The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series)

by Mark Whiteway

  “Stand back while I destroy it.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  Shann assumed an attack posture and scanned for lodestone deposits but made no move on the eye. “What are you talking about?”

  Rael pressed his eyes shut and opened them again. “We don’t know who is watching us. Or why. Or even if there is a person behind it—it could be some form of remote device.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she countered.

  “Not at all,” he said. “It could be just trying to communicate. If we attack it, then it might interpret us as hostile. It’s very advanced— maybe a form of artificial intelligence. It could even be fitted with weapons of its own.”

  The eye continued to hover before them, humming quietly to itself, as if it were waiting patiently for them to finish their argument.

  Shann stood with her staff at the ready, paralysed by uncertainty. She did not like the thought of someone spying on them—watching their every move. Her instinct was to destroy the device, thereby removing the other person’s advantage. Nevertheless, she was forced to admit that Rael knew far more about machines than she did. “All right. Fight or flight—it’s your call.”

  The tall boy did not answer. Instead he walked in front of her and approached the eye slowly, arms outstretched. What’s he doing? “Can... you... hear... me?” he intoned.

  The eye dipped slightly as if to keep him in view, but made no other response. Shann’s heart beat faster. “Don’t get any closer.”

  Rael ignored her and took another step forward. Suddenly, a voice crackled into life. “You... are Kelanni.” It was coming from the mechanical eye.

  “Yes,” Rael responded. “To whom am I speaking?”

  “You are the ones who crossed the Great Barrier of Storms by ship. Is that correct?”

  The voice had an odd accent over and above the distortion that she couldn’t place. Shann’s feeling of unease was growing by the second. She stepped up to Rael’s shoulder and hissed in his ear. “These are humans. Don’t tell them anything.”

  “Yes, that’s correct... ” Rael addressed the eye and then turned his head towards her. “... At least, some of us did.”

  “Excellent,” the strange voice replied. “Would you be so good as to follow the watcher?”

  “Follow it where?” Rael asked.

  “You will see.”

  Alarm bells jangled at the back of Shann’s mind. The whole thing reeked of a trap. She stepped protectively between Rael and the floating metal eye. “He’s not going anywhere with that thing and neither am I.”

  “Quiet, Shann.” The girl’s jaw dropped open and she whirled around. He had only spoken to her once like that before, at the observatory in Kieroth, on the day they met for the first time. She felt both annoyed and pleased in a way that was strangely disturbing. His gaze remained firmly fixed on the aerial contraption. “Lead on.”

  The eye began to drift off at a leisurely pace. Rael followed unhesitatingly. Shann realised she was still standing slack-jawed on the rock platform. She shut her mouth and hurried after him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Following this thing to see where it leads,” he replied, matter-offactly.

  “Are you crazy? It’s controlled by hu-mans. You’re walking right into their hands.”

  “Possibly.” The mesa gave way to a narrow, rock-strewn path that wound through the bare grey hills. Ahead of them, the eye bobbed slightly, its glass iris turned back towards them, observing their progress. Making sure we’re following obediently.

  Shann felt like boxing the tousle-haired boy on the arm to try and knock some sense into him. “This is a mistake.”

  Rael pressed his lips together. “Look, they found us, all right? So we can either run away and be chased all over the countryside by this surveillance device—whatever it is. Or we can follow it back and talk to the person who’s operating it.”

  The path suddenly terminated in a low rock wall about eight feet high. The metallic eye drifted up and over the edge. Rael flexed his long legs and jumped. His fingers gained purchase on the lip of the wall, and he gritted his teeth as he hauled himself up before turning and reaching down towards Shann. She disdained the proffered hand, blipped her neck control of her red cloak, and pushed off the nearest lodestone deposit, sailing up the rock face and landing lightly beside him. They were on another small plateau—slate-grey rock interspersed with patches of pure white snow. The hum from the eye rose in pitch, and it started off again, framed by a sky of mounting cumulous cloud. The lanky boy and the slight girl trailed after it.

  “I don’t know why you didn’t just let me smash the thing,” she grumbled.

  “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Knock it down, or smash it to pieces.”

  “And you think you can just talk everyone into submission. What are you going to do? Ask this hu-man politely if they would mind not blowing the world to bits and us along with it?”

  “Something like that... maybe.”

  Shann threw her hands up in the air. “You are crazy. I’ve met their people—fought them. I tell you, they’re not to be trusted.”

  “They probably think the same thing about us,” he said. “Have you thought about that?”

  “They’re the ones building the weapon,” she pointed out.

  “Maybe they feel threatened.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, if I was part of a tiny community of creatures, stranded in a world full of strange and hostile people, I might feel threatened.”

  Shann had to admit she had not considered that. The hu-mans had lost the war with the Kelanni some thirty-six turns ago. Maybe they were afraid that if there was another war, then they would be wiped out.

  Her mind went back to that first night in the observatory at Kieroth, when she had gazed through the massive bronze tube at fuzzy patches of light set in a velvety void. According to Rael, the hu-mans had come from one of those. “Worlds like ours... or unlike ours.” That was how Boxx described them. What might the world of the hu-mans be like? Shann could not even imagine.

  Still, it was hard to feel sympathy for a people when the only one you ever met had held a weapon to your throat.

  “There.” Rael’s voice jolted her out of her reverie. She looked where he was pointing and saw something a way off across the plateau. A silver sliver, resting on the flat surface. Avionic. Shann felt her heart quicken. Only yesterday she had downed two of the hu-man machines. There was no reason to think that the pilot, whoever he was, would be aware of that; still less that she was responsible. And yet...

  The unblinking, copper-coloured eye hummed contentedly to itself as it led them unerringly in the direction of the waiting aircraft.

  As she got closer, Shann discerned a figure standing beside the machine. The creature had no tail and was dressed in impossibly clean white overalls. He was short—nearly as short as Shann—with sloping shoulders, a pinched nose, and the pale skin that seemed to characterise all hu-mans. However, he lacked McCann’s frightening profusion of facial hair; in fact, he was bald, save for a few wisps of hair that sprouted from the crown of his shiny head.

  They were only a few feet away when the face cracked into a smile, deepening the creases that marked the wide forehead.

  “Bravo, et bienvenue. Welcome to the island. My name is Emile Lafontaine. And we have a great deal to discuss.”

  <><><><><>

  Chapter 8

  The huge grey construction stood in the centre of a hollowed-out gorge, deep in the foothills of the range that dominated the island’s interior. A side door opened, and soft yellow illumination spilled out, clashing with the hard bluish glare of the arc lights. Two figures emerged, conversing in low tones, and disappeared around the side of the building.

  A moment later, two shadows arose from the perimeter and swept across the lighted area. The door opened a crack once more and the shadows slipped inside.

  Keris s
uppressed a gasp. Boxx stood next to her on its hind limbs, its round face gazing upward. The building was one vast chamber, lit from high above by row upon row of shining tubes, suspended by a complex array of girders. Metal stairs leading from the floor gave access to a network of upper walkways. The centrepiece was not one, but three bronze-coloured globes, each perhaps twenty feet in height. A few tiny figures were visible on the upper gantry.

  The Chandara’s presence had not been her idea. She ordered it to stay behind and wait for her at the overhang; it followed her nonetheless. She repeated the order several times, but it made no difference. Boxx seemed determined to trail after her like a faithful gundir pup. Finally, she was forced to give up and allow it to follow.

  She grabbed hold of the little creature and dragged it behind a metal crate, hunkering over it protectively. She fought to still the pounding of her heart and collect her thoughts.

  Long ago, she had stood with a group of other initiates in the Great Cathedral at Chalimar and pledged allegiance to the Three and the One. The place of the ceremony was well chosen; the vast atrium of the Cathedral was calculated to impress upon the young people their smallness—their insignificance. To ensure their unwavering submission to the authority of the keep.

  Keris pulled herself back to reality. Her days as an initiate were long gone. Her life had taken a different path now. And she had a job to do.

  She began a tactical assessment. The intense lighting would make it difficult for her to move around unobserved. She recalled the lighted panels on the ground floor of the tower on the Eastern Plains. As Shann had accidentally discovered, they were controlled by a single switch. However, even if these lights worked in the same way, and even if she could determine where that switch was, plunging the entire place into darkness could be tantamount to raising the alarm, not to mention the fact that it would be difficult to gather any useful intelligence in the dark. At Gort she used lodestone grenades to set a fire at the barracks and draw the guards away from the armoury. However, she had no lodestone grenades left and nothing but a tinderbox with which to start a conflagration. Also, at Gort, she was able to travel around openly in Keltar garb and not be challenged; here, every step she took added to the chance of her being discovered, at which point it would all be over.

  Unfortunately, every plan she was able to come up with carried with it an unacceptable level of risk. Every plan except one. Retreat. But in this case, retreat was not an option. With good information about the hu-man facility here on the island, there was at least a chance that their plan to disable the weapon would meet with success. Without it, there was next to none.

  “What We Do?” Boxx piped in its shrill voice.

  “Shhhh,” she commanded.

  “What We Do?” it repeated.

  Keris sighed. “I need to get access to those globes over there.”

  “They Will See You.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you.”

  “Let Me Go.” The Chandara began to squirm in her grasp.

  Keris held on tighter. “Stop that.”

  “Let... Me... Go.” Boxx suddenly slipped free and skittered out from behind the crate. Keris cursed under her breath and lunged after it before pulling back to avoid breaking cover. Her heart sank as the little creature waddled across the smooth floor towards the central area, raised itself up on its hind limbs, and began to make loud chirruping noises.

  Figures stopped in mid-stride, and faces looked down from walkways. Shouts of alarm rang across the vast chamber and were answered by more shouts. Boots rang on metal and slapped on stone. Boxx’s head moved back and forth as if it were amused by the various goings on. Then, without warning, it turned and sped off, away from Keris’s position, towards the far side of the building.

  Diversion. Boxx was deliberately creating a diversion to distract the hu-mans. She was not sure how she was going to rescue it—she would have to worry about that later. Now, the priority was to make use of the opportunity that the Chandara had created for her. There was not much time.

  Keris checked carefully, but she could see no further sign of movement on the upper levels. She set out on a low run towards the nearest set of stairs. There were sounds of commotion coming from the floor on the other side of the facility—reassuringly distant.

  With such a strong source of refined lodestone above her, the flying cloak was not an option, so she started up the stairs, wincing at the metallic clang of her light footfall. She reached the top and scanned about her, but no one was in sight. Ahead of her, the three bronze-coloured globes lay in a nest of gridwork, like the abandoned eggs of some monstrous bird. Three of them. Did that mean that there were in fact three weapons and not just one?

  Keris moved along the walkway to an intersection and then angled towards the centre. She was only a few yards away from the globes now. Another walkway crossed her path, and there was a large sign before it, written in red with letters she could not recognize. She ignored it and pressed on—and walked into an invisible wall.

  It was like having a thousand tiny needles pressed into your flesh at once. Keris recoiled instinctively, suppressing a cry of pain. She squinted at the empty space in front of her, convinced that a solid form must have materialised there, but there was nothing. Cautiously, she extended her arm and her hand came into contact with... something. Tiny forks of lightning appeared at her fingertips, along with the same stabbing pain. She snatched her hand away once more.

  She doubled back and chose a different route—a different walkway farther round, this time using her staff to probe the way ahead. Again she encountered the same invisible barrier. It appeared to stretch all of the way around the core of the construction where the huge globes were situated. As she debated her next move, she heard voices from below; people were returning to the central area. I have to find a place to hide.

  Keris’s eyes flicked back and forth. There was no cover—nothing except the network of iron-grey walkways. Then her eye was drawn upwards, to the tubular lighting and the intricate gantry that supported it. Her hand went to her neck control and she tweaked it ever so slightly, feeling the strong push of refined lodestone from the globes in front of her. She was sufficiently high up now that she should be able to angle her line of flight to reach the array of girders suspended from the ceiling. It was pretty high up, though, and if she misjudged it... Still, there did not seem to be any other viable option.

  Keris banished her self-doubt, took sight on what appeared to be one of the main supports, crouched as low as she could and leapt. Her fingers adjusted the cloak’s lodestone layer and she angled her upward line of flight towards her chosen objective. She was better than halfway up before she realised she was not going to make it.

  As the copper-coloured globes shrank beneath her and her distance from the lodestone source increased, she could feel the upward push weakening and gravity taking over. She was decelerating too quickly. She felt a flash of panic. Then she remembered something—something that the boy Rael had mentioned. Electro... something. A way to fly higher and farther.

  Keris fumbled for the new switch in the red cloak’s control mechanism and pressed it. Instantly she felt a kick in her shoulders, and the complex of girders suddenly filled her vision. She reached for the nearest one and felt her fingers close around the smooth metal. Suddenly she was swinging by one hand, the catwalk and the bronzecoloured spheres cavorting crazily beneath her. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the beam with her other hand and began pulling herself up. The girder creaked ominously but held firm, its protesting sound mercifully lost amid the growing echo of voices and the reverberation of boots on metal stairs.

  Keris laid herself flat against the beam and waited for her heartbeat to settle down and her breathing to slow once more. Then she inched towards the end of the beam and crawled across the nest of metalwork towards the nearest of the glowing tubes. She located a perch nearby, where four of the metal beams came together, and concealed herself behind it as fully as possible.
If anyone should choose to look up, her presence should be washed out by the tube’s illumination.

  She had attributed the lack of guards to overconfidence on the part of the hu-mans and to their underestimation of Kelanni resourcefulness. Now she knew that there was a deeper reason. It was she who had underestimated them.

  However, the existence of the barrier, whilst answering one question, raised another. In order to build and service the weapon, the hu-mans would have to have access to it. That meant that there must be some way through the seemingly impenetrable barrier that surrounded it. Keris settled into her chosen eyrie to watch and wait.

  Soon she spied one of the creatures—with a mass of thick, dark curly hair topping off all-white overalls—approaching the point on the catwalk where she had been driven back. She watched in wide-eyed astonishment as the barrier parted around his outline, fizzing and sputtering, before closing again after him. He had passed through without breaking stride. The hu-man continued towards the globes at the centre of the structure.

  A short while later she observed the process again. This time, a female in a dark blue suit and strange peaked cap approached from a different direction. Once more, the barrier parted obediently, producing the same pyrotechnic display before closing behind her. The barrier clearly repelled Kelanni as well as other objects such as her staff, but somehow it recognised and admitted hu-mans.

  The conclusion was devastating. If there was no way that she and the other component carriers could get to the weapon, then there was no way they could disable or destroy it. Annata had said nothing about a barrier, but as Keris discovered, her people, for all their tremendous achievements, were not infallible. They had been wrong about the Chandara; their attempt to preserve Boxx’s people in this world had only ended up threatening the creatures with extinction.

  Annata was gone—dead for three thousand turns and more. Her people were all dead, their great cities turned to rubble. Any further communication from the woman from the past was unlikely. This was Keris’s world. If it was going to be saved, it would be by her hand. As she considered the problem, an amended plan began to form in her mind. But she could not put it into effect here and now. She was sure that Lyall was not going to like it, but she would deal with that when the time came.