by J Hawk
The wind swept past him as he tore through the desert terrain. At speeds unimaginable to normal men. The scenery around him rushed backwards, flashing past in a groggy blur.
The rough land hampered his progress: craters and miniature hills came by his path, forcing his speed to falter as he ran along the unleveled terrain. But Ion’s razor sharp senses attuned themselves to the nature of his surroundings, giving him the split second’s notice he needed to jump over a hill, or dive down a depression on the ground ahead of him.
Every few minutes, he would lower his speed and draw out the compass the village headman had given him. Checking to ensure that he hadn’t wavered from the right path.
Twenty miles northeast…
Ion continued sweeping across the land at a brutal speed for a few minutes, before he found himself approach what looked like a village greatly similar to the earlier one. He calculated that he must have covered half the distance or more.
A slight fatigue sapped at his resolve: The unbroken cross country sprint across the land left him slightly weary. Deciding for a brief halt at the village, he broke his speed steadily, and came to a trot.
The village was doused in silence, with the only sounds coming from the clinking of vessels in a house or two. All no larger than one storey, the small brick structures were spread out evenly over the smoothened terrain. The houses had straw roofs covering them, with large windows almost half the size of the door.
Ion walked past one of them, watching as an old man with a flowing white beard stared at him from the window. He smiled at the old man, partly to convey the message that he wasn’t bringing any trouble. But the man continued to stare at him.
Gosh, this lonely place doesn’t have a lot of visitors does it?
Walking by, Ion wondered if he could find a place for refreshments somewhere nearby. He walked past a slightly larger hut, where nobody was visible through the window. Most of the hut like buildings were houses, and mild chatter could be discerned from within a few of them.
Meanwhile, the old man with the flowing beard who had just stared at Ion looked downward, at the Naxim officer lying hidden on the ground beside his feet.
“I think that was him.”
“Did someone just walk past?” The officer asked in a whisper. “Was it a boy with messy red hair?”
The old man nodded rigidly. “Yes. And he just went right by.”
The officer snatched a Sparkler that lay by the side of the ground, drew himself up, and spoke into a z-com held in his other hand:
“All units, maintain position. The target is within vicinity. I repeat. Maintain position. Stay where you are.”
Gowden turned back, peering through the dark house. A large group of Rash-cons lurked by the walls within the old man’s house. The old man they had interrupted for this operation, seeking cover in his house, had changed his mind about helping them when he learned that the target they were after was a mystic.
Gowden repeated the order, speaking with the z-com held close to his mouth. The boy had no idea what he had just wandered into: Awaiting him, hiding inside of every house in this village, was a team of Rash-cons. And the poor mystic was carefreely strolling past the houses he saw here, without a clue of what awaited him. When Gowden gave the order, they would all leap out and take him by surprise. He didn’t stand a chance.
Gowden stealthily walked out of the house, scanning the vicinity beyond. He found the boy at the far end of this line of houses, disappearing into a restaurant that came by the right.
Smiling, Gowden spoke into his z-com in a clear whisper. “All units, fall out in my command. The mystic’s entered a restaurant. We have him cornered. And we’re takin him down.”
__________
The large restaurant had four lines of neatly laid tables, all of which were empty. Ion took a seat in the middle of the large hall.
The only other person here was the waiter, who shuffled over to Ion’s table upon seeing him enter.
“I’ll have a coffee.” Ion told the waiter.
The waiter gave a nod and strode off, disappearing behind the counter.
Ion sat straight and closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to relax physically. He brought his attention to his inner world, so that the world outside of him faded slowly…
He grew aware of an unsettled turbulence in his own thoughts … his mind throbbed with fear and anxiety.
He inhaled slowly, feeling the cool night air stream into his lungs. He held his breath for three counts, and then exhaled as slowly as he could. He continued this process a few more times, holding his breath longer each time. His mind shut itself from the outside world, growing calmer with every breath count.
Slowly, the inner rumbling slowly died down, replaced by an unrippled silence.
Nothing to worry about at all. He convinced himself, as his anxieties quietened. I’m as safe as could be, right now.
With one final breath, he slowly opened his eyes.
Surrounding him, all of them aiming their black Sparklers at him, stood a giant cluster of Rash- cons. The robots were spread all over the room, looking ready to pounce upon him at a moment’s call. And sitting opposite to him on the table, an easy smile on his face, was a man with a Naxim badge stuck to his chest.
“Your move, mystic?” said officer Gowden, tapping his Sparkler on the table.
5
Ion’s gaze slowly roamed over the entire room, before coming back to the Naxim officer seated opposite to him on the table. The robots surrounding him, standing spread over the room, numbered to more than fifteen.
Four of them stood by either side of the Naxim officer sitting opposite to him. The waiter stood nervously at the back of the hall, watching with widened eyes.
“You seemed a little too engrossed to even notice us entering into the room.” said the Naxim officer. “So we decided against disrupting you. Hope you enjoyed your breathing…” He picked up his Sparkler from the table. “because it’s gonna be your last.”
Ion held his eyes with the officer, feeling no fear through the restored glow of his inner calm.
“Now, any last words?” said the Naxim officer, holding his Sparkler at dead aim with Ion’s chest.
“Just not yet.” replied Ion. Without warning, he threw both hands forward, and a heat wave like disturbance erupted in the air in front. Known as a smash, this was one of the most common mystical fighting devices. It was pure energy released into the outer world, meant to send a heavy, smashing impact upon its target, hence the name. The Naxim officer, his table, and the four robots around him were tossed back as though hit by a crane. The room was filled with flying entities for a frozen split second. A dozen heavy thuds came as the robots and the officer crashed over the tables spread over the room, and the wall behind them.
Before the Rash-cons behind him could react, Ion was airborne: he leapt backwards gracefully, one free hand reaching for his sword. He had drawn the blade before he landed amidst the pack of dozen robots behind him, who turned to re focus their aims. Ion sent one fleeting thought to his sword, and the next second it responded: it was ablaze, shining in bright orange.
Before the Rash-cons begun firing, Ion leapt forward, slashing three of them to the ground before they’d even registered the motion. Then, without turning, he sent three swift swipes of his sword to his right, and then his left. The seven robots on either side of him hit the floor, chopped up and lifeless.
As the remaining five robots opened fire, Ion spun the sword at a violent speed, blocking all the jets of blue sent at him. The dazzling orange glow of his blade seemed to leave an unfaded imprint on the air before him.
Ion then took a step forward, and sent his sword through the entire batch in two swift slashes. The five sliced bodies of the robots clattered to the ground.
Another tirade of blue shots came from his right: the Naxim officer and his fallen robots were storming towards him from the other end of the hall, all their guns blazing. Ion
leapt out of the way of the shots, taking a second’s cover behind one of the tables. One of the jets of blue hit the table, which shattered and flew, spewing splinters over the air.
He scrambled over behind the nearing table, just missing one of the shots. As the officer and the four Rash-cons came dashing at him, Ion hurled a nearing chair at them. The group stopped and jumped out of the way of the flying chair, which smashed into one of the robots too slow to leap off the way.
Ion heaved the table ahead of him with inhuman swiftness, and sent it flying over the robots and the officer. This time all of them were too slow to move, and the table landed over them with a loud crash, and an audible groan from the officer.
Ion scrambled to his feet and bolted to the door of the restaurant. Kicking the door open, he emerged onto the village’s street. But his heart stopped for the meanest moment: The street outside was filled with an even larger force of Rash-cons. Four small one-man fighter ships hovered over the air in front of him, their canons aimed at him. The robots inside the fighters’ cockpits held their guns ready as well. Two hover bikes floated a few feet by his right, with Sparkler wielding Naxim officers over them.
At least fifty pairs of guns lay aimed at Ion.
They’ve brought an entire army…
Ion fought off the wave of dread that came rushing up within him. For a breathless moment, he slowly scanned the entire scene before him.
Then, without warning, every gun in the street erupted, spraying him with jets of light and canon bolts.
Ion channeled his mind’s energy with brutal focus … And a shimmering, glass like surface formed in the air ahead of him. The shield took the impact of the enemy fire flooding him from all around, and Ion felt it weaken rapidly. There weren’t a lot of choices: Severing his mind’s energy flow, he let the shield die, and launched himself to the right at the two Naxim officers on hover bikes. The first officer was thrown off the bike as the weight of Ion’s body collided with him. The second officer fell off his bike, groaning in pain as Ion’s elbow rammed into his skull, hard.
Without waiting another second, as the Rash-cons ran at him, and the fighter ships swooped over towards him, Ion jumped onto one of the hover bikes, took control, rose a few feet from the ground and then shot off into the dark village.
__________
Officer Gowden cursed to himself at what he’d just seen, as he ran outside the restaurant.
You aren’t getting away that easily, scum!
He ran over towards the fallen hover bike ride. Shoving the man off the way, he took hold of the bike and rose off the ground.
“You four,” he called to the four fighter ships floating behind him. “follow me.”
The bike zoomed forward as he spun the throttle, and the four fighter ships came tailing him closeby from behind. The boy was riding far ahead of him, his outline growing slightly blurry as the distance between them grew.
Relishing the feeling of the wind splashing against his face, Gowden gave the bike as much throttle as possible, and his bike slowly crawled closer to the mystic’s. Twenty feet below him, the village’s stout structures zipped backwards rapidly. The boy’s engine grew clear as he steadily approached him from behind.
The four fighter ships behind him edged closer to him from both sides, their canon ready to rage.
Now less than ten feet from the boy, Gowden drew his Sparkler with one hand, and aimed.
__________
Ion’s bike gave a sudden, shuddering jolt, and then begin to lose height.
A bright blue jet of light whizzed past his side, and he whipped his head back to see the Naxim officer along with four fighter jets, a few feet behind him. One of their shots had apparently hit his bike.
He bent over its side, only to have a spurt of black oil released onto his face and his hair. The bike was damaged badly, and was losing height and speed fast. He wiped the black oil off his eyes and turned to his side: The Naxim officer’s bike sped forth beside him, and the man raised a z-com towards Ion. A flash of light emitted.
Taking my picture, huh? Enjoy it. Ion thought. That’s all you’re getting of me.
With his bike hit, soaring lower and slower, Ion breathed in, bracing himself. As the Naxim officer reached for his Sparkler, Ion turned and dived towards his bike. For a splintered second, the man’s eyes widened as Ion came flying over towards him elegantly, and he raised his Sparkler to re fix his aim over skyborne Ion…
But before he pulled the trigger, Ion had crashed to the side of his bike, clinging to it so not to fall off. The impact made the officer lose balance: sliding off his seat with one hand gripping the side, the man dangled dangerously off the side of the bike.
Ion climbed over, waiting as the bike passed a large horse shed before knocking the Naxim officer off the bike, and sending him to a safe landing on one of the giant heaps of hay.
Two orbs of red came sailing from behind him, just missing him. Ion glanced back as the bike sped on. The fighter ships stuck to his tail, firing at him relentlessly. One of the bright red canon bolts whizzed just over his head. Ion used his powers, summoning the familiar rush of energy from within, to make one of the ships steer off course: It clashed into its neighbour, so that both of them lost control and toppled to the ground.
The remaining two ships slid forward by either side of his bike. Ion saw the Rash-con driving the fighter to his right open the ship’s window to aim a gun at him. Ion lifted his bike just in time from the line of shot: the jet of blue that the robot released missed him and hit the fighter on his left instead, shattering its side. The fighter’s cockpit along with the robot driving it within set on fire, the ship slipped off the air … landing on the village street below with a resounding crash.
As the Rash-con took aim at him again through the fighter’s window, Ion drew his sword. The familiar dazzling flash lit the sky for a moment as he ignited it. The blade’s orange shine reflected on the fighter ship’s flawless metallic skin. As the Rash-con opened fire, Ion split his attention so as to drive the bike and block the robot’s shots at the same time.
The two of them swept over the chilly night sky, fighting. Twenty feet below, the rural sprawl of the village was coming to an end. The familiar barren terrain, unblemished by buildings or structures, spread forth beyond.
Time to end this…
Ion steered his bike closer to the fighter ship, blocking one final shot, and then sending his blazing sword in a neat, horizontal slice through the fighter’s body. The ship glided on in an unbroken inertial flow for one fragmented second. And then, tearing apart in two worthless, metallic chunks, it tumbled to the ground, spewing smithereens over the village’s houses as it crashed.
Ion slowed down, landing a hundred metres away from the village on the earth’s unleveled floor. Dismounting his bike, he doused his sword and slid it back into its sheath. His chest rose and fell as he stood by the side of the bike, panting for a few seconds. Glancing back at the village, he saw nothing. No more of the Naxim’s forces pursuing him. Not yet, that was.
Wiping the grease coating his face, he stood there for a second, feeling one thought blare above all else within him:
How the hell did they find me?
The Naxim seemed to have known exactly where to find him, right in the middle of nowhere. He felt an initial spell of panic that made him wonder if there was some unseen aspect of this planet which could detect and monitor mystics. But he calmed himself and carefully ran over everything he had done since exiting Grando’s base. He had kept moving all along, without sticking around anywhere. He hadn’t even made contact with a civilian here, had he?
Wait a second…
He frowned. A rising sense of suspicion crept up inside of him. Digging his hand into his pocket, he drew out the compass, staring at it deeply. He shook the compass, holding it close to his ear.
Seems slightly heavier than a normal compass should be…
Using his powers, he dismantled the pieces of the
compass, making them float in the air before him. And then a growl broke from his throat.
This isn’t a compass, this is a tracker! He thought, infuriated. So that’s how this happened. The village headman I talked to sold me out!
He channeled his anger out of him in a focused, gushing stream, and the compass disguised tracker’s dismantled pieces caught fire in mid air, and then fell to the ground in ashes.
For a moment Ion wondered how Novio had found him to be a mystic. But he cast the doubt out, knowing he had a more pressing issue to tend to.
He took a moment to gather himself and analyse the options available to him now. He looked sideways at his bike, and felt a sliver of smug joy. Dangerous and near fatal as it might have been, his meeting with the Naxim had rendered him something useful after all: a vehicle. There was no longer the need to travel to that hangar, to leave this planet using public transport.
But Ion frowned at the bike, sensing the hindrance in this plan.
If he wanted to use the bike for space transport, there was something he needed for it.