The war at the river Zitar Nuo

by Morgan La Femina

separated from the remaining soldiers. Abreon staggered to him, “I beseech you!”

  Two Xelon soldiers from the group hurried over plowing through the snow grabbing Abreon, “Shall we drag him back, Captain, Pertho?”

  “No, let him say his peace.”

  “But!”

  Commander Pertho annoyed, “He poses no threat.”

  The soldiers let Abreon go, and went back to their transports. Abreon nodding struggling to straighten himself. He was weak from lack of food and hard labor. The Commander sipped a cup of warm tea, “Speak.”

  Abreon moved closer to him, “Let us rest sir, their dying.”

  The Commander looking back at his prisoners, looking back at Abreon, distraught, “I cannot.”

  Abreon pleading, “Why?”

  “Because others have a far greater power than me.”

  Abreon kneeling to him, “You are a reasonable man, I can see it, I can see your soul.”

  “But, I am ordered to work your people until they perish or ninety days.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Abreon in the melting snow, “You can help us, help me personally.”

  Pertho a bit surprised, “What?”

  “Commander if you help me, you will benefit yourself immensely.”

  Pertho looking about and then in hushed tones, “How so?”

  “You will rise to greater rank and authority among your army. I too had rank, and you have greater, but help me and you will rise to the rank of General.”

  Captain Pertho frowned and looking down at the snow spoke low and slow, “So then, I will help you discreetly, not because of power, but because it is just and good.”

  Abreon standing: “Then you are very wise, indeed.”

  Six

  As they Nenthar died off in the snow, in the bitter cold, as one by one they passed, the work long and arduous, the wasting taking its toll Abreon prayed to survive. They remainder would work, with heavy machinery always nearby and incessant. Those men and women whom did survive grew in their knowledge of the work they had done. Surprisingly, they were promoted within the system, of course only to a certain extent, but even that was unusual. As the days grew longer and warmer, as spring began to bum away the ice and snow, Abreon was promoted and then with his alliance with Pertho was promoted again. Thus, when rotation was over, Danavar and the old man and he chose to stay in large part because they were saved from the hammer. They now had a better chance of survival in the mine then back at the prison camp. Abreon was sent out to the loader and picker station, on the outskirts of a blast site.

  The crane ascended some prisoners with protective suits and hats inside it were watching. As it climbed higher supporting itself on its struts, bolted into the rock face of the mine and along its vertical face Abreon worked. He carefully moved along one of the steel walkways suspended near the crane. He watched it move and then turned around. It was Marcy. Abreon, shocked, quickly grabbed the walkways railings to prevent him from stumbling backward.

  Marcy yelped, “Oh!”

  Abreon laughing, “You seem to have the gift of survival!”

  “Thanks B2.” Marcy hugging him, kissing him on the cheek, “I am so glad you are alive.”

  ‘‘What about Drean?”

  “Drean is alive. Many others are…”

  A technician soldier pushed them apart, “Time now to work or you'll head back to the rock quarries. Don’t forget that.”

  Then another technician, “You have to help heat rivets, come with me.”

  Marcy smiling and leaving for her work assignment, “You work is never done soldier, Nenthar.”

  Indeed, it was never had been. Abreon struggled to be more than what he felt he was, he strived to succeed against his limited abilities and ways. He grew learning as he went. Abreon plotted and eventually with Pertho’s help again was promoted for a second time. Abreon underwent training to operate the picker. He was sent back and then he drew his plans, in a meeting behind the closed doors of one of the mines office suites.

  They all sat around a steel rectangular table. Those who were present where huddled over the blue prints of the picker. Marcy looked them over then shook her head: “Pertho, how did you acquire such a room?”

  Pertho rubbed his head, “Someone owes me.”

  Rufus: “What are we to do?”

  Drean: “Yes.”

  Abreon looking about, “This will be a practice run for one of the worst disaster the Xelon Dru have ever seen. This should be effective enough to provide clearance in the factory. Four spring encased hydraulic struts support the picker. Each strut is in turn supported by rock below, which is unstable. However, they have reinforced the supports with concrete. We are to sever the struts from the base rock, causing the picker to collapse upon itself and tear the rock beneath it from the terrace. The rock terrace then will partially collapse.”

  “How are we to do that?” Questioned Danvar.

  Pertho: “We use a special powerful corrosive called Lire. It is a compound that when spread onto metal; it combines to form a salt and a gas, destroying the metal's integrity.”

  Danvar rubbing his beard: “How are we to use it then?”

  “It’s only corrosive when applied to metal. It is safe to handle, but we will to apply it with thick gloves because the reaction occurs while you apply it.”

  Abreon pointing on the prints, “We are to apply it here, here, here and here along each strut.”

  Drean, “How will they not know?”

  Pertho: “They only do maintenance checks on the massive picker every two weeks.” 

  Marcy, “Then?”

  Pertho: “Then we wait until the day before they do the checks.”

  Abreon nodded in agreement, “The compound takes a day to fully react with steel that thick. We will apply it early before our shift, while the third shift is ending, that way the change in shift and the disarray involved will be to our advantage.”

  Pertho, “The compound is clear, no one will see it. I will provide it.”

  Abreon: “We spread it on that day. I will operate the picker from atop inside the cab and go about my position normally, lifting and lowering rock from the quarry. The second day I will again operate the picker. During that day, when the second load is lifted Pertho will be informed from you Marcy that the pickers struts have been compromised. Pertho will then contact higher authorities as I swing the load. This will cause the struts to shear from themselves. This will cause the whole multi-ton picker to collapse, bringing the end of the terrace down as well and many Xelon Dru’s.”

  Drean concerned: “How will you survive?”

  “The cab has adequate protection. It has a strong roll cage. I will not be harmed excessively.”

  Danvar, pointing to the map: “Who will disable the rear pylons for the picker? The pylons descend to the face of the terrace. You would have to lower yourself down by rope until you come in contact with the base of the unit.”

  Abreon looked about the table, “Whoever attempts to disable the rear pylons will go down, but cannot go back up for the risk of detection would be too great. It must be done, for this is a stepping stone toward the greater prize, the factory.”

  Everyone was bound up by his or her own emotions, except for the old man. He stood and leaned over the blueprints, “I will go. Everyone at this table is taking a risk and everyone at this table might die. If I don’t go and do it more of my people will die, the factory will stand and the aggression will continue.”

  Abreon peered down from the cab of the picker. He peered a hundred meters down to the heavy rock being loaded upon the steel trough, the cabling that held it a heavy gage. The cable bound itself to the comers of the trough and to a latch, the latch connected to still another latch. More cabling of steel composite traveling up to the picker’s boom. The boom then was attached to the cabs superstructure and its engines. The yellow cab was supported beneath the red superstructure, its glass shielding permitting a wide angl
ed view of the earth below. Abreon’s seat was suspended above the glass floor, which ended where his controls began.

  The cab’s controls were upon floating steel bars, wrapping the cab, about the windows and ending below his feet. The computerized controls and gages were above him with a few key indicators at a center console. The cab’s features also included a rear-facing seat. The two seats were suspended from the superstructure of the cab, a four-point harness for the chest, two straps for his thighs and footrest to place his feet held in Abreon. Fire suppressant and compressive gel packs were arrayed in the cab at various locations. They reacted to both heat and impact. The gel was a blue oxygen rich insulator, which smothered the flames, or shielded the operator from the stress of compression or impact. The fire would burst the gel or impact causing it to explode. Breathing was supplied by inhaling the gel. Once the gel filled a person’s lungs, oxygen transfer would take place.

  Abreon waited, he could feel the pylons undermine themselves. He waited for his chance to rise to prominence and destroy the facility, ending the oppression of the Nenthar by the Xelon Dru solider/corporate worker. This would start the end. The end would start the beginning; the fight for it would be at hand. Abreon would sacrifice his life perhaps for it, but he was confident that the safety devices present in the cab would prevent this and then it was time. Abreon pressed indicators on the controls lifting the heavy rock from the ground. The rock ascended in the bucket of the lifter toward him and the cab. As the bucket was pulled up by the machines engines, he