“Kvuuh, kvuuh! I see the shell!” Caleb looked up just long enough to see the Ewahi’s flapping silhouette drifting over the forest. Barely dodging another branch, Caleb peered ahead, trying to see the abandoned ship through the tangled tree trunks. After a few more minutes of crashing along through the bushes, Tess yelled and pointed up ahead.
“Look, metal!” she said, sounding barely winded. With a mix of envy and appreciation, Caleb wondered if her lungs had air sacs extending into hollow limb bones like a real raptor.
“Kuu, kuu. She is right,” Krezahu clucked.
Caleb squinted, then spotted a bright gleam of sunlight on polished steel. In moments, the group slowed to a stop in a small, brush-filled clearing. Tess stood and stretched her sleek leg muscles, rubbing her calves and panting lightly. Krezahu settled beside her, huffing and chirping to himself. Caleb climbed down from Chuck’s saddle and looked up to see where Kchawr-Uou had gone. The Ewahi was circling lazily, finally slowing and coming to rest on the top of a dead, branchless tree next to the ship.
The vessel was identical to the ones that Caleb had seen as a small boy. It was one of the small, trilobite-shaped vessels that served as scout ships for the Ne Shaazi. The metal skin of the craft gleamed silver in the sun, with strange patches of discoloration here and there, rainbow colored like an oil slick. Several areas of the hull were badly corroded or covered with thick, crusty mineral deposits. As Caleb stepped closer he saw that there were dozens of scratches, dents, and repair marks on the ship’s surface, the result of years of use. He wondered if the Ne Shaazi had even bothered to build any new ships since their initial attacks. He realized that no one really had any idea exactly how many ships were out there, only that there were many. Caleb had seen dozens of the Ne Shaazi ships in the years since his ordeal in San Francisco. The vessels continued to be seen flying in high-altitude formations long after the large cities were destroyed, cruising on unknown missions. Very rarely, Caleb would hear of an attack on some of the new settlements, but he had never seen proof of such a thing himself until the caravan was destroyed.
Kchawr-Uou preened himself casually as Tess and Krezahu peered into the open hatch at the rear of the ship. Caleb walked around to peek over their shoulders.
The entire rear half of the ship was jointed to spread open, allowing a comfortable entry and exit for the long-limbed Ne Shaazi. As Caleb looked inside, he was surprised at the cabin’s spaciousness. There was a long walkway sloping up from the tail end into the “head” of the ship, which widened out to allow room for complex controls and the large eyeball-windows. A long, narrow seat sat low on the floor in front of the controls, oddly proportioned and sloped so that a Ne Shaazi could rest its belly on the cushioned surface. A low electric hum could be heard emanating from the broad control panel and the rubber coated floor of the cabin.
“Motor’s still running,” Tess muttered.
“Yeah, but how?” Caleb asked. “And on what?”
“Solar?” Tess suggested. “Or maybe really good batteries?”
“I don’t know...” Caleb said, starting to step cautiously up the ramp into the cabin. “I wonder what’s different about this machine that it can run on electricity but nothing else can?”
Tess followed Caleb into the ship, Krezahu trailing nervously behind.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter how it works, as long as it works,” Tess said, staring at the bewildering array of controls and displays. “It’s not like any of us are electronics experts after twenty years of blackout.”
Caleb stared at a large, black, mirror-like screen mounted in the middle of the control panel between the wide-set windows. He reached out tentatively and brushed the glass with his fingertips. His hand jerked back involuntarily when the screen lit up with a glowing image of the surrounding forest.
“Wow,” Caleb whispered, staring close at the bright pixels flickering in front of him. “This is the first live television screen I’ve seen since I was nine.”
Tess stared over his shoulder at the glowing picture. “Kinda’ weird, isn’t it?” she said. “I wonder if we can use one of their power sources to run our old machines?”
Caleb nodded and began examining the controls in the light of the video monitor. They were neatly labeled in English. He was surprised to see that much of the control panel had a sort of jury-rigged, spare-parts look to it. It looked as if it had been built hastily out of modified parts. Caleb read some of the labels on the dials and toggle switches.
“Floodlights, laser targeting system, navigational computer, hatch controls, gyro-stabilizers... Whoa, look at this,” he said, pointing to several rows of dials and meters. “See that? ‘Magnetic Stabilization Array.’ I wonder what the hell that does?”
Tess pointed to a pair of rubber handgrips set in front of the seat. They were mounted horizontally, more like bicycle handlebars than aircraft controls.
“That must be the steering wheel,” she said.
Caleb nodded. “Well, we’re never going to get anywhere if we don’t try flying this thing. Let's see if it’s ready to go.”
As Caleb settled awkwardly on the Ne Shaazi seat, the ship lurched oddly to one side. He heard Krezahu grunt loudly behind him.
“Uurk! Foolish beast—step on your own tail!”
Caleb spun around to see Chuck crammed into the small cabin, her tail just inside the ramp and her nose only inches from the back of Caleb’s head.
“Oh, that’s real good,” Tess grumbled as Chuck almost knocked her over.
“Chuck!” Caleb yelled, “No! What do you think you’re doing? You’ll have to wait here, girl. Get out! Go on, get!” Chuck settled onto the hard floor and growled quietly.
“Caleb,” Tess groaned, “this isn’t going to work. Bad girl, Chuck! Scram!”
Chuck lowered her horned snout and growled louder.
“Uh, Caleb?” Tess said nervously. “How do we get her out?”
Caleb stared into Chuck’s scowling yellow eyes, then shrugged. “I don’t think we can.”
“What? Caleb!” Tess whined. “We can’t bring her with us!”
“Why not? She’s big, strong and fast. I bet she could gulp a Ne Shaazi in two bites.”
Chuck stared at Tess and rumbled deep in her throat.
“Fine,” Tess sighed. “Let’s see if we can even get off the ground like this.”
Caleb turned back to the control panel and examined the various switches. He found the knob marked ‘Rear Hatch’ and turned it. The opened panels slowly slid shut behind them, closing with a hiss and a clank. On the monitor, Caleb saw Kchawr-Uou flap his wings nervously on his perch. Caleb pressed a button labeled ‘loudspeakers’ and spoke into a small microphone. The Ewahi squawked in surprise as Caleb’s voice echoed outside the ship.
“Kchawr-Uou,” he said, wincing at the loudness of his amplified voice. He spoke again, softer this time. “We thank you for all your help. I think we’ll be okay from here. You might want to move away in case we have trouble steering.”
The Ewahi bobbed his head in a nodding gesture, then quickly flew up into the sky.
“Well, here we go,” Caleb said. He grabbed hold of the hand controls and tried pushing forward gently.
The ship shuddered, then slid forward through the dirt, grinding stones and sand under its metal belly. Tess and Krezahu nearly tipped over, and Chuck moaned nervously.
“Oh, crap,” Caleb muttered under his breath. “Whoops. Sorry guys.”
He repositioned his hands on the oddly shaped handles, then pulled up slightly. Caleb’s stomach lurched as the ship lifted slowly into the air, stopping five feet above the ground and rocking gently like a boat in the water. He noticed that the numerous dials under the ‘Magnetic Stabilization Array’ label were surging wildly. One of the meters, marked ‘local field,’ consisted of a tiny video screen showing a relief map of the surrounding terrain, with a tiny image of the hovering ship in the center of the map. Strange red lines streamed across the electric-green landscap
e, running north-to-south. Some of the red lines seemed to curve up out of the ground, clustering together and passing directly through the ship image. Caleb pulled up on the controls again, raising the ship another ten feet. The tiny ship on the display also rose, causing the surging red lines to distort further.
“Holy crap,” Caleb muttered, more to himself than any of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Tess asked nervously.
“I think these things are floating on magnetic fields,” Caleb said.
“Oh,” Tess said, sounding unimpressed.
“It’s like those maglev trains that used to float on magnetic tracks, except this thing is floating on a distortion of the earth’s magnetic field.”
“Right...” Tess said, “So... is it still working?”
“Oh yeah, it works fine,” Caleb said, pulling gently on the controls.
Tess gripped the edge of the control panel as the ship glided forward and swept into a broad turn. Outside the red-tinted side window, the ground dropped away rapidly. Krezahu peered out of the other window and clucked in amusement, while Chuck crouched as low to the floor as possible and whimpered.
“Hey, look at this,” Tess said, trying to cover the nervousness in her voice. “This thingy looks like a map.” She pointed to a small monitor on one side of the controls. It showed a small red dot at its center, surrounded by blue outlines of hills and rivers. A small compass rose blinked in one corner. At the far edge of the map, a larger red dot blinked on and off.
“That big dot must be the mother ship,” Caleb said. “Well, the sooner the better, I guess. Is everyone ready to go?”
Tess and Krezahu nodded silently, eyes focused on the hazy horizon. Chuck whined softly behind Caleb’s head. Caleb checked the map again, then nudged the controls, pointing the rocking craft toward the distant mother ship. With a slight push on the controls, the ship swept forward through the cloudless sky.
The ship appeared sooner than Caleb expected. He had forgotten the vast size of the Destroyers, and was surprised to glance up at the view screen and see the mountainous bulk hovering silently above the rugged foothills of the Bear River Range. Caleb flinched at the sight, scowling darkly as he tried to shake the memories that flooded from the depths of his mind. He had seen one of these vessels before, much closer than the one he saw now. It was one of the thousand-foot-long destroyers, its tusk-like tentacles dangling beneath the blunt, blank-eyed head and timeworn armor plating.
Caleb glanced at Krezahu and Chuck, who both stared with blank expressions out of the red-tinged side window. Tess’s eyes flicked back and forth from the large view screen to the other side window. Her face was rigid, almost mask-like, but Caleb saw a deep and powerful fear hiding behind her golden eyes. She had probably had her own run-ins with the Ne Shaazi ships in the past. Even twenty years after his own terrifying ordeal, Caleb’s heart still thudded in his chest at the sight of the nightmare ships.
As the metallic behemoth loomed ever closer on the view screen, Krezahu turned his gaze on Tess and Caleb.
“Tiich, tiich, young ones,” he clucked quietly. Caleb detected an edge of nervousness in his voice. “We must calm our hearts or they will cry out to the Ne Shaazi. Do not forget your fears. No, no. But do not let them own you. Your fear is your own, to use as you will. Let it be a source of caution, a guide in darkness, not a stone on your back.”
As Krezahu crooned in his soothing tones, Caleb felt a slight tingle in the air, followed by a growing sense of calm and clarity. Behind him, even Chuck’s nervous panting subsided. Caleb realized that Krezahu was tapping into the World Tree, using his talents to soothe their hearts and minds. He saw the pattern of tranquility in the Awaru’s speech, and let it echo within his own thoughts, amplifying and strengthening the effect. Just then a small green light blinked above a radio transmitter set in the control panel. Tess flinched as a rasping Ne Shaazi voice erupted from the speaker.
“Scout Five, this is Destroyer Twenty-One. Explain your delay.”
Caleb laid a finger on the “talk” button and opened his mouth to speak, wondering exactly what he should say.
“Destroyer Twenty-One, this is Scout Five, reporting,” Krezahu grumbled, perfectly mimicking a Ne Shaazi’s growl with his parrot-like voice. “I experienced a minor engine malfunction and was forced to set down for repairs. Unfortunately I had to cut main power to access the malfunction, so my long-range radio was down. Requesting entry for further repairs.”
Caleb stared, drop-jawed, at Krezahu. The old Awaru whispered in his ear.
“You, too, will learn to speak that which others wish to hear.”
“Request granted,” the Ne Shaazi said. “Report to bay two for inspection. Destroyer out.”
“Copy that,” Krezahu growled, winking at Caleb. “Scout Five out.”
Caleb shook his head wonderingly and cast a nervous glance at Tess, who leaned rigidly against the wall of the cabin. Repositioning his sweating hands on the controls, Caleb steered the ship closer to the destroyer. In minutes, the rumbling vessel completely filled the view screen. Caleb squinted and stared at the pocked and corroded hull, wondering what had worn away so heavily at the dense armor. This ship, like the small scout vessel, seemed to be covered in patches of thick mineral deposits and strange discolorations.
Caleb brought the scout lower as they neared the destroyer, preparing to sweep under the giant ship’s belly and into one of the docking hatches mounted in its underside. As the small craft drifted past the bottom edge of the destroyer, Caleb got a good view of the worn and crusted armor. He could see a particularly familiar pattern spread across the heavy plating. It reminded him of the hulls of large oceangoing ships he had seen as a child. Tess stared at several broad patches of small, round bumps scattered across the stained metal.
“Whoa, Caleb...” she said in a hushed voice, “are those barnacles?”
Caleb had been thinking the same thing. He now realized that the mineral deposits he had seen on the outside of their stolen scout ship were sea salt.
“Yeah,” he replied, “they must park these things underwater somewhere. They might even have some kind of deep-sea base or something.” The idea seemed fitting, given the ships’ resemblance to extinct sea creatures.
The brine and barnacles passed out of sight as the ship glided underneath the destroyer’s dimly glowing belly. Caleb felt a growing sense of claustrophobia as they floated beneath the titanic machine, rocky hills spread out several hundred feet below them.
Midway down the length of the destroyer’s belly, a dark, circular area began to spread open with a grind of metal on metal. Caleb could see guide-lights lining the circular hatch, blinking bright blue.
“Ok, everybody stay back from the windows,” Caleb warned. “We want to keep the element of surprise as long as possible.”
Tess and Krezahu nodded silently and watched the view screen as Caleb steered the ship up toward the circular hatchway. The curved spines projecting from the sides of the scout fit neatly within the round opening, with ten feet of clearance on either side. Caleb managed to keep the craft fairly centered in the opening as he pulled up on the controls, bringing the ship through the short shaft and into the small hangar.
Caleb breathed a sigh of relief as he brought the ship to a stop, waiting for the hatch to close beneath them. The hangar was only large enough for one ship, with a single pair of large, jointed doors set in the wall to the right. He had wondered if the hangers would be separate, or if they would emerge into a single large bay. He was elated to see that they would have at least a moment or two of privacy in which to slip out of the ship.
The inner doors clanged shut beneath the scout-ship, and Caleb lowered the vessel onto the solid metal surface. With a quick glance around at the others, Caleb hit the door switch and waved Tess and Krezahu down the ramp past Chuck’s thick tail. Once Tess and Krezahu stepped out onto the hangar floor, Caleb pressed the door switch and ran down the ramp. He could hear Chuck growling and shuff
ling about inside the ship as its hatch sealed once more, rocking the small craft as she tried to turn around inside the closed ship. Caleb waited a few tense moments for Chuck to settle down, then followed Tess and Krezahu as they trotted over to the large double doors.
“I thought you wanted her to help fight,” Tess whispered.
“We need stealth right now,” Caleb said. “There’s no way we’re going to sneak down hallways or crawl through air ducts with a full-grown ceratosaur tagging along.”
Tess nodded as Caleb turned to examine the doors. There was a simple control pad to one side, with a switch to open and close the doors, plus a manual crank and lock. Caleb pressed the “open” button and ducked back behind the doorway.
The doors slid open slowly, folding into their wall slots with an echoing thump. Caleb carefully peered around the edge of the doorway into the hall, scanning left and right for any sign of movement.
The hall was empty, a featureless metal corridor lit with dim red lights, extending roughly a hundred feet in either direction in a gentle curve. Tess stepped gingerly out into the hallway behind Caleb, her black pupils narrowed down to thin slits in her golden eyes. There was no sound of movement or voices, only the muffled hum of the great ship’s engines. Caleb began walking down the hall toward the rear of the ship, guessing that the old-bloods might be locked up far away from the command center.
Caleb had only walked twenty feet or so, with Tess ten feet behind and Krezahu still peering out of the doorway, when a sound echoed down the hall behind him. It sounded like clawed feet clicking heavily on thick metal flooring. As Caleb and Tess spun around, they heard a voice call out from the far end of the corridor.
“Stop,” it growled in a deep monotone.
Caleb tensed to run, then stared confusedly at the sight at the end of the hall. The figure was large, roughly seven feet tall, with long, powerful legs, a thick tail, tiny arms, and a massive, fang-filled jaw.
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