Upon returning to town, Eloise and I headed for the mess tent. Along the way, we found people buzzing with speculation and concern. We saw worry on many faces.

Fritz was standing hunched over a table looking at a map. I led Eloise to him and called his name.

He looked up, deeply concerned about something, but abruptly smiled with genuine pleasure when he saw Eloise just behind me. With joy, I introduced them.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle," Fritz said smoothly. "And a deeper pleasure to see you awake, free, and well."

"And a more deeply pleasure still to meet you," Eloise said. "Guillaume has spent the afternoon telling me all about you."

I rolled my eyes, but Fritz just grinned and said, "Well, there goes my reputation."

"On the contrary, Herr Eger," Eloise said. "He has nothing but praise for your intelligence and valor."

Fritz just looked down and blushed. Bless me, I didn't think he had it in him.

"So what's all the commotion?" I asked.

Fritz looked serious again. "We've received separate, scattered reports that Tripods are on the move."

Eloise gasped.

"Here?!" I asked, looking instinctively at the Tripods looming over the town, all of them immobile since the day the city died.

"No. Every Tripod around here is dormant. But reports have been coming in from the south of France, and a few more from elsewhere. We think."

"We think?" I asked. On the other side of the tent, Julius, Andre, and several others entered, looking deeply concerned and debating something intensely. Beanpole and some of the other scientists quickly followed.

"The reports are scattered and unreliable," Fritz said. "And conflicting. It's hard to tell what is genuine and what is hearsay. But we received reports at the castle and in Paris almost simultaneously, from multiple sources, that some Tripods have been spotted moving. It seems credible, but we can't trust any details yet."

"So some of the Masters survived feeling the death of their city!" I exclaimed.

"Apparently," Fritz said.

"But it's been over a week since we destroyed the city!" I said. "The Masters couldn't have been dormant that whole time."

"No one claimed they were," Fritz said. "These accounts are a week old. We're so far north that we're only just now hearing them. Julius has restricted all radio messages to emergencies only. If Tripods are still alive on this side of the world, they're almost certainly in range of our transmitters."

"Where is Paris?" Eloise asked.

"Paris is the name of the great-city of the ancients near your home," I said.

"People live there?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

"Only resistance members," I said. "Paris is probably our biggest cell. They discovered huge libraries full of knowledge and buildings with fantastic machines from the time of the ancients, and places where they can carry out scient-"

From the group gathered around Julius, Silas's voice suddenly thundered, "We have to retreat! We cannot hope to fight multiple Tripods in a pitched battle. That is not even debatable!"

"No one's debating it!" Andre said with weary anger. "We're just saying that we're not moving our entire operation based on a rumor!"

"You know it's more than a rumor!" Silas said.

"Even if it is, we don't know they're coming here," Julius said, remaining remarkably serene.

"Where else would they go?!" Silas asked.

"We don't know, but that means nothing," Abner said, trying to calm his colleague. "We have many outposts and allies south of here, and they've sent scouting parties to find the truth. If Tripods moved in this direction, we would have plenty of warning."

"And nowhere to go!" Silas said.

"Yes we do!" Evelyn said with exasperation. "Into the city, like we agreed!"

Silas shook his head in frustration. "Some people, like Julius, might come to great harm under the city's intense gravity. But far more importantly, I'm not convinced in the slightest that the city would protect us. All it takes is a Tripod-sized entrance in the inner wall we don't know about, or any other secret we're unaware of, and we would be finished! Nor am I convinced that we could even retreat inside the city in time in the first place. If Tripods slipped through all our patrols and appeared on the horizon, they would reach this town faster than we could get even a tenth of our population through the city gate and up the lift. That is a fact."

"We've come too far to retreat now," Julius said. "We must take some risk."

"Fine!" Silas said sarcastically. "But answer me one question, one only. If a group of Tripods attack us here, and the city fails to protect us or we can't get inside in time, what real weapons could we possibly fight them with?"

"Their own!" said Eloise, with conviction and passion.

Everyone turned to look her, stunned at this new voice.

Eloise stepped forward. "It's not the Tripods you fear, it's the oppressors who operate them. A Tripod is merely a weapon, like a sword or a crossbow. My father says that a weapon is never to be feared, only the hand which wields it, for a weapon can be taken and used against its former owner."

The entire tent was silent as everyone absorbed these words.

Eloise pulled aside a tent flap and pointed up to one of the Tripods, standing frozen above the town. "We have Tripods, too. And if the invaders can operate them...so can we."

"Not necessarily," Francois said, but without any harshness. "The aliens have three very long tentacles and far greater physical strength. If these are required to operate a Tripod, we cannot use their weapon."

"But those obstacles could be overcome!" Beanpole said excitedly. "There's an engineering solution to every problem."

Francois made a well-you're-right-about-that face, conceding the point.

Julius said, "Mademoiselle, that is an excellent idea, and I'm ashamed we didn't think of it." He turned to the others. "Requisition whatever you need to make this idea happen. Give it top priority. Regarding our discussion, we're staying here unless the situation changes drastically. That's my final decision."

The others nodded and dispersed. Beanpole headed toward us.

Fritz leaned close to me and whispered, "I like her." I just smiled.

"That was an excellent idea, Eloise," Beanpole said.

"Thank you, Jean-Paul," she said, looking demure. "And a special thank you for following the clues in the Pyramid of Beauty, and deducing we were still alive."

Now Beanpole blushed. Eloise really had the power, apparently.

"My pleasure, mademoiselle," he said. "And may I say, now that I am an adult, I insist that most people do call me Jean-Paul, for Beanpole is a nickname of childhood. However, there are three people in this world I still allow to call me Beanpole, and will do until our dying days: Fritz, Henry, and Will. You are more than welcome to be the fourth."

"Very well, Jean-Paul," Eloise said with a smile. "I shall give it some thought."

"How do you think we'll use Tripods?" I asked. "What do we need to do?"

"First, we just need to get inside them," Beanpole said. "We've examined the Hall of Tripods a little bit. We can operate the controls the slaves used when Tripods docked and undocked, but the higher level which the Masters used to enter and exit the Tripods is closed to us. We'll have to redouble our efforts to figure out how to overcome this obstacle. Failing that, we might build scaffolding to get up to some of the undocked Tripods and force the hatches. I don't know. But I must get back to the others, for they may have other, better ideas. We have exciting work to do!" He rushed off.

"Ah, I'm famished!" Eloise said.

"Kitchen's about to close," Fritz said. "If you two want dinner, you'd better hurry."

We hurried, and shared a nice dinner with Karl and Helga, and it was the first time I saw Helga in normal clothes. She was delighted to see Eloise doing well, and they spoke eagerly about waking the rest of the women. Helga also promised to look into getting fresh clothing for Eloise. "A pageant gown here stands out so bizarrely," she said.

"Ah, but I am thinking that pageant gowns here will be common soon enough," Eloise said, and we laughed.

I returned the extra blanket and canteen I had borrowed earlier, then it was time to hit the sack. I was exhausted, in just about every way possible.

"Is there a place for me to sleep?" Eloise asked.

"You bed down wherever you find a place," I said. "But if the place you choose is next to me, I would be delighted."

She smiled. "So would I. But I will need that blanket back, plus one more, yes?"

"Realistically, you'll need three or four, but yes. Luckily for us, we sleep right next to the tent which holds them."

"Oh, so convenient, Monsieur Parker."

She had never slept in anything other than a featherbed, with plump pillows and soft quilts. To her, a coarse blanket on the ground, with a bit of scrounged canvas for a pillow, was as alien as the city of the Masters. Yet not once, even a tiny bit, did she ever complain about her new situation or sleeping arrangements.

 

That was Eloise by day: cheerful, wise, assertive, and active.

Eloise by night was still sealed in her cage in the darkness, her arms pinned, the monsters coming to get her any moment. I woke some time after midnight to find her shrieking "Let me out!" and thrashing around in pure panic.

Hastily, I took her in my arms and spoke her name repeatedly to wake her, ending the nightmare. She lay panting and shivering, still consumed by the dream's lingering terror, breathing in the relief that it wasn't real. It took her several minutes to calm down. I know others heard her cries, but they were kind enough to leave us alone.

We learned that first night that if I held her, or at least held her hand, the nightmares appeared less often.

But they never quite left.

 

Starting the next morning, Freetown became busier than it had ever been. And that was saying something, for we hadn't exactly been idle.

Helga and Eloise took charge of reviving the remaining women, another of whom walked into town around noon. They always had at least one scientist and one medic with them when they revived someone.

For basically having a day off with Eloise yesterday, I was assigned to the kitchen all day. But I didn't mind; that was fair. (At least it wasn't hand-washing water duty. Hauling water from the river to refill the hand-washing basins outside the gate was the worst detail in camp, and everyone knew it.)

Silas, Evelyn, and Gregory tackled, with redoubled effort, the problem of gaining access to the upper level of the Hall of Tripods. In case they failed, the resistance also set to work trying to break into one of the dormant Tripods standing above us. At sunrise, a swarm of workers began cutting down trees and erecting a scaffold beside the Tripod nearest the gate.

Strangely enough, this Tripod's tentacle hung loose. We didn't know why this should be, unless it was a reflex action from one of the dying drivers.

Most of the workers who erected the scaffold were freed slaves, but I was learning not to think of them that way, any more. By now, they were just like the rest of us: resistance members. It didn't matter how you got here, just that you were here.

Another thing I was pleased to notice about the former slaves was that they had begun regaining their muscle mass and skin smoothness. Extended time in the city had worn some of them to the point where they looked like old men, but in normal gravity and fresh air, it was clear their youthful bodies were beginning to return.

The Erlkonig arrived with another load of supplies, but I didn't have time to go say hello to Moritz. With sadness, yet also with a great sense of relief, I noted that the Erlkonig departed with a load of vagrants. The towns upriver had built large vagrant houses and were taking them off our hands. This gave Freetown some much-needed relief.

Gregory came through the breakfast line, which surprised me. I almost didn't recognize him. He was deeply haggard, with bloodshot eyes and a face which hadn't seen a razor in long time. Minutes later, I heard the rumor that the alien language was proving extremely difficult, and Julius had forced Gregory to take a break before he burnt himself out. I never learned whether the rumor was true, nor did I care.

When Fritz came to get a late lunch, I asked him quickly if Moritz had brought any news, and he said no. But Fritz did tell me they had sent a message to the resistance group in Asia telling them of our discovery about the Pyramid of Beauty, so they could rescue the women held in captivity there.

 

During my only real break, in the afternoon, I managed to catch a few words with Beanpole in passing. He told me, in confidence, that the resistance was developing a code so we could speak over the radio without the Masters knowing what we were saying. But it would take weeks to develop, plus several months to send it to all our cells and train everyone to use it.

Beanpole said the scientists had sent a message by pigeon to the castle, asking Ruki for detailed instructions on driving a Tripod, even though they fully expected he would never reveal this information. Beanpole also told me they had chosen to break into the Tripod nearest the city gate simply because it was the one most in the way, and they'd really like to move it if they could.

"You know what really puzzles me?" I asked him.

"Almost certainly," he deadpanned.

I ignored this. "The Masters never had problems of trust amongst themselves, never stole from each other, betrayed each other, or attacked each other. Even when they disagreed. No door in the entire city was ever locked. So why is the upper level of the Hall of Tripods sealed?"

"An astute question, Will. My best theory at the moment is that one of the Masters, while dying and sensing the danger, sealed it. It's also possible that our ancestors commandeered Tripods in the original war and tried to drive them into the city, thus creating the need for an extra layer of security." He thought for a moment. "In fact, the requirement that the slaves on the lower level had to open and close the doors on the upper level is yet another layer of security. I wonder if something really did happen all those years ago to make them wary..." And thus musing to himself, he wandered off, fascinated with his new mystery.

 

I didn't get to see Eloise until I stumbled to my blankets. We arrived at the same time. She was yawning, and melancholy.

"I wrote a letter to my parents and sent it with Moritz," she said. "I hope it reaches them within the month. They must think I am dead."

I froze, stunned by a new thought.

"Guillaume?" she asked.

"It never once occurred to me to write my own parents," I said quietly. "Or Jack."

"Perhaps you should. We don't know how many tomorrows we have."

She suddenly held my arm and said, softly yet intensely, "All our days are precious, Guillaume." She looked into my eyes, desperate to know that I understood. "This is what we have, and all that we have. All the precious days."

I nodded, and tenderly kissed her.

She smiled, spread a blanket over herself, and lay down. "We revived a woman named Juanita today," she said. "But unlike me and Helga, she's not handling it well at all. She weeps and barely speaks. The medics say it's too soon to declare her a vagrant, but it's possible that's what happened."

"I suppose, out of hundreds of women, we won't have a perfect record," I said, crawling under my own blanket.

"No," she grimly agreed. "And we need to be prepared for that."