Nate Armstrong and the Death Ray of Sultron
Page 11
To the right of Dargon’s ship was a monstrous metallic structure. It too was coated in an oily, black residue. The many levels and exposed walkways suggested to Nate that this was where the mining operation was focused. As Nate squinted to get a better look at the structure he could see dozens of guards patrolling along its many walkways. “Judging by the number of guards, that is an enclosure that Dargon is intent upon protecting,” thought Nate, as he began to think that what he was seeking might lie within that particular building, rather than onboard Dargon’s ship. Nate began to scan the building, paying particular attention to the guards on the walkway on the fifth floor of the structure. The number of guards at that point seemed to outnumber the guards that he had seen in all other locations within the compound. Obviously the fifth floor housed something of great importance.
“The Ionium must be stored in there, just above the mine,” thought Nate. “Maybe that weapon will be in there too. That is where I need to set the explosive.” Nate began to wonder how he would be able to make it past the guards. He needed a distraction, something that would create a diversion at the opposite side of the compound without alerting the Lisaurians to his presence.
Nate thought and thought. What could possibly cause all of the guards to gather at the far side of the compound and leave the building unattended?
The solution came to Nate in a flash. He would cut a hole in the black sheets covering the surface of Sultron, there were bound to be pockets of acidic gasses below the surface of the dome that had built up when the compound was in relative darkness. “Because the suns had not been able reach the surface of Sultron in its full fury immediately below the dome and the blackened sheets upon which it was erected,” reasoned Nate, “the gases would not have had the opportunity to expand and vent into the atmosphere on the other side of the planet. I’ll cut a hole in floor and wait for a geyser to erupt inside the compound.” Nate smiled to himself, evidently very pleased with his own ingenuity.
Nate crept along the edge of the caterpillar track behind which he had been hiding.
After waiting for the guards to again pass him by he raced to the edge of the dome. Nate had no trouble finding another place to hide, the untidy habits of the Lisaurians ensured that there were plenty of things behind which he could conceal himself. He quickly found cover behind a particularly pungent pile of refuse. Nate was still wearing his helmet, but sounds and smells were nevertheless able to reach his senses. Screwing up his nose, Nate wished that he had a suit that could block out the foul odour that was now assaulting his nostrils. Food scraps, and even shed lizard skins, piled up at least a metre high provided Nate with excellent cover, but the stench was overwhelming.
“Timing will be everything,” Nate muttered to himself as he looked around for a good place to cut into the floor. He had to ensure that he was nowhere near the geyser when it erupted and that the guards were as far away from him as possible while he was making good his escape. He looked over the mound of rubbish and saw the two guards that patrolled the perimeter of the dome disappear from sight behind a collection of old machine parts.
Nate slipped his laser knife out of his pocket and plunged it into the metallic sheeting between his feet. Nate felt the floor begin to vibrate. He extracted the knife and thrust his holograph compass into the hole that he had created. As the plates beneath his feet began to heave and groan, Nate turned and ran for all that he was worth.
Keeping to the shadows as much as possible Nate ran between the piles of disused machinery and the mounds of putrid waste until he scurried into a discarded section of pipe. He turned around inside the pipe just in time to see a great geyser erupt inside the compound. The pandemonium that it created was beyond all that Nate could have hoped for. Alarms began to ring, lights flashed and a procession of footsteps ran towards the geyser as almost every Lisaurian in the complex began to thunder past his hiding place on their way to diagnose, and hopefully, remedy the emergency. A great, green leg flashed past the end of the pipe. It was as thick as Nate’s body and ended in a great, clawed foot. He recoiled in horror at the size and build of the creatures.
Nate peered out of the edge of the pipe and saw that almost every guard within the compound had gathered in the area where the acidic gasses were still venting into the air. Several of the lizard-like creatures were approaching the site of the breach in vehicles that looked like armoured forklifts. Nate formed the impression that the creatures were well prepared for just such an emergency.
As all of the creatures focused upon repairing the hole in the dome, Nate ran towards the tower at the far end of the compound. As he raced towards the building, he scanned the fifth floor for guards. There were none.
Nate reached the building in a matter of moments and began scaling its exterior, leaping from floor to floor. The walkways and handrails that surrounded the central structure provided excellent foot and hand holds as Nate climbed.
Nate stole a look over his right shoulder and noticed that the hole in the flooring had now all but been repaired. He had little time to lose.
Nate was about to swing himself over the balustrade and onto the walkway surrounding the fifth floor when he sensed that something was wrong. He stopped, hanging from the bottom of the walkway while a guard passed overhead. When he sensed that it was safe to proceed, Nate swung his body athletically onto the platform and began to run counterclockwise around the walkway, away from the guard.
Suddenly, Nate had an overwhelming sense of peril. He had not yet rounded the corner of the building, but he was aware that there were at least two guards approaching him. He turned to run back along the walkway in the opposite direction. Two or three other guards were making their way towards him along the platform from that direction too.
Glancing over the edge of the handrail Nate noted that the Lisaurians had begun to make their way back to their posts. Jumping to the ground and into their midst was not an option for escape. Many more guards had now returned to the structure and had taken up their positions on the floor above and the floor below the one where Nate was now trapped.
Panicked, Nate spotted a door leading into the central building only a few paces ahead of him. He darted for the door, flung it open and threw himself inside – strait into the barrel of a weapon held by a rather surprised Lisaurian guard.
Chapter 15: Captured
Five Lisaurian guards marched Nate onto the bridge of Dargon’s ship.
On hearing them approach Dargon turned from his position near the main instrument panel and stared at Nate. He maintained a long silence and he leaned forward and surveyed him from head to foot.
“You wear the insignia of a Confederation Officer,” hissed Dargon accusingly, “but I do not recognise you. I do not even recognise your species. Tell me, what and who are you?”
For the first time since breaking into Dargon’s facility Nate had an opportunity to observe the Lisaurians in full light.
The monsters stood between two and two and a half metres tall. Their faces were hideous, even more grotesque than the giant bats that had attacked him in the cave. They looked like large water dragons with perpetual snarls on their faces.
Each of the hoards wore a thick, leathery belt and a leather strap over their shoulder that held the belt in place around their thick torsos. The only thing that distinguished Dargon from his inferiors was the thick, scarlet robe that hung from gold chains around his neck, falling to the floor below. An orange crystal hung from his wide belt.
“Will you not answer me Confederation Officer? Who are you?” hissed Dargon as he shot his large, red, forked tongue into the air in an effort to taste Nate’s scent. As he spoke, a milky, thick mucous dripped down over his row of sharp teeth and out of the corners of his thick, black lips.
Nate retracted his helmet. There was no sense hiding behind it when he could both be seen and heard by his captors. As the helmet retracted, Dargon’s tongue again flicked at the air towards Nate. “I don’t recognise your scent. And I haven’t seen
the likes of you before. What planet are you from?”
Nate struck his most defiant pose, refusing to answer any of the questions that were addressed to him.
Dargon approached Nate and lowered his head until it was level with his, “You won’t tell me? Then I will make my first target the home planet of your beloved leader, General Farden. Make no mistake, I will find out who you are and I will find out where you come from. When I do, your planet will be the second one that I destroy.”
Nate could barely look at Dargon as he spoke. His appearance was so hideous that he felt compelled to look away. He suddenly felt like a frightened, little boy, rather than a brave Confederation Officer. The courage that had carried him on his mission to this point had seemingly deserted him.
“I knew that one of you would show up at some time. I have almost completed the weapon. We have already found a rich vein of Ionium, the crystals are being prepared as we speak. I expect to have the ray operational before the suns rise again on this miserable planet. Do you want to see the instrument with which I will triumph over the galaxies?” Dargon grabbed Nate behind the head with a clawed hand and dragged him towards the corner of the bridge.
“Look out there,” he hissed.
Nate peered through the grease-stained window and saw a most fearsome looking weapon standing alongside Dargon’s ship. The weapon looked like a great, futuristic cannon, its barrel pulsing with orange light as it sat, waiting, for the final component to take its place and transform it into the most effective killing machine that the Universe had ever seen.
“That weapon has the power to annihilate a planet in seconds. It can shoot a beam of pure energy straight into a planet’s core. The energy is so intense that the inhabitants of the planets that I mark for destruction will barely have time to beg for mercy.” Dargon gurgled a kind of muted laugh. “Not that begging would do them any good.”
Dargon’s last remark drew hisses of approval from the guards and other crew that stood on the bridge.
The giant lizard turned to the guards that had marched Nate onto the bridge.
“Search him for weapons and remove his Confederation suit. We don’t want it helping him to escape.”
Two guards stepped from behind Nate’s line of vision and dragged him away from the window. They drew a small device from their belts and waved it over Nate’s body. The device emitted a deep hum as Nate felt his suit’s grip upon his body weaken. The suit shook loose and fell to the floor in a molten, silver pool. Another guard quickly scooped the silver blob up in an opaque container and set it down beside Dargon. The silver liquid that had previously been Nate’s suit, squirmed around inside the container, struggling to escape.
Nate now stood in his school uniform, his tie somewhat askew, looking rather out of place on the bridge of a hostile, alien space craft.
The two guards with the electronic devices moved them over the whole length of Nate’s body.
“Explosive device,” hissed one of the guards as he ripped the watch from Nate’s wrist and threw it beside the container in which Nate’s suit was now imprisoned, “and laser knife.” The knife now lay beside Nate’s watch on the instrument panel.
“No other weapons,” declared the guard.
“Take him to the cells beside the furnace,” commanded Dargon, “then search the ship and the compound to make sure that there are not any others. He may not have been alone.”
The guards half marched and half dragged Nate towards the back of the bridge. They shoved him into an elevator and pushed a greasy, large triangular button. Nate glanced to the side of the elevator doors and noticed a large, circular symbol. Once inside the elevator Nate saw a series of buttons, each displaying different symbols. Nate saw the same circular symbol that he had noticed on the wall outside. He memorised the pattern, just in case he was able to escape the cell to which he was now being escorted.
The elevator descended sharply. The doors slid open and a blast of putrid, hot air hit Nate in the face. Although Nate had thought it impossible, the smell that now filled his nostrils was even more repulsive than the one that he had experienced when he had hidden behind the refuse heap in the grounds outside. Nate was barely able to stand in the acrid heat as the guards dragged him out of the elevator.
The guards marched Nate along a narrow, dank corridor that dripped with yellow grime. Then they led him into a large room. The room was square, the far wall consisting entirely of a row of cells. Each cell was separated from the room by a heavy, barred door. The bars were at least an inch thick and spaced only centimeters apart. The room, from wall to wall, was about 6 metres long.
One of the guards hit a panel on the wall as Nate entered. The door to one of the centre cells slid up into the ceiling. The guards walked Nate over to the cell and pushed him inside as the other guard stood at the entrance to the room holding his weapon on the prisoner.
“Lord Dargon wants you alive so that he can find out more about you, but just give me an excuse to kill you and I will,” hissed the guard nearest the door.
Nate stood in his cell as the other guard walked back to the entrance to join his companion. He reached out his hand and slammed the panel. The door came crashing down. Nate heard the sound of heavy metal bars locking into place.
For almost half an hour Nate paced the floor inside his cell. His imprisonment was made all the more unbearable by the humidity that was causing great drops of sweat to run down his face and neck.
Nate tried to lift the steel door. He struggled against its weight, trying a number of different holds and positions in an effort to move it even a little. The exercise was pointless, the door refused to move. He turned his attention to the walls of the cell in an effort to find a means of escape. The walls were warm to touch and, like most other things in the ship, covered in a putrid, greasy film. Nate lifted his hands to his nose. They barely made it to within 30 centremetres of his face before he screwed up his nose and and pushed them back against the wall. “I’ve never smelt anything like that before,” thought Nate, as he resumed his futile search around the walls.
The situation seemed hopeless. There was no way out of his small, putrid cell. The weapon was all but finished and soon Dargon would become the most powerful creature in the Universe. Not even Earth, tucked away in the corner of a far flung galaxy, was safe from his destructive rage.
Nate again paced up and down his cell. Escape was impossible. What would become of the many alien races that he had so far encountered in his adventure across the Universe? What would become of his new friends and his family? Nate sank down onto the floor of his cell and plunged his hands into his pockets as he gave up in despair. It was absolutely hopeless.
Chapter 16: A Plan Hatches
Nate sat in the corner of his cell wallowing in his sorrow. He could almost see the sneer of satisfaction spreading across Dargon’s lips as he held defenseless civilisations to ransom. “At least I tried,” Nate thought to himself as he sank his hands deeper into his pockets.
Suddenly, Nate felt something cold in his trousers’ pocket. He rummaged deeper.
“What’s this?” he wondered as he leapt to his feet and turned out his pockets.
Three small, smooth stones fell into Nate’s hand, together with a wide, red elastic band and an assortment of paper clips and pen lids.
A plan hatched in Nate’s mind.
Nate approached the bars of his cell and slipped the rubber band over the thumb and the forefinger on his left hand. With his right hand he carefully placed one of the stones in the middle of the rubber band and drew it back as far as he could. He carefully took aim at the panel that the guard had pressed to raise and lower his cell door. Nate let go of the stone and it shot towards the opposite side of the room.
The stone bounced off the opposite wall a good two or three feet from the panel at which Nate was aiming.
“No need to panic, another two stones left,” muttered Nate, as he placed a second stone in the makeshift sling shot. He again drew the ru
bber band back and fired. Closer, but still the stone didn’t hit the target. The stone bounced off the wall and fell to the floor.
Nate looked carefully at the last of his stones. If this did not hit the target, then he was out of ideas, his mission would fail and his new friend’s planet would certainly be destroyed. Surely, too, it would only be a matter of time before he or someone else revealed Nate’s own home planet to Dargon, and then the Earth would be no more.
Somehow Nate felt very responsible for the Earth’s fate. If he hadn’t answered Farden’s call, then he wouldn’t be where he was. If he hadn’t set about his mission, then perhaps, Dargon might have bypassed Earth in his destructive rampage through the Universe. But he had come on this mission, and now his mother and father and all life on Earth was now doomed to destruction.
“At least it will be quick,” was the only thought that Nate could comfort himself with as he drew back the last of his stones in the thick, elastic band.
Nate took careful aim. He kept his hands as steady as he could and held his breath. As he let go he closed his eyes, not wanting to see where the stone landed for fear that he would miss again.
Nate squeezed his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t bear to see the stone slamming into the wall and falling to the floor below. But he had to look, he had to see whether his last attempt had been better than his previous ones. Nate opened his eyes just in time to see the stone slam against the panel on the far wall. Hope leapt into Nate’s chest as the heavy, metal door slid up into the roof cavity above his head. Nate looked at the far wall and saw his last stone lying directly underneath the panel at which he had taken aim.