Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (best sci fi novels of all time TXT) 📕

The boy jumped up, whipping around. The chains clanked hard against the ground with a scrape. His eyes bulged with horror as if he had been caught doing something naughty again. He then lowered his eyes to the ground, waiting for punishment.

“Boy, go directly home and sit on the front step. When I arrive you are go to the cellar and wait there for instruction,” Gailert said.

“Yes, sir.” The boy whispered. He immediately hopped down the steps to the road then looked up the hill with a defeated stare as if he realized how far of a walk it would be. However, the child stepped one foot after the other as far has his leg irons would allow.

“Corporal.” The general pulled a soldier aside. “Bring a message ahead to my porter to whip that boy soundly if he arrives any later than an hour.”

The corporal blinked at him. “Yes, sir, but that child will not make it there in an hour on foot.”

“I know that,” Gailert said. “But that boy must feel my eyes on him, always watching, or else he will be forever incorrigible. A few unreasonable expectations is perfect for keeping a rascal on his toes and out of mischief.”

“Yes, sir.” The corporal departed right away.

Nodding to himself, Gailert turned and entered the office again.

“General, you wished to see me?” Captain Welsin looked a little too eager when he stood before Gailert’s desk. Undoubtedly he received the news of the orders through touch rumor and was bursting with excitement for the opportunity to prove himself.

With a cordial business smile, Gailert nodded. “Yes.”

He closed the office door so no one would listen in.

*

Kemdin sobbed on the steps of the general’s home with his arms pulled close to his sides as he waited for the general to come home. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to follow orders. He was still punished. He just didn’t understand how everything he did was wrong, even when it was right. And as the porter grinned, smugly flipping that leather strap he had used to beat Kemdin in his hands, standing over him while the general’s auto drove up to the curb, Kemdin hoped with his eyes closed that another beating would not follow.

The driver opened the car door, cast the boy a terse look as he shut it, and then walked to the back passenger door, opening it for the general. General Winstrong stepped out and rose with a stoic expression in his dark eyes. He took one step and peered down at Kemdin as if he wanted to squash him with his heel like the village men did to insects.

“I see you came late,” the general said. “Well, boy. I hope you learn from this.”

He then marched up the stairs to talk to the porter.

“I received a telegram today from the Sky Lord himself.” The general pulled off his gloves and hat then handed them to his porter. “I am to pass over my post to Captain Welsin and travel to the Southwest corner of Westhaven to oversee the eradication of insurgents, set up guard posts, and…establish the first Westhaven highway system.”

“Congratulations!” the porter said, sounding delighted even as he grabbed Kemdin by the neck and dragged him indoors to go to the cellar. Kemdin practically crawled to the cellar door when the blue-eye let go. Opening it he crept down the stairs to the furnace for warmth in hopes that they would just forget he was there.

However, the conversations above were loud as the general gave orders to his servants.

“That means,” the general said. “We need to cover the furniture, close the curtains, and pack away all things that may be eaten by moths. I want the kitchen cleared of perishable food and a minimal staff to keep the yard in livable condition, the roof in good repair, and the pipes from freezing and cracking in the winter.”

He walked up the stairs, his feet echoing on the wood and carpet with a slight groan.

“I need a hearty meal prepared for breakfast tomorrow, and meals packed for the journey I am to take to survey the roads between here and Barnid. We will stop at Stiltson City first as I have some business with the governor there, but to be sure I need my clothing packed for a long journey and my personal belongings crated and prepared for shipping to Barnid Town where I intend to set up my headquarters. Besides Saimon, whom I will retain as my steward, you will all be retained here on half pay, or I am willing to keep on Lusia and Isbel for full pay and send the rest of you off with good references.”

The maids sighed. They talked among themselves over which they preferred.

“Saimon, when you act as my steward while I am gone, I want you to collect my mail and have it shipped with the military courier to my new location. As for my maids, if you choose to stay on at half pay, you may hire yourselves out for day work, as my home will not need much tending while I am away.” The general sounded like he believed he was being generous.

Kemdin wondered where that put him. The servants might starve him with the general gone, or work him until he was too hurt to work anymore. Saimon the porter would certainly take his opportunity and drain him completely since that demon disliked him more than all the others. That night before when the porter had touched him, he had seen death again. Death was reaching out to him, calling to him. And though it had been ages since he had last heard anyone call him something other than boy or kid, he didn’t want to hear the voice of death speaking the name his parents had used.

Pulling his arms in to himself, no longer able to hear the instructions the general was giving to his maids, Kemdin closed his eyes and wished that he were back in his village, safe in his home with his mother in the other room and his father working in the shop. He could imagine his grandfather shuffling over the floor, the wood smelling sweet with the soap his mother always rubbed on it. His friends would call out for him to come and play with them. They would go near the boats, collecting smooth stones and catching lake prawns and crab. His cousin would skip over in her white dress and ask to play too, but they would send her away because she was a girl. Now he wished he had said yes and not made her cry. Her fresh smiling face and her braids pulling her hair from her eyes were just like his. And her laugh that really did make Loid blush because he secretly liked her—all if it was gone. Kemdin stared up at the darkness, wondering if she was crying now or if Loid at last invited her to catch crabs with them.

He shivered. Roan was cold. Would he die in a cold place? Was the cellar his grave?

“Boy!”

Kemdin popped his head up and looked at the patch of light that shone in around the general’s silhouette.

“Get over here now!”

Not waiting in case that gave the general another reason to hit him, Kemdin scrambled across the room and up the stairs.

The general took hold of Kemdin’s hair and pulled up so that they were face to face. “You are to ride with me to Barnid. The rules still stand. If you defy me, you will be punished. If you attempt to run, I will have my men shoot you and drag you back to be punished. And when I give an order, you obey with haste. Understood?”

Kemdin tried to nod his head though it was difficult since the general had not let go of his hair. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” The general released him. “Now go and sleep. I will fetch you when we leave tomorrow.”

Trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in his stomach, Kemdin nodded again and crawled down the stairs to the cellar floor. Even as the general closed the door Kemdin stared up at the ceiling above and wondered which was worse—being left with Saimon or getting taken along?

He didn’t know.

General Winstrong had predicted his task in the Southwestern Corner would take at the most ten years to accomplish. At the least, he predicted five. The captains running the corner were not entirely happy to see him when he had arrived to oversee their work. But they had their orders from the Sky Lord, and no one questioned the supreme ruler’s commands. It was a good thing too, since Gailert Winstrong knew exactly what he was doing.

Setting up guard posts and protecting the rail came first. That he accomplished within the first year without so much as a hiccup. Eradicating insurgents was an ongoing task. It required him to arrange search parties, attack troops, and establish spies among the outlying villages. And, of course, building the roads was a continual project that would indeed take ten years to truly complete to the quality that the general wanted. He took for his model an ancient road system that established stone and steel bridges over rivers, and cut out parts of the mountains for smooth traveling, and tons and tons of sand, rock and paving to make it last.

They had organized crews for each task along the road, setting mile markers, signs for routes and towns, and warnings for the seasonal conditions of the weather and wild animals and hostile demons en route. As the general stopped by and visited each and every city, town, village, and post in the Southwestern corner to inspect their progress, he made sure they did not overlook a thing.

There was something impressive about how General Winstrong went about his work. He had the energy of a younger man still in his prime. Every Sky Child soldier, tradesman, and citizen nodded to him with respect when they saw him. His entrances were inspiring, ennobling to his countrymen, stepping from his shiny automobile with his sharp driver and ready footman to hop at his call. And when he greeted the people, he smiled with a grand air, magnanimous as well as generous in his speech to every Sky Child he saw. His words were also enlightened and encouraging, often talking of progress. Certainly his roads and love for automobiles also brought a charisma to him, though it made him somewhat quirky. He spoke of freedom and prosperity almost all the time. Fact was, he had garnered the respect of the merchants whose business tripled since his arrival to that corner of the land.

So of course General Winstrong had gained a reputation among the human insurgents as well. He had practically decimated their bands. He was indiscriminate when it came to the rabble. ‘Nits made lice’, he said to his captains and lieutenants. And ‘small cancers could grown and destroy the body’. So he, as policy, razed villages to the ground that supplied, fed, or even housed a singular insurgent.

It was his message to the humans to give up their barbaric ways, or die. But the savage human insurgents struck back