by Frank Morin
More mechanicals positioned around the outer edges of the Battalion opened fire, but the three monsters scattered. They might possess only partial intelligence, but the queen had obviously learned something from her assault against Merkland. Hamish didn’t plan to let any of them that close to Jean, or hurt any of those vulnerable soldiers.
“Brezels five through seven, take out that serpent. I’ll take the big ugly leather one. The rest of you take that pedra.”
They immediately called acknowledgments and Hamish accelerated again. His Second Skin included far more powerful thrusters, and he loved the feel of getting pressed into his harness as he shot toward the closest monster. It was one of those big, blocky, ungainly things of leather that was probably filled with some kind of nasty element. He’d hoped to test out his Second Skin with something a little fluffier.
So Hamish activated a personal shield around himself, inside the confines of the pilot harness, while leaving the deadly outer arms half curled around him. He activated a secondary shield around the outside of the Second Skin, with gaps for the legs to extend through or for weapons to fire.
The monster was ignoring him, focused on one of the hive mechanicals supporting the Thunder Tower slide. Somehow it seemed to sense its presence although it was so tiny. The monster seemed to understand that it could wreak more havoc by destroying a tiny target first.
Tallan take clever enemies and boil their socks for breakfast. Hamish triggered a specialty missile. He didn’t dare use diorite because the monster was drawing too close to its target, and an explosion might wreck the fragile mechanical too.
The missile leaped across the distance and intercepted the monster just before it reached the mechanical. On impact, the head of the missile ruptured into a fantastic spray of pink and yellow foam that enveloped the monster, fouling its wings and hampering its movements.
Hamish had designed the pedra’s spittle missile against really powerful Sentries, but it worked brilliantly against the flying monster.
Until the monster opened its maw and belched a gout of flames. Direct hit on the mechanical.
Hamish muttered a Varvakin curse he’d learned from Fyodor and triggered a short burst from his speedslings as he swept in after the monster. It was falling, unable to maintain flight with the pedra’s spittle coating it. The little hornets rupturing the monsters hide, and it exploded harmlessly in a great cloud of fire.
One of the Thunder Towers sliding down the spiral reached the broken section, fell through the gap, and began plummeting out of control toward the ground.
“The spiral hive is breached. Halt deployments and get replacements out here. Reinforce the spiral, now!”
Hamish didn’t wait for acknowledgment, but accelerated hard after the free-falling Thunder Tower. They had designed failsafes in the spiral so that the next hive member above the breach could activate a secondary shield the block the slide and stop any additional mechanicals from falling through until the hole could be repaired, but that wouldn’t help the Thunder Tower falling to its death.
Hamish activated a speakstone to link to the doomed mechanical, using the ID number stenciled in huge letters on the side of the highest turret. He expected to hear screaming from the soldiers about to die, and was surprised to hear them laughing instead.
“You do realize you’re outside of the spiral, right?” Hamish asked.
“Just means we’ll get down to the fighting that much sooner,” came the exuberant reply. “Don’t worry about us, Builder. We’ve got a Spitter aboard. We’ll be fine.”
“Good hunting,” Hamish said, relieved they were taking the unexpected turn so well.
“And to you,” they called after him as he banked away and threw wide the release rates on the Second Skin’s rear thrusters. He whooped as he shot into the sky even faster than he could manage in his personal suit.
The pairs of brezel flight flyers were engaged in a wild aerial duel against the other two monsters that had been attacking the soldiers. As he’d feared, they were not quite able to keep up with the monsters’ reflexes, slowed as they were by using keystones.
Even as he powered toward them on an intercept course, the serpent monster flung itself in an impossible turn, catching one of the brezel pilots by surprise. The two crashed together and the monster bit down with its huge jaws that almost totally engulfed the little craft. The shielding held, mostly, but one fang punched through and ripped a big gash open along one side.
“Bail out!” Hamish shouted.
He didn’t need to. The pilot was smart enough to realize he’d never free his craft from that maw. He dove through the one window not blocked by the mouth, propelled into the air by a personal thruster. He fell free, but Hamish didn’t worry about him. He was wearing a personal descent vest. He’d reach the ground safely, and hopefully hitch a ride on one of the Thunder Towers.
Three seconds later, the serpent ground the pilot’s craft to splinters and swallowed them whole. Hamish wished the man had managed to trigger at least one of the missiles before ejecting. The resulting explosion probably would have spread to the others and destroyed the monster.
The pedra monster was keeping the rest of the flights busy, and the serpent banked away to target troops falling nearby. It swooped in, raking at men and women with deadly claws and chomping with those horrible jaws.
One of the falling soldiers, a big man wearing a Grandurian uniform, carried a speedsling and engaged the monster, ripping a line of hornets and exploding diorite projectiles across its torso that caused it to bank away for a moment. But the man was not firing from a stable position, and the stream of hornets threw him off course into a slow spiral.
It was enough. Hamish swooped in after the huge monster, triggering a burst of bright light to draw its attention. It pivoted toward him and accelerated, those deadly jaws opening wide to crush him like it had the other flyer.
Hamish didn’t dare spray hornets at the monster, or even fire a missile. If he missed, he’d probably kill some of the falling soldiers behind it. He’d have to take the hit. The Second Skin was a lot tougher.
Hopefully.
“This had better work,” Hamish whispered as he let the monster come, and flew right into its jaws.
Connor had been almost eaten by a pedra once, and Hamish always felt a little jealous that he didn’t have a story that good. Now as he flew into the monster’s powerful jaws, he realized Connor was right. Getting eaten alive was not an experience he recommended.
Before it could chomp him into pieces, Hamish activated the magnis controls of his Second Skin. The half-closed arms protecting him sprang outward, spearing into the creature’s jaws all around. His forward momentum stopped so fast, he wrenched against his harness, groaning from the abuse.
“Ow.”
He was stuck headfirst in the monster’s huge maw, which was being held open by the Second Skin’s legs.
Hamish grinned. “I call this last indigestion.”
He spun up one of the speedslings and unleashed a devastating barrage right down the creature’s throat, ripping it apart and pouring explosive rounds down to its gullet. Using magnis, he triggered a spike located on the top side of the Second Skin’s back. It drove upward with unstoppable force and pierced the monster’s brain.
It exploded.
Although it looked to be made of granite on the outside, it was filled with hot air, and it exploded with a booming shockwave. The queen’s terrible voice shouted, “Death to all Builders and all revolutionaries!”
“Not if Connor kills you first,” Hamish growled, shaking his head to clear the effects of that explosion. Luckily the double shielding had held and protect him from the worst of it.
Hopefully Connor was doing okay and Kilian would arrive soon to help.
42
Some Days Just Keep Getting Worse
Connor struck the ground like a soft-sided meteor.
Queen Dreokt’s mental rampager was ravaging his mind so badly that he couldn’t se
em to establish a solid connection with air or with earth. So he struck so hard he felt every bone in his body splinter, and organs explode.
He panicked. His entire body was broken, splattered onto the ground. He was trapped in the blackness of his own mind. He had thought he was so strong, but he’d been a fool. He didn’t want to die, but only his flickering affinities were keeping him alive.
What if they faded away to nothing?
He’d expire in seconds. Needing to scream, but unable to move his lips or draw breath, all Connor had left was his mind, his fear, and his affinities. He scrambled to secure his connection to fleshcrafting, desperation only making things worse.
The elfonnel was dead. That meant fleshcrafting was broken and his access to it would begin to fade. That plan had sounded great when he imagined himself stomping the queen, but he was the one stomped, and the plan was going to kill him.
Somehow he felt no physical pain. That just made his unnatural limbo even worse. Would he linger, trapped in his mind with no working body forever? When fleshcrafting wore out, would dying hurt?
He really didn’t want to know.
But he couldn’t seem to organize his thoughts, or focus his will and his affinities. He tried encouraging himself. He was supposed to be great at battlefield creativity. He needed to snap out of it, heal himself, and get back into the fight.
The mental monster prowling through his thoughts whispered, “What will Queen Dreokt rip off next?”
He cringed, and the monster pressed the advantage, casting an imagine into his battered thoughts. He saw himself rise to face her, a pitiful wreck, and heard her scornful laughter and her words. “Are you serious? Didn’t I kill you enough already? Fine, I’ll hurt you some more.”
“No,” Connor told himself, trying to block out the dark whispers reminding him that he’d failed and urging him to give up and die. He couldn’t. He needed to . . . For a moment he wasn’t sure what he needed to do. He was locked in darkness, unable to see or hear or feel anything. It was cold and hopeless.
Verena.
Her name was like a spark kindled in darkness, the one tiny piece of warmth and hope he could cling to, but it seemed so fragile. He tried focusing on her name, fought to remember her face. The empty blackness of his mind lightened, and shapes started to appear. He saw Verena’s workroom in New Schwinkendorf, but it looked ethereal, the colors muted, the shapes indistinct. He couldn’t seem to bring it into sharp focus. The monster responded, trying to smother the view, his final spark of defiance.
“I guess abandoning us hasn’t work out so well for you, has it?” Fire stepped into the blurry image, and it sharpened into perfect detail. The workroom smelled of recently cut wood, hot metal, and the noxious scent of the various engine fuels Verena had been testing. Connor found himself standing in the room, like he often appeared in his affinityscape. Nearby, Fire lounged against one of the heavy work tables, his fine clothing patterned with varying colors of flame, gently smoldering. He looked rather satisfied.
Water appeared beside him, dressed in battle armor exactly like Verena’s. She gave Connor a sad look and said, “What did you expect, dear one? You rejected our help. You cannot defeat her alone.”
Connor realized that the queen’s mental monster had retreated from the elemntals. His thoughts felt clear, his mind awake from the dark, hazy fog she’d pulled over it. He was very happy to see the elementals. He’d missed them, and their return triggered the first real hope he could remember.
“I’m so glad you came.”
Earth and Air appeared nearby. Earth gave Connor a small bow, and Air waved happily, cheering him further. Water drew closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We sorrowed over your choice to turn away from us, but we’ve always been here, Connor. Please, let us help you.”
“How?” he couldn’t help asking, even though he knew he shouldn’t trust them. Her friendly face and kind touch were like a lifeline for his agonized mind.
She seemed to understand. “Open yourself to us. Become one with us, dear one, and we can heal you.”
“Rid the world of Dreokt’s insanity too,” Fire added.
“End the war and save your friends,” Air said earnestly.
“Thus all can achieve the full measure of their ultimate purpose,” Earth finished.
It was so very tempting. Connor yearned to say yes. He didn’t want to die, didn’t want to lie broken and defeated while the queen killed or tortured everyone he loved.
“What do you get if I help you?” he whispered.
Fire snorted a gout of flame. Earth scowled, and Air twirled away, floating above the workbench, arms thrown wide, growling with frustration. Water sighed. “You still wish to see us imprisoned when you yourself fight for unrestricted freedom.”
“You’ve claimed that before,” he told her. “That accusation really bothered me, but I realized you’re incorrect. I’m not fighting for unrestricted freedom. I’m fighting for the freedom from oppression. Even if we win, people will have laws.”
“Restrictions,” Fire growled, orange flames pouring out his eyes and coating his face. It made him look ghastly.
“Some restrictions are needed, like guard rails along a high cliff,” Connor argued. “I want freedom to live my life and freedom for my people to choose their course, but I’m also fighting against people like Queen Dreokt who want the freedom to destroy other people’s lives and their freedoms. Don’t you see, actions have consequences. We want enough freedom to live in peace.”
“You contradict yourself,” Air said.
“Hypocrisy,” Earth added, scowling. “You wish for freedom, but deny us the same freedom.”
That gave Connor a glimmer of hope. “Are you saying you wish freedom, but would not use that freedom to destroy people?”
“We are not monsters,” Water said smoothly, sounding earnest, her eyes filled with tiny cresting waves. “We again swear to you, Connor, that once freed, we will preserve this continent and only exact appropriate retribution upon the evil nation that imprisoned us. They live far from here, completely outside of your notice.”
“How much retribution?” he asked uneasily.
“What does it matter?” Fire snapped. “It’s our business, not yours.”
Water interjected, “Connor, we know how to use restraint. In fact, commit to us now and we can do far more than just save your life today.” She glanced at the others, who drew closer. “Commit to us, and we will swear a pact to you and your family for all time. We will follow your will, do whatever you want upon this land, and obey your every command.”
Fire added softly, “You will reign supreme over all elements.”
Connor hadn’t expected that, and as they spoke, somehow he could see the world as Water promised it. He saw himself crossing the land, with the elementals in physical form around him, bringing peace and prosperity to every corner. It was a beautiful image, and he started to smile.
Water nodded approvingly. “You love Verena, so we support her too. When you marry and bring forth children, our pact will continue through them. We will protect and preserve your seed for all time. Train them to rule with equity and honor and the justice you love to speak of, and we will ensure everyone across the entire land obeys your laws.”
“No more war. No more conflict,” Earth added.
“Think about it, Connor,” Air urged. “Think what we can accomplish together!”
It was a heady idea, and Connor felt swayed by their arguments. He did love Verena, and one of his greatest worries was that something bad might happen to her again. The queen might already be hurting her. That thought triggered a renewal of his panic. He could save her for all time, save everyone. All he had to do was give the elementals what they wanted in turn.
What did he care about people across the Sea of Olcan? They meant nothing to him, had rejected Queen Dreokt’s research and made her into the monster she became. If they hadn’t unleashed the elementals in the first place, the queen and her husband
wouldn’t have come to Obrion.
He was willing to sacrifice everything to win freedom. Was it so bad to exact a little sacrifice from people he didn’t even know to accomplish the same thing?
Maybe.
Connor looked from Water, who was smiling so sweetly, to Fire, who winked and nodded, to Air, who looked ready to hug and kiss him once he agreed, to Earth, who stood more stoically, but also looked so eager. He wanted to do it, wanted to help them so badly, but still he hesitated.
All of a sudden, a tidal wave of healing thundered into him, even though he was barely connected with sandstone. The healing power was so vast, but in his addled state it still took a few seconds to realize what he was feeling.
Verena. She had activated Sucker Punch and directed all of that healing into him. If only he could speak her name. He hated to think what she might be feeling, watching him get broken and thrown away like garbage.
The incredible influx of warm, comforting healing helped ground his thoughts and awaken his mind from the dark corner where Queen Dreokt had driven him. He envisioned Alasdair again, and his mindscape slowly altered to the town square. His family and friends began popping into view, and he grinned to see them. Their presence helped drive back the darkness of his despair, and the last vestiges of the queen’s mental monster evaporated like shadow and whispers.
The elementals came to Alasdair with him. They looked around in surprise, and Fire asked, “Really? You keep focusing on this place, even though it holds you back.”
Connor’s other affinities were solidifying again too, and he tapped obsidian, loving the sound of Verena’s laughter that echoed across the square. As his thoughts accelerated, Fire’s comment helped trigger a new understanding. “That’s why you kept encouraging me to cast my pain and consequences from fleshcrafting onto my bridge back to Alasdair. You want it to collapse,” he accused.
“Of course,” Fire said, although Water made a shushing gesture. He glanced around impatiently. “You humans are weak, bound down by your foolish humanity. You must cast off that restriction to unite with us.”