“I have ears,” Olav remarked as he filtered through the various detection systems on his control screen. “We have a few ships tailing us.”
“A few?” I asked as I stared at the monitor. At least thirty Ecomese skiffs were moving toward our ship like red fireflies.
“I figure Sir Uram is controlling them remotely,” Olav said. “Must have a good range on those things.”
“Anyway we can scramble the comms so he loses control?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” the berserker mocked. “No, we don’t have anything like that on this ship. And we’re out of firepower. This thing is built for speed, not holding off an assault or scrambling comms. So we’ll have to outrun them.” He increased the thruster velocity while I turned to face the front view screen, and I gasped at what I saw.
Lightning streaked through thick clouds the color of emeralds while gases swirled with electrical potency. We were heading straight for a big storm.
“Yeah, I see it,” Olav said as he wrestled with the pilot’s yoke. “Easy does it. Come on now!”
The clouds moved around us until our ship was completely shrouded. The vessel hopped, and the impact made me thankful for the chair’s harnesses. I grabbed onto my arm handles while the lights flickered above me, and then the whole ship went dark. Even the lights on the control panel turned off for a few seconds, and I heard the thrusters sputter. We suddenly dropped in altitude, and I was thrown upward. White noise invaded my ears, and the muscles in my neck tensed while my eyeballs bulged.
Just when I thought the freefall would kill us, the lights turned on, and the thrusters roared to life again. The clouds smothering the view screens vanished, and I could see the storm in the distance, along with the Ecomese blood-ships. They were bordering the broiling gas storms, but none of them were pursuing us.
“I think we must have moved past their range for remote control,” I said. “Or maybe they can’t pass through the storm without the Den Ark losing control of them.”
“Either way, we just bought ourselves a second chance at life. I’ve evaded Lady Death’s grasp once again! I’m too slippery a man for her, eh, Squire?” Olav grinned, and I got the feeling he’d cheated death far too many times.
“Those skiffs are going to be a problem when we bring the crew back to the Ark,” I said as I stared at the red fireflies growing smaller by the second.
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it. For now, we gotta choose which Ark to go on. Both are about six hours away.”
“Why don’t we go on the Gor Ark, sir.” It sounded simple to me since the captain and the crew were in that behemoth, and I couldn’t understand why Olav thought there would be a choice involved.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Olav said with a sarcastic smile. He gestured at the view screen where two Arks appeared. “Which one is the Gor Ark?”
“This ship doesn’t tell you?” I asked.
“It would, but the storms messed with our navigation systems.”
They both looked like almost identical copies of the Den Ark: giant creatures with broad fins and a hundred glistening eyes.
“Tell me, Lyons, which one do you think the captain and the crew are in right now? Left or right? Take your pick.”
I sighed and examined the two behemoths more closely. There were small differences between the two. The one on the left had fewer lights shining from its exterior, and I guessed it was the one most likely to be dealing with an upgraded Grendel threat since their power might have been expended from the attack.
“The left,” I said before explaining to Olav my reasoning.
“Fine,” the berserker said. “Although if you’re wrong, you know I’m going to have to beat your ass, right?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Good!” Olav grinned as he moved the ship toward the Ark on the left.
I didn’t care whether he would beat me for getting the wrong Ark; I just hoped it was the Gor Ark because the Dax were coming to Ecoma now. The Stalwart and her crew needed to be ready when they arrived.
Chapter 17
“Don’t say anything about the Dax until we reach the captain and the others,” Olav ordered me as he maneuvered the stolen skiff around swirling gas clouds and toward the giant Ark creature. “We don’t want to cause hysteria on this next Ark.”
I could just imagine what might happen if the citizens inside learned of the coming Dax fleet. There would be pandemonium as the age-old memory of enslavement returned to their minds.
Hopefully, the captain and the crew had already cleared the portal, so we could return to the Den Ark and take it back from Sir Uram before the fleet arrived.
“It’s a pity you can’t teleport us in there,” Olav said to me for the hundredth time during our six hour flight. “It would be a helluva lot faster.”
“I think I’d be a little too dangerous if my abilities had no limitations, sir,” I said.
Anyone who discovered my abilities would probably deem me too dangerous even with their shortcomings. Unless, of course, I could be used for their own gain. After learning of my skills, Silvester Polgar wanted to experiment on me, and I guessed the scientists inside the Facility would do the same if they ever uncovered my secret. I didn’t think the ability to teleport instantaneously from one place to another was considerably different from a jump mage’s powers, but somehow it was linked to the Grendel portals. Elle had explained as much to me, and it made sense considering my ability could also upgrade a portal’s level.
“Can’t say I’m too disappointed,” Olav replied. “I’ve experienced those limitations firsthand. Teleporting doesn’t make for the smoothest ride.”
My powers had become wildly unreliable since killing the Bloodrat, not stronger like Elle’s abilities.
My stomach dropped as I realized what this might mean if I went aboard the Ark while the portal was still open.
“Olav, sir,” I said. “I don’t think I should get close to the portal.”
“You’re worried about upgrading it again?” Olav said, reading my thoughts. “The crew should have cleared it by now, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Even if they haven’t, it’ll just mean more enemies and more loot.”
“We don’t have a lot of time, sir. Even now, a Dax fleet could be approaching Ecoma.”
“You worry too much, Squire.”
I didn’t think I was worrying needlessly, and I considered Olav’s flippancy foolish. He seemed far too confident. As I watched the Ark grow larger on the view screen, more problems troubled me. We didn’t know for sure whether the behemoth we approached was the one the captain and the others had boarded, so entering the wrong one would waste even more precious time.
I might also trigger the portal, and then Olav and I would be the only two crew members around who could close it.
“Any idea how we can make contact with the Ark?” I asked Olav. “It’d be much easier if we could simply ask them which one is the Gor Ark.”
“Good thinking.” Olav took a few minutes to stare in confusion at the control board. “It’s too bad this skiff’s communication controls aren’t as easy to use as its navigation or weapons systems. I don’t want to press the wrong thing and notify the Dax embassy of our location.”
“Sir Uram will have already informed the embassy of our escape from the Den Ark,” I said.
“I think we killed all the emissaries in the docks, so he won’t have anyone to contact,” the berserker replied. “And I doubt Uram will guess where we’re heading, Squire.”
“Of course he will, sir. He will know we intend to gather the Stalwart and her crew and return to the Den Ark in force.”
“Fair point,” Olav said as a bell chimed from the overhead.
“Dax?” the speaker blared an accented voice, and then they started speaking in a foreign language.
“Now I just need to figure out how to turn on the damned microphone,” the berseker said as he searched the control board in front of him.
I saw a green light flickering on the panel to the right of the pilot’s controls. “Maybe this will work?” I asked.
“Or maybe it will queue the self-destruct function?” Olav smirked. “I say we try it.” He flicked the switch. “Hello?” The cockpit’s speakers amplified the berserker’s voice, so we knew the microphone was active.
“We’re Caledonians,” Olav said as he leaned into the control board.
“Dax?” the voice replied.
“No! Not fucking Dax!”
The speaker broke into the unintelligible language again.
“Do you speak Caledonian? Cal-e-don-i-an!” The berserker broke down the syllables like he was explaining the word to a child, but I imagined any child would be completely terrified at the sheer volume of his voice.
“I don’t think they are understanding you, sir,” I offered. “Maybe I can try?”
“Shut up, Squire! I’m good at peopling. They respond better when you shout at them. Berserker screams break through language barriers like my axes break skulls. Pay attention and you might learn something. Hey! You idiots! We are here to help you! Open up the fucking hatches, or I’ll break them down!”
There was silence on the other end, and I could see Olav’s face reddening by the minute.
“Dax?” the voice said again, and the berserker slammed both fists onto the control board.
“Not Dax!”
“Dax?” the voice repeated.
“Listen here, you fuckers. We need the Stalwart. You’re all in danger. Let us inside, or I’m going to plow this skiff up your ass!”
I half-expected the person on the other end to repeat the only word we could understand, but then lights started flickering on an eye toward the top of the behemoth’s skull.
“Do you see that flashing?” I pointed a finger at the eye displayed on the view screen, and Olav nodded.
The berserker drained his beer mug before tossing it aside in frustration. Then he maneuvered the skiff into the behemoth’s flashing eye. Once we passed through the airlock tunnel, we docked beside a gangway where twenty armed men were waiting for us.
“Those fuckers still think we’re Dax,” Olav said as he unstrapped himself from the pilot’s seat. “Activate your prot-field.”
I unclipped my harness, triggered my forcefield, and then followed the berserker down the cargo ramp.
Olav swaggered to the enforcers. “So, where’s the rest of our crew? They finished killing all the Grendels without us?”
The soldiers parted as a tall man wearing a silver crown approached.
“Dax!” the man yelled in a hostile tone, and the enforcers encircled us. They were all carrying exotic-looking rifles, but their bullets would simply bounce off our forcefields. Still, we needed to explain to these people why we were here. If this wasn’t the Gor Ark, then we needed to leave right away.
“Not! Fucking! Dax!” Olav roared, and the Ecomese noble cowered. The soldiers raised their weapons warily, but they seemed equally terrified of the berserker. It would only take a slip of their fingers for them to shoot the vermillion-haired man, and then he might decide to let out his anger. There would be blood and guts, but most of all, we would lose time.
We needed some way of showing them that we weren’t Dax and that we intended no harm.
I reached to my prot-belt, and the enforcers suddenly pointed their weapons at me.
“I want to show you something,” I said as I raised both hands. “I mean no harm.”
Olav scowled at me, but he didn’t stop me from continuing. I slowly dropped my right hand to my prot-belt while staring into the Ecomese nobleman’s eyes. I activated the holo menu so a spinning trident appeared above my buckle.
“Caledonia,” I said as I pointed at the RTF’s emblem.
The crowned man frowned at me, and I could tell he didn’t know what I was referring to. They may have not seen the trident emblem before, let alone know what it represented.
But they should have recognized it if the Stalwart was on board this vessel.
There was a commotion behind the enforcers, and a man pushed through their ranks. His disheveled hair and crinkled robes made me think he’d been torn from his bed to meet with us. After he exchanged words with the nobleman, the enforcers lowered their weapons a little. They clearly still considered Olav and me a threat, but this new arrival had mollified them for a bit.
“Dax,” the man said before speaking a string of sentences in a foreign language.
I could see Olav was a second away from strangling the man, so I quickly responded. “We aren’t Dax,” I said. “We’re Caledonians.”
The man tilted his head and studied us before relaying the information to the noble.
“I speak little Caledonian. Senator Rovin,” the translator said as he gestured at the nobleman. “He wishes to know why you come.”
“We cleared a portal on the Den Ark,” I said before Olav could answer the query. “It was stronger than they expected, so they needed our help. Our starship, the RTF Stalwart, and her crew responded to a distress call from the Gor Ark. They traveled there to assist with clearing the portal. We have come here to find them. Is this the Gor Ark?”
The translator provided the senator with the information, and then he turned back to us with a smile but no answer.
“You’re doing it wrong Squire,” Olav muttered. “Is the Stalwart here! Is this the fucking Gor Ark?” the berserker screamed into the translator’s face.
“Yes,” the translator answered with a nod. “You come to guard post.”
Senator Rovin looked at Olav like he was insane, but the enforcers parted and the translator beckoned us to follow.
I turned to the berserker. “I don’t think I should get too close to the portal. I still can’t control my abilities, and--”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he interrupted. “A portal upgrade means more Grendels, and that means more chances for me to beat Leith.”
“Your kill tally doesn’t matter,” I protested. “These Ecomese are in grave danger. We need to find the Stalwart’s crew and prepare for the Dax fleet.”
“The Grendels are the more immediate threat. You upgraded this portal, so I figure it’s your responsibility to help clear it. Besides, you don’t have a choice. I’m ordering you to come with me.”
I stared at Olav for a second, and I knew he wouldn’t rescind the order.
The translator waved his hand at us, and we were escorted through the Ark with the enforcers on all sides. The behemoth was almost identical to the Den Ark with its organic bulkheads and giant robots. The only exception was the number of people filling the chambers and passageways, so I suspected this Ark hadn’t resorted to human sacrifice to power their defenses.
We entered an elevator to a higher level, and the doors opened to a giant power plant. This complex was even larger than the one on the Den Ark, and its runic batteries covered a three-hundred-meter-long chamber. We followed the translator down a narrow passageway to a giant armed door. After unlocking the door, we entered a room with rows of organic terminals like the ones inside the Den Ark’s Watchtower. There were no cyber alchemists logged into the computers through the VR helmets.
“The portal through there.” The translator indicated the far doorway. “Speak when ready.”
“I need beer,” Olav said to the man.
“Beer?”
“Yeah. It’s bitter, and fizzy, and tastes delicious.”
“Delicious?”
The berserker growled as he grabbed an empty beer drum from his belt and pretended to drink out of it. “Beer!” he screamed.
“Ah, beer.” The translator spoke with an enforcer who then sprinted away.
“I’m not sure we have time for alcohol, sir,” I said. “I’m not even sure the Stalwart’s crew are on this Ark.”
“They’re here, Squire,” Olav said. “And there’s always time for beer.”
When the enforcer returned a few minutes later, he came wheeling a giant
keg. I guessed he had taken it straight from the mess on this guard post.
Olav filled a drum with the ale, and then he drained the glass in one lung gulp before tossing it away. “We’re ready!” he said eagerly as he bounced on his toes in anticipation.
A sharp pain jabbed my stomach, and I arched over while grabbing my gut. White flecked my vision, and I fought to maintain confidence.
I gasped as the reservoir I used to teleport suddenly drained. I was angry at myself for not knowing how to control my ability, and I fought back the desire to scream aloud.
“I just upgraded the portal,” I said to Olav through gritted teeth.
The berserker burst into laughter and slapped my back. “Excellent! I was hoping this would happen.”
I stared at the man in shock, and I wondered how many brain cells he’d killed by perpetual intoxication.
There was nothing we could do now. The crew would be unprepared for the sudden upgrade, so all we could do is help them clear the portal.
“Open the door!” Olav roared, and the translator motioned at an enforcer.
The guard pressed on the buttons of the small pad, and the door’s organic top layer peeled away. Then the metal hinges swung open and exposed a long hallway.
“I’ll lead the way,” the berserker said to me. “You can clean up whatever gets through me. I promise it won’t be much.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I didn’t share the other man’s flippancy, and I didn’t think the rest of the crew would either.
“Get your ass moving!” he commanded me before rushing through the doorway.
The first corridor curved around, and I guessed rings were surrounding the portal zone like in the other Watchtower. Clicking sounds filtered from around the corner, and Olav beckoned to me with a nod of his head. But something was niggling at my mind, and I motioned for him to wait.
The berserker shook his head at me as I approached. “Got the jitters, Squire?
“We shouldn’t be encountering Grendels so early in the Watchtower,” I said. “The crew should have killed them all.”
“They were sloppy because they didn’t have me with them,” Olav tutted. “I would have made sure they were all dead before moving on.”
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