which had become dryer and scarcer as they left the hangar, was now completely gone.

Angama took the rope. "I found this cable in a room where all the lights were out, and I hooked it all the way up at the top. I made a few knots in the top, but none down here. I'm sorry. I never... I never thought I would see you again."

Luava made no complaint as she gripped the cold, vine-like rope and fitted her toes onto a thin purchase in the wall. She began her ascent, feeling the rope stiffen beneath her fingers as Kilo and the other women followed.

After she had climbed four times her own height, Luava spied a dark room lit by a single, pale blue glow at the end. "Angama," she called, "Is this our destination?"

"I haven't gone in there," said Angama. "I don't know what you'll find there."

Grinning with curiosity, Luava pulled herself up onto the floor and marched into the darkness. Her feet moved carefully, but she met no resistance. The gods had cleared her path for her.

Suddenly, lights flashed to life all around the room, some of them flickering. More ropes like the one she had climbed snaked around the room. A few of them ended in a frayed mess on the floor, but most of them curled back into the walls or the ceiling.

"Cords!" yelped Angama. "Cables! I've seen these..." She ran in front of Luava and examined the cables, then the walls, her eyes following invisible lines. Her face bore the expression she always wore while she dealt with strange contraptions. "It's true," she murmured. "This beast runs on electricity. I've seen something that looked like it made power, and it still worked. I think something will happen if you connect that." She pointed the thickest of the ropes, which hung down from the ceiling, frayed but not yet turned to dust.

"Is it made of metal?" asked Luava.

"I think so."

"Someone bring a..." she faltered. She could not remember of the name she wanted. "Bring some tool that can repair that rope."

Three of the crew disappeared. Luava waited, gazing hungrily at the broken cable, until the women returned with some tool salvaged from the submarine. She watched impatiently as the mechanic reconnected the cable's fibers, one gingerly touch at a time.

"There," said the woman, stepping back. "She mopped her brow. "I shouldn't have done that. There could have been power running through those wires."

"Why isn't there?" asked someone else.

"There are still more wires to connect," said Angama. "Here..." she connected two differently-sized frayed ends. "That should keep the other wires dead until we disconnect these two. When we have everything where we want it, we'll take this one apart."

"You heard her," said Luava to the rest. "Do as she said."

The room filled with sweat and thin metallic smoke as the women set to work with their colonial tools, stitching each cable into place.

"Chief?" said Angama, shuffling meekly up to her, "Maybe we shouldn't do this. This creature is looking more and more like... like something colonial."

"Impossible. If the colonials had built this, we would have heard of it."

"But Chief, there are different kinds of colonial. There were different nations of them-- dozens. Maybe hundreds."

"Once, maybe. But all the rest were wiped out in their war."

"That's not true! We don't know what happened to the other nations. All we know is what happened to our colonials. For all we know--"

"That's it!" said one of the crewwomen. "That's all of the wires. Should we disconnect the safety line, Chief?"

Luava looked intensely down at Angama. "Do it."

Angama hesitated. "No... we don't know enough about this machine. I read once that colonial scientists spend years--"

"You are not a colonial!" Luava thundered. "You are a native! Now act like it and obey your chieftain!"

Angama looked around the room for support. Kilo stood straight, brave and loyal as always, and Halusha had shrunken inside herself. The crew was impassive.

Alone, Angama sighed and said, "Yes, Chieftain."

Crouching by the wires, Angama gripped them by the dark insulation and pulled them apart. They sparked with electricity, and the lights flickered.

Something heavy moved beneath them. Above andall around, great engines came to life.