Читать книгу Dubai 2050: City of Gold Survivors - Unforgiving Desert and Beyond. - Hassan Al Jabri - Страница 5

Dawn broke in the east, and its light spread out across the water. The sun lit Atta mountain, and all parts of it, from the summit to the shoreline, lay bathed in the red glow.

The first light fell on three figures, still as corpses, who lay half-in and half-out of the surf. Beside them and around them lay a scree of metal parts.

Only the slow movement of their chests gave any sign that the three men yet lived; beyond that the only motion around them came from the rising and falling waves, and the wind- and wave- swept tatters of their clothing.

The first of the three to stir was Junior. His eyes snapped open suddenly, and then closed again; then he slowly lifted a hand to his eyes to sweep away the accumulated sand and salt. His eyes opened again, and he attempted to raise himself, but his exhausted body would not comply.

His arms seemed to have no strength, and the world seemed to spin under his body, making it impossible for him to keep himself upright.

Finally Junior managed to sit up. By now the sun had made it halfway over the horizon, and he swept his bleary eyes over the shore and the sea, looking for landmarks, looking for anything familiar. He noticed first Zed and Azim lying close by, and then the metal debris around him, the remains, apparently, of Leo’s boards.

Now Junior remembered: after a few hours’ operation, the heat they generated had begun to tear the boards apart; there had been a few more hours of terrified flying as the boards decayed and their legs nearly failed from fatigue, and then—a shadow rising before them and a last panicked sensation of falling as the boards broke into pieces. They had not been built to fly so far, but they had been built well enough to fly them to safety.

But where were they? With difficulty, Junior got himself to his knees so that he could survey the shore. As he moved, he heard Zed and Azim stirring, and soon all three of them were up and looking out on this strange territory.

Finally, Junior rose to his feet. He nearly overbalanced as he did so; he stumbled like one drunk. But then, shading his eyes, he looked up and down the shore.

“Do you see anything, Junior?”

Zed was trying to stand now, but he couldn’t seem to find his balance, and his legs seemed unwilling to support him. “Junior?”

Junior did not respond. He was staring south along the shoreline.

Azim groaned as he struggled to get to his feet.

“Has he found something?”

Zed called again.

“Junior?” At last, his legs shaking a little, he stood up.

He looked south in the direction Junior had turned—and he nearly lost his balance again, stumbling forward for a few paces until he could hold himself upright.

Beyond a narrow place in the beach, where a ridge of the land sloped down quickly and almost into the water itself, Zed saw the edge of an enormous structure. He staggered toward it, his mind instantly filled with images of the underwater building he had explored just a day ago, and Junior followed him, with Azim finally struggling to his feet and following them both in turn.

As they approached, the full size of the structure became apparent: They walked around it and found that it was two stories tall and about half a kilometer long.

The roof curved down around the building like the edge of a seashell, and under the tarnish left on it from years underwater and exposed to the elements Zed could see that the roof had once been made of gold, or a metal that was meant to mimic gold. For Zed could tell the structure wasn’t new-built. It was covered with the dried remains of algae and other sea life, and sand had drifted high on its seaward side.

Zed stared at the structure, certain it had been built by the same people whose drowned homes he had explored. His first urge—overriding even his hunger and thirst—was to enter and explore: if he did so, he knew, he would find more evidence of his origins. But as he and his companions circled the building, they discovered that every door, every window, every gap left by the elements within a twice a man’s height of the ground had been sealed off with scrap metal.

“I wonder where we are.”

Azim placed a hand on one of the structure’s walls.

“Do you think we’ve made it to the place where they build such things?”

Zed had no answer for this: it seemed fantastic—he was sure they had flown west last night, as much as possible in the direction in which Atta must lie, but still his heart leapt at the possibility that they had found a new land, the home of those whose skeletons he had discovered.

And then Junior dashed Zed’s hopes.

“We’re home.” He pointed inland.

“If that isn’t Atta, I must be dreaming. We’ve just come around the northern point.”

Zed looked up: sure enough, by coming around the edge of the ridge, they had brought a familiar skyline into view: there lay the summit of Atta, with its crown of dark clouds. And lower he could see the un-mistakable profile of Chen’s lightning farm.

“Atta?” Zed couldn’t believe it.

Neither could Azim.

“But, this thing is here. And—“ Azim swept his hand southward “—look at all those palm trees. The eastern shore doesn’t have that many.”

“The land doesn’t lie.”

Junior shook his head, then turned away from the building.

“If we head this way, we should eventually come around to the harbor. If we don’t, then we’ll know we’re somewhere else.”

Junior began walking away. After a moment, Zed followed him, and Azim did the same. They had not gone far, however, before Azim called everyone’s attention to something on the hillside above them.

They stopped to look.

“Will you tell me what that is?” Azim asked.

“An animal like that was never at Atta.”

Junior let a laugh out of his parched throat. “There is one now.”

Zed said nothing. The thing was like a goat, but taller, with a weirdly expressive face that briefly swung in their direction at the end of a long and muscular neck, and then swung back to the thick bushes where it had begun to graze.

At first Zed thought it must be carrying a pack or was perhaps bearing the carcass of another animal, or its young. But as he studied it he realized that it bore two humps on its back, like a deformity, and yet it seemed perfectly mobile, even graceful, as it left off grazing and moved on.

“I’m getting a closer look.”

Zed scrambled up the hill, his weariness overcome by his curiosity. The others followed. The animal, hearing their approach, picked up speed and began to make its way, far more easily than Zed or his companions—up the steep hillside until it reached a path about twenty meters above the beach. It then began to trot farther up the hill. Zed started to jog after it.

The next thing Zed knew, his legs had gone out from under him. He rolled downhill a few times, struggling to get up, but his ankles were bound together. When he finally came to a stop, he saw Azim and Junior lying in the path below him, also bound at the ankles.

Zed lifted his legs: just above his feet a cable had wound around them several times, a cable attached to two fist-sized metal spheres that lay next to each other just above his right heel. He reached down to separate the spheres and untangle himself, but they wouldn’t come apart: some sort of magnetism had glued them together, and no matter how hard he strained, they wouldn’t move.

“Those things won’t separate until I let them.”

Zed looked up: a young man, tall and thin, was jogging down the path towards him; behind him was another man of about the same age, but heavy-set and shorter.

“Then release me. Who are you people?”

Zed tried to get his feet under him, but his fatigue and the bonds made this impossible.

“Say please.”

The first of the strangers had reached him now, careful not to come too close, but close enough to look Zed in the face.

“If you’re going to be guests at Atta, you’ll need to learn some manners.”

“Guest? I live here.” Zed growled in his frustration.

“Let me go.”

The young man crouched down to get a better look at Zed: Zed got his first look at him. He had red hair and pale skin, and his mouth had curled into a smile.

“Nice try, but there aren’t so many of us that I wouldn’t recognize someone.”

Then his smile faded, his eyes narrowed, and he studied Zed’s face for a moment.

“Lex.” The young man’s companion had reached Junior and Azim.

“I think I recognize these two.”

“What?”

“These two. I think I recognize them.”

“Who are you?” Azim’s voice was ragged with fatigue and frustration.

“Where did you come from?”

“Keep quiet.” By now Lex was standing by Azim and Junior; he crouched to get a better look at them.

“Amad, you’re right. I think I recognize them as well. The other one, too, maybe.”

“If you recognize us, let us go.”

Junior flailed against the path, beating the ground with his heels. “We live here.”

Zed let himself relax, trying to appraise the situation. But relaxing proved difficult. Something was wrong. He was home, he felt certain, and yet something told him that he was still lost. And he felt, too, an apprehension growing that he had encountered one more barrier against finding out the origins of Atta.

Had the elders encountered obstacles like this? Had they given up the search because of them?

Over near Azim and Junior, Lex stood up again.

“I’m telling you, Amad, it’s the strangest thing. They do look familiar.”

“Amad? Amad?” Junior’s voice sounded suddenly full of concern. Zed raised his head to look at him.

“Amad? That chubby kid who always got in the way?” Junior’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but speech had failed him.

“Amad?” Azim spoke now.

“Lex?” His eyes went wide.

“This is Junior. I’m Azim. We were at the school at the same time, but—“

“Junior? Azim?” Amad and Lex looked at each other.

Then Lex strode over to Zed. He was frowning deeply, his forehead wrinkled.

“What is your name?”

Zed met his eyes. “My name?” He managed to sit up.

“My name is—“ Zed paused then, and, gathering his strength, he kicked at Lex’s legs with his bound feet. In an instant, he was sitting on Lex’s chest, his left hand pinning down Lex’s right arm, Zed’s right hand tightening Lex’s throat.

“Zed?” Azim stared at him, clearly distressed by Zed’s tactics. But Junior had followed suit, knocking Amad off his feet and restraining the young man in his powerful arms.

Zed’s frustration and apprehension had suddenly erupted into rage. There was too much strangeness, too much mystery, for him to wait for things to work themselves out politely.

“You, you call yourself Lex. Where are we?”

“You’re strangling him. Let him go.” Amad grunted, but could not free himself from Junior. Lex was punching at Zed’s back with his free hand, but Zed ignored the blows.

“Answers.”

“This is Atta. We’re from Atta.” Amad gave up struggling. “What more do you need to know?”

“Do you know him, Junior?” Lex’s pale face was turning red; his punches were growing weaker.

“I know Amad,” Junior said.

“He lives at the upper end of the village. He used hang out at Chen’s until Junior chased him off. I know Lex, too. But they’re kids.”

“You’re that Junior?” Amad turned to stare at him.

“You’ve been gone five years.”

Azim called out now. “Zed, let him breathe.”

Zed looked down: Lex’s chest had begun to convulse, straining for air. Zed let go of his throat and pinned his other arm. Lex began coughing, fighting to breathe once more.

“Zed?” Amad “The Zed who went to sea? The Zed who died?”

Zed shook his head. Five years? What did this mean?

“Let us go. Untie us.”

“Lex has the button.”

Lex was breathing more easily now. He choked out, “Let go of my arm.”

Zed released his right arm, and Lex reached into a pouch that hung from his shoulder. Zed heard a soft click, and suddenly the balls binding his ankles sprung apart, the cable going slack.

He stood and unwound the cable from his legs, his mind reeling from all that he had just heard.

When they were all free, Azim was the first to speak.

“I recognize you both. But two days ago you were kids. What happened to you?”

Amad had gone to help Lex, offering him a bottle of water.

“Nothing. We got older. You two have been gone five years.”

“Two days,” Zed felt a touch of his rage returning.

Why was no one making any sense? “We set out two. Days. Ago.”

“You set out five years ago. Trust me.”

Lex had risen to his feet, and was now leaning on Amad.

“Was there this kind of growth on Atta when you left? Did you not see that thing down there on the point?”

Neither Zed nor his companions said anything. Zed had finally recognized Lex, subtracting five years from the tall young man before him and seeing the teenaged boy, not fully grown but still tall for his age, who had helped uncouple the cables from his house’s lightning rod. He had made a show of standing balanced on the top of the rod, showing off, showing off for Nera.

Zed turned and began to throw himself down the slope toward the beach.

“Where are you going?”

Lex hurried until he was even with Zed.

“You don’t need to break your neck, you know. You can just take the path to the village.”

Zed kept stumbling down the hill. Behind him he heard Amad ask, “Where have you people been? Were you hiding?”

But Junior and Azim didn’t answer either, and soon all five of them were on the beach, jogging toward the point where the shore bent westward toward the village.

Lex tried again. “There’s a lot of growth ahead. The path is much better.”

Zed kept jogging. For a while no one spoke, but then Azim asked, “What was that weird animal?”

Amad’s voice answered him. “That thing you were chasing? We call it two-humps. They started appearing three years ago. At first there were two, and then three more since then. We had heard there was a new one and came out to catch it this morning. They’re great for moving heavy things—Hey! You can’t get through there.”

Zed had come up short in front of a pile of rocks, now overgrown with shrubs—that blocked the beach. Lex jogged up beside him.

“I tried to tell you.” He pointed up the hill.

“The path is the only good way to the village now. If you want to go home, you’ll have to go up.”

Without a word, and without waiting for the others, Zed began to clamber up the hill once more. His body was moving almost without him willing it now: he was caught up in his fears and the strangeness of it all—to have come back into a landscape so familiar, and yet so alien, to see these two youths (he had placed Amad now, too, and could see him in his mind’s eye, a chubby boy who had always been full of questions) grown into men overnight.

What had happened? What had he done to his friends? And Nera? He had reached the path now, and the thought of her spurred him to walk faster.

Lex came up beside him again.

“Your father thinks you’re dead. You understand that, don’t you?”

Zed had no words to form an answer. He wanted to see the village, to see Hood and Marta in the flesh, to take Nera’s hands again, before the entire scene shimmered and evaporated like a dream.

“You don’t think you should slow down? People will think you’re a ghost.”

“Be quiet!”

Zed had not meant to shout, but the words came out in an angry bark. Who was this boy to tell him how he should return? With a shake of his head, Lex fell behind. Five more minutes of jogging along this path brought the men to a rise overlooking the village: here Zed finally stopped, taking in all that he could see.