Isle of Broken Years

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Isle of Broken Years Page 31

by Jane Fletcher


  Now the Minotaur reacted to the threat. It struck out furiously, but all this achieved was to entwine itself tighter. The drones became ensnared. One was clipped by an axe, and Catalina’s was crushed when the Minotaur stumbled to its knees, but their task was done. The Minotaur was bound. Catalina lowered her controller. Sam and Horatio were moving in, as was Torvold, while Floyd and Madison circled in search of a clear shot.

  Horatio reached the Minotaur first. One hugely muscled arm punched free of the net. Horatio sidestepped a backswing and whipped his sword across, slicing though the Minotaur’s wrist. The axe clanged to the ground. The hand oozed yellow blood, yet still gripped the shaft. The Minotaur bellowed, louder, longer, and deeper than before. Was it anger, or pain?

  On the other side, Sam stabbed into the heart of the tangled mass of cord, cutting through body and net. The Minotaur surged upward, another hand broke free, but its head and feet were hopelessly entangled, and the Minotaur crashed back to its knees. Horatio was there, ready. His sword flashed out, plunging deep between the curved horns. The Minotaur lunged at him, its momentum causing the blade to effortlessly slice its own head in half.

  Still the monster moved.

  Horatio jumped back out of the way, but his foot caught in the net and he went down. Sam moved in closer. Her next strike severed the left leg. The Minotaur collapsed, but its one free hand continued to flail wildly. It was only bad luck that the axe struck Horatio’s thigh. Catalina heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone. Horatio had been trying to stand. He collapsed in a spray of red.

  Torvold stood behind the monster. He grabbed the net in both hands, hauling it away from Horatio, while Sam continued her attack. She chopped off the hand that had struck Horatio, and then sliced through the Minotaur’s neck. The head swung around, trapped in the net by its horns.

  And still the Minotaur fought on.

  Madison took aim, firing four shots directly into the raw neck stump, producing a splatter of yellow, and at last the monster’s movements began to weaken. Torvold picked up Horatio’s sword and joined in. The plasma blades were turning the net into lengths of loose cord, but the battle was won. The Minotaur was no longer a threat. Yet, even after it had been cut into a dozen pieces, the fingers still twitched and the eyes rolled in its head.

  The castaways gathered around Horatio.

  “How is he?” Liz asked.

  “’Fraid I won’t be able to run very fast,” Horatio answered through gritted teeth.

  “Broken leg. Losing a lot of blood. But he caught more of the flat than the edge of the axe,” Yaraha said.

  “He’ll need a splint before you move him. Luckily, I thought to bring this.” Liz tossed over the tube of pain-relieving spray.

  “I will carry you, my friend.” Torvold patted Horatio’s shoulder.

  “Dashed decent of you to offer, old thing, but you might need a bit of help.”

  “While you sort him out, I’ll check on uploading the program.” Liz tapped Catalina’s arm. “Come with me and help.”

  The upper room was a tenth the size of the lower one. It was dimly lit, with walls covered in static display screens and control panels. The rows of blinking lights seemed bright in the gloom. Liz pulled Meriones’s notes from her bag, along with the memory stick and the alien glove.

  She passed the notes to Catalina. “Where’s the interface we need?”

  “Over there.”

  The screen flickered to life when Liz placed her gloved hand on it. An aperture, the right size for the memory stick, opened up. Catalina needed only a minute to work through the notes. Having the controls before them made Meriones’s instructions far easier to follow than the usual cryptic Greek texts.

  “It’s all set. You just need to press here. The upload will start, and then…” Catalina bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

  “You’re not going to start a pointless argument, are you, dear?”

  “No. I just wish there was another way.”

  “So do I, dear. So do I. But at least I’m going to achieve something worthwhile. Go out on a high note.”

  Catalina wrapped Liz in a hug. “I can’t think of anything to say.” Take care, or some similar trite phrase, would not work.

  “Then don’t say anything.” Liz returned the hug. “Come. Let’s see how the others have got on.”

  Horatio’s face was pale. His leg was splinted, using a deactivated sword and several pieces of cord. Another length was tied tightly around his thigh, slowing the flow of blood.

  “I’m all set with the upload. I’ll give you two hours before I get it running,” Liz said. “Now, I want you to bugger off, because I hate big good-byes.”

  Despite this, the castaways showed no urge to leave. Floyd shuffled his feet. “You can’t expect—”

  The door opened. Catalina spun around, dreading another Minotaur, even as she recognized the “Meea, meea, meea.”

  The spider-like caretaker scuttled across the room to the Minotaur’s writhing torso. A blaze of brilliant blue-white light spluttered from its front appendages as it started to reattach a piece of leg, for all the world like one of the metalworkers Catalina read of in the Greeks books.

  “Shit.” Floyd spoke for them all.

  Liz’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t think about whether caretakers can repair other bio-robots. But I guess it’s obvious, really. The buggers can’t keep going forever. They’re bound to break down from time to time.”

  Floyd stood over the caretaker, holding his rifle. “There’s no point in shooting this one, is there?”

  “No, we’ll just get more turning up. All we can do is slow down the repair work. Though I don’t doubt more will arrive, when this one fails to make progress. You need to go. Now. Run. I’ll wait until the Minotaur is getting to a dangerous state, before I start the upload. After that, you’ll have as long as it takes the caretakers to repair the sabotage.” Liz waved her arms. “So what are you waiting for? Run.”

  “We can try again another day.”

  “And hope the Minotaur hasn’t learned from this defeat? You’re never going to get a better chance. Go. Now.” Liz pushed the nearest two people, Ricardo and Madison. “Go.”

  Floyd resisted a moment longer, but then sharply raised his right hand, palm down, to touch his eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am.” He tossed the rifle to her, then turned to the rest. “Okay. Come on, folks. Move out.”

  He and Torvold bent to pick up Horatio.

  “No. Leave me. I’ll stay with Liz. Even you two can’t carry me and run.” Horatio pushed their hands away. “My own silly fault. Too many second helpings.”

  “You are not serious.”

  “Yes, I am. You need to run like the clappers. I’ll slow you down.”

  “But—”

  “YOU’RE WASTING BLOODY TIME.” Catalina had never heard Liz shout before.

  The shared paralysis broke. Everyone rushed to the exit, except for Catalina, who stood, refusing to accept they were out of options. There had to be another way. Then Sam grabbed her hand and towed her away. At the door, Catalina grabbed the frame, hanging on for one last look back.

  Horatio had slid across the floor to where the caretaker was working. He had reactivated the second plasma sword and was chopping at the Minotaur.

  Liz stood in the entrance to the hallway, rifle in hand. “So, tell me, what was your honest impression of Charles Darwin?”

  “Well, if you want the truth, he was a bit of a bore. Kept going on about these wretched little birds on a group of islands he’d visited.”

  The door whooshed shut. Catalina would never see either of them again.

  Sam jerked her away. “Come on.”

  Already, the others were far down the corridor, turning a corner. The control room was deep in the heart of the labyrinth. Catalina put an effort into running. The intended practice had not happened, but this time it was easier to keep her feet under her. Was fear making the difference? Even so, Catalina felt her heart was about to bur
st by the time they rounded the final corner and saw the others, waiting in the elevator.

  Torvold’s outstretched arm was holding the door open for them. It clipped Catalina’s heel as Sam dragged her in. She had just about regained her balance when her insides lurched and they started the ascent. Sam held her up. Nobody spoke, but she could read the same question on everyone’s face. How long did they have? Catalina could imagine the elevator, inching its way up the tower. Surely it had never taken so long before.

  The door opened. They spilled out and ran on, through the foyer and out into the pit. Catalina’s lungs were on fire. Her breath rasped in her throat and her legs burned. She did not know how she would manage the stairs on the docking station. Then Torvold picked her up and carried her to their goal. Floyd was tapping in the destination code as they piled aboard.

  After the frantic race, the flying platform drifted serenely on its journey. Catalina elbowed her way to the control panel. Was there really no “go faster” button? But would she dare press a cryptic Greek command, knowing it might do the opposite of what she expected? The platform glided into the tunnel.

  Catalina closed her eyes. What was happening back in the control room? Had the Minotaur been repaired yet? It would surely kill both Horatio and Liz in an instant. Catalina imagined Liz, finger hovering over the upload button, listening to the pounding footsteps, climbing the steps, getting closer. Liz would wait until the very last second. Tears ran down Catalina’s face.

  Never had the flying platform been so slow. Eons passed before they emerged into sunlight again, but at last they were clear of the tower. Just a quarter mile to go. Catalina could see the docking station and the Okeechobee Dawn moored nearby.

  They were halfway across the innermost sea when a low, throbbing whistle began. Catalina looked back. The outline of the tower was blurring, shimmering as though seen through a heat haze. A blast of wind buffeted the platform. The sky changed from blue to gunmetal gray, and fog erased the horizon. The reprogrammed caretakers had repaired the Greek sabotage. Atlantis was jumping, a precursor to the alien ship’s departure.

  The throb got faster, while the pitch of the whistling rose, climbing so high it was pressure, rather than sound. A light blossomed deep inside the tower. Within seconds, it was so bright it turned the walls incandescent. Catalina turned her face away, but felt the heat on the back of her neck. The whistle snapped like a whip-crack, so loud it hurt her ears.

  And then nothing. The wind dropped. The sky turned blue.

  When Catalina looked back at the tower, at first it seemed nothing had changed, but then it began to crumple inward, like a sand castle on the beach when the tide comes in. The platform coasted to a halt.

  “We’re falling,” Madison shouted.

  The platform was sinking, steadily gathering speed, dropping toward the waves. Catalina hit a button. There was no longer anything to risk by the attempt. A jolt, and the platform steadied and continued its flight.

  “What did you do?” Floyd asked.

  “Reserve potency in extreme situations. I started the emergency backup power supply.”

  Would it be enough? Atlantis was already starting to topple. The islands ahead were thinning as sea washed over the land, while behind the crumbling tower, the other side of the rings were lifting. Eventually, no doubt, the entire island would go under, but for now, as one half sank, the other half rose.

  Catalina looked at the newly exposed substructure. It had always been obvious that Atlantis was artificial. Now its true form was revealed, as what had been below water level lifted into view. The island rings were D-shaped bands in cross section, set on the rims of two massive bowls.

  Catalina thumped her fist on the control panel. On backup power, the platform was going even slower than before. They glided over the flooded inner island. The docking station was now mere yards away, but the base was submerged. Waves broke around the bottom of the steps, and the seaplane was no longer moored nearby. Surely Babs had not abandoned them.

  The flying platform docked, but the deck was tilted at an angle. Catalina clung to a rail to prevent herself from sliding off. Would the piranhas still be active? Or would they be lifeless, without a supply of energy? Catalina gripped still tighter. Regardless, where could they go? Around them, treetops and buildings jutted above the waves, but the lawns and paths were gone.

  Atlantis was sinking faster, the slope of the deck getting more acute. Its edge was nearly touching the waves. Catalina looked down at a series of mini-whirlpools forming in the backwash. Then she heard a buzzing. The sound grew louder, closer. The Inflatable was coming across the raging water, bouncing from crest to crest, with Kali at the helm.

  The spinning whirlpool were getting ever wilder, deeper, faster. Waves surged back and forth, crests splashing spray. Yet, somehow, Kali avoided all hazards, without losing speed. She brought the boat closer to the deck than Catalina would have thought possible, pulsing the motor to keep the boat in place.

  “You’ll have to jump.”

  Ricardo went first. Three long steps down the slope and then off. He landed in the boat. Madison, Yaraha, and Torvold followed.

  “Will you be all right?” Sam shouted in Catalina’s ear.

  “One way to find out.”

  Catalina loosened her grip on the rail. On her last step, her foot slipped on the wet deck and she fell rather than jumped forward. She crashed into the side of the Inflatable, head inside, legs in the water. Before she had a chance to move, Torvold grabbed the waistband of her shorts and flipped her in. She landed painfully on a sack containing small hard objects.

  Sam and Floyd arrived last. “We’re all here.”

  “Where’s Horatio?”

  “He got hurt. Stayed with Liz.”

  “Sit tight then. Here we go.” Kali turned up the motor, full throttle. The Inflatable leapt forward, across the churning sea. Waves broke over the bow. The inner sea had always been calm and gentle, but not now. The sea was boiling as Atlantis sank. Catalina clung to Sam with one hand and the bench with the other to stop herself from being pitched overboard. Through the salt spray stinging her eyes, she saw the Okeechobee Dawn ahead, riding the surf.

  “What happened? Did something go wrong?” Kali shouted over the chaos.

  “Kind of,” Floyd answered. “We didn’t allow for a caretaker turning up to repair the Minotaur.”

  “We wondered about it. When the island started to sink, Babs moved the seaplane away from land, where the waves aren’t so wild.”

  The waters were indeed becoming less violent, although still far from smooth. Yaraha leaned over, “Torvold, you can go. Take Horatio’s place in the plane.”

  “No. You take his place. I will stay in the boat.”

  Kali cut the motor. “No. You’re both going.”

  “There isn’t room.”

  “Yes, there is, because I’m not leaving that damn fool man of mine.”

  Ricardo looked shocked. “Kali! You said you’d go on the plane.”

  “I never did. You’re mine. If you think I’m letting you get away, you don’t understand me at all.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.”

  Babs was waiting in the open door. “Systems are up and running.” She grabbed the mooring rope Floyd threw to her.

  The castaways scrambled into the seaplane, until only Torvold, Kali, and Ricardo were left.

  “Torvold. Get in the plane now. I’m staying with Rico.”

  Torvold patted Ricardo’s shoulder. “My grandfather was a wise man. He told me never to argue with a woman when she uses that tone of voice.”

  Ricardo closed his eyes. “Okay, go. I’m going to marry a crazy woman.”

  Torvold pulled himself into the seaplane. As he closed the door he shouted, “And let her drive.”

  But already Kali had set off, racing the Inflatable across the wild water.

  Babs called out. “Sit tight. This will be a rough takeoff, if we make it. We don’t have seat bel
ts, so just hang on.”

  “To what?” Torvold asked.

  “Anything.”

  Catalina was wedged into a space on the floor. A noise grew, similar to that of the outboard motor, but deeper—a roar, not a buzz. Catalina felt the seaplane shake. It was accelerating, faster and faster. Even without being able see out, Catalina knew the speed surpassed anything she had ever experienced. The force squashed her into Sam. The Okeechobee Dawn jumped as if it was being kicked by giants. The frame rattled, sounding at the point of falling apart. Then a jolt, bigger than any that had gone before, followed by the sensation of being in an elevator. The front of the plane rose, pressing Catalina still harder into Sam. They were flying.

  Torvold could not restrain himself. He struggled to his knees so he could look out the window. “Oh yes. Oh yes. Look. We are like birds.”

  Catalina joined him. The sea was dropping away below. The last of Atlantis poked through a huge disc of raging water and white surf.

  “Can you see the Inflatable?” Sam asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

  “I hope so.”

  The Okeechobee Dawn climbed higher. A wisp of fog blurred the scene, and then cleared briefly before more fog swept by. No, not fog Catalina realized. The Okeechobee Dawn was flying into the clouds. She looked back for a last glimpse of Atlantis, and then it was gone.

  * * *

  A row of lights appeared on the horizon, beneath the last faint glow of sunset.

  “Is that a city?” Catalina asked.

  “Yes.”

  The cockpit was cramped. She and Madison stood behind Babs’s chair, stretching their legs and trying not to tread on anyone.

  “How big is it?” The lights continued unbroken as far as Catalina could see.

  “Depends which city it is. Do we know how far north we are?” Madison asked Babs.

  “I’d guess at somewhere around Daytona Beach, but I could be off by miles.” She grinned at them. “Shall we say between Jacksonville and Miami?”

  “Home sweet home.” Floyd was sitting in the chair beside Babs. His face looked strange, lit only by the instrument panel. “I grew up in Jacksonville, before my folks moved north. I reckon it’ll have changed some.”

 

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