by Lee Watts
"Then…" Pipaluk stammered, "then we're free. It's over."
"No," Shania asserted. "There are still the Dridmor on the Rhias, and they'll be here soon."
"How many are there?" Merrick asked.
"I saw three dozen during that portal ceremony, but there might be more."
"LOOK," Pipaluk shouted while pointing at one of the crashed assault shuttles.
All turned to see what startled her. Staggering out from the nearest wreck was a lone figure. It took a few steps then collapsed in the sand.
"They're not gone," Pipaluk said with heart sinking.
Merrick was distrustful of Rew's proclamation being incorrect. Gripping his battlestaff, he went to check it out. Warily, he approached the ship and survivor who was lying face first on the ground. Turning the unconscious body over revealed a face Merrick knew well; the person wasn't Ramillie - not even a person at all.
"A Dridmor," Merrick announced as he lowered the body from his shoulders placing him on the stone floor of the temple.
"Why did you bring him here?" Pipaluk asked with fright.
"Information," Merrick answered. From the well next to the temple, Merrick filled a bucket with water then went back to the Dridmor and gushed it in the man's face. Rudely revived, the immortal spat and cursed as he cleared water from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Looking up, he recognized the Guardian standing over him.
"Merrick," he sneered loathingly. "What are you doing here?"
"Asking you questions," Merrick answered, "and you better answer them."
"You piece of filth; I'm not telling you anything," the Dridmor spat.
Merrick placed his heel against the Dridmor's throat, pressing firmly.
"How many Dridmor are on the way?" Merrick demanded. Turning deep red, the man on the floor clutched at Merrick's boot but couldn't dislodge it. The defiant look on his face showed he had no intention of cooperating. Intensifying the pressure, Merrick repeated his question.
"HOW MANY?"
In voiceless hatred the strangled man glared up at the Guardian then the Dridmor's eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out a second time. Merrick removed his boot, and with disappointment, stared at the contorted face of a being he had once called friend.
"My guess is every Dridmor in the Citadel was at that ceremony," Shania figured. As she looked about the room, she added, "That still leaves us outnumbered by about five or so."
"We've got to get the keys out of here before the Dridmor arrive," Merrick urged.
"What about my ship?" Shania proposed. "Its lightdrive is working. It'll only fit one person, but we can give the keys to whomever pilots it, and they can get out before the Dridmor show up."
"Good idea," Merrick said, "but if one person has all the keys, then all the Dridmor have to do is to capture that one person. You said they need all the keys to make the portal work, right?"
Shania nodded.
"Then I say the twelve of us each take a key and split up. That way even if they do capture some of us they'll never recollect them all," Merrick suggested.
"Sounds good," Shania responded, but we still need to get somebody off-world before the Dridmor get here - just in case."
Merrick agreed. The Guardians discussed it among themselves, but each was reluctant to leave before the coming battle. At last one of them volunteered.
"I'll go," the Guardian Tycon offered. "I've been working with a group fighting the Ramillie. They've stockpiled a bunch of those old Plyeecian stones on a dead world. There's not a habitable planet in that system, even if someone does discover it, they'll have no cause to suspect I'm there."
"But Tycon," Merrick said, "If you do that you could be there till the great and final day."
Tycon smiled.
"If it keeps the Dridmor from ever opening that portal then it's a small price to pay."
"But they will open the portal," Seer Rew put in.
The Guardians turned to look at the prophet.
"The Elder has revealed it to me," Rew explained. "The portal will eventually be activated, and all the keyholders… will die." His countenance showed he was almost ashamed of the prophecy, but it made it no less true. "I'm sorry, but these things must come to pass."
Looking to each other, the Guardians strengthened their resolved and determination with silent communication.
"So be it," Merrick declared. "The Elder's will be done, but that doesn't mean the Dridmor will win today."
"Fools," spat the again awake and eavesdropping Dridmor who Merrick had knocked out. "They'll find you," he rasped, rubbing the boot imprint on his neck. "No matter where you go, where you hide – they'll find you. Your own prophet said so. You're all going to die," he jeered with a wicked smile.
Merrick's eyes bore into the fallen one.
"But not today," he replied.
From the radio at Merrick's side came Gareth's voice.
"Ship's sensors are picking up a group of life signs heading this way fast from the desert."
Merrick acknowledged, and Tycon knew he needed to leave immediately. Shania told him the location and access codes of her ship then he rushed off into the night.
"They're too close," Shania said while looking through a borrowed set of electric binoculars. "They'll be on him before he gets to the ship."
"We need a delay," Merrick mused aloud while seeking inspiration. Lifting his radio, he called to the Vault Keeper. "Gareth, can you get airborne?"
"Negative," he answered. "I can start up the engines, but right now all that'll do is kick up a bunch of sand.
"Perfect," Merrick responded. "Kick up as much as you can, hurry!"
A moment later the whine of the starship's engines wound up, and sand began whipping in a frenzy all around the temple. It created a crude, but effective smoke screen. The air, more thick with fine brown dust than sand, completely blocked all ability to see out of or into the structure. Blaring loudly, the engine's roar drowned out all voices. Taking cover on the open second level of the room, the Elderites prayed as they awaited the Dridmor assault. On the ground level, standing in a large circle, each of the Guardians held their battlestaff firmly, ready to separate the blades at a moment's notice. Time seemed to pass unbearably long as all they could do was wait for the unholy ones. Squinting through the thick haze, Merrick thought he saw something. Half a second later he identified the object, a burning blade. A second flaming weapon appeared adjacent to it, followed by a third, the numbers increased until the building was surrounded by a ring of fiery blades. As the ring of fire tightened, the Guardians drew their own swords, preparing to engage the fallen ones. Through the whipping sand, each group of immortals saw only the flaming swords of the opposing force. Merrick and the other Guardians stood back to back in a wide circle, waiting. The ring of weapons from another plane burned brightly, and if this was to be his end, Merrick thought it was indeed glorious to make his final stand in such a cause. Bright and glorious, it was all he was promised and all he wanted to fulfill. Then, bursting through the sandy mist, charged dozens of crazed and ravenous Rhia ready to devour everyone.
CHAPTER 43
"For among my people are found wicked men: they lay wait, as he that setteth snares; they set a trap, they catch men." – Jeremiah 5:26
"Where is the King?" Colonel Ortiz asked.
"Gone," answered Yilib Wasi.
"Gone? What do you mean gone?"
From the looks on their faces, it was clear this was also news to the queen and the others.
"Where did he go?" Cheyenne asked.
"I wasn't to say, Majesty," Yilib sheepishly answered with a wince, "but considering the circumstances… well… he left to retrieve some ancient weapons in hopes of using them against the Ramillie."
"Is Imenand with him?" Aulani asked with concern.
"Yes," Yilib answered. "He accompanied them."
"Them? Who are them?" Cheyenne asked.
Yilib realized he had let something slip, but it was too late to backpedal.
/> "Salazar Yorin," he answered.
"SALAZAR?" Colonel Ortiz exclaimed in astonishment. "What in the worlds was he doing here?"
"I don't know all the details," Yilib said meekly, "but as far as I could gather, he was offering the Realm weapons in exchange for something the king has."
"What could that possibly be?" Cheyenne asked.
"I'm afraid I don't know the details, but I do know where they went."
"I can't believe this," Ortiz puffed in frustration. "There's nothing we can do from here. Our first priority is to get everyone back to the Indomitable then we can go after the king." Turning, he headed back to the door. "Marines, prepare to move out."
***
Salazar's ship descended into the dark clouds of the world that's name was long since lost to time. Even the races who once spoke the name were themselves extinct or moved beyond that galaxy. Imenand piloted the ship with Alexander aboard, and they followed the vessel of the king's half-brother into the dense haze. As flashes of lightning illuminated the blacked skies of the gathering storm, the two ships exited beneath the cloud cover and lowered to the rocky, barren surface. The atmosphere, though technically breathable, was stale and dry. The boarding ramp lowered, and Alexander stepped out onto the alien world. The wind howled down from distant mountain range, whipping the dry, rust-colored dust to flight. Each of the three visitors wore a mask for eye protection. Arid and cracked, the ground was lifeless - evidencing that the soon-to-break storm was long overdue. Though day, the heavy clouds mostly obscured the light. Anxious for shelter from the gusts, Salazar pointed the way to the subterranean structure with its entrance embedded in a rock face. Leading the trio inside, he shut the door behind them. Salazar pushed a panel by the door, activating low powered lights that dimly illuminated the chamber. When Salazar removed his goggles, the others followed suit.
Imenand ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair as he gazed about the vast, oval-shaped room. One wide passage was directly in front of them, with two more, narrower doorways on either side. Though the doors were metal, the walls were rock. It was a half artificial, half natural construct, and it was hard to tell where one ended, and the other began.
"Which way?" Alexander asked.
"Follow me," his half-brother answered.
Leading them deeper into the complex, Salazar showed them row upon row of warehouse size rooms. Some housed the hand-sized stones like Salazar had used to threaten Saqir others were the size of a man, while some were are large as trees and houses. Alexander walked between two rows of the dark brown rocks.
"What are these lines here?" he asked.
"It has something to do with the arming sequence," Salazar answered. "The lines start to glow with yellow light when a Ramillie gets close. When it reaches the flash point, well, you don't want to be around when that happens. They also start to hum; the harmonics rise in pitch as it nears detonation. I was able to do some... experimenting when I was Regent. I learned the larger the rock, the more Ramillie it takes to detonate one. I guess that way it ensured the makers wouldn't waste their ammunition."
"What about the explosive force?"
Salazar smiled wickedly as he answered.
"Like nothing you've ever seen."
"What else is in this place?" Alexander asked.
With a jerk of his head, Salazar indicated for Alexander to follow him. Next, he led them to a room where a metallic door was bashed and jammed half open. Imenand noticed the force that destroyed the door was pushing out not in. They edged their way inside. Human skulls and scattered bones were about the room. There was some equipment covered in centuries of dust. The longtime inert machines evidenced deep dents, and some obviously had their inner components ripped from them violently.
"What happened here?" Alexander asked.
"This might give you a clue," Salazar answered as he pointed around the corner of the room.
Stepping to see, Alexander and Imenand saw the adjoining room was lined by three levels of walkways and cages of various sizes. All of the doors were open and ancient blood streaks still stained the floor.
"Something got loose," Imenand deduced.
"I always intended to come back and see if any information could be retrieved from the computers," Salazar added.
"What else is in this place?" Alexander asked.
"What's not," replied Salazar. "Libraries, other labs, living quarters, rooms with machines and components I've not even had the time to-"
"We don't have time for this," Imenand interrupted. "Discovery and exploration can wait. Alexander, your war with the Ramillie must come second," Imenand insisted with great seriousness. "All that matters is finding the key. If we let it fall into the hands of the Dridmor, then all is lost. Trust me, you'd rather accept Ramillie rule than what will come through that portal if it's activated. We'll get the Plyeecian weapons later."
Alexander nodded.
"He's right. There are larger things at stake here. How do we find a way to the center?"
"Let's get one thing straight," Salazar clarified, "There's no we here. I'm not going with you. I once saw some of the things living down there, and I don't care to see them again. If you want to go down there suit yourself, but you'll do it without me."
"Fine," Alexander said. "Just show the way."
Salazar led them through a winding series of narrow tunnels, at last exiting in a large room similar to the first. A heavy steel hatch, resembling those Alexander had seen on sailing ships, sealed over the hole leading to the under levels. Imenand turned the wheel-like crank moving the thick, locking bar out of position. Then, with great effort, it took the strength of all three men to slide the massive covering out of the way.
"This is as far as I go," Salazar announced.
"What's down there?" Alexander asked with concern.
"The surface of this planet may be lifeless, but it sure isn't down there," Salazar warned. "I only went down once, and I was a lot better armed than either of you are. There were these… animals," he said in revulsion of the very thought of the creatures. "I think they were mammals, but they had multiple eyes like spiders. Their eyes glowed like night predators, and the things make a horrid, hissing growl. I'm not sure what else is down there, but those things have to live off of something."
Peering into the hole, Alexander didn't see a way down.
"That's got to be five, six meters to the ground," he estimated. "How do we get down, and more importantly, back up?"
"The same way they lowered things down there," Salazar said as he looked up.
Following Salazar's gaze, Alexander noticed a thick chain with a hook at the end.
"They must have lowered a cage down by the bars," Alexander reasoned. "Does the control mechanism still work?"
"Whatever power supply it used is long since depleted," Salazar answered, "but I connected a power cell to it last time and..."
As he spoke, he walked over to the control mechanism and removed the power cell from his weapon then attached it to the battery leads of the device. With a clank, the machine came to life. Salazar pulled a lever, and the heavy chain lowered into the pit.
"I don't really know if you're coming back, but I doubt it. I've lived up to my end of the deal, Alexander. So, I think you should give the bracer to me now."
Alexander gave a lopsided grin as he shook his head.
"No way. This is my insurance that you will leave the chain so we can get back out."
"I can't afford to take the chance you won't make it back," Salazar protested.
"It's a chance you're going to have to take," Alexander affirmed, "but I'll tell you this, the moment I return the bracer is yours."
Salazar glared at his half-brother but saw no choice in the matter.
"Hurry back safe," he added in a highly sarcastic tone.
Alexander reflected the emotion with a clearly superficial smile then looked to Imenand who nodded. Pulling out his battlestaff, the immortal gave a hungry grin.
"We'l
l find him," he said then leaped down the hole, not bothering to ease his way down. Alexander flinched at the move while envying the immortals unnatural strength. The king then grabbed the chain and lowered himself into the darkened underworld.
***
Gliding silently through space, two United Realm starfighters made the long and eventless flight traversing the vast distance between the Entauri system's sixth and fifth planets. Ian was bored out of his mind. He hoped the mission would give him a chance to prove he was the best pilot in the squadron; instead, the mission was turning out to mostly be sitting and watching sensor readings.
Dakota, on the other hand, piloting the coveted Dagger class fighter, was like a kid in a candy store. However, since he also had little to do but sit and wait, he was like a kid with no money in a candy store.
Trying to break the tedium, Ian probed for information.
"I was watching you in the rec room last night. Just between you and me, how do you do that pea and cup thing anyway?"
"It's all about misdirection," Dakota explained. "You know, like why stage magicians have sexy apprentices. He gets you watchin' her while he's stacking the deck for you to pick a card. There was this one time I was hustlin' a-" his sentence was interrupted by a warning beep from his equipment. "Whoa. Are you picking what I am?"
Already checking his screen, Ian noticed the vessels near the fourth planet now entering sensor range.
"Roger that. I'm reading three, no, four Hateeg ships in low orbit. They're big too. Look like capital class to me."
Dakota reviewed the data about the alien ship's power output and size.
"I agree. What are they doing just sittin' way out there?" he wondered.
"I'd say they're doing the same thing the Indomitable is, using the planet as cover. Question is why?"
"Beats me. Let the big wigs figure it out," Dakota said as he tapped his radio controls.
On the bridge of the Indomitable, the communications officer relayed the information he received from the pilots.