had been sealed off with scrap metal.
“I wonder where we are.”
Azim placed a hand on one of the structure’s walls.
“Do you think we’ve made it to the place where they build such things?”
Zed had no answer for this: it seemed fantastic—he was sure they had flown west last night, as much as possible in the direction in which Atta must lie, but still his heart leapt at the possibility that they had found a new land, the home of those whose skeletons he had discovered.
And then Junior dashed Zed’s hopes.
“We’re home.” He pointed inland.
“If that isn’t Atta, I must be dreaming. We’ve just come around the northern point.”
Zed looked up: sure enough, by coming around the edge of the ridge, they had brought a familiar skyline into view: there lay the summit of Atta, with its crown of dark clouds. And lower he could see the un-mistakable profile of Chen’s lightning farm.
“Atta?” Zed couldn’t believe it.
Neither could Azim.
“But, this thing is here. And—“ Azim swept his hand southward “—look at all those palm trees. The eastern shore doesn’t have that many.”
“The land doesn’t lie.”
Junior shook his head, then turned away from the building.
“If we head this way, we should eventually come around to the harbor. If we don’t, then we’ll know we’re somewhere else.”
Junior began walking away. After a moment, Zed followed him, and Azim did the same. They had not gone far, however, before Azim called everyone’s attention to something on the hillside above them.
They stopped to look.
“Will you tell me what that is?” Azim asked.
“An animal like that was never at Atta.”
Junior let a laugh out of his parched throat. “There is one now.”
Zed said nothing. The thing was like a goat, but taller, with a weirdly expressive face that briefly swung in their direction at the end of a long and muscular neck, and then swung back to the thick bushes where it had begun to graze.
At first Zed thought it must be carrying a pack or was perhaps bearing the carcass of another animal, or its young. But as he studied it he realized that it bore two humps on its back, like a deformity, and yet it seemed perfectly mobile, even graceful, as it left off grazing and moved on.
“I’m getting a closer look.”
Zed scrambled up the hill, his weariness overcome by his curiosity. The others followed. The animal, hearing their approach, picked up speed and began to make its way, far more easily than Zed or his companions—up the steep hillside until it reached a path about twenty meters above the beach. It then began to trot farther up the hill. Zed started to jog after it.
The next thing Zed knew, his legs had gone out from under him. He rolled downhill a few times, struggling to get up, but his ankles were bound together. When he finally came to a stop, he saw Azim and Junior lying in the path below him, also bound at the ankles.
Zed lifted his legs: just above his feet a cable had wound around them several times, a cable attached to two fist-sized metal spheres that lay next to each other just above his right heel. He reached down to separate the spheres and untangle himself, but they wouldn’t come apart: some sort of magnetism had glued them together, and no matter how hard he strained, they wouldn’t move.
“Those things won’t separate until I let them.”
Zed looked up: a young man, tall and thin, was jogging down the path towards him; behind him was another man of about the same age, but heavy-set and shorter.
“Then release me. Who are you people?”
Zed tried to get his feet under him, but his fatigue and the bonds made this impossible.
“Say please.”
The first of the strangers had reached him now, careful not to come too close, but close enough to look Zed in the face.
“If you’re going to be guests at Atta, you’ll need to learn some manners.”
“Guest? I live here.” Zed growled in his frustration.
“Let me go.”
The young man crouched down to get a better look at Zed: Zed got his first look at him. He had red hair and pale skin, and his mouth had curled into a smile.
“Nice try, but there aren’t so many of us that I wouldn’t recognize someone.”
Then his smile faded, his eyes narrowed, and he studied Zed’s face for a moment.
“Lex.” The young man’s companion had reached Junior and Azim.
“I think I recognize these two.”
“What?”
“These two. I think I recognize them.”
“Who are you?” Azim’s voice was ragged with fatigue and frustration.
“Where did you come from?”
“Keep quiet.” By now Lex was standing by Azim and Junior; he crouched to get a better look at them.
“Amad, you’re right. I think I recognize them as well. The other one, too, maybe.”
“If you recognize us, let us go.”
Junior flailed against the path, beating the ground with his heels. “We live here.”
Zed let himself relax, trying to appraise the situation. But relaxing proved difficult. Something was wrong. He was home, he felt certain, and yet something told him that he was still lost. And he felt, too, an apprehension growing that he had encountered one more barrier against finding out the origins of Atta.
Had the elders encountered obstacles like this? Had they given up the search because of them?
Over near Azim and Junior, Lex stood up again.
“I’m telling you, Amad, it’s the strangest thing. They do look familiar.”
“Amad? Amad?” Junior’s voice sounded suddenly full of concern. Zed raised his head to look at him.
“Amad? That chubby kid who always got in the way?” Junior’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but speech had failed him.
“Amad?” Azim spoke now.
“Lex?” His eyes went wide.
“This is Junior. I’m Azim. We were at the school at the same time, but—“
“Junior? Azim?” Amad and Lex looked at each other.
Then Lex strode over to Zed. He was frowning deeply, his forehead wrinkled.
“What is your name?”
Zed met his eyes. “My name?” He managed to sit up.
“My name is—“ Zed paused then, and, gathering his strength, he kicked at Lex’s legs with his bound feet. In an instant, he was sitting on Lex’s chest, his left hand pinning down Lex’s right arm, Zed’s right hand tightening Lex’s throat.
“Zed?” Azim stared at him, clearly distressed by Zed’s tactics. But Junior had followed suit, knocking Amad off his feet and restraining the young man in his powerful arms.
Zed’s frustration and apprehension had suddenly erupted into rage. There was too much strangeness, too much mystery, for him to wait for things to work themselves out politely.
“You,