enigmatic.
—GURNEY HALLECK,
notes for an uncompleted ballad
T rudging across the cool, dark sands, the three figures followed the spine of a tall, snaking dune. Their moonlit footprints looked like the track of a centipede winding into the shadows. Barri took the lead, showing an energy and determination that went beyond the usual enthusiasm of an eight-year-old. Jesse drew strength from his son’s tireless optimism.
Without warning, the boy stumbled into a pocket of loose powder, and his legs slid out from under him. He flailed for balance, but could find nothing solid to hold. Barri cried out, slipping down the steep slope of the dune. Dislodged sand washed like loose snow down into the basin. A few buried stones, some as large as a man’s head, spat out of the dune’s side, bouncing, tumbling.
Jesse ran toward him. “Barri!”
The young man had the presence of mind to jam his legs deep into the sand and thrust his arms into the flowing grains, and eventually stopped himself by digging in. Covered with sand, his face mask knocked loose, Barri looked up, coughing and choking, but managed to reassure his father. He actually grinned. “I’m all right!”
Sliding sand and stones continued to flow past him to the base of the dune, where the bouncing stones hit a hard white patch that broke apart and resonated. Compacted grains struck each other and triggered an acoustic shockwave like the heartbeat of a violently awakened giant. The thumping pulse boomed into the night.
Barri tried to scramble up the dune slope, feeling a mixture of fear and fascination. The pounding built upon itself, a thrumming vibration that rose to a crescendo.
“Drumsand!” English exclaimed. “Grains of a certain size and shape, acoustically packed … unstable equilibrium.” The spice foreman was pale. “It’s loud enough to draw a worm! Climb, lad; climb! ”
Jesse scrambled to meet his son halfway, grabbed Barri by the arm, and pulled him up. “We have to get away from here.”
Already gasping and exhausted, Barri could hardly stay on his feet. When they reached the dune crest, English gestured frantically. He bounded along, his feet stirring the sand. When the liquid dune slope began to drop them to a gully, the freedman cut sideways and skidded down the sands. “We have to get far from that drumsand!”
They slid into the gully, then slowed as they cut an ascending zigzag up to the peak of another dune ridge away from where Barri had first stumbled. From far behind, they heard a familiar hissing, stirring sound … the passage of something huge and serpentine.
“Stop!” English said in a harsh whisper. “Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
The three froze and stared across the moon-silvered sands. They saw turmoil in the drumsand valley as a blunt head emerged like a sea serpent from the sandy depths. Sand grains showered from its massive body like diamond specks. When the worm plunged again, the reservoir of drumsand vibrated and thumped with a last few dying echoes until the creature destroyed the delicately balanced acoustic compaction.
English sank into a weary squat atop the dune ridge. Jesse and Barri sat beside him, holding their breath. The slower hissing sound of disturbed sand reminded Jesse of the whisper of waves on the far-away Catalan seas.
Finally, they got up and set off into the night again.
TWO DAYS LATER in the heat of afternoon, the bedraggled trio stopped in the shadow of a rock outcropping. Concentrated spice had kept them alive and moving, but their carefully rationed water was now almost gone. Jesse and English both knew they would consume the last drops within another day. And according to the paracompasses, they were barely more than halfway to the automated outpost.
Leaning against the rocks, they kept their uncomfortable face masks in place to minimize moisture loss. While the spice foreman dozed, conserving energy, Jesse watched Barri, who was holding up like a champion. The boy
—GURNEY HALLECK,
notes for an uncompleted ballad
T rudging across the cool, dark sands, the three figures followed the spine of a tall, snaking dune. Their moonlit footprints looked like the track of a centipede winding into the shadows. Barri took the lead, showing an energy and determination that went beyond the usual enthusiasm of an eight-year-old. Jesse drew strength from his son’s tireless optimism.
Without warning, the boy stumbled into a pocket of loose powder, and his legs slid out from under him. He flailed for balance, but could find nothing solid to hold. Barri cried out, slipping down the steep slope of the dune. Dislodged sand washed like loose snow down into the basin. A few buried stones, some as large as a man’s head, spat out of the dune’s side, bouncing, tumbling.
Jesse ran toward him. “Barri!”
The young man had the presence of mind to jam his legs deep into the sand and thrust his arms into the flowing grains, and eventually stopped himself by digging in. Covered with sand, his face mask knocked loose, Barri looked up, coughing and choking, but managed to reassure his father. He actually grinned. “I’m all right!”
Sliding sand and stones continued to flow past him to the base of the dune, where the bouncing stones hit a hard white patch that broke apart and resonated. Compacted grains struck each other and triggered an acoustic shockwave like the heartbeat of a violently awakened giant. The thumping pulse boomed into the night.
Barri tried to scramble up the dune slope, feeling a mixture of fear and fascination. The pounding built upon itself, a thrumming vibration that rose to a crescendo.
“Drumsand!” English exclaimed. “Grains of a certain size and shape, acoustically packed … unstable equilibrium.” The spice foreman was pale. “It’s loud enough to draw a worm! Climb, lad; climb! ”
Jesse scrambled to meet his son halfway, grabbed Barri by the arm, and pulled him up. “We have to get away from here.”
Already gasping and exhausted, Barri could hardly stay on his feet. When they reached the dune crest, English gestured frantically. He bounded along, his feet stirring the sand. When the liquid dune slope began to drop them to a gully, the freedman cut sideways and skidded down the sands. “We have to get far from that drumsand!”
They slid into the gully, then slowed as they cut an ascending zigzag up to the peak of another dune ridge away from where Barri had first stumbled. From far behind, they heard a familiar hissing, stirring sound … the passage of something huge and serpentine.
“Stop!” English said in a harsh whisper. “Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
The three froze and stared across the moon-silvered sands. They saw turmoil in the drumsand valley as a blunt head emerged like a sea serpent from the sandy depths. Sand grains showered from its massive body like diamond specks. When the worm plunged again, the reservoir of drumsand vibrated and thumped with a last few dying echoes until the creature destroyed the delicately balanced acoustic compaction.
English sank into a weary squat atop the dune ridge. Jesse and Barri sat beside him, holding their breath. The slower hissing sound of disturbed sand reminded Jesse of the whisper of waves on the far-away Catalan seas.
Finally, they got up and set off into the night again.
TWO DAYS LATER in the heat of afternoon, the bedraggled trio stopped in the shadow of a rock outcropping. Concentrated spice had kept them alive and moving, but their carefully rationed water was now almost gone. Jesse and English both knew they would consume the last drops within another day. And according to the paracompasses, they were barely more than halfway to the automated outpost.
Leaning against the rocks, they kept their uncomfortable face masks in place to minimize moisture loss. While the spice foreman dozed, conserving energy, Jesse watched Barri, who was holding up like a champion. The boy
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