by Dante King
One more forward roll brought me within arm’s reach of the huge vehicle. I thrust Ebon into its hull, just under the hatch Skald had stuck his ugly head from and buried my sword to the hilt. I gave the blade a twist and yanked it free.
Heat punched outward like a fist. I was knocked back by the shockwave of its thrusters bursting to life. The smaller hovercrafts opened fire to defend their leader, peppering the ground at my feet. Their particle canons weren’t as powerful as the tank’s, but dead was dead, and I was busy blocking the lucky ones that might actually hit me. Ebon gobbled them up greedily.
All this for a single alien woman? Who the hell was she? Or had the description Skald had received of me warranted this kind of response? Hell, I was practically indestructible and now had a sword that was equally impervious to harm, so Skald probably thought me a prime threat.
I charged the hovercraft that was firing at me. Running toward the machine gave me less time to block its attacks, but the task became easier and easier when I focused. It wasn’t only my legs that were faster but my ability to make decisions or anticipate attacks.
I heard the hovercraft’s pilot jam power to the machine’s thrusters in an attempt to move out of reach, but he didn’t understand how long my reach was. A few steps later, I planted my right foot and jumped into the air, almost overshooting the hovercraft, but I caught its canopy with my empty hand, planted myself on its back, and ripped the canopy free.
The pilot, another weasel-like alien, looked up at me and squeaked. I yanked him from the cockpit and tossed him overboard. Gravity would do the rest.
Three loud cracks told me the other hovercrafts were moving into position to attack me. A moment later, a loud buzzing, followed by the snap of electricity, warned me that a circuit had fried. Less than a second after that, the hovercraft lurched forward like a missile, and I held on tight.
The wind ripped tears from my eyes and threatened to tear my clothing from my body. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and I almost whooped as I leaned back, held up a hand, and saw the world begin to rotate.
I could steer the runaway machine.
The pilots of the other three hovercraft tried to perform the same maneuver, but they couldn’t keep up. My attention was drawn to the sound of a cannon firing, and I looked over my shoulder to see Skald firing the tank’s weapon at nearby buildings in the town.
The High Lord was a lunatic. This was his own town. What did he hope to achieve?
I caught two lucky shots on Ebon and turned the hovercraft in a slow, lumbering arc toward my pursuers. They separated and started peppering my new toy with high-energy bolts. A moment later, the thrusters went silent, so I picked a new target, waited two seconds, and jumped.
The pilot’s eyes bulged from within the lenses of his goggles. The weasel’s mouth swung open, and he pointed a finger at me as if he was trying to show someone else what I was doing. I spun Ebon in my hand and split the weasel’s expression in two.
The last two hovercraft had drastically increased their distance and were taking the occasional shot at me. They were too far away to be accurate, though, so I turned my attention back to the tank. Skald’s vehicle was driving through the middle of the town, knocking over buildings and starting small fires with its cannon.
I leaned forward to bring the nose of the hovercraft down, but the craft’s computer protested and kept it upright. I leaned forward again and shoved the nose down a couple of times, but it continued to fight against me. If I was on the ground, I could have picked the thing up and thrown it against my target. Instead, I raised Ebon and yanked the craft’s nose back. When the computer compensated, I thrust the vehicle down and jabbed my sword through some important-looking controls in the cockpit. The thrusters died.
I’d turned the thing into a ballistic weapon of opportunity heading right toward the tank.
Skald must have noticed because his tank opened fire. The first few shots went wide. I started looking for my escape route. Even as strong as I was, I didn’t want to test whether I would survive an unprotected crash.
The two hovercrafts pursuing the vehicles I’d commandeered fired at me. I blocked three well-aimed shots with Ebon while still hanging onto my craft. One hovercraft managed to reach my vehicle, but all he’d done was bring himself closer to me.
I launched myself from the dead hovercraft toward his vehicle. The pilot tried to dodge at the last moment, but I was too close. I snagged the machine with my hand and cut it in half just behind the cockpit. The thrusters and engine spun off and away about a hundred yards out of the edge of the street before exploding in a huge ball of fire.
The pilot screeched like a trapped animal, which wasn’t far from reality, as he pressed buttons and twisted knobs, trying to get the rear of the hovercraft to respond. I waited until the last moment before launching myself into the air, effectively slowing my descent. I barely had to bend my knees and only kicked up a little dust when I landed.
The pilot didn’t fare as well. He screamed as his hulk smashed into a stall and spun out onto the street in a spray of fuel and misfiring thrusters. I turned my attention to my main target.
The battle tank.
Skald was blasting everything he could, anyway. As the tank peppered one building after another with plasma, I winced, wondering how many might be dead inside.
Enough was enough.
I charged, but before I reached the tank, the turret swiveled around and started firing at me. The amount of plasma directed at me would have torn me to pieces had I not been armed with my sword. The shots must have been computer-controlled to be as accurate as they were. One went for my head. The next was aimed at my left foot. Then, my right shoulder, then my left foot. Deflecting each with Ebon was slowing me down, which was probably the idea.
The tank turned toward me and accelerated. Skald had enough brains to figure that his particle cannon wasn’t working on me; now, he just wanted to crush me with the weight of his vehicle.
I had an idea. Something that would really test my new abilities.
Before the tank could crash into me, I jumped into the air, performed a slow backflip, looked up, and dragged Ebon through the hard armor all the way to the hilt.
I hit the ground, rolled, and hopped back to my feet, ready to block more incoming fire should it arrive. But the tank was ablaze, and sparks erupted from the long gash.
“Eat it!” Skrew howled as he emerged from his hiding place in the stall.
He continued his absurd dance routine but stopped when the tank’s entire top portion blew off. A smaller hovercraft ascended from the wreckage, Skald inside the cockpit.
“Is this an alien version of a clown car?” I muttered.
Chapter Twenty
Skald’s craft released itself from the tank and raced away from the street.
“Skrew is safe!” My vrak guide bounced on his feet. “Jacob is safe! We’re all safe!”
I’d seen enough battles to know this was nothing more than a tactical retreat, and the sound of thrusters announced the arrival of reinforcements.
I’d already taken out a hovercraft unit. Hadn’t Skald had enough yet?
Two unusual vehicles were visible in the sky just outside Madomar.
Instead of the low thrum of antigrav thrusters, the sound accompanying the two craft was more of a low roar. Rather than a low cloud of dust being kicked up around their bases, they appeared to float on a roiling cloud of fire.
They looked like discarded military surplus, but could have just as easily been repurposed mining equipment. The vehicles seemed rugged and primitive with their flat armored plates welded together at odd angles. The Federation had similar vessels designed to either bring troops into hostile areas under heavy fire, transport dangerous people, or delve into windy and rock-filled atmospheres in search of precious minerals.
Odd shapes seemed to be attached at weird angles to the outside of their hulls. Although they were still too far away for me to see them clearly, and still more tha
n a hundred yards off the ground, I suspected they were weapons pods.
Skald’s craft circled the area, too far away to provide any kind of effective support, but he was probably close enough to watch.
The flame-spewing transports decreased their altitude as they approached, and I realized their purpose. They would raze the city by burning it to the ground. Skald really did have a scorched earth policy. He must have believed Yaltu was here, and he was willing to destroy a small trading hub just to kill her.
Who the fuck was Yaltu?
I couldn’t allow this town to go up in flames or for my new friends to die, so I sprinted down the road. I circled around Skald’s hovercraft while he watched from above and continued until I was outside the town. The reinforcements were descending toward me, and Skald had left the town to pursue me. I realized they were no longer interested in Yaltu. I’d won their attention.
I heard a new noise and noticed a tiny black dot in the distance.
A rocket.
I stepped to one side, and the rocket changed course. I stepped in the other direction, and it adjusted to follow me again. I didn’t think Ebon could absorb the shockwave of an explosion. And if I dodged the rocket, it might continue into the town. I cared a little about the innocents inside Madomar, and I cared even more about my new friends. I needed to make sure that they didn’t get crushed by a falling building or shrapnel.
The next thing I did was probably the most outrageous action of my life. But I was trusting that the Lakunae had really made me into something entirely different from any other being in the universe.
I ran straight at the incoming rocket.
Time seemed to slow again, but I knew it was only the dilation caused by how fast I’d become. I watched the rocket curve to meet me and saw that it couldn’t turn as fast as I could run.
The Federation had stopped using solid-fuel rockets more than a century ago, but our missiles were advanced. If one lost track of a target, it would automatically search for a new one. I didn’t know if these alien rockets were the same, but I couldn’t risk it, so I slowed down to allow the device to reacquire me as a target.
It worked, though I wasn’t certain how wise it was. My training told me to one, seek cover, which I had; two, to deploy electronic counter-measures, which I didn’t have; and three, to return fire, which I also didn’t have… exactly.
I waited until the last moment before diving between a couple of trees. The explosion was ear-shattering, and I was peppered with rocks, bits of trees, and other debris. Some of it got in my way but not badly enough to take me out of the fight. The experience was enlightening. I had a better understanding of my enemy and a grudging appreciation for his tech.
I turned and quickly searched the sky for more rockets, but the crafts appeared to have lost interest in me and were heading back toward the town. I looked around for anything I could throw at the ships to regain their attention. There were no boulders big enough to be effective. There was nothing heavy enough to make a dent in their armored hulls… except for the trees.
I wrapped my arms around a giant tree and ripped it from the ground. I imagined what I must have looked like, and the thought almost made me laugh. A human carrying a tree that was easily 20 yards taller than himself in one arm like it was a javelin. From their height, the pilots probably wouldn’t see much more than the tree itself snaking its way through the forest.
They must not have seen it heading for them though, because when I threw the giant log as hard as I could, I put a little spin on it and hit both craft, sending them arcing away in separate directions. The craft on the right continued its long arc while the one on the left stopped in place and rotated to search for me. Both fired a rocket at the same time.
I sheathed Ebon and waited. I’d need both hands free for what was coming next. If the rockets were like the ones the Federation used to use, they wouldn’t explode until they impacted with their target. If they were like the ones we’d used more recently, they’d explode when they were close enough to get the job done.
The rocket on the right was a little closer, so I started strafing to the left, trying to get them as evenly spaced as possible. I took two small steps to my right. A moment later, I spun my body hard to the left, turning on my right foot. As I did so, I caught the small rockets in my hands, continued my spin, and threw them away as hard as I could.
Each shot toward its target at twice the speed they had been fired at me. Neither pilot had a chance to dodge. Two dull explosions told me I’d hit them both. The continued roar of their engines told me a single rocket wouldn’t be enough.
“Surrender, human!” Skald demanded over an external speaker as he circled above.
I gave the weasel a gesture I wasn’t sure would translate across the millions of light years that must have separated us less than a month ago. Maybe it didn’t, but the weasel’s reaction wasn’t completely unexpected. He turned his small craft to the town and opened fire with his small particle weapon.
It was time to open the tin cans and teach the pilots inside a lesson.
I glanced around, mentally measured the nearby trees, and selected one that looked like it would do the job. Instead of being big enough to throw, it simply needed to be tall enough to get me to the first craft. From there, I could have some fun.
I selected a tree about half the size of the last one I’d pulled from the ground and yanked it up. I watched the hovercraft creep toward the edge of the town as it set the tops of the trees on fire. I ran the entire length of the uprooted log through my hands, breaking and ripping the branches off as I did. A few seconds later, I hoisted it onto my shoulder and ran toward the danger, just as I’d been trained to do.
I’d been an athlete most of my life, though when I’d joined the Federation Marine Corps, my activities shifted from recreational to practical. But I was sure I still remembered how to do what I was going to attempt next.
I almost forgot how fast I could run and had to throw the top of the tree into the ground hard so that I wouldn’t overshoot my target. As soon as it made contact and buried itself into the soft dirt, I held on and allowed the momentum to carry me forward and up in a sweeping arc.
Once my feet left the ground, I let my legs dangle behind me and began climbing the tree with just my hands. I grabbed great handfuls of the smooth bark and sank my fingers deep into the green wood while I watched my target closing in on the town. If the vehicle had changed course, I would have had to think of something quick. But the pilot felt safe and secure in his flying fortress and kept heading straight for the town.
A second later, I reached the top of the tree and held on, waiting for the log to get vertical. When it did, I jumped, soaring through the air toward the vehicle. I was dismayed to hear screaming and shouting from the village. The other craft had reached the town and had already set a group of buildings ablaze. They looked like small warehouses, but they could have just as easily been a collection of homes.
I landed on the craft hard and began to slide. I scrabbled for anything to hold as I slid across the nearly flat and featureless surface. If I slipped too far, I might have been able to grab the edge of the craft, but that would have put me uncomfortably close to the fiery thrusters.
Instead, I drew Ebon, jammed the blade into the vehicle’s hull, and turned the edge sideways in my hand so that I wouldn’t fall. My black blade found something, dug into it, and I was jerked to a stop.
When I pulled myself to my knees, I managed to push the blade in a little further. The craft responded instantly by losing power. We were headed down, which was fine, but there was still another craft and Skald to deal with. If I could, I needed to adjust my trajectory and give the same treatment to the leader and his wingman. I pulled Ebon out a little, and power returned.
Next, I needed to find the pilot and convince him, her, or it to do something that would likely result in its own destruction. I knew it was a long-shot, but I also knew I could be very convincing when I wanted to be.
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I scanned the top of the craft, looking for anything resembling a cockpit or entrance hatch. There was nothing. Either the pilot entered the machine through the bottom, which was unlikely due to all the thrusters and no way to escape in an emergency, or it had been sealed in. The thought was horrifying, but I could think of no other option. Maybe my temporary ride was a drone?
Generally, the cockpit was located along the centerline of small vessels, but it could be anywhere along the line, so I started in the middle. I jabbed the hull with Ebon, twisted the blade, and pulled it free. The armor was about three inches thick, so I used that measurement as a guide as I proceeded to slice a yard-wide hole into the top. I bent one corner of the plate I’d cut free and used my hands to pry it open.
A mass of wires and sparking panels confirmed my suspicions that this vehicle was a drone.
The other craft was flying a good distance away from the one I’d commandeered, so I couldn’t leap onto it. A ball of plasma struck the hull a few inches from where I was hanging on. Skald had spotted me and had started taking shots. He was still too far away to be effective, but he’d get more accurate if he drew nearer. I growled, sliced a big portion of the ripped-away hull free, and threw it at his craft like a frisbee. The lucky bastard dodged it but accidently sent himself out of control. He crashed into several nearby trees.
I turned my attention back to the two big craft and decided to put my education to the test. I sheathed Ebon, dropped to my knees, and quickly tried to make sense of the alien circuitry of the computer. Some of the pieces seemed familiar, and with a bit of experimentation, I learned the basics of the rest. I knew enough to save the town. What I didn’t know was if I’d have enough time.
The unmanned hovercraft effortlessly took me over the road and back toward the edges of Madomar. Skald was out of action, at least for the moment. My priority was the flame-throwing hovercraft.
I pulled a wire free, stripped its insulation with my teeth, and tried to ignore the electrifying sensation that shot through my tooth into my right eye and out my right foot. I figured I’d just been electrocuted, but I hardly felt anything except a slight tingle. I ripped out another wire and touched the two together. The craft I was riding made a hard right turn. When I removed the wires from each other, it returned to its course, closer to its twin, but not close enough.