Arkship Vengeance (The Arkship Saga Book 2)

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Arkship Vengeance (The Arkship Saga Book 2) Page 17

by Niel Bushnell


  ‘Scared enough to shoot us.’

  ‘Maybe . . .’ He forced himself to stand.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Bara hissed.

  Derward ignored her. ‘I’m not armed,’ he shouted as he approached the door. ‘We don’t want to hurt you. We’re here to help. We have food and water, enough for everyon–’

  ‘Liar!’ a voice shouted, then another shot ripped a box apart, close to Derward’s head. He ducked to the floor. ‘Sol! Don’t shoot! You’re in danger. It’s not safe here.’

  There was a tense pause. The faint echo of voices came from beyond the doorway. They were talking over his offer.

  ‘You’re Kenric! You’re killers!’ the voice responded.

  ‘No,’ Bara said, joining Derward. ‘I know you’re afraid. But I know you’re hungry as well. Orcades has forgotten you! You don’t owe him anything. Come with us and we’ll see you are cared for. Your children will be fed.’

  ‘We are Draig!’

  ‘And you still will be,’ Derward replied. ‘We’re not asking you to become Kenric. All we’re doing is offering you a way out. If you want a better life, all you have to do is walk down this corridor to our arkship. Once this is over, we’ll find you a place of your own – a ship of your own. You can choose who you want to be.’

  Derward waited, listening. The arkship wheezed as it shifted position.

  ‘We don’t have long,’ he continued. ‘I’m going to move these boxes, and step back.’

  Derward stood, expecting it to be his last move. He removed the first box, stealing a glance into the vast space beyond. It looked to be some sort of hydroponics bay, or a processing plant, but the equipment was ransacked and useless. In its place was a throng of faces, all staring up at him. He only had a second to take it in, but the expressions of hopelessness and destitution were indelibly burned into his mind. He removed another storage container and a length of pipe, enough for the doorway to be passable, and stepped back into the corridor.

  ‘Lower your guns,’ he whispered to the soldiers lining the walls, and waited.

  At first, nothing happened, then he heard footsteps, the slow pad of a person coming his way. A child appeared in the doorway, a little girl whose face he could never forget. Behind her was her father, his gaunt features a mix of fear and relief. Derward remembered his name: Gibbons. A desperate man who only wanted his daughter to be safe and cared for. Derward smiled, praying today he would see that wish fulfilled.

  Behind Gibbons, a growing line of anxious people emerged, and the soldiers herded them towards the Vengeance.

  THE PEACEMAKER

  Orcades Draig let his white flag drop to the floor and crossed his hands behind his back, a sense of triumph making him stand taller.

  ‘You risk your life for this showmanship? You always were a fool.’

  Orcades glanced to his side. There was his mother, that familiar look of disappointment on her thin face. He shook his head, trying to ignore her.

  ‘You know why I am here,’ he shouted towards the Kenric invaders. ‘This fighting is pointless. Come out and face me. I wish to talk.’

  Sinnsro Draig laughed. ‘You have the sights of a dozen guns on your head. You will talk your brains onto the floor.’

  He closed his eyes. His mother’s presence was unhelpful to his calm.

  ‘I can hear you, Draig. Say what you’ve come to say.’

  Orcades recognized the voice. The prince was here. Good!

  ‘I offer you a truce, Prince Halstead, an end to this war. All I ask is the old price, the one I’ve always asked of you: your head.’

  One of the soldiers cursed, and a shot erupted. A flash of light appeared in front of Orcades. His soldiers responded, and the two sides released their weapons on each other. In the center of it all, standing and laughing, was Orcades Draig.

  He raised his hand and, one by one the guns fell silent. The sound of exultant laughter prevailed.

  Orcades stole a moment to look at his mother, to wallow in her stupid slack-jawed expression of disbelief. He pictured the Kenric soldiers, no doubt their faces mirrored his mother’s. Then he turned back in the direction of the prince. ‘Now, shall we talk?’

  DUEL

  ‘How is he still alive?’ Tanis whispered to Wynn.

  ‘I wish I knew.’ Wynn replied, feeling a primal fear deep within him. It was as if he was looking at a god, walking amongst men.

  ‘Come out and face me,’ Orcades shouted. ‘Just you and me, Halstead. Or should I call you Wynn? Isn’t that what your friends call you? I’m sure we can be friends.’

  Wynn sensed Gofal crouching beside him, and he turned to look into his friend’s expressionless face.

  ‘He has some sort of device around his waist,’ Gofal said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s using up a lot of power.’

  ‘Is that what’s protecting him?’

  ‘A personal Gilgore grid? Yes, it’s possible, but condensing that sort of technology down to a wearable device would make it very dangerous and volatile for the user.’

  ‘Volatile?’

  Gofal looked towards Orcades. ‘It’s liable to explode.’

  ‘Can it be disabled?’ Tanis asked.

  ‘If we can get close enough.’

  Wynn stared at Orcades. He wore a long coat, hiding his waist, but he saw now the bulky shape around his middle.

  ‘Wynn, don’t make me come over there,’ Orcades said, taking a step towards them.

  ‘All right!’ Wynn shouted.

  Both Tanis and Gofal turned to stare at him.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Wynn whispered.

  ‘No, it’s not!’ Tanis said.

  Wynn braced himself and shouted, ‘I’m coming out, but if your soldiers try anything my people will bring the fury of the Gods down on you.’

  Orcades swung his arms wide. ‘You have my word . . . one half-brother to another.’

  Wynn felt the hairs on his neck bristle. He ignored the fear and stood up. He walked out of his hiding place towards Orcades Draig.

  ‘You don’t look well,’ Wynn noted.

  Orcades laughed, pacing the open space. Above him, a row of lights swayed, casting faltering illumination between them, throwing shifting shadows over the walls.

  Wynn stopped opposite Orcades, waiting.

  ‘Years ago, long before the Fracture, the Earth was full of princes like you,’ Orcades said. His voice was calm and quiet. ‘Every country had a king, every king a handful of princes. Now there are none, not even a king. Just you, a mere prince. Why is that? Why do you Kenrics never have a king?’

  ‘It is a mark of honor. King Leof was the last. He brought us out of the Fracture. He led us through that dark time and formed the House of Kenric. He saved our people. After his death, it was agreed that there would be no other king to replace him. But you already know this, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course, but I could never understand why.’

  ‘How could you?’ Wynn smiled. ‘You must understand honor to understand our way.’

  Orcades shook his head, a weary expression on his face, like a father berating an ignorant child. ‘Honor? I understand well enough, Wynn. Your Kenric honor equals arrogance. You think yourselves better than other families. Your honor has led you here, to your demise. Your House lies in ruins, but I will fix that. I will do what you could never dream of achieving, Wynn. I will return your family to its rightful place in the Cluster. I will bring peace and prosperity . . . when I am their king.’

  ‘Prosperity?’ Wynn scoffed. ‘Your own people go hungry. You do not care for those on this very arkship!’

  Orcades turned his back, dismissively. ‘When the Earth was full of kings and princes, do you know how they settled disputes? They fought – with honor – sword against sword, their destiny determined by the swing of a blade.’

  He opened his long coat and revealed two swords hanging from his waist. ‘You are a man of tradition, aren’t you, Wynn? A man of honor?’


  He unclipped one of the swords and slid it across the floor towards Wynn.

  ‘Your arkship burns, Orcades, your people starve, and yet you want to duel?’ Wynn said, staring at the weapon.

  ‘Yes. Unless you would prefer we both unleash our soldiers.’

  Wynn picked up the sword, testing the weight in his hand, then he looked up at Orcades, determined.

  ‘The weapon you hold is more than three hundred years old,’ Orcades grinned. ‘Can you imagine?’ He raised his own sword, slicing at the air before pointing it in front of him.

  Wynn raised his own weapon, feeling ill-prepared for this sort of combat. He recalled lessons in fencing, when he was a young boy. But that was so long ago, and this was a very different blade.

  Orcades lunged towards him, swinging his sword high above his head. Wynn managed to block his move, but he underestimated the force coming towards him, and he fell onto his back. Orcades took the advantage and jabbed the sword down towards Wynn’s head. He rolled out of the way, and Orcades’ blade struck the floor, sending sparks into the air.

  Wynn pulled himself to his feet, breathing hard. He charged at Orcades, swinging his sword towards his side – and was thrown back by a recoil of electric light. He landed on the floor, sliding into the wall, his vision burned by the afterglow of the impact.

  Orcades laughed, advancing. ‘Come on! You can do better than that!’

  From the shadows, a blurred figure ran at Orcades, firing his gun. It was Tanis! Orcades turned on him, meeting his advance, and plunged his sword through the Lord Chamberlain’s chest. The pair stood motionless, a conjoined silhouette against the dissipating electrical glow. Then Orcades dropped Tanis to the ground. He gasped once, twice, then his mouth hung open, his eyes lifeless.

  ‘No!’ Wynn screamed.

  Orcades threw his head back and laughed.

  He could never hope to defeat him, Wynn realized, not as long as his personal Gilgore gird was active. He stood, feeling his limbs aching, and stared at Orcades. That belt he wore, he had to shut that down, if he stood a chance of beating him.

  Wynn stepped back, letting his sword hang down, luring Orcades towards him.

  ‘Please . . . don’t,’ Wynn said weakly.

  Orcades’ eyes widened, and he rushed towards him, screaming.

  Wynn raised his sword and lunged at the belt. It struck the device, throwing off a huge flash of light. Orcades staggered back as the belt spewed out arcs of electricity onto him. Wincing in pain, he unbuckled it and let it drop to the floor.

  He looked up at Wynn, just in time to see him charging. Orcades defended himself, rallying with his sword, landing blow after blow on Wynn’s blade. They circled the room, both desperate to break the others’ defenses.

  The exertion was taking its toll on Wynn. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. Orcades came at him again, moving quickly, dodging his strikes, relentlessly attacking, until his sword struck home.

  Wynn cried out, clutching his bleeding arm. The cut was deep, and he had lost any sensation in his fingers. He swapped the sword into his other hand, just as Orcades struck again. Wynn fell to his knees, defending himself as best he could, but Orcades was winning. His face beamed with exultation.

  ‘A prince?’ Orcades laughed. He let the tip of his sword graze Wynn’s face, cutting into the skin. ‘You do not deserve the title.’ He raised the sword high above his head, ready to strike Wynn’s undefended body, when the arkship tilted violently.

  Orcades lost his balance and toppled forwards, just as Wynn raised his sword. He felt the blade shudder as it struck Draig’s body, sinking through his clothing and into his side. Orcades looked down at it, an expression of surprise on his bloodied face. His legs crumpled, and he reached out to Wynn. Their faces were just inches away from each other.

  ‘No . . . honor,’ Orcades said, breathlessly, his hands gripping Wynn’s shoulders.

  ‘No honor,’ Wynn agreed, looking down at Tanis’ body. He pulled the sword free, watching the blood river over the metal. Orcades gasped, then his gasp became a scream.

  As if in response, a guttural noise grew from deep beneath them. The deck lurched upwards, and Wynn felt himself fall. The far side of the space swung away, and a crack opened up, dissecting the room in two. The lifeless body of Cam Tanis slid into the abyss, and Orcades fell with it, his hands searching for purchase. He caught himself on the edge, breathing hard, and stared into the void.

  ‘Mother?’ he said. ‘Where have you gone?’

  The floor shifted position once more, and Orcades disappeared into the opening rift.

  Wynn felt Gofal’s hands yank him clear, and they retreated away from the breach as fire engulfed the space.

  ‘Is he dead?’ Wynn asked.

  ‘I cannot detect him,’ Gofal replied. ‘We must leave. The Fenrir is too unstable.’

  Wynn shook his head, determined to go on. ‘We have to end this.’

  ‘It’s already ended,’ Gofal said. ‘The arkship is dying. I am detecting a possible fallorite heat cascade. We have to get the Vengeance clear.’

  ‘Bara! You have to tell–’

  ‘I already have,’ Gofal replied. ‘She’s getting out, same as us.’

  Wynn took one last look at the burning abyss. He walked towards it, getting as close as the heat allowed, then he threw the sword into the fire.

  ‘Goodbye, old friend,’ Wynn said to Tanis, then he turned to leave.

  PROMOTION

  Admiral Valine switched off the monitor feed, satisfied that Orcades Draig was dead. Perhaps, in hindsight, activating the Fenrir’s maneuvering thrusters had been a bit excessive. Prince Halstead would probably have defeated Orcades without her help. Still, a little push didn’t harm, even if it had caused more damage to her arkship than it had already suffered.

  Her arkship. She smiled, mulling over the consequences of Orcades’ demise. She was now the highest-ranking person in the House of Draig. And, thanks to the oath-taking ceremony, she was also the most important member of the Draig family still breathing. Everything was proceeding as she had planned. Of course, none of this meant anything, she reminded herself, if she didn’t survive today’s skirmish.

  ‘Status?’ Valine said to the officer at her side.

  ‘Engine deck reports a cascade in the fallorite rods. We cannot withdraw until it is under control.’

  ‘They are certain it can be contained?’

  ‘Yes, Admiral.’

  Valine nodded. ‘Continue.’

  ‘The Tateishi-Maru is putting up strong resistance. The Caerleon has taken up position between it and our arkships. The Kenric arkship has taken heavy damage. It is just a matter of time. The Melrakki and the Ormr are preparing their boarding rams.’

  ‘What about the Gargan?’

  The officer checked his console. ‘Station-keeping, standing ready to assist.’

  ‘Why are they not firing on the Vengeance?’

  ‘They did not want to damage the Fenrir.’

  ‘There is plenty of Vengeance to go around. Tell them to focus on the part of the arkship furthest from us. In the meantime, withdraw any troops from the damaged sections. As soon as the fallorite cascade is contained we are leaving.’

  MIGRATION

  Bara fell against the wall, sliding down it as the arkship listed. Derward rested beside her, helping her to her feet. As she stood, she glanced behind him, at the hundreds of destitute figures that shambled along the corridor.

  ‘We’ll never get them all out of here,’ Bara whispered.

  Derward looked at the Draig refugees. ‘Yes, we can.’ He stepped in front of her, leading the way through the Fenrir’s ruined levels. Ahead, was the makeshift ramp that led to the Vengeance. Around it was an umbilical net, keeping the atmosphere intact.

  ‘Almost home,’ Derward said with a relieved smile.

  A platoon of soldiers appeared at the top of the ramp, their weapons raised.

  ‘Lower your guns,’ Bara shouted. ‘Thes
e people are with us.’

  The dazed migrants followed Derward up the ramp, into the Vengeance. Bara stayed at the bottom, counting almost two hundred people over the threshold, all disheveled and gaunt. The throng became a trickle, until the last of the evacuees was up the ramp. She took one last look along the corridor, checking she hadn’t missed anyone, then turned towards the Vengeance.

  ‘Wait!’ a voice cried out.

  As Bara put her foot on the ramp, she turned back to see three more refugees running towards her. As she watched, the Fenrir tilted again, throwing her to the ground. The umbilical net twisted and stretched, snagging against the torn decks, and Bara felt the familiar sensation of decompression. The air was leaking out through a crack in the umbilical material.

  ‘Quickly!’ she shouted, but her voice barely carried over the swirling air.

  As the breeze increased she ran up the ramp, waving for them to join her. She felt hands pulling her up, dragging her into the Vengeance. At the same moment, the umbilical net tore open, and the Fenrir shifted position again.

  Derward pulled Bara through a hatch which slammed shut behind her. The rush of air stopped, and the noise ceased. All that remained was her own breathing. That, and the image of the three people. It had been a family; two parents and a young boy. She knew they must be dead, but she desperately wanted to open the door and save them. Instead, she shut the image away. There would be time to grieve later, she hoped.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Derward asked.

  Bara ignored his inquiry and stood up. Calming her breathing, she began to lead the survivors towards the cargo bay.

  COMMUNICATION

  Wynn must have passed out, he presumed. He could barely remember their retreat from the Fenrir, and he didn’t know when his wound had been treated. Everything was just a series of adrenaline-fueled frozen instances that led to the flight deck of the arkship Vengeance. But there were some things he could never forget: Orcades killing Tanis. The feeling of his sword tearing into Wynn. The floor shifting, and Orcades hanging on the edge. Nightmare images that haunted his eyes.

 

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