The Great Hydration

“What seems to have happened on Tenacity is that the interstices left by vulcanism were never filled up. If the planet had been only slightly smaller there would have been little vulcanism and so no giant porous regions. Any larger and pressure from below would certainly have filled up the interstices, instead of leaving a layer of sponge ready to soak up all the surface water.”

“So it all hangs on a fine balance, eh?”

Northrop had followed the explanation absent-mindedly. He glanced overhead. The lighter dispatched by O’Rourke was descending at reckless speed, optical distortion from its inertial field resembling heat haze. Like a thrown cushion, it plumped down on the yellow sand.

“See you, Roncie. Wish me luck.”

“Sure.”

Castaneda climbed into the lighter. Northrop watched it fling itself into the air and streak into the distance, swiftly disappearing.

A movement on the near horizon, in the direction of the small, bright sun, caught his attention. The terrain rose somewhat there, forming a low ridge. Northrop took out a magnifier and pointed the scope.

On the small screen, two vehicles were sliding down the ridge, piling sand in front of them. One was boat-like, lacking any wheels that he could see, and ploughed through the sand as though through water.

The other was larger, an ungainly contraption with big wheels which flashed as they revolved. Both craft seemed to be moving with haste, and the large one was having trouble negotiating the slope at such speed. Once, it nearly turned over.

Soon, Northrop saw the reason for such hurry. The vehicles were fleeing from pursuers which sought to cut them off, large flat hovercraft—or so it seemed—which blew up sand around their edges. Three of them soared over the ridge.

All five vehicles were heading this way.

For day after day Hrityu and Kurwer had followed their Artaxan ally across the desert. The Artaxan camp, he promised them, was now not far off.

It was as the sun was descending on the third day that the blowcraft found then. In them were both Crome and Gamintes—a combination of sinister import to the Analane.

Karvass immediately turned his vehicle aside, followed by the Analane. They were attempting to lose themselves among the dunes before being spotted. The hope was futile: the three blowcraft came surging over the sand in pursuit. The blowcraft, which travelled by lifting themselves off the ground by means of a blast of air, were little more than moving platforms surrounded by balustrades. They were packed with gesticulating, yelling warriors. A carelessly aimed flenching blade whirred over Hrityu’s head. Kurwer grabbed his own flinger ready to retaliate, but it was clear the three travellers could not hold their own and would quickly be overwhelmed.

“Follow me!” Karvass called out.

Again he turned his vehicle and went coursing at full speed towards a long ridge in the middle distance. Hrityu placed his own vehicle’s outer wheels on maximum gearing. Briefly they slid on the sand before the craft picked up speed. He could see what the Artaxan’s strategy was. He was counting on the blowcraft being unable to mount the ridge, allowing time to make an escape.

This was one of their disadvantages. Otherwise blowcraft were favoured by raiders roaming the desert looking for prey, as on level ground they were capable of quick bursts of speed. The war whoops grew louder as the pursuers gained on their victims. By now Karvass had reached the foot of the ridge and the prow of his craft heaved itself on to the slope, hurtling straight up it with ease. The Analane were not far behind; but their own vehicle could not climb nearly as swiftly. Hrityu turned first left then right so that the big wheels could bite into the hillside, mounting zigzag fashion.

Atop the ridge he paused and looked down. All three blowcraft had launched themselves on to the slope. The curtains holding in the cushions of air on which they floated flapped and bulged with the effort. But after mounting so far, they all began to slide back down.

Kurwer laughed. “So much for them!”

His glee was short-lived. Once again the blowcraft attempted the slope, adopting a zigzag tactic of their own and attacking the hillside slantwise. Slowly, slipping as rotating, the occupants hanging on to the balustrades, they were approaching the summit.

Hrityu hastily put the wheelcraft in motion again, hurtling down the other side of the ridge and nearly overturning in his hurry. Suddenly Kurwer pointed.

“Look!”

As he struggled to control the wheelcraft Hrityu glanced sidelong in the direction Kurwer indicated. Not too far off, there was a camp of some sort. There were pavilions—though only small ones—and what looked like big machines.

Only the Tlixix erected pavilions, but they were very big ones, and anyway it was inconceivable to find Tlixix out here in the wilderness. The machines, too, were unfamiliar.