The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  “Why do you make that sound?” it asked.

  “Because I am content”, replied the Shadowman.

  For a moment or two the Orb thought this over, then it spoke again, “destroying one of my workers brings contentment to you?” it asked again.

  To this the Darkman laughed once more, “of course, you are the God of war do you not feel joy at destroying your enemies?”

  The Orb did not reply and there were no more words between the great mind and the metal man, but it did listen to him laugh once again.

  It was near Sunfall when Valen spotted the wagons of his tribe, he had ridden hard and fast and left the Iron God behind him, but he knew that soon the monster would drink its fill and continue on the path that he had just finished. Now from a small hilltop he looked down on the Caladon camp, he could see the Holy Wagon of the High Priestess surrounded by her Thungodra warriors, and near that was the tent of the King. In the failing light he could just make out the Spikebacks and their long-range weapons, but there were no disrupters for they had been destroyed in the war with the Talsonar. And along with the warriors he could see the camp fires of the Elders and he knew that with them would be the children of his tribe.

  I cannot let them perish he thought I must try and save them.

  But that was not an easy thing to do for he was an Outcast, and any member of his tribe was bound by the law to kill him on site. But as he looked at the Washa fires and heard the faint singing from the Elders he knew he had to try.

  So saying a little prayer to Isarie he rode down from his mound and towards the people who had exiled him.

  In the camp of the Caladon all was contentment for they had killed many Rimar and the smelled of freshly baked Kasha bread fill the air. Around the tent of the King were numerous warriors who laughed and lifted their drinking horns in praise of their King, for he had led them with wisdom and courage.

  “HAIL TOBAR!” they shouted joyously.

  Tobar was a short man by Nomad standards but he was broad across the shoulders and thick armed, he had an open face and on his left cheek he bore the three marks that all Kings of the Outlands had. Tobar was known for being a strong drinker and a brave warrior and an above all a man who loved a good story. It was also said that his mate had a voice that could bend steel, so the King spent most of his time away from his tent. But on this night the Queen was in the shelter of her mother and that left plenty of time for Tobar to drink and laugh and tell one of his many past deeds. Now he began a story that he had told a thousand times before but no one dared complain.

  “I was only a young lad of three cycles when I was attacked by ten Hagars from the north, my Whiptail had frozen to death and I was left on my own”. The number of Hagars grew larger as the King grew older, but it was still a good story and one that the warriors loved to hear. “I killed two of them with the first swing of my ax but then the rest of them set upon me like Sagar cats. So I pulled out my dragons tooth and drove it so hard into one of them it came out his back and into another of his kind!”

  To this the warriors gave out a laugh, but the King continued his tale, “it was then that I picked up one of the icemen in my bare hands and broke him in two, then I seized another by his neck and--.”

  But before he could continue his dubious story a young warrior rushed into the light of the campfire.

  “Forgive me my King, but Valen the Outcast draws near,” he said breathing hard.

  Tobar rose to his feet and looked at his warriors, “gather your weapons and follow me”.

  They did as the leader commanded and taking up their war-axes they followed the King as he ran to his Whiptail.

  The twin suns were disappearing as Valen approached his tribe, he did not pray but he gripped his ax hard in his hand. He knew that he was breaking a strong law of the Outlands but his desire to save his people outweighed his own safety, so gathering up his courage he rode forward.

  As he drew up over a small rise he saw a group of warriors riding fast towards him, he could see that Tobar was leading them and from the speed of their Whiptails he knew they were eager to meet. He rode to them for a moment more then stopped his mount near a large rock and waited.

  Tobar is still a swift rider, he thought.

  It only took a short time before he could see the hate in the eyes of the King, but rather than lift his weapon in defense he left it at his side. Now there was nothing to do but wait and hope that this gesture might keep him alive until he could tell of the danger that would soon come for them all.

  Tobar screamed out a war cry of his people and raised his weapon so that he might strike the first blow. But as he grew nearer the Outcast he saw that he had dropped his weapon and not being a man who took contentment in killing a defenseless opponent he lowered his ax and called out to his warriors to do the same. There was a great cloud of dust and when it settled the King looked into the eyes of the warrior he had cast out.

  “Why do you return to your death?” he asked the young man.

  “I have come to warn you”, he replied.

  Tobar drew nearer the Outcast holding his weapon at the ready, “and what danger should I fear?” he asked.

  “Atos draws near” Valen replied.

  The King continued to look into the eyes of the Outcast warrior and priding himself on being able to know when a man was lying and when he was not he waited for the tell-tail signals on the face. But he saw no such signs, “you will follow us back to camp and there we will unravel this knot of deception”.

  And so Valen rode back to their camp and after his Whiptail, armor and weapons were taken from him he told them of his encounter with the Iron God and the death of Hasgar and his people. He told them how he vowed revenge and the pain when he drew near his enemy. He told them how the God moved without Trofars or sails and how it gathered Eul and water, he told them about the metal servants and the strange man who lived within the body of the God. And lastly he told them about the death of Ashra-Doom and how it used its body to heal itself. He talked long into the night explaining in great detail of the past days and nights and when he was done he waited for the King to speak.

  Tobar and his warriors sat around the campfire and listened closely to the words of the young warrior, and as they did they feasted on succulent Rimar meat and warm Kasha bread and they washed it all down with tankards of well-aged Po. But now it was time for the King to speak so Tobar rose to his feet and lifted his drinking horn.

  “To Valen, and the greatest story I ever heard!” and he began to laugh, and with him all the men and woman surrounding him also laughed. And all the while the young warrior stood alone and his face did not smile.

  They do not believe me Valen thought I cannot blame them for I would do the same if I were listening.

  And when at last the laughter died the King put his hand on Valens shoulder, “I have lived a long time and heard many fantastic tales but yours is the greatest of all”, he said smiling. “I think you have been eating too much Boda, but you refused to bow down to me and therefor I made you an Outcast”.

  “I will bow to you now if that is what you wish?” the young Caladon replied, it would not be an easy thing to do for a warrior asked for no mercy and expected none, but if it meant saving his tribe he would do so.

  But Tobar just laughed, “bow or not you are still an Outcast and by the laws of the Outlands you must die”, and saying this his warriors grabbed the arms of the young warrior and bound them behind his back.

  Valen did not resist or speak as they did this for he knew that without his weapons he would surely die, but as they were taking him away he called back to the Caladon King, “flee this place before it is too late!”

  But Tobar only laughed once more and took another gulp of his sour wine.

  A short distance away the great machine continued on its course, and all creatures that it encountered ran from its path and those who did not were crushed under the heavy treads of the Iron God.

  “All systems functioning
normally”, the Taskrobot reported, “Locomotion capabilities can be maintained for twelve point seven time periods”.

  “Understood”, the Orb replied “continue on course and maintain speed”.

  The Darkman was too busy trying out his new legs to be interested in what his master had to say for he enjoyed the new power that his metal legs now gave him. They had been enhanced with more powerful drive motors and the interconnections to his brain made it possible for them to responds more quickly. But what he liked the most were the two dagger like weapons that now protruded from his feet, they were very sharp and could be withdrawn back into his legs until they were needed. And as a test he suddenly struck out with his left foot and impaled one of the Spotter robots on the steel point, the small Repairbot gave out a shower of sparks and a high pitched screeching. The Shadowman watched it wiggle about for a moment or two then it lay still, he jerked his foot again and the metal creature flew across the chamber until it shattered against one of the bulkheads.

  The half-man half-machine then looked down at his left arm; I must replace this with a better one, he thought. But as he was about to order it done the Taskrobot reported again.

  “Human life forms directly ahead”, it said.

  There was no hesitation from the Orb, “destroy them”.

  Tobar and his warriors continued to drink and laugh for they told and retold the story that they had just listen to and they all agreed that it was the best fable they had ever heard.

  “Did you hear him when he said that an iron beast killed Ashra-doom!” the King said as he drank deep of his wine, “as if a thing so powerful could stand against an Earth Shaker!” and hearing how silly his own words sounded he again began to laugh. But as he was about to lift his drinking horn once more to his lips he felt the ground under him begin to shake.

  At first he told himself that it was only an earth God moving in his sleep, but then the shaking grew more intense and he knew that he was mistaken. Perhaps it is a herd of Rima? But he knew that the great beasts did not travel at night, then the shaking grew more intense and he dropped his drink from his hand.

  “Gather the warriors”, he shouted, “Prepare for battle!”

  The Caladons were strong warriors and their people brave so when war shouts began to fill the air they did not panic, rather they began to do what must be done. First all warriors male and female alike donned their armor and took up their weapons, the Whiptails were saddled and the long-range weapons manned. The Elders gathered up the children and put them into their Karracks and covered them with blankets, and then they began to say prayers to the Goddess for strength and courage. The loyal Thungodra surrounded the Holy wagon of the High Priestess and the Handmaidens shielded their mistress with their bodies.

  And when all this was done Tobar signaled his warriors to gather around him, so under the light of the moons and the stars that looked down on them the tribe of the Caladon waited for whatever fate laid ahead.

  Valen could feel the shaking growing larger and larger with each passing moment, and he knew that the Iron God was coming to destroy his people. But there was little he could do for they had bound him to a wheel of the Kings wagon and no matter how hard he struggled he could not break the thick bonds that held him. Now he had to watch helplessly as the warriors rode into the darkness.

  “Wait!’ he called out, “you cannot defeat Atos, he is to strong!” but they ignored his warning and soon he was left alone with only the campfire and a few Elders to stand guard over him.

  Tobar led his warriors over the shaking ground but in the dim light of the night sky he could only see a dark outline of something huge moving towards him. But that did not stop him from shouting out a battle cry and spurring on his Whiptail, and as he came up over a rise in the ground he could see what was shaking the earth, for it was now silhouetted against the night moon Italus.

  It was true the Tobar had seen many great things; he had fought in the war with the Maringar and watched as ten thousand warriors died in a single day. He was present at the Rownac Dome when it grumbled to the ground, and he had seen the great leviathans of the Western Sea. But never until now had his eyes looked upon such a monster.

  Valen was right, he told his mind, I was a fool for not believing him, but the time for apologies was past and he knew that he must try and save his people so he turned to his warriors and called out in a loud voice. “What we do this night will be told around the campfires till the stars fall from the sky!” and shouting out an ancient war cry he dug in his spurs and led his warriors forward.

  “Enemy approaching” reported the Taskrobot, “their weapons are primitive and our shielding is at maximum”.

  “Understood”, replied the Orb, “destroy them and bring me their heads!”

  Again the Taskrobot wondered why his master would want to acquire their cranial cavities. But there was no times for inquiries for the humans were fast approaching. “Maximum power to all shielding, deploy weapons!” it ordered.

  And the command consoles replied as one, “understood”.

  The Darkman said nothing but he could feel a cold intelligence moving into the corners of his mind, showing him things he could not understand, visions of enemies floating in the vast emptiness of space, and planets bursting apart in holocausts of fire and death. And it made him feel content.

  Tobar continued to shout out cries of death as he neared the great iron beast and although he knew that he was going to die he wanted to strike the first blow. But as his Whiptail galloped over the hard ground he suddenly felt a great pain in his head, he tried to ignore it but with each stride of his mount it became more intense. Then as the image of his enemy grew until it blotted out the stars he felt his weapon fall from his hand and he cried out in pain.

  His Whiptail stumbled and the King was thrown to the ground, he rolled over twice then laid on his wide back. Around him he could hear the shouts of his warriors as they also felt the agony in their minds and one by one they tumbled to the ground and lay they’re screaming in pain. The earth under Tobar began to shake like the pounding from a million Rimar hoofs, it began to crack like an ice sheet in winter and the air filled with a great roaring sound. But the old King was not going to die on his back and summoning up all his remaining strength he managed to rise to his feet and take up his fallen weapon, with his mind breaking from waves of pain he turned to see the Iron God coming near. And now with the last ounce of his life he swung his ax and felt it strike the body of his enemy.

  We do not know exactly how the King died, but it was said that he died laughing.

  Valen could hear the screams of the dying warriors, as did the rest of his tribe, he pulled against the bindings that held him with all his might but they would not break.

  “Free me!” he shouted to an Elder who stood shaking in fear, but the old man did not hear his words and ran off into the darkness. Again he pulled at the thick Rimar skin that bound his hands to the wheel of the wagon but they continued to hold him helpless.

  Then sounded the report of the long-range weapons and he knew that Atos had broken through the warriors and was about to enter the camp of the Caladon.

  “FREE ME!” he called out again but no one came to his aid, he continued to fight then he turned to see the sky fill with fire and smoke.

  “Primary shielding holding at ninety percent,” said the Taskrobot, “secondary shielding is repulsing steel projectiles and there is no damage to outer hull”.

  “Understood” said the Orb, “continue attack, concentrate on projectile weapons”.

  The Darkman suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge to destroy; it seemed to swell up in him until it became an all-encompassing thought.

  Kill them kill them all!

  And thinking this he ran from the chamber and down the long corridor that led to the hatch to the outside, once there he grasped the handle in his hands and turned until it opened. Now he left the protection of his God and entered the battlefield.

  But it was far f
rom a place of glory and honor that the warriors of the Outlands wished to end their lives on, now it was a setting of slaughter and death. The Shadowman looked down from his vantagepoint on the body of the steel monster and watched as the Caladon were destroyed. They lay on the ground and screamed in pain as their minds were torn apart, both the old and the young died for the thing that now attacked them drew no distinction between warrior and the weak. And those that still had strength tried to save those that did not but their efforts were futile and they died under the grinding treads of the huge beast.

  The gigantic claws of Atos came into play, they reached out and took up Nomad wagons and lifted them into the night air like toys, then with a sickening crash they fell to the ground taking those within to their deaths. They reached out again and again and no matter how much the Elders pleaded for mercy the steel monster remained deaf to them.

  And through it all the Darkman laughed.

  “See the power of Atos!” he called out “none can stand before him!”

  Valen continued to struggle until blood flowed from his writs and the muscles of his arms stood out like iron bands.

  “Will no one free me!” he cried, then he too felt the pain in his mind, “no, I will not die like this!” and once more he pulled with all his might, and to his surprise the bonds that held him broke and he was free.

  But it would not matter if he were free or not he was going to die, fire and smoke filled the air mixed with the blasts from the long-range weapons and the steam from the metal giant. The pain in his head was intense but he knew that if he could get far enough away the pain would go away, so with his eyes burred he looked about him, but there was only death and destruction. He could see the Holy Wagon of the High Priestess being torn to pieces while the Tungodra tried to defend it. He watched as two great steel claws reached out and took up the great wooden vehicle and then broke it in two sending the Handmaidens tumbling to their deaths and the Holy Mother to the Afterlife.