by Ste Sharp
The spearman on the floor moved and mumbled, ‘We didn’t kill him.’
‘What?’ Tode stood over him, eyeing up his golden armour.
‘He was dead when we found him.’
Dakaniha said, ‘Our leader must have killed him! I told you – even armed with this gun, this soldier was defeated.’
‘Maybe,’ Tode answered.
‘What if he wants to kill us?’ Osayimwese asked.
‘Why?’ Dakaniha shook his head. ‘I say we give these two men the chance to join us.’
‘Let these murderers join us?’ Kastor said. ‘No way.’
‘There is more chance of survival in a larger group,’ Osayimwese said.
‘Then let’s vote if they should join us.’ Dakaniha raised his hand.
Tode looked to Osayimwese and, with a smile in Kastor’s direction, they both nodded.
***
‘It’s getting dark,’ Tode said. ‘We should set up camp.’
‘Just one more hill,’ Dakaniha said, and picked up the pace at the front.
He looked over his shoulder to the dozen men behind him: the lone travellers who had joined his search for a leader. The Incan and Mayan kept their distance from Kastor, as did Osayimwese.
‘There, on the next ridge!’ Osayimwese pointed to a dot of yellow light.
Dakaniha couldn’t hide his excitement. ‘Our leader’s camp!’
Leaving the group of soldiers behind, hoping to savour this moment, he jogged up the low hill and stopped to slow his breath, scratch his itchy temples and peer between the bulbous cactus leaves. A yellow glow reflected on the cap of the hill. Creeping forward, silently stepping around the protruding cacti, Dakaniha coughed politely before stepping into the firelight.
‘Oh…’
The fireside was empty. He circled the fire, picked out the most recent footprints and followed the trail with his eyes. In the dusk light, Dakaniha could see the most likely path, downhill then up. He breathed in sharply and ran back down to the waiting group of soldiers.
‘There’s another fire, in the distance.’ He spoke quickly. ‘We must go to it.’
‘As long as we get a meal after all this walking,’ Osayimwese whispered.
But when they reached the next fire, again they found nothing.
‘Is this a trap?’ Osayimwese asked.
‘There!’ Kastor pointed. ‘Another fire.’ It would take them diagonally away from their path.
‘Why is he doing this?’ the Mayan asked.
‘We must follow,’ Dakaniha insisted. ‘What else can we do?’
***
‘Nice trick!’ A voice called out as Gal-qadan sat at his original fire, which had burnt down to red coals – ideal for roasting. ‘I recognised it.’
Gal-qadan had the arrow in his bow pointing at the stranger and both men stared at one another, unsure of what to say.
‘This land has many surprises.’ The stranger spoke in a reverent tone. ‘But I didn’t expect to meet an ancestor.’ Slowly, he bent down to place his bow and quiver on the ground. ‘Hail, Great Leader, I am Tode.’
Gal-qadan remained tense, assessing the stranger, reluctant to let him share his fire. I could just kill him, he thought. Take his weapons and food. Maybe his boots as well. But this man could have knowledge of the land, which would be an advantage. But what about the others in the group? Could he trust them? The rush of questions overwhelmed Gal-qadan. So far, he had been alone and managed to push away most thoughts but, in the presence of another human, the floodgates opened.
Gal-qadan lowered his bow. He was no fool. Knowledge of this foreign land was more useful than a meal. Plus this soldier was a worthy companion if he had figured out his game of fires.
‘Come,’ Gal-qadan beckoned.
‘Thank you, Khan.’ Tode sat down.
‘Why “Khan”?’
Tode replied. ‘My companions and I search for a leader to guide us through this strange country.’
Gal-qadan’s stare intensified.
‘We have seen what you have accomplished and require guidance,’ Tode continued.
Gal-qadan grunted and turned to his food. What had he accomplished? He had simply walked from one place to the next, yet they expected answers from him!
Kill, kill. The familiar sound pounded through his head.
‘Where are you from?’ Gal-qadan asked to distract himself from the murderous voices.
‘I am of the Golden Horde,’ Tode said. ‘Our empire is centred around our capital, Sarai Batu.’
‘The western wing of the empire,’ Gal-qadan whispered to the glowing fire, accepting this man was from an age after his. ‘So the empire was divided after the Khan’s death?’
‘Yes, Batu and Orda were given…’
‘Enough!’ Gal-qadan held up a palm: he had never been interested in politics, only fighting. He sighed. He had planned to have eaten and been away from the fire within the hour, timing his departure to just after the motley crew had completed his ring of fires and found themselves back at the first fire.
‘These soldiers who travel with you. Are they from your Golden Horde?’
‘No.’ Tode gave a sharp headshake. ‘They come from distant lands… and ages, I suspect. They have good weapons and their skills are varied.’
‘Do any possess gunpowder?’ Gal-qadan asked between mouthfuls.
‘Yes, Khan,’ Tode replied.
Gal-qadan narrowed his eyes. So there is more here than just a group of lost men. He looked into the red coals of his fire and imagined what he could achieve with such an army.
Chapter 8
Delta-Six surveyed the beach and lake from his vantage point up a tall, evenly branched tree. What he had assumed were silver gates, during his flight from the obelisk hill, was an illusion created by whatever lay on the other side of the lake. Even from here, it was difficult to see what lay beyond.
‘Start log,’ he said. ‘My sixth day here and still no sign of the silver gates.’ He climbed down as he spoke, relaying his recent thoughts. ‘I’ve been thinking about the mutations I witnessed in the soldiers: Althorn’s speed, the Maori soaking water throughhis feet and John Greene’s arm andmachine gun. The changes echo how my suit has merged with my body. Is this a glitch in the virtual prison or are these changes actually taking place?’
Delta-Sixtook a last look at the soldiers building rafts further down the beach then jumped down from the lowest branch.
‘ Not all of the changes are physical ,’ he continued . ‘ Mihran, in the night troop , has developed an incredible ability to process data. After sampling his speech, my analysis suggests he is reciting and amending an algorithm of great complexity as he builds and rewrites a multilayered equation. But what for? W hy are any of these changes taking place? Are these others just creations for my sake or ha ve they have been imprisoned by the Guevarians as well? ’
D uring his training , Delta-Six had been told that a prisoner of a virtual prison would experience time at a slowed- down rate of two to one . E ven with the body kept at an optimum rate, a VR system could only contain a mind for a maximum of three days.
‘I’ve been here six days . ’ Delta-Six recorded his log a few hours later as he watched the combined D ay and Night Watch es build and supply their rafts. ‘There are no signs of scen ery degradation or data glitches, so o ne more day without anomalies and I will have to accept this land is real.’
Keeping o ut of sight of the other soldiers, Delta-Six crossed the beach and slipped into the water to test his mech-gills, which, with his jetpack, aligned with the thi cker aquatic environment, allowing him to swim and, he hoped, hitch a ride under one of the rafts .
***
John lay on the gently bobbing raft, leaning against his ammunition bag and watching the distant mauve horizon merge with the green-tinged sky. It was good to be sailing away from a land full of danger, he thought. The trenches may have been horrific, but at least he’d been able to escape to relative safety every four days.
In this land, John and his comrades had been surrounded by life-threatening events day and night.
‘And you had no idea Li was a woman?’ John heard Crossley tease Olan.
‘No! She was… dominant. She was in charge.’
John turned to see the Viking blush.
‘And what’s wrong with that?’ Crossley asked.
Olan shook his head and laughed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a strong woman.’
John thought of Rosie and sighed. What sort of woman would she have become? She would have made a great mother, he thought, and one day they would have taken over running his parents’ shop. He watched the hypnotic shapes of the sea and pictured Joe with his parents. What would they make of his adventures when he got home? Joe would believe every word, but his parents? No, he would have to hold back and just tell them the dull parts: the bits they expected to hear. He just had to get through these two weeks and he’d be back in England.
John took in a lungful of sea air to calm his speeding heart. The last time he’d been at sea was at the beginning of the war, when he’d crossed the Channel. He gripped a vine and turned to watch the other rafts. There were twenty bobbing across the sea, pulled by an unseen tide. Each raft carried ten or twelve soldiers – all eyeing the waters around them suspiciously. Samas and Mihran were in deep discussion on one raft, while Lavalle and Euryleia sat together on another. Randeep’s raft was bobbing awkwardly, as though the weight was distributed unevenly.
‘They’ll drift away if they stay like that,’ John said.
‘Who?’ Crossley asked.
John pointed. ‘Look how it lists.’
Crossley squinted and shook his head. ‘We balanced the weight. Something must have shifted.’ He shrugged. ‘They’ll use the paddles if they have to.’
John cast a glance at Mataon the other side of theirraft andswore he sawa fingerstretchand twirl a loop before twisting back down again.
‘Mata?’ John asked. ‘Are you alright?’
Mata looked up, like a child playing with a knife. ‘Yes.’ the word came too quickly and he shook his head. ‘Well, I feel better, I just…’
Mata slid across the raft to sit next to John.
‘Hey, watch it!’ Crossley shouted. ‘Move a box back if you’re going to do that.’
Mata shoved a box so hard it nearly knocked Crossley off the raft then looked at John. ‘Like you, it’s hard to accept, this new… change.’
John rubbed his gun-arm and nodded.
‘Only, I don’t carry it on the outside like you… and I fear my emotions taking over again.’
John pictured the broken bodies of the wolves: the vines, the blood and the sound of snapping bones.
‘So you try to control it?’
‘I will train myself to use it.’ Mata nodded as though he’d just made his mind up.
‘Good idea. It’s best to face these things,’ John said and remembered the day he’d left for war, when he had kept a smile on his face, for Joe more than anyone.
‘Face the enemy square on, John,’ his father had said, showing some rare emotion. ‘And come back in one piece, eh?’
Fear had been John’s real enemy. His stomach tightened as memories from the crater came back. He’d been able to control his fear then, hadn’t he? Alone in the mud. He knew he was going to die but he kept fighting: firing and reloading. He’d been strong fighting the wasps as well, hadn’t he?
John looked back to Randeep’s raft, which had caught up with the group.
‘What in Odin’s name is that?’ Olan pointed.
John followed the Viking’s finger to what he had assumed was an orange sunset.
‘It must be land!’ Mata stood up to get a better look.
‘Don’t rock the raft,’ Crossley shouted. ‘Come on!’
On a neighbouring raft, Bowman cupped his eyes and stared at the horizon.
‘Bowman!’ Olan called out. ‘What do you see?’
‘It’s land,’ the archer shouted back, ‘but not a beach. A cliff maybe?’
John found himself holding his breath as the rafts drifted closer to one another, pulled together by a rip current at increasing speed. Then an immense set of red cliffs revealed themselves, towering from sea to cloud, with a shimmering light emanating from within.
‘What’s that?’ John pointed to a dark line running down the wall.
‘Is it a waterfall?’ Mata asked.
‘God knows.’ Crossley sat down next to John. ‘But we’re heading straight for it, so we’d better get ready for a rough ride!’
John could see the other rafts had their oars ready.
‘Everyone – hold fast!’ Crossley shouted as the current pulled them in.
‘It’s a gap!’ Bowman shouted. ‘And we’re going through!’
John wound his arm tight in the vines as they were pulled through the gap in the cliffs like bath toys drawn to a plughole. With a rush of hot air, the rafts flew in on a mass of roiling water. The open sound of the sea was cut off and the turbulence jostled the boats where currents fought with one another.
The water calmed and the long line of rafts cruised through a red ravine in silence. Some hundred paces wide, the current kept the rafts away from the walls and, looking deep into the clear water, John was sure he could see the red stone continue beneath for several leagues.
‘Of all the things I’ve seen,’ Crossley said with a shake of the head.
‘It doesn’t look natural, that’s for sure.’ Li could be heard three rafts behind. ‘And it must have some purpose.’
They cruised on, their every sound echoing down the long gulley, until Mihran shouted from the front raft. ‘It’s opening up!’
John squinted to see a white line ahead.
‘And it’s speeding up.’ Mata pointed to the widening gap between each raft.
The fleet rushed through the last stretch of the chasm on a bed of white water and, when they popped out the other side, John found himself staring at a huge, mist-shrouded lake.
‘Look, another entrance over there.’ Bowman pointed to a dark line in the cliffs.
‘And another.’ Althorn pointed to the other side.
The rafts rocked rhythmically as they traversed the vast lake, revealing their skirt of purple bladders with each bob. They spotted more potential entrances or exits along the way, each one disappearing behind a blanket of mist.
‘They’re identical,’ Bowman shouted from his raft, ‘and all flowing into the lake.’
‘Where’s the current taking us then?’ Crossley asked, looking ahead into the mist.
‘There must be a river leading from the lake,’ Mata said. ‘Look, there are no cliffs over there.’
‘Hey, did you see–’ John said, sure he’d seen a flash of light under the water.
The others turned to him.
‘I saw lights,’ John said, keeping his eyes on the water.
‘There!’ Mata pointed off to starboard. ‘Two flashes.’
‘Did you see that shadow?’ John said. ‘Deep down.’
Crossley was rapidly unstrapping the bamboo paddles and handing them out. ‘Yeah, I saw it. We need to move!’
‘I don’t like ships without sides!’ Olan started working his oar like a professional.
Unable to row, John stared into the waters, searching for shapes among the waves and ripples. ‘Another flash!’ he pointed. ‘Whatever’s down there must have weapons.’
As he spoke, a smooth, snake-like tail curled out of the water five metres away and splashed a nearby raft.
‘Hold tight!’ Bowman yelled and they gripped boxes as the wave rocked the raft.
John heard an explosion and spun around to see Li firing red-hot beams into the water, sending up plumes of steam where each pulse hit.
‘Loose!’ A call came from another raft, where archers were firing at the water.
Smoke from rifles was mixing with the haze of the lake, clouding everyone’s view.
‘Where is it?’ Crossley asked.
‘There’s more than one.’ Mata pointed to the raft where Mihran and other soldiers frantically rowed away from a bulge in the lake, which rose to reveal a scaly mass of flesh, covered in sharp barbs.
Crossley turned to paddle, missing the moment the creature fired a cloud of darts at the soldiers, but John saw a swordsman struck in the neck and topple off his raft.
‘Shit!’ John scrambled backwards, kicking his ammo bag off the side. ‘No!’ He lunged forward to grab the handle but it slipped under.
‘Keep back!’ Mata grabbed John and pulled him to the centre of the raft.
‘But my–’ John saw bubbles where his bag had been.
‘It’s not worth dying for,’ Mata said and looked up in shock. ‘Tane-Mahuta!’
John’s stomach tightened as a thick, snake-like body rose from the water revealing a large, scaly head.
***
Clinging to the bottom of the raft, Delta-Six was busy taking notes on the bizarre geology of the narrow gorge and the lake floor, when the first shape appeared. It swam up from the darkness below, circled once then descended out of sight. A second, longer silhouette followed, then another from the opposite direction. Delta-Six’s scans showed they were a diverse range of predators – fish, invertebrate, insectoid – none of which showed any physiological connection to any animals on his database.
Then one of the creatures attacked the lead raft. Delta-Six watched the bodies fall into the water, some pulled down by the weight of their armour, others dragged down and torn apart by smaller predators drawn in by the commotion.
Delta-Six fired his pulse weapon as one came close to him, burning off a fin, but the second creature – an eel-like beast – was tenacious and took three blasts to its stone head before retreating. He saw the long beam of another pulse rifle shearing through water and beast alike, but it was too little. The soldiers were defenceless in this environment, and the creatures kept coming. He had to draw the attackers away.