Julien

by Engor

Chapter 44

As it turned out he didn't have to lie to the police. Julien had thought that there was no hurry and that it wouldn't matter if he stayed for a few days, but he soon had to think again. He'd noticed that Xarax's usual colourful appearance was steadily turning grey, and it didn't take a genius to work out that the haptir needed food.

He wasn't all that enthusiastic about feeding him. True, the pain didn't last very long, but it was distinctly unpleasant when it happened. But obviously he couldn't simply let Xarax fade and die, and so, on the pretext of wanting a bit of fresh air, he made his way with Xarax and Yol to a place he knew in the dunes, a sort of hollow that was sheltered both from the wind and from the view of anyone on the beach. In what now seemed to him to be almost a previous life he had gone there often to read a book in a place where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. He was sure of that: in all the time that he had been coming on holiday to this area he had never seen a soul anywhere near this spot. People preferred the beach, or sometimes the rock pools, where they could look for crabs and shells.

Xarax hadn't been keen to do this, but in the end he had been forced to admit that he would be no use to his friend if he allowed himself to starve. Julien had brought a towel with him to soak up the blood – a necessary precaution, based on the amount that had escaped the first time he had fed Xarax – and because the weather was comparatively warm he was able to remove all his clothes in order to prevent blood getting onto them.

Now we're ready, he said to Xarax. At least this way I won't look like I've been visiting a slaughterhouse when I get back home, because I really don't want to have to tell Mum about this. And I can't help thinking that, considering how long this arrangement has lasted already, by now someone ought to have come up with a better way of feeding you.

Other methods have been tried, Xarax told him. They don't work.

All right, maybe we can talk about it later. Let's get this over with. I've got this big pebble, see?

Are you sure you want to do it now? Xarax can wait a little longer. Normally this would not have been necessary for several more months.

We've already discussed this. You must have exhausted yourself keeping me safe while we were crossing the Outside. And I need a fully operational haptir. So let's go.

Don't forget that when you drop your pebble you must say 'Xarax, enough!'

Don't worry, I remember.

Good. Now collect the Yel.

Once again Julien was aware in the change to his perception. But while the air on Nüngen had seemed to be full of swarming dots of light rushing towards his chest, here there were no more than a few feeble sparks.

What's wrong, Xarax? he asked. Why doesn't it work?

Xarax was afraid of this. He thought this might happen, and now he knows for sure. It would be pointless to take your blood. Xarax will explain while you get dressed.

But you need food!

Xarax cannot eat on this world. Humans have developed a technical civilisation using a form of the Yel that you call 'electricity'. This also exists in the Nine Worlds, but only in very small amounts. A very long time ago, long before Yulmir's time, the people on Tann Ling discovered that the big rivers of energy that ran through their metal lines also attracted nearly all the Yel around them. They did not realise until it was far too late how much damage this did. That, coupled with their unrestrained exploitation of the world's resources, is the reason why Tann Linn is now almost a dead world, poisoned and with hardly any life energy. It was decided to abandon it and hope that it would eventually regenerate, and now all human activity there is prohibited. The Emperor's Mirror on Tann Ling is an insect, because that is the only form of intelligent life that can still live there.

And you think the same thing is happening here?

Xarax cannot be certain, but it does appear that this is what is happening.

Then we must do something! I can't just stand back and watch my world being destroyed!

Xarax agrees, but first you need to consider the problems of the R'hinz. There is nothing you can do to help this world on your own, because nobody will listen to you. In this world you are not Yulmir, Emperor of the Nine Worlds.

Obviously that was true. Who was going to listen to a kid? Come to that, who would listen to anyone who stood up and called for a change to the way people lived, especially given that the major powers were engaged in a race of technology, with the world split into two camps, both of which were stockpiling atomic weapons.

Then there's nothing I can do, he said. How long before it's too late?

Xarax does not know. You would need to ask a Master of Science. Xarax can only hope that the humans will refrain from using the Starfire to settle their conflicts. That would be a very bad sign indeed.

If that is what I think it is, then they've already started to do that.

Julien can do nothing. Maybe Yulmir will be able to help. That is one more reason why you must return to the R'hinz.

You're right. And we need to leave as soon as possible, before you get too weak to be able to help. My parents aren't going to be happy... Look, you need to tell Yol about this. It'll be quicker for you to do it than if I try to explain it.

The haptir jumped onto Yol's back and explained the situation to him while they were on their way back to the house.


"Are you sure you can't stay for a bit longer?"

"Mum, Xarax will be too weak to help me if I wait. And I'm sure you don't want me to let a friend die, do you?"

Julien didn't bother telling this parents about what he had discussed with Xarax, because he knew it would do no good to worry them with news of catastrophes that they could do nothing to prevent. He simply told them that Xarax couldn't survive on Earth: he seemed to be allergic to something in the air.

"Of course not!" said his mother. "I haven't forgotten that he saved your life. But... it's really hard to lose you so soon after getting you back."

"At least this time you'll know where I am."

"If that's meant to make us feel better, I'm afraid it doesn't."

"No, I mean... well, last time you thought I'd drowned. This time you'll know I'm all right. And I'm not alone over there, either: I have friends, and allies. Even if Xarax didn't have this allergy I still couldn't stay here."

He couldn't tell his parents the rest of the story from the R'hinz point of view, either: he was sure that by now the alarm would have been sounded and everyone would be looking for him – and not just his friends and allies, either. Sooner or later someone would stumble on his track, the way Yol had already done thirteen years previously, and the idea of ghorrs loose in the Normandy countryside was unthinkable. The longer he stayed where he was, the more he was putting his parents in danger.

"We understand," his father told him. "We're not angry, even though we are very worried about you. Anyway, I bought a rucksack and I've packed it with the things you asked for: a sleeping bag, a waterproof torch, a knife, some water-purifying tablets, and everything else. And I put in a small pair of binoculars, too. And... I'm not sure if I should do this, but in the circumstances...I've got a pistol and some ammunition, too. You can have it if you want."

"Jacques!" exclaimed Julien's mother.

"Look, darling, we know he's not going to Scout camp. Someone is trying to kill him. He might need a weapon. It'll only take me an hour or so to teach him how to use it."

"No! You're out of your mind! You can't give him something..."

"Please don't fight," interrupted Julien. "In any case I can't take it. Xarax knows what a firearm is. From time to time someone reinvents them, but the Emperor outlawed them thousands of years ago, and the penalty for carrying one is exile on a very nasty world. I can't break my own laws – I'd look a complete idiot!"

"You're right," said his father. "I'm not sorry, to be honest, but I thought I ought to offer it to you, all the same."

"I'm not defenceless, anyway," said Julien. "Xarax is a really dangerous fighter – everyone in the R'hinz is afraid of him. He's not at his best right now, but I'm pretty sure he'll recover once we're back where he belongs."


Julien's last hours on his home world were as depressing and tearful as he had expected them to be, even though his father made a very brave attempt to treat him like an adult. A klirk was drawn on his bedroom floor using chalk, and his parents were told to wipe it clean as soon as it had been used. This time Julien was able to draw it himself, with the help of a precise mental image transmitted from Yol by Xarax.

It was a klirk of the same type as the one that had taken him to Aleth. The main problem was working out how to take Yol with him, as well as his clothes and equipment. This turned out to be a lot more difficult than he had expected, and he had to spend a couple of days of intensive, and very frustrating, training, with the help of Xarax and under Yol's supervision. The trick was trying to persuade himself that everything he wanted to carry was as much a part of him as his own body.

Finally he was ready, and in the event the transition went very smoothly, and without any disturbing views of the Outside, either. His bedroom disappeared, and in the same instant they arrived on Dvârinn.

It was vital to avoid anyone finding out that they had arrived, and so Yol had chosen a landing-klirk very carefully: it was close to a city that had been abandoned several centuries before. One slight drawback of this was the fact that the klirk was now in the middle of an extremely thick bramble-bush, but eventually they managed to fight their way out of it.

They started to follow the course of what had once been an important road, but which was now almost gone, with just an occasional slab of blue granite visible to show them where the road had run. It was late afternoon and the weather was overcast, with grey clouds covering the sky and a constant drizzle falling. Julien was glad he'd taken Xarax's advice to dress warmly, because the rain was very cold. But even though he was well-covered, the rain dripped from his oilskin coat and soaked the legs of his jeans, which made walking unpleasant. But at least his walking shoes were completely waterproof.

Yol led them across a bleak moor dotted with scraggy trees and bushes. They had decided to make for the relatively close coast of Djannak Island. There was a small harbour there where Julien would be able to obtain passage on a coaster to take him to Ksantir, the capital and seat of the First Lord of the Ksantiris. They hoped he would be there, rather than sailing on his trankenn: Xarax couldn't say for sure if this was the stormy season or not.

They came to the edge of a cliff that dropped a good ten metres, cutting cleanly across the course of the old road. It went on in both directions as far as they could see, though visibility in this sort of weather was poor. It looked as though there had once been an earthquake here, and the destruction of the road explained why it had been abandoned, and possibly why the town whose ruins they could see in places, where they weren't overgrown with vegetation, had been left to rot. There was a path of sorts leading down the cliff – at least, you might call it a 'path' if you were a mountain goat. It was also just about passable by an agile and careful boy, and so Julien began to make a cautious descent. He was buffeted by gusts of a freezing wind that not only lowered an already low temperature, but also blew the rain inside the hood of his oilskin, from where it trickled down and began to soak both his shirt and his sweater. Yol slipped several times despite his four legs, and Julien had to help him past the trickiest parts. Xarax had flown ahead to find out if the ruins could provide them with some shelter for the coming night.

The road began again at the foot of the cliff and led them straight into the middle of a chaotic area where the odd remaining pieces of architecture displayed both artistry and technological know-how. But sight-seeing was the last thing on Julien's mind, and his teeth were starting to chatter. He was therefore delighted when Xarax, surrounded by a mist of vaporised water, came back to tell him that he had found some shelter.

It didn't look like much, but there was a place where a large, half-shattered vault sheltered a wide paved area that was largely free of vegetation. Julien set up camp, although that simply meant unrolling his sleeping bag and going to look for some wood to build a fire. That was easier than it might have been: dry wood can usually be found if you know where to look, even in wet weather, and it's even easier in a place that has been long abandoned. Soon he had a fire going, radiating both heat and light, and he was able to get changed and spread his wet clothes out to dry. And once he'd eaten a couple of hamburger and pickle sandwiches his morale had risen a long way.

Yol had declined his offer to share his food. Instead he had gone off for a walk with Xarax, who could be a very efficient hunter when the need arose, and so when Yol came back half an hour later, he looked muddy and messy, but he was also clearly full. Julien didn't ask for details of their hunting expedition: instead he spent a good while trying to untangle the dog's fur and removing a lot of prickly burrs that were caught in it.

Julien treated himself to a cup of hot chocolate brewed on his little gas stove and then turned to Xarax, who was basking by the fire.

Xarax didn't move. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem to be aware of anything.

Julien got undressed.

"Stop pretending to be asleep," he said. "I need you in good shape, because we've got no idea what might be waiting for us tomorrow. I don't like doing this any more than you do, but you know it has to be done. Come on."

The haptir jumped up onto his shoulder, and this time everything worked properly: Xarax drank the Yel-enriched blood until Julien dropped the water-bottle he was holding, and once Xarax had gone to sleep and the terrible pain had diminished to a faint memory, Julien felt full of energy and well-being, and at the same time the erection which seemed to be an inevitable side-effect of the process manifested itself. Sadly there was nobody there who could help him to make proper use of it, and instead he had to settle, once he'd got into his warm sleeping bag, for a session of solo masturbation that was a lot less satisfying than the fun and games with his friends which he was starting to consider to be the normal way to deal with such situations. But at least afterwards he fell asleep straight away, rather than lying awake and missing his friends.

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