The clog of traffic began to thin, enough so that they could run easily between the lines of cars. Caleb’s feet throbbed as he pounded them on the hard roadway, occasionally leaping or stumbling over fallen cables or litter. At one point, Caleb’s foot rolled over a soft, cylindrical object. He glanced down just long enough to see that it was an arm, sticking out from under one of the cars.
The bridge was rumbling loudly now, and Caleb thought he could hear huge chunks tumbling into the bay behind them as they ran. The road seemed to wobble and sway beneath their feet, and Caleb felt like he would vomit.
Another blast of red lightning flared behind them, more distant this time, and Caleb realized that the ship must be attacking the other half of the bridge. He tried to imagine if Carol could have gotten far enough away, weighted down with Aunt Nina, but he wasn’t sure.
A final boom of rending steel and crackling pavement exploded behind them, and the bridge gave a violent heave, then grew quiet. Bill and Caleb continued to run, but the noise seemed to only be coming from the other side now. As Bill began to slow to a fatigued jog, Caleb risked one more glance over his shoulder. He saw that about a quarter of the bridge was gone, blasted or collapsed into the bay. The remaining part seemed stable, at least for the moment. Further back, the far half of the bridge was enveloped in surging flames and flaring bolts of red electricity. Massive sections of roadway slid into the water as Caleb watched, dumping charred cars and bodies into the waves.
Bill was also glancing back with a wild-eyed, tear-soaked stare. Caleb still couldn’t be sure if Carol had had enough time to escape.
They continued to run, but much slower now. The ship was moving farther and farther away, and the bridge stood solidly beneath their feet. Caleb looked ahead at the fire dotted skyline of San Francisco. He could see flashes of red light reflecting on some of the buildings, and the sound of explosions still echoed through the night air. Soon, Bill and Caleb reached the end of the bridge. They left the main road and stood huddled on a shadowed street corner, glancing fearfully up and down the empty avenues. Explosions and rumbling booms echoed eerily in the distance. Now and then, a small group of people would dash down the street, crying and calling out for help.
Bill stood silently, watching the sky and trying to remain concealed. Caleb clung to his jacket and struggled to blot out the image of Aunt Carol, stranded on the far side of the bridge.
At one end of the street, Caleb heard a rush of wind and a familiar but sinister electric hum. Bill grabbed Caleb’s shoulders and pulled him back into a sheltered doorway just as a blood-red glow began shining around the corner. The two stood rigidly in silence, listening to the slow throb and crackle of the ship’s approach. The strange vessel was moving slowly down the street, flying low and scanning with blinding searchlights for any sign of movement. Caleb could now see that it was like the one that had killed the people on the docks, lacking the devastating lightning-spike of the ship that destroyed the bridge. Caleb gasped and twitched involuntarily as he saw a pair of people run out into the street, then stop dead in their tracks, staring up at the glowing craft.
They were college-aged, a man and woman. The young man stood stock-still and gaped at the shimmering red underbelly of the ship. The woman was tugging and pulling at the man’s arm, shaking terribly and screaming desperately for him to run.
The nose of the ship began sparking and glowing with energy, and the woman screamed once more before bolting for the far side of the street. She vanished from view as a blaze of red light engulfed the man, melting asphalt and filling Caleb’s eyes with green spots. Caleb heard half of a garbled shriek, then a sort of burning crackle. He blinked rapidly, trying to see where the woman had run.
Smoke and tar-stench filled the air, blocking Caleb’s view. He smelled something else, too—something that reminded him of the time Aunt Carol had overcooked the Thanksgiving turkey. The ship’s searchlights were scanning the far side of the street, passing over cars, mailboxes and street lamps. The beams settled on a small car that had driven off the road and landed in the sunken entranceway of a basement apartment.
The static crackle of the ship’s weapon surged again, and another bolt lashed out, engulfing the car in sparks and electrical arcs. The blast of this type of craft proved much weaker than the spike-nosed ship at the bridge. As the smoke cleared, Caleb could see that the car, although blackened and burning, was mostly intact.
The ship hovered in place for a moment, still scanning the car with its lights. Slowly, it began to move into the center of the street, its glowing belly dimming slightly. As the ship neared the pavement, small arcs of red leapt from the belly to the ground. The underside dimmed further, then went almost completely dark as the heavy craft settled with a smooth hiss.
Caleb stared with horrified fascination as the blunt tail of the ship began spreading open like a black blossom. Dim, multicolored light flickered from the interior, casting a strange rainbow of light on the street. Caleb’s heart jumped in his chest as he saw a large black shadow block the shifting light. The clicking thumps of slow, deliberate steps echoed from inside the ship.
Suddenly, a large, lanky black shape hopped out of the open hatch, landing lightly on the pavement. The creature was at least seven feet tall, and twice as long. It peered warily up and down the street, its long, lizard-like head swiveling on a sinuous neck. Caleb could see dark, pebbly skin and long arms and legs, tipped with wickedly curved claws. The creature wore no real clothing, but had a number of belts and shoulder straps covered in blinking electronics. Its sharp-toothed head bore a sort of headset, with a lens over one eye and a small earphone pressed against the side of its skull. It carried some sort of gun in its three-fingered hands—oddly proportioned but otherwise surprisingly similar to a normal machine gun.
The creature twitched its long, stiff tail, then walked cautiously toward the smoking car.
Caleb glanced up at his uncle, who was staring at the creature with a look of total confusion.
“It’s a dinosaur, isn’t it?” Caleb whispered.
Bill nodded distractedly, never taking his eyes off of the creature. “Some kind of giant Troodon...” Bill mumbled.
Caleb looked back at the creature, which now stood only a couple of feet away from the car. It sniffed and peered into the shadows, then brushed at a switch on its headset.
A small beam of light shone from the side of its headgear, piercing the smoke and darkness. The creature glanced into the space under the car, searching back and forth, then stopped.
Keeping its gaze tightly focused under the rear of the car, the creature raised its weapon. Caleb saw the thin red line of a laser sight glowing in the smoky air. The creature made some sort of sound, a grating crow-like croak that sounded suspiciously like language, then fired.
Caleb winced and squeezed his eyes shut as the burst of gunfire echoed from under the ruined car. The creature rose and looked casually up and down the street, then strutted lightly back to its ship.
Caleb opened his eyes in time to see Bill cocking his head and listening carefully to some soft noise. Caleb listened too, and was just able to make out a tinny voice, coming from the area of the creature.
The creature also had its head cocked to one side, apparently listening to something on its headset. When the muffled voice fell silent, the creature touched another switch on its headset and a small microphone flipped out beside its jaws.
“Ksiyr kugut-ruuth, Ytar rr-chumgu,” the creature croaked in its birdlike voice.
Bill and Caleb held their breath and stared with dropped jaws.
The creature suddenly broke into a very different-sounding language.
“Scout seventeen, unit twelve,” it growled. “Command, do you read? Twenty-fifth street is clear. Proceeding to Lincoln Park.”
“Son of a jumpin’...” Bill hissed. “That thing’s some kind of damn dino-soldier.”
Caleb looked up wonderingly at his uncle, but Bill just shook his head and stared, looking m
ore lost than ever.
THE RAPTOR-WOMAN WAS CURLED UP under a tattered blanket, only her face and the tip of her feathered tail exposed to the cool morning air. A small cooking fire flickered and snapped nearby. Caleb and Krezahu sat silently by the fire, Caleb holding a skewered piece of meat over the flames while the old Awaru gnawed on a succulent green stem. Chuck lay snoring on the grass next to the raptor-woman, her striped flank pressed lightly against the brown blanket.
Caleb inspected the skewered meat, then began nibbling on it thoughtfully. He looked at Krezahu, sucking the sap from the green plant stem and blinking sleepily.
“So...” Caleb began slowly, “the Lizards were the ones who destroyed the caravan?”
Krezahu chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then answered, staring meditatively into the fire.
“Yes. The ‘Lizards’, as they are known to humans, are the bringers of destruction.”
“You called them Ne Shaazi,” Caleb said. “That name sounds like something from the Hininze language. They look similar, too—are they the same species?”
“Different branches of the same tree,” Krezahu answered. “You can see that their shapes are identical, though the Hininze are feathered like me and do not use the death-tools of the Ne Shaazi. They are like brothers; they have the same blood and flesh, but one is whole and the other crippled.”
“So they’re kind of like different breeds of the same species,” Caleb mused. “Are the Hininze some sort of pacifistic offshoot of the Ne Shaazi?”
“Tii, no!” Krezahu clucked. “The Hininze are the elder brother. Older than my people.” Krezahu fell silent for a moment, squinting his eyes and seeming to consider some inner dilemma. Finally he spoke, and his voice had a new, more serious edge.
“Listen now, and cease your silly questions. I will tell you as much as is wise at this time.”
Caleb opened his mouth to ask about the Ne Shaazi ships, but closed it again when Krezahu glared at him impatiently.
“The Hininze, the flying Ewahi, and my people, the Awaru, all lived in an age long before this one. We were happy and wanted nothing that we did not already have.
“Our happiness was fleeting, though, for a struggle soon erupted. The Hininze became divided among themselves. A splinter group broke from the branch of the Hininze, a dangerous and violent people whom the Hininze branded as ‘unnatural’—the Ne Shaazi.
“The fear and madness of the Ne Shaazi brought about the end of our age and the death of many creatures. They even destroyed themselves; their rage was so great. After a long time of slumber, a new creature woke from wildness: your people. I will not speak now about what your kind did, but I will tell what end came of it.
“The great change of your world and the chaos that followed was a result of your people’s foolishness, twisted to evil use by the lingering energies of the Ne Shaazi. Your people were tricked into bringing about the rebirth of the Ne Shaazi, as well as many other creatures that lived in our ancient age.
“However, it was the flawed thinking of the Ne Shaazi, combined with the foolish ways of your kind, that left a light of hope for all our peoples. When the Ne Shaazi were reborn, they tried to bring with them all of the creatures of our age. Without knowing it, they awoke even their enemies, the Hininze. The Hininze in turn awoke the Ewahi and the Awaru. Their minds also touched the weak bodies of some of your people, giving them the claws, teeth, and armor they would need to survive and protect others in the changed world. Sadly, your race is filled with a fear and anger to rival that of the Ne Shaazi, and has treated these new people badly, shunning and hunting them.”
“So the Hininze did this?” the raptor-woman asked. Caleb and Krezahu turned to see her sitting up, huddled under her dusty blanket.
“Yes,” Krezahu answered simply.
“Lot of help that was,” she muttered. “Didn’t they know how the rest of the people would react to us?”
Krezahu shook his head sadly. “Even the wise Hininze underestimated your race’s potential for cruelty. Also, they acted in haste, fearing retaliation from the Ne Shaazi. If they had had more time to know your people, they would have foreseen the results of their actions. You must understand their motives.”
“I understand what it’s like for a ten-year-old to be tossed out into the jungle when her hair falls out and she starts growing feathers,” she hissed.
Caleb blinked and shook his head slightly, trying to imagine how she had kept her sanity. Krezahu sighed and clucked sadly.
“That is more than should ever be asked of a child. But think—didn’t your new body help you live through that trial, even as it caused it?”
The woman stared silently at the fire.
“And didn’t it help you survive countless other trials?” Krezahu continued. “It has been a challenge, I am certain. But it has also been your salvation. Do not reject your gift so quickly.”
The woman flicked a small pebble with a clawed finger.
“Your people have been persecuted, too,” she said more softly. “You must know what it’s like to carry that around on your shoulders.”
“I carry only what I need,” Krezahu answered. The raptor-woman looked at him with a strange expression on her face.
“So,” she said, her voice lightening. “What’re we eating for breakfast?”
Caleb took another piece of meat from a stick he had propped over the fire and handed it to the woman.
“It’s Orodromeus-thigh,” he said.
“What?” she asked, looking at the meat skeptically.
“Springheel leg,” Caleb corrected himself.
“Oh.” She nodded, chewing the meat hungrily.
“I’m Caleb. This is Krezahu, and you already met Chuck.” The woman nodded to Krezahu.
“I remember Chuck,” she said, glancing back at Caleb. “You, too.”
“I don’t remember hearing your name,” Caleb prompted.
The woman licked her lips and squinted at Caleb in the growing morning light.
“I’m Tess,” she said. “How the hell did you guys find me anyway?”
Caleb started to answer, then smiled mischievously. “Why don’t you explain it, Krezahu?”
Caleb grinned as Krezahu began describing the intricacies of the World Tree and sleep-journeys, while Tess blinked and nodded confusedly.
After a small breakfast and a short inspection of Caleb’s faded map, the group began a slow march through the rocky slopes and sparse woods that filled the mountain pass. They headed north, passing scattered herds of pachycephalosaurs and iguanodons as they descended the rocky slopes into the broad valley below.
Tess spoke little about the ruined caravan, and even less about what had happened to the other old-bloods. Caleb and Krezahu were able to learn only that the majority of the dino-people had been captured, and those few killed had been burned or buried by Tess.
Caleb couldn’t imagine any way to tell where the Ne Shaazi had taken the old-bloods, much less free them. Krezahu seemed reluctant to discuss any plans of pursuit or rescue. Instead, he insisted cryptically that they must continue on the path of the caravan, heading north out of the mountains and into the Snake River valley. The old Awaru claimed that they had friends there, though he made it clear that the old-bloods would not be found in the valley.
By early afternoon, the group had left the rough terrain of the mountains behind them, and were traveling swiftly through lush, open forest and softly rolling hills. The sky was filled with a scattering of small, puffy clouds, and the dappled sunlight was warm and golden as it filtered through the whispering canopy of leaves. Caleb rode on Chuck’s saddle, while Krezahu and Tess strode easily on their long toes. Caleb had offered repeatedly for either of them to ride, but they refused, and Caleb was soon winded when he tried to keep up on foot.
As the sun sank closer to the western hills, the four travelers could hear the distant rush of a fair-sized river. They had forded a couple of smaller streams in the mountains earlier that day, but the thought
of the cool, fresh water lured them closer.
The river was soon in view, sparkling with a golden, sunlit glow through the trees. The travelers quickened their pace, bounding down the gently sloping bank and wading into the swift, cool waters. Caleb splashed Chuck’s dust-coated flanks, and she slapped her tail on the water, spraying everyone. Tess began swimming out into the deeper waters, while Krezahu refilled the waterskins. They stayed at the river for some time, cooling off and washing away their coatings of dust and soot. After an hour, Krezahu wandered into the forest to forage for berries and leaves, while Chuck wandered further downstream, following the scent of some prey animal. Caleb was left floating lazily in the rippling waters, while Tess reclined on a flat boulder, drying her feathers in the fading sun.
Caleb floated on his back, staring at the swaying branches overhead and listening to the strange sound of the water rushing over his ears. He felt as if the river were washing his mind, whispering in his ears and carrying away much of the fear and anger of the past few days. He found himself hoping that it had done the same for Tess.
Caleb almost didn’t notice the muffled sound of a voice over the murmuring of the waters. He raised his head, expecting to see Krezahu or Chuck returning. Instead, as the water drained from his ears, he heard Tess screaming wildly and saw her leaping and pointing on top of the boulder. She was gesturing frantically to the far bank.
“CALEB!” She shrieked, “Get out! Get out of there!”
Caleb tried to spin around to see what she was pointing at, but caught a mouthful of water in the process. He blinked his eyes and coughed violently, trying to see where Tess was pointing.
“Fisher-dragon!” she screamed. Caleb blinked again, noticing for the first time that he was actually closer to the far bank than to Tess. Fisher-dragon... His startled mind fumbled with the slang name.
Carnival of Time Page 10