The Price of the Elite
Chapter 1 - Discovery and Consequences
Heat. And cold. One for the day, one for the night, and wind, near constant wind, whipping up scouring sandstorms. An atmosphere thin enough for severe temperature extremes and thick enough to blow the sand.
Get lost in that and you were dead. The man with the tatters of cloth drawn over his face felt he was dead, but if he was back in his room, or anywhere else in the village, his life would already be over. For the sake of vague rumours he had fled, ill-equipped, into the desert, fleeing for his life in panic. His stolen beast of burden was already buried in the sand, far behind him, and now his turn had arrived.
His compass pointed vaguely north, wavering uncertainly in his unsteady hand and the weak magnetic field. He cursed the thing as best as he could with a parched, dust-clogged mouth, wishing for the sophisticated electronic device he had spurned in fear of it being used to track him. As if that would matter now.
Despite the lack of a certain direction, and with the certainty that he was probably nowhere near his course, he stumbled on for a few steps more until his exhausted legs collapsed beneath him. The sand gave way beneath his hands as the man tried to push himself back to his feet; he was left sprawled on the ground.
Eventually the sand covered him.
Two bulky creatures crested a dune and started to make their cautious way down it. The storm had abated, and the evening's sun was glowing through the dust. On each creature two squat humanoid forms were mounted; one of them halted its beast and peered into the sunset, a hand sheltering its eyes. The figure clucked at its beast. It started forward again and slid down a little way before suddenly stumbling, bellowing and sending its passengers crashing down onto the sand.
The second beast stopped nearby. The figures jumped down to help their companions to their feet, but as they were doing so one of them caught a glimpse of something just up the slope, where the creature had tripped. The humanoid scrambled up the side of the dune, then jumped in alarm. The others came up after it.
A booted foot stuck out of the ground, on the end of a leg covered in tattered cloth. For some time they eyed it in disgust, and started chattering urgently. Eventually a decision was reached, and they began to extricate the corpse.
A tall, lean body, by their standards, roughly clothed, clutching a primitive compass in one hand. A bag had been slung around one shoulder but it was empty of anything of interest. Around the neck, and somewhat caught up in the ragged beard, was a thin chain which disappeared into his rags. One of the group carefully pulled it out, and barked sharply. From the wince on the face of another it could be guessed that this was a curse of some kind.
Hanging from the chain was a yellow-coloured metal disc, about an inch across, with a pair of holes in rim, clogged with sand. On the front was engraved a logo, a pair of wings on an inverted triangle, with five characters across the middle. Someone asked a question; the reply was snapped, leaving the questioner looking frightened.
The being who had discovered the disc grabbed the chain in both hands and pulled sharply, snapping it. The disc slid off, and was pocketed somewhere in squat creature's clothes. It spoke again, ordering the others. They slid back down to their beasts, and hauling themselves up they quickly set off back the way they had come.
The body was left where they had found it, undiscovered by anything else other than the few tiny forms of life that lived around. Eventually another set of bones graced the desert.
They travelled with haste through the evening and the early part of the night, their beasts sure-footed in the pitch darkness and they themselves sure of their direction. When they stopped it was only to rummage around in their packs for some food, which they ate on the move.
After several hours a tiny moon rose, casting a feeble glow over the desiccated landscape. In the distance, in their direction of travel, the horizon could now be seen to be made of jagged hills; there was a far away rushing sigh, sometimes louder, sometimes almost silent.
The hills were stark rocks thrusting out of the desert like the wreck of a mountain, a random jumble of small peaks and rough, narrow canyons. The noise was occasionally clearer now, whenever they passed a gorge sloping down in a certain direction, a low rumble, a long sigh, fading out before repeating. The sound of an unseen ocean.
The beasts and their riders picked their careful way through the valleys, walls of shattered rock towering above them and often casting them into impenetrable shadow. Guidance of the beasts was unnecessary - they knew their path well, and their snuffling suggested they were following a trail of scent.
One final passageway opened out onto a flat area which ended in a drop, beyond which was the ocean. From the cliff face above them lights shone. The riders jumped to the ground, leading their mounts towards the hillside.
Two rough walls, invisible against the natural background until they were up close, met at the point they headed for, the right hand one passing behind the left, allowing someone to slip between them. Passing into this gap, and turning sharply around the end of the left wall, they walked through an open iron gateway and into the narrow flat of land between the wall and the cliff above them. Cave openings led into the cliff, many of them clearly of artificial construction, or at the least opened out by unnatural means. One of the four riders led the two beasts to stable in one of the caves; when it rejoined them they all made for another tunnel.
Gloomy lamps cast a dim light over the rough cavern. The floor had been crudely levelled, although a couple of tracks had been worn smooth by the frequent tramp of feet. These tracks led to stairs, one set to the left of the entrance and one to the right, both illuminated with the same lamps. The four climbed up the right hand steps, which curved slightly away from the outside wall.
A long landing stretched away at the top of the stairs, running parallel to the cliff face. Doors set in alcoves lined either side, some of the openings covered only in cloth hangings, whilst a few sported sheet metal on hinges. It was to one of the latter, at the far end of the landing, that they passed.
Besides this door there was a rectangular niche in the rock, around which wave patterns had been carefully carved, and in which lay a plain iron rod. That this doorway was of some importance was further apparent by its construction. Instead of the roughly hacked alcoves they had already passed this one was a neatly formed arch, adorned by parallel grooves climbing up the sides and over the top. The metal of the door itself was smooth and unmarked by rust patches.
The being who had discovered the pendant removed the rod from the niche and struck the door once, straight in its centre, producing a dull clang that spoke of solid but not very thick metal. The rod was carefully replaced.
All four stood silently, although two of them seemed to be fidgeting nervously. With a flick of its hand the first one gestured to the others to stand still.
With no apparent cue another one of them removed the rod, struck the door, then set the bar back in its niche. Again they waited. A third strike and wait. When the last one hit, it hit four times and barked a single word, and held onto the rod.
Apparently that was the final requirement, for the door immediately opened inwards into a large room, exactly in the cliff face, for the opposite wall held windows that looked out into the night, the view beyond drowned out by the unexpectedly bright lights. One side of the room rose a little in three small terraces, the centre was occupied by a large stone slab of a table. Across from the table the far end of the room had been partitioned off.