Sunlord

by Ronan Frost

  A few minutes later Capac was forced to rest.

  Myshia sensed his harsh breathing. "Are you hurt?"

  Capac stopped and leaned back against the round wall. He could not see her, but he felt Myshia close by, and further back, the heavy breathing of Ashian.

  "I got burnt a little, that's all. Those cursed flares didn't go off when I wanted them too - I was caught red-handed."

  Ashian slumped to a halt, resting his tired limbs. "It was lucky Myshia sensed you were in trouble."

  "How did you know? I didn't have time to shout."

  The darkness was silent for a moment.

  "It doesn't matter," Myshia dismissed. "What's more important is your burn. Is it bad?"

  "No, just my forearm. I twisted my leg when the robot shoved me against that wall and almost blasted me to hundreds of little bits."

  "Do you think you can continue?" Ashian had his ears perked for any sound of pursuit. "I'd like to get further away."

  Capac grunted. "I think so. Where are you, city man. Come up to the lead, you can show us where to go."

  Ashian was confused for a moment, for they were now in territory he had not explored before. Yet Capac had still turned to him. Perhaps they trusted his judgement.

  Ashian obeyed, and crawled past the other two in the confined space of the duct. As he passed Ashian felt Capac press something in his hand. Peering at it in the dark the slender rod revealed itself to be the telescope. Ashian raised it to his eye and saw through a greenish light that they sat inside a grimy tube that ran long and straight, a few gratings emerging from the roof. He focused his attention back to the fore and in a minute they were moving once again.

  Ashian chose a path that was as random and as complex as possible - he did not know where he was going, but he chose the path that seemed the least likely anyone should search.

  * * *

  Myshia could see only the vague outline of Ashian's back, relying as much on her ears as her eyes to guide her. She kept close upon the heels of the wily currach lest the faint sound of boots scuffing over the metal surface be drowned out by the humming of machinery that echoed around them.

  Her thoughts wandered as she slipped into a semi-sleeping state, the task of following Ashian only occupying part of her mind, leaving her consciousness to drift.

  A picture emerged from the mists of her mind's eye, a figure dressed in a thick layer of furs and hides bound about the waist by a leather sash. As the figure walked closer she saw that its lower half was glowing like red coals shadowed by an air of etherealness. For those few moments Myshia felt herself detach from reality; the sound of her own ragged breathing diminishing in her ears leaving her with a sensation of floating.

  The figure in her imagination sat down upon a reed mat and sucked on a long stemmed pipe.

  "Elder?" Myshia reached out involuntarily, her motions as uncontrollable as those in a dream. Her hand passed straight through the Elder's body. The Elder simply stood and embraced Myshia.

  "We did not get a chance to say goodbye," he said, smiling. "A time of great change is upon us and the spirits have seen the time to act, for their's is the power. Remember, my child, to stay firm - stay strong."

  Words ringing through her mind Myshia felt herself falling, plunging towards a stormy seascape below.

  Her voice was a harsh whisper in the dark. "We must go to Shaun. He is here."

  Ashian stopped. "On this ship?"

  "I know it - I can feel it. Let me lead the way."

  Capac was silent for a moment, confused. "Are you sure you know what your doing?"

  "I can't explain it...please...just follow," Myshia said, her voice choked with emotion and confusion.

  Ashian readily relinquished the lead and passed over the telescope. "Here, take this."

  Myshia shook her head. "It is not my sight I follow."

  They did not question further, but simply followed. They were lost and dispirited and it mattered not where they fled. Tears almost welled to Ashian's eyes as they struggled through terrifyingly claustrophobic air ducts, sometimes skidding out of control as the frictionless surface angled downward, groping for support and reassurance that he had not been separated from his friends. To measure the passage of time was impossible but quickly Ashian found that Myshia's pace was not slowing and her passage determined. Slowly he began to wonder if her strange magics held truth...

  A sudden cry of pain echoed down the network of tubing - distant and eerily hollow. But Ashian recognised it. It was Shaun.

  The need for stealth forgotten they hurried towards to the source of the sound, bare feet slipping and skidding as the diameter of the duct lessened. A surge of wind and Myshia came face to face with a spinning fan turbine, her nose just brushing the metal blades that, if touched, would have surely torn her head from her shoulders. Close behind Ashian saw the blade and shivered from the shock of coming so close to such a deadly apparatus.

  Myshia's voice was level and emotionless. "Capac - your rifle."

  Capac readily complied and unslung his rifle from his shoulder with a little difficulty. Ashian lay between them, so he passed it up to his awaiting hands. The latter took the slender instrument of death and kept it moving forward, the barrel pointed first at the place where he knew Myshia lay. If it accidentally triggered in this small enclosed space the result would certainly be disastrous. He handed it carefully to Myshia.

  She braced herself against the cold walls, jamming her elbows and knees as she prepared to strike, ignoring the whipping tendrils of her long hair, the deadly fan within arms reach. She drew back, settled her hands about the butt of the hard steel of the rifle, then suddenly lashed forward, driving the weapon like a lance. Metal clashed with metal and the gun was nearly wrenched from her hands. She held tight, knowing that if she let go she would have suffered multiple bruises as the butt spun by the blades of the fan. Twisting painfully her fingers involuntarily tightened upon the trigger.

  The blast almost ruptured her eardrums, the shockwave seemingly shattering everything in its path. Myshia kept her head low as she heard small pieces of shrapnel whiz past, the noise lashing like physical blows.

  The fan spewed a thick cloud of smoke. The rifle had been jammed hard against the engine mountings and the bullet tore a path through the gears, bending and snapping them into something unrecognisable. With a dying wheeze the fan spun slowly to a stop, the humming of the engine replaced by a terrible ringing in their ears.

  Myshia kicked through the damaged blades and squeezed through, dropping to the ground with feline grace. Sensing the openness around her she rolled to her feet, insectile eyes adjusting to the newfound light and space as Capac and Ashian followed close at her heels.

  The Sunlord moved quickly but not quickly enough. The knife strapped to her thigh was in her hand and flashing silver through the air, striking deeply into the Sunlord's chest.

  Ashian blinked. "Look out!"

  She ducked as something skimmed her head and crashed into the far wall. She turned and saw Capac's knife wedged between the plates of a small flying metallic disk. The strange robotic disk would have sliced Myshia's head from her shoulders had not Capac's thrown knife knocked it off course and slammed it against the wall.

  With fingers moving faster than he would have dared believe Ashian drew the stubby pistol from his belt. The panic of anticipation was past, the sweat no longer making his palms slippery, his thoughts now were lucid. There would be no retribution from Abas for killing machines, he knew. He brought the sight to bear and shot repeatedly as several humanoid robots lurched forward. He shot at them repeatedly until they stumbled, aiming to take out knee joints, having learned the futility of shooting at the chest or head plate of a droid and now concentrated on the weaker sections.

  Movement in the room lessened as the robots fell inert to the ground. They were obviously not designed for attack and judging by the way they moved they were simply industry workers, set about attacking by Avatar as a last resort.

>   At last when all of their enemy had fallen they had time to look where they had stumbled. Ashian's eyes caught on the pooling blood about the huge carcass of the Sunlord, its silk-like clothes soaked red and face pressed downwards into the cold slabs of the operating room. He quickly averted his eyes and lowered the hot pistol, smoke drifting lazily from the barrel.

  A groaning snapped his mind back into gear. He raced across the room, skirting the slippery blood pool, and was brought face to face with a tall naked and white man strapped to a bed. It was Shaun, his face shadowed with stubble and beaded with sweat.

  Capac sawed through the tough bonds with his retrieved knife, his muscles working against the springy resilient material until they gave way. As the two worked to free their human ally Myshia moved heavy pieces of machinery in front of the door, jamming it closed as best she was able.

  Shaun coughed and brought a hand to his head as soon as he was dragged into a sitting position, his legs hanging over the edge of the narrow hard bed, opening his eyes slowly. He tried to speak but gagged and almost lost consciousness again. Feeling painful irritation at the back of his throat and he hastily untaped the plastic feeder pipe and pulled it from his mouth like a huge worm.

  He blinked and the small natives drew into focus, their exoskeleton like skin still covered in a thick layer of grease. "Another I owe you, eh?" he asked groggily.

  The natives spoke in quick birdlike whistles - evidently the sight of him withdrawing a thirty centimetre long plastic tube from his lungs gave them cause for concern. Shaun tossed away the pipe, ignoring the ticking in his throat it had left.

  "I'm okay," he reassured them, pulling the black plastic suckers that measured his pulse from his chest. Wincing slightly, he unwrapped the sticky tape bound about his wrist and withdrew the long needle that had sucked his blood.

  The little one who had a ridge across his forehead that looked uncannily like a crease of worry brought forth a pile of clothing that he had scavenged from a nearby locker. Shaun laughed as he realised he was stark naked and was probably scaring the natives with his alien anatomy.

  He moved slowly at first to slip into the blue helicasuit that bore the Hartrias emblem. It was probably a medical assistant's lab coat, but would do to cloak his nudity. He drew up the zip and immediately felt warmer, not realising until that instant how cold he had been.

  "We'd better clear out of here," he said, feeling blood begin to flow once more.

  The natives looked puzzled and buzzed amongst themselves in high tones. Shaun realised that his captors must have taken his translator bug, and he could no longer understand the natives' tongue. He knew there was no time to ask about how they had found him. There was only the immediate future to be dealt with.

  He hunkered down beside the body of the Hartrias officer rolled the corpse face up, revealing that the Hartrias had a blaster in its hand, a dead finger in the trigger compartment. Shaun prised the dead officer's large six fingered hands free and took the blaster, assessing it as he stood. Its silver, gleaming surface was wide barrelled through the middle, narrowing to a fine opening towards the muzzle. It must be laser, he thought.

  One of the natives placed a pair of boots before Shaun. Glancing down Shaun realised that they were his own! The little currach must have found where all of his clothes were thrown. As Shaun pulled on his boots and strapped the sides he felt something press against his foot. Removing his boot, he recognised the small cylinder tucked down the side - it was the cartridge he had taken from the Flailer pistol.

  Dropping it aside he proceeded to put on his black hard toed boots. Ashian was looking at Shaun quizzically, making twittering noises and gesturing incomprehension. To Shaun it sounded totally unpronounceable, mid-syllables containing odd fluttering noises, a clicking of the tongue making a regular appearance. Shaun made a pantomime of showing that he could not understand them, either. He tried to explain why but he was unable, for the natives seemed to have no concept of a translator bug. Ashian shouted something to his comrades in sudden understanding and ran off to the nearby lockers.

  Bemused, Shaun watched as the queer little native scampered off. He turned, trying to place himself, working out where they lay on the Urisa, when the native returned with the translator bug between pinched fingers as if he had a rat by the tail.

  "You found it!" marvelled Shaun, taking the small device.

  They all froze as a deep thumping reverberated about the room, the air suddenly filled with tension. Shaun shoved the bug absently into a side pocket of the helicasuit - it could wait. He paced the room, searching for a way out. The duct through which the natives had come was way too small for his girth, and the door was only other exit. He moved to clear the debris that was stacked in front of it.

  He froze as Myshia's hand brushed his shoulder, the touch seeming to cause a spark between them. In that insane moment a crystal clear voice spoke through his head.

  Block the door. The Sunlords approach.

  Shaun darted around, wondering how the trick had been played on him. Was it a hidden speaker embedded in the walls? He tried to push the small female native away, but she held tenaciously; her lips did not move but her large gem-like eyes glowed compulsively, seeming to catch Shaun's gaze and hold it. Her mind was speaking inside his head.

  Shaun was taken aback. Telepathy was no totally unheard of, some primitive alien races having the ability to share thoughts with each other like bees sharing the same hive, but never had one been known to communicate with a human!

  Shaun had no time to contemplate and shook away with a feeling of dread, grimacing at the odd sensation. It was like Myshia's finger had for that brief moment passed through his thoughts as if they were seaweed; disturbing because he knew that had she wanted too Myshia could have closed her 'fist' and yanked, pulling away his sanity.

  Pulling away from Myshia's grasp the feeling of a second presence in his mind immediately vanished, as if a radio had been switched off. Snapping out of his reverie he began to stack all available machinery that wasn't bolted down in front of the door, not doubting for a second that if he opened the door he'd blasted into cinders before he'd taken a step.

  Capac and Ashian lent a hand to jam the door. Capac cut off a length of wire with his knife (only luck saving him from being electrocuted) then wound it about the door catch. From there he twisted the cable like a vine and tied it to the stout wall framing.

  Meanwhile Shaun cast about for something heavy and club like, finding a metal framed medicine stand that would have to do. He ripped a steel bar from the shelves, wielding it for a second as he got a feel for its weight. He placed his feet then swung the heavy bar into the door circuitry. He was rewarded with a dull flash and puff of smoke as the lock was fused, effectively sealing the door.

  While doing this Shaun felt uneasy: what if they were blocking their only exit?

  Either way, they would have to withstand the siege and the locked door may buy them some time. His thoughts derailed as a terrible yowling echoed from the open air duct, splitting the air in two with its bloodthirsty craving. The alien scream sounded partly like a hyena's cackle but far slimier, more reptilian.

  The natives, too, had frozen, the howl striking fear into their hearts.

  The Lectar were closing in. The dog like creatures the Hartrias used had picked up their scent and had caught up with them. Shaun could almost hear the scritching of their hard nails against steel as they scrambled at a blinding pace towards them.

  Shaun broke the tension to slam himself up against the wall nearest the small air duct opening. A split second later the Lectar burst through as if propelled by a cannon, deadly teeth flashing. Shaun whipped his pistol around, held at arm's length. A blast of blue laser fire snapped the Lectar in two before it had even hit the ground, pieces of the beast hitting the polished floor and skidding in all directions, leaving an ugly comma shape smear on the tiles.

  Shaun heard another yowl and pivoted on his heel, shoving the wide silver pistol down th
e air duct and letting off a lasting blast of scorching blue heat. A deep thumping was heard inside the ducts as another of the beasts was hit, its dismembered black-scaled body forced back the way it had come.

  Inspiration struck and Shaun gestured to Ashian hurriedly, pointing to where he had left the Flailer cartridge. Ashian ran to the medical bed, snatched up the small device and cast it back. Shaun watched the silver gadget arc through the air, reaching out and grabbing it deftly from its motion. Moving quickly, he bared the two wires with his teeth and twisted one about the metal plating around the lip of the duct and the other on the grill that he had swung back into place. He made the connection of wires and snatched away his hands as the grating now glowed with electricity.

  "That should hold them for a while," he muttered with grim satisfaction as he heard another Lectar strike the plate. The dark duct was lit for a brief moment with white light and a wild yell of pain as the Lectar in the duct drew back unsteadily, its black curved snout still tingling. Pacing like a caged beast it searched for another way around.

  Shaun threw open the sliding doors of the cabinets, casting aside medical paraphernalia in search of some firearms. With only a laser pistol he knew they were in desperate need of greater firepower if they were to resist the imminent strike.

  "Nothing," he cursed, scattering the last of the pill bottles and DNA sample specimens with a brush of his hand. "Even this helicasuit won't stand up to any flame." He spoke only partly to the uncomprehending natives, mainly to himself to make thought easier.

  His roving eyes caught on the gas intake value for the burners, used for heating samples and mixing medicines. He snatched a cutting knife from a bench and he hacked away at the steel reinforced cable. His motions were quick and economical, and within the space of twenty seconds had a jagged end in his hand, spewing invisible gas that made him retch. He doubled over the end of the plastic tube and squeezed it tight to block the gas. The pressure was great and he had to hold with all his might to avoid the toxic gas spilling over the entire room. With Capac's aid he overturned a table and lay it next to the door, ripping the gas tube from its wall mountings as he went.