The Black Sentry (15 page)

22

Daman
did not know what to do. There was no way they could possibly explain this. Mykah had said their former friendship would not stand in the way of his duty to the Sentry. No matter how much Brita protested, he would turn them all in. Or at least he and Xander.

H
e heard a shrill, high-pitched noise directly behind him. He was so startled he jumped into the air.

Xander
was whistling, the prearranged signal to tell Brita they were still in here. Xander had the talent of whistling in such a way that it sounded entirely natural, like one of the birdcalls often heard in the village.

Listening at the door, he
heard Brita’s voice. She was trying to prevent Mykah from going inside the cottage.

He and Xander huddled by
the window. It had a single glass pane that could be raised.

Slowly, carefully, Xander opened the window
. It squeaked at one point and he stopped. Brita’s voice rose in volume. She had heard the squeak and was doing her best to drown it out.

Xander opened the window the rest of the way, but at that instant,
Mykah turned around.

They ducked out of sight just an instant before he would have seen them
. What would they do now? From where Mykah stood, he could see both the front door and the only window. They had no way to get out.

“I can’
t let you leave me again, Brita,” he heard Mykah say through the open window. “We’re promised.”

“I never promised anything,” she replied
. “Others promised for me, something they had no right to do.”

“You speak so strangely, Brita
. I don’t understand what’s happened to you.” His voice became firmer. “But I will not let you go. If you attempt it, I’ll sound the alarm and call in the Sentry.”

A
long pause ensued. “I promise you’ll see me again. I can’t promise I’ll change my mind. But I can promise I’ll see you again.”

His voice softened
. “How can I believe you?”

“You
must believe me,” she replied.

He
heard a soft murmuring noise, but no more words. He couldn’t resist looking. Carefully, he edged his head out the window...

She was kissing him.

In the embrace, she’d managed to turn Mykah away from the window. She saw his head poke out and, with the hand wrapped behind Mykah’s back, waved for them to go.

He
didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled quietly out the window. Despite their best efforts, they were not entirely silent. Mykah didn’t seem to notice. Apparently he had other matters on his mind.

T
hey climbed out of the house with their acquisition and moved stealthily toward their prearranged meeting point.

*****

Daman waited impatiently for Brita to return. After about ten minutes, she appeared in the darkened alleyway. “Did you get it?”

He
held up the uniform so she could see. “We did.”

“Excellent
. I couldn’t keep Mykah away any longer. I tried everything imaginable, but he’s very stubborn.” She held the uniform up to the light. “With this, no one will question us inside the Arena.”

“But how will we get there in the first place
? During the Ritual of Execution, the Black Sentry will be everywhere. We can’t simply walk through the streets. Someone will recognize us.”

“I know how
to get to the Arena without being seen,” Xander said.

He looked at Xander
incredulously. “How would you possibly—” He stopped himself. “But Sentry will be on every street corner, on every road—”

“They will not be in the tunnel.”

“What tunnel?”

“There’s a tunnel
leading from the Arena to a place north of the village. Or may be. There was a tunnel in Merrindale. I’ve been told every village has one.”

“I’ve n
ever heard of this.”

“It’
s a closely guarded secret.”

“Then how would
—”

“How would a mere slave know?
” Xander’s lips became thin and tight. “A slave would know because the slaves are the ones who do all the hard work that makes the Sentinel’s ‘miracles’ occur.”

He
bit his tongue.  “But how can it stay secret if slaves know?”

“What harm is there in telling a few slaves
? After all, slaves are not even allowed to speak unless spoken to.” He paused. “What those fools don’t realize is that if they tell one slave, they tell us all.”

He
didn’t understand what that meant, but he had more pressing questions on his mind. “What’s the purpose of these tunnels?”

“Have you never wondered how the Sentinel’s men arrange those amazing disappearances when villagers are exiled or executed
? Here one minute, gone the next?”

He
remembered the latest example, when Mister Anton was sentenced at the Festival only a few days before. “We are told that the Sentinel’s power—”

Xander rolled his eyes
. “They drop through a hole in the floor of the Arena and are spirited away underground.”

“A tunnel,” Brita echoed
. “Of course. It’s obvious, once you know.”

“There’s a platform r
aised and lowered by a pulley. It makes people appear or disappear through the hole in the floor. After that, they’re hustled out of the village through the tunnel. Never to be seen again.” He paused. “But if we can find it, the tunnel could be used to spirit us
into
the Arena.”

*****

Taking care not to be seen, Daman and his friends returned to the village wall and climbed back out into the forest. They would have to wait until daylight to search for the tunnel. As always, they were wary of Creepers. They found climbable trees and nestled down, after agreeing they would take turns keeping watch.

He
volunteered for the first watch. Brita and Xander settled in. He soon heard sounds that told him Xander was asleep. Apparently Xander could sleep anywhere, almost instantaneously.

Brita,
however, was still awake. He gazed at her soft face, her yellow hair illuminated by moonlight. “Did you change your mind?” he asked.

“About what?”

“About joining the Resistance. Helping the Old Man.”

“Of course not
. Why would you think that?”

He
looked away. “I thought perhaps you’d decided to stay with Mykah.”

“Why
? Because you saw me kissing him?”

“Well...”

“Daman, the only reason I kissed him was because you two fools got yourselves trapped in his cottage and couldn’t get out.”

“You shouldn’t call Xander a fool.”

“True. He hasn’t been stupid enough to ask if I’ve changed my mind.”

To hi
s surprise, Xander laughed. “Leave me out of this.” Apparently Xander was not as deep in sleep as he thought.

“You did not appear to be miserable while you were kissing him.”

“Well, the ruse wouldn’t have worked very well if I had, would it?”

“Most girls don’t go around
kissing boys they don’t like.”

“I kissed you, didn’t I?”

That stung. He wished he’d had the sense to keep his mouth closed. “Kissing seems to be one of your favorite tricks.”

“It’
s not my favorite anything,” she shot back. “But I have noticed that once the lips lock, a boy’s brain ceases functioning. That can be useful.”

“Would you two stop
already?” Xander said. “Sleep.”

“
Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, angry at the world.

“You’ve got no reason to
be rude to me,” Xander replied. “I didn’t kiss her.”

He
could feel his face burning. “As if she would ever kiss—” He bit off the end of the sentence, but not, he realized, in time.

Xander rolled over, his face set in stone
. “At first light, we must begin searching for the tunnel. Until then, I intend to sleep.”

And eventually, they did.

23

The tunnel was not as hard to find as Daman expected. So few people traveled between the villages, and so few knew about the existence of the tunnels, that great deception probably was not deemed necessary. A few fallen trees and leafy branches were strewn haphazardly across the entrance. Xander said it was much the same with the tunnel in Merrindale. Anyone looking for it would be able to find it. The problem was, few knew to look for it.

The tunnel was small, but large enough for them to pass through on hands and knees
. It was cramped and dirty, and at times he had trouble breathing. He was surprised at how strongly it affected him. Sweat dripped from his brow and he felt a strange clutching sensation in his chest. He had never been in such a cramped place.

After they
crawled a short distance, his throat went dry and he found he couldn’t move. He felt as if the walls of the tunnel were closing in on him, as if he would be buried alive, deep under the earth. He knew these thoughts were not rational. But he could not banish them. He had to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from screaming.

“What’s wrong?”
Brita asked.

“N–N
othing.”

“Why aren’t you moving?”

His tongue felt so thick he could barely speak. “I–don’t know.”

He felt the touch of Brita’s hand on his arm
. It sent an electric charge through his already tremulous body. “I know,” she said quietly. “I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I don’t know what’s happening to us. But I know this–we have to keep moving.”

He
knew she was right. He was behind Xander but before Brita, and there was not nearly enough room in the tunnel for her to pass him. If he didn’t move, Xander would be on his own. And he couldn’t possibly succeed by himself.

The Old Man would be executed
.

He
took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and forced himself to crawl. He didn’t need his eyes. There were no wrong turns he could take. He tried to imagine wide-open spaces, meadows, wheat fields, forests. Anything to take his mind off where he really was and what he was really doing.

As they
traveled, Xander explained that although it was not known by most citizens, the Arena was actually a two-level structure. On top was the part everyone knew—the center stage where the ceremonies were held and the gallery where the villagers sat. But beneath that was a second level, an interconnected series of rooms and corridors used by the Black Sentry and a selected group of slaves. The tunnel would bring them to those rooms.

At long last, they
detected a tiny dot of light in the distance.

“I think we’re getting to the end,” Xander said.

He had never heard sweeter words.

They crawled out, pushed through a hinged wooden door, and closed the passageway
. They were in one of the lower rooms of the Arena.

Quickly, they walked
toward the center, Brita and Daman in front, Xander in back. It was not long before they encountered others.

The Sentry
in the first room gaped in amazement. “The traitor!”

Two others
jumped to their feet. “Seize him.”

“That will not be necessary.
” Before anyone could do anything, Xander pushed Brita and Daman forward. “I have everything under control. Make way.”

Xander wore the Black Sentry uniform they had liberated from
Mykah the night before. Although he had never before worn anything other than a slave’s simple costume, he seemed entirely natural in it. The hood covered the protrusion on his left temple. He’d tied Brita and Daman’s arms loosely behind their backs and tethered to a rope Xander held firmly in his hand. To all appearances, they were two prisoners in Xander’s custody.

T
he Sentry eased back into their chairs. “Where did you find them?” the first Sentry asked.

“In a barn outside the village.
” He pushed them harshly through the room, giving the impression that he had no time to stop and talk.

“But
—how?”

Xander inflated his chest
. “This is a matter of critical importance to the Sentinel’s security. I will explain to the Acolyte himself and no one else.”

“Of course
. Proceed.”

One of the men in the back leaned forward
. “But the Acolyte is engaged at the moment. The Ritual of Execution is underway.”

Xander snapped
. “Do you think that I don’t know that?”

“Of course, of
course. Wait here while I make arrangements with the Captain of the Guard—”

“
Are you mad?” He couldn’t help but marvel at how well Xander handled himself. His imitation of an arrogant Sentry was perfect. He’d undoubtedly suffered many years of abuse at their hands. “Do you think the Acolyte wants me to
wait
?” His eyes locked onto the Sentry. “Do you think he’ll be happy when he learns you’ve prevented me from informing him that I’ve captured the traitor and his accomplice?”

“Well
—no—”

“I
f he learns now, before the ceremony is over, he can announce it to the people of Clovis. Imagine the joy and relief that will result. Would you spoil the Acolyte’s opportunity to proclaim this glorious news?”

“
Of course not.” The Sentry nervously stepped aside. “Come this way. We’ll lead you to the antechamber beneath the Arena. We’ll be able to signal the Acolyte before he concludes the ceremony.”

“Ver
y well,” Xander said. “Lead on. And be quick about it.”

He
concentrated all his powers on suppressing his smile and playing the part of the prisoner.

They wer
e inside.

*****

Daman and the others were led through a maze of rooms and corridors. He tried to take note of their route so he would be able to find his way out later, but he soon became hopelessly confused.

They pas
sed more Sentry along the way, and each time the reaction was a condensed form of what they’d received from the first Sentry they met. First, seeing the supposed prisoners, they’d gape in amazement. Then, seeing Xander and being persuaded by his brash, confident manner, they’d step aside and let the party pass.

At last they arri
ved at the antechamber beneath the staging area of the Arena. It was a large round room filled with wooden rafters and support beams. He felt disoriented. He’d never seen a round room, a room without corners.

In
the center he spotted a burly Sentry who stood before some sort of mechanism. He knew it was a pulley, but he had only the barest glimmer of how it worked. A wooden handle allowed a gear to be moved in a circular direction. A chain attached to the gear rose to the ceiling, passed through some interconnected wheels, then connected to a wooden plank fitting neatly into a hole in the ceiling of the room—which was the floor of the Arena.

Even though he
did not perfectly understand how it worked, its purpose was obvious. As the man turned the handle on the gear, the platform would move. A man standing upon it would be raised or lowered. Add a cloud of smoke and this explained how traitors “disappeared.”

The Old Man was not there
. Apparently, he had already been raised to the surface of the Arena to await his sentence.

“Wait here,” their Sentry
-escort said. “The Acolyte will return soon.”

“Very well,” Xander snapped back
. “I want all extraneous slaves and Sentry removed from the premises.”

“But
—”

“There are no buts,” Xander said, cutting him off
. “This is a matter of vital importance. I will not take any unnecessary risks.”

Reluctantl
y, the Sentry gave the nod, and all but a skeleton crew of slaves left the antechamber.

He and Brita
sat on a bench that allowed them to see and hear through a barred vent in the ceiling.

The Acolyte led
the Celebration. Beside him, they saw the Old Man.

He was still alive
.

They could also see that both he and the Acolyte were surroun
ded by a Black Sentry platoon. There was no chance they could snatch the Old Man without being seen.

T
he Acolyte conducted the Ceremony of Passage. All the villagers who had turned fifty during the past year were gathered together, honored, and granted passage. The Acolyte anointed them with the unction of transcendence, which symbolized their removal from village life and guaranteed them passage to Balaveria, the Sentinel’s paradise. Their jobs would be assigned to younger men passing their Winnowing, while they were assured an eternity of pleasure and contentment.

Down below, Xander remained standing, pacing, making a great show of gu
arding his prisoners. But he noticed that the Sentry who had led them here did not depart. Perhaps he was not foolish enough to leave strangers so close to the Acolyte. Or perhaps he wanted to stay nearby so he could claim some credit in the capture of the prisoners. For whatever reason, he remained.

That was a problem, one they would have to deal with before they could try anything.

Through the vent in the ceiling, he saw that the Acolyte had finished the Ceremony of Passage but was not proceeding to the Ritual of Execution. Apparently he had some unscheduled business on his agenda.

“Children of the Sentinel,” the Acolyte chanted, his arms outstretched, “we live in troubled times
. I feel your unease. I know your unhappiness and fear. I know you worry about the enemies of the Sentinel, those who would destroy the Laws and Ways that we good citizens cherish.”

“Long live the Sentinel,” the people in the Arena shouted.

“Rest assured that the Sentinel cannot be defeated. He cannot be overcome. The Laws and Ways are the true ways. The only ways.”

“Long live the Sentinel,” the same voices chanted.

“And yet, the Sentinel knows you are troubled. He knows you sleep with fear in your hearts. And so he has sent you...this.”

In the antechamber, two slaves loaded something onto the moving plank
. It was at least twice the size of a man, but Daman could not make out what it was because it was cloaked. After it was in position, one of the slaves turned the gear handle and raised the draped object up to the Arena. From vents on all sides of the opening, an eerie orange smoke emerged.

“The Sentinel has been served for years by the Black Sentry,” the Acolyte continued, “and they have served him well
. But many of you have asked if there should not be more protection for the Sentinel in these troubled times. And so I introduce to you a new policing force, one certain to protect us all from the enemies of the Sentinel—such as he who stands before you now awaiting his punishment.”

He grasped the bottom of the cloak
. “Behold! The Silver Sentryman!”

The green cloak slid off, and along with the res
t of the village he viewed for the first time what the Acolyte had unveiled. He did not know what it was–except that it was the most hideous, most frightening, evil-looking creature he had ever seen.

It was silver, from head to foot
. Sunlight reflected off the shimmering surface, making it difficult at first to get a clear view. It was shaped like a man, a tall man, and yet it was clearly something else. It had a face, although that might be the wrong word. Its features were square and flat, unreal, suggesting human features but at the same time being nothing like them. It reminded him more of a Construct than a man. The fact that it was so clearly not human but so unnaturally simulated human features, the cold eyes, and the huge size made it terrifying.

The Acolyte boomed forth in his most dramatic voice
. “Come forth, Silver Sentryman!”

The hideous
object on the platform moved.

The crowd gasped
. There was a horrifying noise—part creaking, part whirring, part grinding. It set his teeth on edge and raised goose pimples on his skin.

One heavy foot lifted, then slammed down on the earth, making the ground shudder
. The other foot did the same, then over and over again, gaining speed.

Thi
s unnatural creature could walk.

“Stop!” the Acolyte commanded, and the creature immediately obeyed.

The Acolyte turned proudly to face the crowd. “Children of the Sentinel, see what your kind and loving Master has sent to protect you. There is no escape from the Silver Sentrymen. They do not tire. They do not disobey. They cannot be fooled by trickery or lies. They are invulnerable to the weaknesses of the flesh. They can perform all the functions of the Black Sentry and more, but have none of their imperfections. They are unstoppable. Nothing can escape their control.”