The buildings looked like part of the desert, made of sandy-colored stone. They were painted with abundant turquoise mosaics. Many of them had bulb-shaped domes on top. The guard whispered to them. —Don't get separated.
He looked at the great towers and palaces. They measured dozens of meters. —How did they build this, doc?
—With slaves and maths.
—How many people live here? Thousands? Tens of thousands? What's on every street?
—We'll leave today. You don't want to live in a place like this.
—What did you say the High Porte is, Doc?
—This city, Samarkand, and everything around it is a fief. It belongs to the satrap, but the satrap is subordinate to the High Porte. Hundreds of fiefs pay homage to it. All of them constitute the nation of Ab.
—Ab?
—It's one of the largest nations in the world, though today it's only a shadow of what it once was. Years ago, it was completely united, but after a civil war, cohesion disappeared. The High Porte is the only institution that survives in almost all the territory. They are the priests of the empire; they control the monopoly on technology. They decide who has the machines and the knowledge. Without them, the cities would collapse.
—Are they really that necessary?
—They control the fuel refineries, the component factories, the blueprints for every damn mechanism. Only they can make spare parts. With those machines, they till the fields and move water to the cities. That's how they control people.
—And people don't do anything about it?
—When have you seen sheep take over a farm? —They arrived at the main avenue.
—How big is Ab? Will we have to escape from it?
—Don't worry, like I said, there's no cohesion anymore. Every governor and warlord does as they please. It's a ghost nation; it exists only on paper. It was supposed to be so big it covered half of two continents. I don't know how big it is now.
—Why did the civil war happen?
—I don't really know; I never found out for sure. —The three of them arrived outside a modest building, right in front of a main avenue. Vanrra looked all around like a child. A crowd of camels crossed the street. On the other side of the road was the entrance to a bazaar in the streets. The shops were decorated with fabrics of many colors. At the end of the avenue was a large metal gate blocking access to a dome. Giant chimneys emerged from the ground, spewing black smoke. The sound of machines and engines echoed through the air. Hiram turned his head. —Don't look at them for too long.
—Is that the High Porte?
—It's one of their temples.
The guard told them. —Here it is; come with me.
—Wait for me here, Vanrra. Don't move. —Hiram went into the building.
This is what the doc hated so much. It's nothing like my village. Everyone seems to be strangers to each other; nobody knows anyone. It's a shame that the annoying noise is here too. I wish I could make it stop. He noticed someone stop next.
It was a boy about ten years old. He looked somewhat like Vanrra. His hair and face were identical. The boy said to him, —You're not from here, are you?
—How do you know, kid?
—I'm not a kid.
—Whatever you say, champ. How do you know I'm not from here?
—Did you get your clothes from a hunt?
—I don't know what you mean. What's your name, kid?
—Mithra.
—Are you a girl?
—It's not a girl's name. What are you doing standing here?
—I'm waiting for a friend.
—Don't you want to see the bazaar or stroll through the city? There's so much to see. Aren't you curious to learn more?
—I can't. My friend forbids it; he'll be out soon.
—Why won't your friend let you enjoy yourself? Looking around a little won't hurt you. I promise there are things you'll love.
—You're only talking to me because you want me to buy you something.
—I don't think you have much money.
—Money? —A crowd formed on the avenue; they shouted and insulted a woman in rags. —What's going on? —They threw the woman to the ground; she spat blood. The guards just watched. Vanrra ran to get a closer look.
The guards stopped him. —Stay away, brat.
—Why aren't you doing anything?!
People took turns beating and spitting on the girl. —Why do you care? —Are you one of them too?
—Them?
They shouted from the crowd. —Samaritan! Filthy fucking whore! Race of demons! —They beat the woman to a pulp. She wouldn't stop screaming or crying. They grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down the avenue, toward the city gate.
—What did she do?! What are they going to do to her?!
One of the guards laughed. —We'll do to her what her race did to ours.
—Race? But she looks just like yours.
The guard grabbed him by the neck and pointed his revolver at him. —What did you say? Don't compare me to those demons. My blood isn't cursed, not like those beasts. —Maybe he just wants to fuck the whore. —Are you one of those who fuck bitches?
Vanrra tried to break free, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't; the guard held him tightly. —Why don't you come with us to watch how they hang that whore? —Hiram grabbed the guard by the wrist. —What do you want? —Hiram squeezed so hard the guard had to back off. The rest drew their breech-loading rifles.
—Shoot me and I swear I'll kill every damn lamb in this shithole town.
—Who the hell are you?! —You attacked a law enforcement officer!
Hiram put Vanrra behind him. —Your law is just so your kind don't eat each other, fucking slave; your life isn't worth more than that whore.
They all aimed at him. —What did you say?! We're going to kill you just like that bitch!… —Hiram stood in front of them with a look of total contempt; his eyes were like a bomb about to explode. —Step back, you're unarmed!
He stood in front of the barrel. —Shoot, and I promise I'll kill even your damn dogs. I will wipe out these ugly stables, filthy cattle!
The guards started to tremble; there was something terribly wrong about that man; he inspired an instinctive fear in them. They put away their weapons and backed away slowly, never taking their eyes off him.
Hiram returned to Vanrra. —I made the deal; we must move.
—Doc?
—What's wrong?
—Thank you.
—Who were you talking to outside the building? I could hear you.
—To a kid, his name is… —He lost sight of him. —I think he's already gone; I swear he was here just a moment ago.
—Did he steal anything from you?
—I don't have anything on me. He said he didn't want anything from me because I didn't have money. What is money, doc?
—Money? I'll tell you on the way; it's a long story. Follow me. —They both started walking. Vanrra had his head down. —What's wrong?
—That woman, why would they do something like that to her? I couldn't help her.
—You have to respect their traditions.
—They said she was a Samaritan. Who are they?
—It's nonsense: just beasts killing each other; both are still animals.
—Why do you sound like them? Don't you have a heart? Why didn't you do anything? You have the strength.
—I already told you they're savages; that's why we must leave as soon as possible. Don't think about it; we have to keep going. —They walked through the streets; they reached a neighborhood with shops. Vanrra stopped to admire every little detail in the windows. —The deal is done; I just have to go pick up the vehicle. The depot is a few kilometers into the desert.
—When will we go, doc? Aren't you afraid we'll run into the monster again?
—It's good that you're afraid, because you won't go out. —They stopped in front of an inn. You'll stay here until I come back. Are you hungry?
—Will you go alone?
—Don't worry. We eat, I go out, and you wait until I return. Then we both get in the car and head west. Your job is to sit here and wait without leaving.
—Whatever you say, doc.
They both went in to eat and devoured plate after plate of stew. The meat on the plate reminded Vanrra of what had happened in the forest. —Is something wrong?
—Nothing, I was just thinking. —He looked around; people seemed oblivious to the beasts outside. —Why do they act as if nothing is happening, doc, as if that thing outside doesn't exist? It could attack at any moment.
—Don't they remind you of something? People don't care what happens around them; it doesn't matter if monsters want to devour them or crazy extremists rule them. All they care about is eating and living in their world of lies, as fragile as these walls. Whoever lives like a dog dies like a dog. You know how that ends.