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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

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3
The Enemy Strikes

C
hief Ali Shareef was an impressive man, tall and stern of face. He wore a white robe, as did most of the men that gathered in the council to greet the Seven Sleepers. The Sleepers themselves were curious about their host. They had been introduced by Abdul and were aware that some of the desert people were suspicious.

“I'm not sure we're all that welcome here,” Sarah whispered to Josh. She was sitting beside him in front of a group of elders and wondering what would come next.

“I guess all they have to do is look at Jake,” Josh answered almost grimly, “and see that some of us are a little suspicious too. The chief is getting up. I guess he's made up his mind about us.”

Chief Ali rose to his feet and focused his dark eyes on the young people. “We welcome you to our home,” he said in a deep voice. “My servant Abdul has told us that you have come to help.” A frown swept across his dusky face, and he shook his head in despair. “Indeed,” he said sadly, “we are in desperate need.”

One of the elders, a short muscular man with a bristling beard, spoke up. “Indeed, Chief Ali, we are in need of friends. But I fail to see how these—these children can be of any help.”

Another elder spoke. “I agree. What we need is a host of mighty armed men. Only by force will we be able to combat the Winged Raiders.”

A murmur of approval swept over the elders, and Josh felt a moment of despair. He waited until the men had
spoken, then rose to his feet. “May I speak, Chief Ali?” he asked. When the chief nodded, he said, “We have a saying in our world, 'The race is not always to the swift.' I realize that we seem to be useless to you, but Goél sometimes uses the weakest to overcome the strongest. We have seen him do mighty things when all looked impossible. All we ask is that you let us remain with you for a time.”

“You're welcome and will be our guests,” Ali said. A smile tugged at the corners of his thin lips, and he added, “We had hoped that Goél himself would come to our aid.”

Jake piped up, 'That's what I say! And until he comes, I don't believe we can do business.”

“Will you shut up?” Reb Jackson whispered, digging his elbow into Jake's side. “We've got problems enough without you making it harder.”

Chief Ali, however, seemed amused by the stocky Jake's truculence. “My young friend, you are outspoken. That is not always good, but at least we know where you stand.” He swept the Sleepers with his eye saying, “Be our guests. We will learn from you, and perhaps you will learn from us.”

* * *

For the next few days the Sleepers had what amounted to a vacation. Reb, more than anyone else, had a blast! The desert people were horsemen, and their horses were strong and swift. They were amazed to find that the young man who wore the outlandish hat was as good a rider as many among their own people. And they were amused at the use of his lariat.

The first morning Reb had demonstrated his skill by dropping a noose over the head of a half-broken pony.

Abdul gasped with surprise. “We have never seen such!”

A murmur of approval went up, and Reb found himself giving lariat lessons each morning and became very popular.

The girls also found themselves the object of much attention. Abigail, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, worked her usual havoc among the young men. They could not take their eyes off her. Abbey, of course, loved the attention and spent most of her time doing her hair in different ways and experimenting with new kinds of makeup. The young girls of the tribe practically fawned over her as she instructed them in the art of beauty.

“I think it's disgusting!” Sarah exclaimed, slumping down beside Josh. “All she does is primp! Can't you say something to her, Josh?”

“What would I say?” Josh demanded. “She's a girl, isn't she? All girls act like that—primping and putting on makeup and worrying about this dress or that.”

“Well!” Sarah gasped. “I'm glad to learn what you really think about me, Josh Adams!” She flounced away, and Josh stared after her.

Dave, who had been sitting across from him, said, “Just an old charmer—that's all you are, Josh. You ought to write a book on how to be a Prince Charming.”

“Will you shut up, Dave?” Josh snapped. “I don't know what to do with them.”

One thing that fascinated the Sleepers was the camels. They were all given riding lessons by Adbul, but none of them did very well. Reb decided that you had to treat camels firmly, just as you treat a horse, and when he went up to his first camel he gave the bridle a jerk.

The camel turned calmly around, looked at him out of soulful eyes, and then spit what looked like tobacco juice right into Reb's face.

Abigail laughed in sudden amusement, and the others could not help themselves. The sight of the vile liquid
running down Reb's face amused them all. He'd always been so capable, and now this.

Reb gasped and wiped the mess from his face. He took his hat off and stared at it. He looked around at his friends, who were laughing, and for a moment they thought he would plow into them.

But he had a sense of humor. “Give me your handkerchief, Sarah,” he said. Drying his face, he looked at his white Stetson. “At least I didn't get none of that camel spit on my hat!”

They enjoyed the food after a fashion. Mostly it was some form of mutton. The desert people kept large flocks of sheep and herds of goats. One item at every meal was goat's milk, and Wash, for one, couldn't stand the stuff. “What I wouldn't give for a good ol' Dr. Pepper!” he moaned.

“You won't find none of those in this place,” Reb said. “I've got to admit, they know how to do a good thing with this here sheep. Although I'd sure like to have a good hamburger!”

On the third day, Josh had a council with the Seven. “I think we've got to do something,” he said. They were all sitting inside one of the large black tents on rich and luxurious rugs that covered the sand. They were really comfortable, and it was a great deal like camping out every night.

“What do you mean, Josh—‘do something?'” Sarah inquired.

“I've been waiting for Goél to appear and give us some kind of directions—”

“That's what I say!” Jake broke in. “And until he does, we better not try anything.”

“I don't agree with that,” Dave Cooper broke in. He was lounged back, tall, athletic, and handsome, but now
he came to a sitting position. “We've got to do something! Why, we might stay here for a year!”

“That's right,” Wash said. “Now that we're here, I say let's do something.” He looked at Josh and asked, “What?”

Josh was irritated. “How should I know, Wash? All I know is that we've got to do something.”

Sarah said, “I know one thing we need to do and that's to see if we're really fitted for long travel. If we do have to make any long trips, I'm not sure how we'd take it.”

Josh smiled at her. “That's right, Sarah. I'll tell you what—I'll ask Abdul if we can make a trek. Just to see how we'd do in the desert.”

“Well, I hope we go on horses instead of camels,” Reb complained. “I can't get a handle on those hairy critters!"

But Reb didn't get his wish.

Abdul agreed at once to lead the Sleepers on a “maneuver,” as Josh called it, and the next morning they started out early. All morning long they bucked the heavy winds that whipped across the desert. They never quite got used to those winds, which blew constantly—sometimes softly, sometimes enough to almost tear away their clothes, but always blowing.

They traveled all day and then reached a pleasant oasis with palm trees and bubbling springs.

That night around the campfire Abdul entertained them with stories about his people. They had a long and honorable history. But finally he shook his head, saying, “We were a great people until the Winged Raiders came. Since then we've been like no more than frightened sheep.”

“Where do they come from? Who
are
they?” Sarah asked.

Abdul picked up a stick and began to draw in the sand at his feet. “No one knows. They appeared when I was a boy, and they've been growing stronger ever since.”

“I'd like to see one of them critters,” Reb said. “Can't imagine a man being able to fly. They must not be men at all,” he said. “I think they must be a cross between a bird and an ape of some kind.”

They went to sleep rolled in their blankets and the next morning went across the desert again. The sand dunes rolled, white sand almost blinded them at times, and the wind blew. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when Abdul suddenly drew his camel to a halt. “Look there!” he cried out.

Josh, who was right behind him, pulled his camel to one side. They were in a part of the desert that formed a deep depression. At the bottom of it lay a camp by a stream. Tents dotted the sand, and Abdul said, “That is one of the neighboring tribes. They are friendly. Come, and we will let you meet them.”

He started down the slope, slipping and sliding, for it was very steep. Bob Lee held on to his camel, leaning back as he would on a bronc.

But Abigail was nearly shaken off and was whimpering with fear by the time they had reached the bottom. “I want off of this thing!” she cried out.

“It'll be all right,” Wash said. “Just hang on, Abbey. We'll be—” he broke off and suddenly looked up. “What's that?”

The Sleepers, caught by his voice, looked up, and Abdul gasped. “It's the Winged Raiders!” he said. “They're attacking the camp!”

Josh squinted against the brightness of the sun. They were about two hundred yards from the camp, and he could see overhead what seemed to be nothing more than black dots. As he watched, however, the dots became larger, looking like monstrous birds. “What are they?” he whispered to Abdul. “What are they doing?”

Abdul's voice was subdued. “They are attacking the camp—see, the men are coming out to do battle.”

The Sleepers watched as some of the desert people came out armed with swords. A few had bows and arrows. All were looking up, and even from where they stood, the Sleepers could here the cries of wives and children—high piercing cries of fear.

And then Josh got his first look at the Winged Raiders they'd heard so much about. They were far enough away so that they did not attract the Raiders' attention, yet close enough to see. Josh stared in shock as one of them suddenly plunged out of the sky. It was a strange sight that made him gasp. What he saw was a strong muscular form, a coppery-skinned young man with a fierce face. In one hand he held a bow. Across his chest were twin straps that crossed. At his side hung a quiver of arrows.

But the most amazing thing was the huge wings that spread out seemingly fifteen feet. They were like the wings of a gigantic hawk or eagle! They did not beat the air but seemed to catch the breeze. Josh watched the Winged Raider shift his body slightly, which caused him to swerve in the wind. He understood then that these winged ones were gliding rather than flying.

Sarah gasped as the fierce flying warrior loosed an arrow. It pierced the chest of one of the desert people, who fell to the ground and lay still. Other Winged Raiders were dropping out of the sky, loosing their arrows.

“They don't have a chance!” Reb yelled. “We've got to go help them!”

Abdul reached out and grabbed the young man with a steely grasp. “We can do nothing,” he said. “They would kill us, just as they are killing my brothers!”

The Sleepers stood there, helplessly watching, and soon it was over. Many of the men lay dead. The Winged Raiders had swooped to the ground and picked up some of
the children and young people, then caught the breeze and soared back into the sky like huge birds. They mounted the rising wind currents, and Josh watched, his throat tight, until they became mere dots again, then disappeared.

“Where are they going?” he whispered.

Abdul pointed to a line of mountains that ringed the desert. They rose high in the air, though they were far away. “They are going there,” he said quietly. “To the Citadel. That is where they come from.”

“The Citadel?” Josh stared at the mountains. “They're nothing but a bunch of murderers! Something's got to be done!”

Jake looked down at the bodies with feathered shafts sticking from their backs and chests. “Well, it's going to take more than us to do it,” he said. “Let's get out of here before we get butchered like that! Next time maybe you'll listen to me. We've got to wait for Goél.”

Josh shook his head but did not answer. He was thinking, though, as they turned and rode away from the camp.
Maybe Jake's right! Maybe we have jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.

4
Captured

T
he shock of seeing the Raiders attack and kill helpless tribesmen was enough to drive Josh into depression. For two days after they witnessed the terrible scene he said little to anyone. Sarah understood. She had known Josh for what seemed like forever. Even back in Oldworld they had been good friends. They had been together ever since they had come from their sleep capsule into the alien Nuworld.

“Josh, you've got to stop worrying about this,” Sarah said to him finally. He was sitting out away from the camp-fire, staring into the twilight as the sun went down. Sarah sat down beside him and put her hand on his arm. “I know you pretty well. You're very upset.”

Josh looked at her. In the fading light she looked very pretty, and he thought of how glad he'd been to find that she was one of the Sleepers, when he had first come to this place. He trusted her and was glad that he had a friend who could sense his moods.

“I'm worried,” he said. He picked up a handful of sand, held it up, and let it filter through his hand into the other, then tossed it to the ground and brushed his hand against his shirt. “Maybe Jake's right,” he said quietly. “Maybe we ought to just leave.”

Sarah sat quietly beside him as he talked, and when he fell silent, she said, “I'm just as uncertain as you are. I think we all are. It's one thing to have Goél appear and say, ‘Do this,' but it's another thing to go without any sprcific direction at all.”

“I can't understand it.” Josh frowned. “He's never left us alone this long. I just don't want to do the wrong thing.”

They talked for a long time, and finally Sarah said, “Josh, I can't tell you what to do, but I know I'd rather fail by trying to do something than give up. Nothing's worse than just quitting, is there?”

Josh looked at her and managed to smile. “A baseball player once said don't go down with a bat on your shoulder.” He straightened his back, and his mouth grew suddenly firm. “Well, that settles it. We may strike out, but we're going to go down swinging. Come on, let's go talk to the others—and you put a gag in Jake's mouth, would you? He's going to scream like blazes when I tell him what I want to do.”

Josh discovered he was right. As soon as he called the group together and said, “I have a plan,” Jake began to mutter. Josh overrode him by saying loudly, “I think we're going to have to go to the Citadel.”

Then Jake's voice reached a screech. “To the Citadel?” he almost screamed. “Have you lost your mind, Josh Adams? That's where those terrible Raiders are, don't you know that?”

“Of course I know that,” Josh said. “That's why we have to go there.”

“Why that's like—like—putting your head in a lion's mouth!” Jake sputtered.

Dave Cooper, however, came to Josh's aid. “You know, I've been thinking about the same thing, Josh,” he said. “Obviously we're not going to be able to help these people in a physical way. Why, it would take a machine gun to do anything against the Winged Raiders. If we are going to help Chief Ali and his people, it will have to be some other way.”

“I think you're right, Dave,” Sarah agreed. “It's going
to have to be a matter of the spirit, not of swords or bows and arrows.”

The argument went on for a long time, and at first it seemed that Jake would win. He swayed Reb and Wash. And Abigail, of course, didn't want to go anywhere.

Finally, however, Reb came over to Josh's way of thinking. “Why, shucks,” he said. “I guess we can't sit around these tents and ride camels the rest of our lives. If you want to go, Josh, I'm with you.”

Instantly Wash, who admired Reb greatly, said, “If you'll go, I'll go too!” Finally, everyone except Jake and Abbey agreed.

“You two will have to make your own decision,” Josh said. “If you want to stay here, that's fine.”

The next morning they met with Chief Ali. He listened, his face expressionless at first, then he broke out exclaiming, “Go to the Citadel? Why, it would be suicide!”

“Just what I've been trying to tell them.” Jake nodded.

“I know it sounds like that, Chief Ali,” Josh said quickly. “But we found out that sometimes the spirit is more powerful than the sword. We can't be of help to you as warriors. There has to be another way.”

Chief Ali's face reflected admiration. He clearly had not expected this and said so. But then he asked, “What will you do? You'll surely be captured and be made into slaves of the Raiders.”

“We never know what lies ahead, not even for a day,” Josh said thoughtfully. He looked around the group. “You remember how many times everything looked so dark and then somehow we came out of it? Goél's never misled us—oh, I know, Jake, Goél's not here, but somehow I feel that even though he's not with us, this is something he would have us do.”

Chief Ali still tried to dissuade them, but they'd made up their minds.

At dawn the next morning, they mounted the camels the chief had set apart, loaded with provisions. “It's a long journey,” he said. “I have made a map showing the water holes, but it will still be difficult for you.”

“Goél won't let us go astray,” Josh said with more firmness than he felt. “Come, we'd better get going.” He mounted the camel and hung on while it swayed to its feet. When the others were ready, he looked down and said, “Chief Ali, we will do our best to help your people.”

Chief Ali said, “May safety be with you, and may you achieve by the spirit what my people have not achieved by the sword.”

The little procession moved out. Soon the camp of the Desert People fell behind the dunes, and the Sleepers saw nothing ahead for miles but rolling hills of sand. Far off, the Citadel lifted its head into the sky. And even looking at it, Josh felt a moment of disquiet.

* * *

“My mouth's plumb dry,” Reb said. “Can't even work up a spit.”

They had traveled five days and the previous day had found no water. They'd consumed all of their store, which they carried in leather bags, and now all of them were suffering from thirst.

Josh looked overhead where the blue sky looked hard enough to strike a match on. The sun beat down white rays that struck almost like a blow. If it hadn't been for the wind, which had grown steadily stronger, they would have been cooked. “I think we'll find this oasis on the map before dark,” he said, trying to look hopeful.

Jake stared at him. His lips were cracked, and his skin was sunburned. “We'd better,” he said grimly. “We can't take another day of this.”

Josh urged the company on, and all afternoon they made their way across the shifting sands. The wind blew the sand against their faces, seeming to scrape their skin off at times, and their thirst grew worse. Something like fear began to creep into all of them.

Josh studied the map, but it was hopeless. If there were only some landmarks—trees, mountains, something, he thought in despair, but there was nothing except the Citadel, looming closer as they moved onward. It was still miles away, and even if they got there, Josh knew that there was no telling what danger might come then.

Late in the afternoon when the heat was beginning to grow less torrid, Josh was plodding along, his eyes on the Citadel ahead. It was a towering mountain, like a pile of rocks that seemed to go up to the sky. The sides were sheer. He thought,
Even if we get there, how will we climb up to the top?
He was numbed by the heat and by thirst and fatigue. Looking backward he saw that some of the Sleepers were nearly unconscious, hanging on with the last of their strength.

He turned to look at the Citadel, and as he did, Dave cried out, “Look out—Raiders—up there!”

Josh at once twisted around, and what he saw made his blood run cold. The sky seemed to be filled with winged men. They were so close he could see the glittering eyes. They'd come silently, floating on the winds, and it was too late to do anything about it.

“They're going to kill us!” Abbey screamed.

At once Josh said, “Get off the camels!"

They all slid to the ground.

“Hold your hands up like this!” Josh called. He held his hands over his head and cried out, “We come in peace!”

Some of the winged men had notched their arrows and taken aim, but at Josh's cry the largest Raider called out, “Hold!” in a powerful voice. He shifted his body and made a wide circle, circling the group of Sleepers. His
eyes were cold and glittering, Josh saw, but then the Raider cried out, “Take them! Do not kill them!”

At once the Raiders put away their bows, replaced their arrows, and came to the ground. Somehow, when they came their wings folded up neatly on their backs as an eagle's wings fold as he comes to his perch.

The leader landed lightly in front of Josh. He was very lean and not at all tall. There was not an ounce of surplus flesh on his body, although the muscles were clearly visible. He pulled a knife from his belt and said, “You're our prisoners. You're our slaves.”

Josh did not answer for a moment. He was studying the man carefully. He saw at once that the wings were not a part of the man's body. The crossed belts across the man's chest held the apparatus in place. There were, he saw, some sort of cables, tiny, almost invisible, that ran down the legs and fastened at the ankle. Other cables ran down the arms and fastened around the wrist. He did not understand but saw that the cables were attached to the wings. Somehow these people had learned how to create artificial flight in a way that men on earth had always dreamed. He remembered suddenly that Leonardo da Vinci had devised a set of wings but had never proven them to be practical.

The leader had spoken in the dialect used all over Nuworld and understood by all people. Josh had learned it when he first came and now answered, “We come in peace to speak to your leader.”

The Raider, who was dark complected and had a sneer on his face, laughed aloud. “The white one wants to speak to our leader!” he called out, and there was laughter among the other Raiders. He stepped forward and grabbed Josh's arm. His grip was paralyzing. He was stronger than any person his size had a right to be. He reached with his other hand and held Josh's face, his fingers clamping into
the jaw. “You all have white skin, except that little one. You're not Desert People.”

“No, we're the servants of Goél.”

Instantly Josh saw that the word meant something to the Raider. He stiffened, and his grip grew tighter. “Goél? Goél is our enemy!” he snapped. “You'll discover that Goél has no power in the Citadel among the Raiders.” A cruel smile crossed his lips. “My name is Darkwind. You shouldn't have come here, but I can promise that you will never leave.”

For a moment Josh was unable to reply, for he'd seen that the name of Goél had raised some sort of hatred in Darkwind's dusky face. Then he said, “We mean no harm. We've come to help.”

Darkwind laughed aloud. “You will help,” he said. “We have need for many slaves.” Then he said, “Come, we'll take them to the Citadel.”

What happened next was startling. The Raiders began to produce ropes which they quickly lashed around the arms and legs and bodies of the Sleepers. Then four of them took one line apiece and sprang into the air. Their wings somehow spread through the system of cables and caught the breeze that was whipping over the desert. Instantly they began to rise. It was unlikely that any one of them could have picked up a Sleeper alone, but four of them together made a very powerful engine.

Josh felt himself snatched from the ground as the four that held him by the cords tied to his body began to rise. As they went higher, the breeze was stronger, so they rose even more rapidly.

Looking down, Josh saw Sarah snatched off the ground by four other Raiders. She cried out as the cords cut into her flesh, and Abigail was crying steadily. Reb had put up a fight, but he'd been knocked to the ground and tied fast and now he too was being lifted.

Soon they were high above the earth. Josh felt sick as the ground disappeared. He was totally helpless. He looked up at the glistening, dark bodies of the Raiders who carried him swiftly onward. They were cruel beings, he knew from their expressions. He looked ahead and saw the Citadel coming closer. They picked up speed, gliding into the wind, and he remembered suddenly the time the Sleepers had ridden on huge eagles to escape the power of the Sanhedrin.

Somehow he knew they were in worse trouble than they had ever been, and he murmured, “Goél, I may have gotten us into this, but I sure can't get us out.”

Jake was silent as he looked down at the ground. He had never liked heights, and he certainly didn't like the faces of those who carried him. “Well,” he said almost philosophically, “I hate to say I told you so, Josh, but I told you so!”

Josh, of course, was far away and couldn't hear, and Jake took no satisfaction in being right this time. He didn't like the looks of Darkwind's face, and the idea of being a slave frightened him. He set his jaw and thought about the times Goél had delivered them and shook his head. As the earth rushed beneath him, he thought,
It's going to be tough, but I know somehow we're going to make it.

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