Sunset in Silvana (Da'ark Nocturne Book 1)

by Paul Sims

  “It’s still a long journey,” RD pointed out

  “Look here.” Bartes pointed at the map. “The river wanders a bit, but if we could reach this point, just south of Gomsk, we could save at least part of the trek – and who knows? We might find an unmarked tributary which would take us even further.”

  “It would definitely help – if we could fool the Zelynans patrolling the river,” RD said. “We’d have to pass by Tureskow, and according to this permit, we’d have to spend the night tied up there – and we don’t exactly look like Duplifis.”

  “But you could.” Tanya had recovered her composure and re-joined them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most Duplifis have masses of facial hair, like the three men that were crewing this boat, and they all wore shapeless overalls. If I could remove their beards relatively intact – well, I’ve got some surgical adhesive in my medkit…”

  Iain pondered for a moment. “It’s worth a try. I’m sure that RD, Bartes and I could put on a show.”

  Shaving a dead man is not an occupation to be desired, but Tanya coped with it while RD, Bartes and Iain removed the Duplifis’ overalls and put them on.

  Tanya came over to them, gingerly carrying three hunks of something dark and unsavoury. “Here you are. They obviously weren’t terribly keen on personal hygiene, but it made it easier for me to get their beards off in one piece. I’m willing to lay odds that you’re not going to like wearing them, though.”

  RD’s mouth puckered. “Do we have to? They smell. And they could have Things in them.”

  Bartes shrugged. “Come on. A man’s got to wear what a man’s got to wear. Give me that adhesive, Tanya. Is there a mirror around?”

  “Hmm.” Tanya viewed the effect critically when they had finished. “Not bad. But we’ll need to do something about the blood on those overalls. Can you smear some engine grease over it? That’ll do something to camouflage it.”

  They hid their prisoners and the bodies of the crew members in the undergrowth, stowed the weapons aboard, and set out for Tureskow. Joseph and the girls hid below, while Peter sat on the deck, trying to teach the three impostors to speak with Duplifian accents. Iain took to it easily, but neither Bartes nor RD could manage very well, so, by common consent, Iain became the boat’s captain. Once Iain sounded sufficiently convincing, Peter joined the others in hiding.

  It was completely dark by the time they reached Tureskow and tied up at the jetty. “What are you doing here?” a voice demanded.

  “Please, sir,” Iain said in a deeper register than his normal voice, every syllable dripping obsequiousness, “we have permit.”

  There was a grunt, and the voice continued, “You’re supposed to dock before sunset.”

  “So sorry, sir – we have problem with engine.”

  “Humph. Typical Duplifi workmanship. Where are your papers?”

  “Here, sir.” They had retrieved the papers of the dead men. In the dark, with the false beards, Tanya’s team-mates looked enough like the fuzzy pictures on them to pass muster.

  There was a pregnant pause. “You there – is that blood on your overalls?”

  There was a grunt from RD before Iain continued. “Very sorry, sir. Achmed is half-witted. He speak Duplifi bad enough, and could not learn your tongue. Ishmael, too, cannot. See what I have to work with? But they my cousins, so my mother, she insist I employ them.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “As for blood, Achmed cut himself while repairing engine.”

  The guard seemed mollified. “You’ll have to sleep on your boat.”

  “Thank you, sir. We lose much time, so we go early in morning.” Steps receded into the distance, and Iain’s real voice said quietly, “Well, that went well.”

  “Half-witted?” RD hissed indignantly.

  “Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative,” Iain quoted, as he opened the hatch to the compartment.

  “You’ve done something like this before,” Tanya said.

  “I believe that I have,” Iain simpered. “You’d better stay in here for tonight – with the hatch open for extra air. We’ll sleep on deck. If we leave before dawn, we should manage to avoid detection.”

  Those below found it difficult to sleep. They were tired enough, but as the boat moved in response to the river’s flow, it creaked and groaned in a most disturbing fashion.

  “Tanya?” Anoushka’s whisper sounded troubled. “I don’t like it in here.”

  “Nor do I,” Peter added. “It seems almost alive.”

  “Wrong expression,” Tanya said. “There’s death here: death, fear and pain. I can’t be sure exactly what happened, but it must have been really awful to leave such a deep psionic impression.” They huddled together and soon Slimmest joined them, her purring dispelling some of the ghastly presence. Eventually, they slept.

  Tanya opened her eyes. The hold was filled with people. She and her friends were packed in with many others – men, women and children. Some looked at her with dead eyes, others with terror. Some were moaning, others whimpering. Mothers were trying to comfort their children, and families held each other tightly.

  Valentine was kneeling beside her. He didn’t seem angry, or even sad, merely concerned. “Come with me,” he said, helping her to her feet, taking her hand and leading her out of the hold and on to the riverbank, where he indicated that she should look back at the barge. An endless stream of struggling victims was being dragged toward a greasy black spiral on the deck of the boat, following its path inwards before disappearing with wails of despair.

  Valentine turned her to face him. She looked down and away, trying to ignore the awful wound she’d inflicted between his eyes. His voice echoed, hollow, around the hold. “Escape. Escape. Escape, or their fate will be yours.” And as she watched, his face became her own, but filled with agony, her eyes lifeless and her mouth agape...

  ...and she woke.

  She was sweating, curled into a foetal position, and it was all she could do not to scream. Slimmest was rubbing against her and purring. She looked around frantically, and saw Anoushka and Peter gazing at her, eyes wide. The terror slowly ebbed away. Even so, it was some time before she could trust her voice. “I take it that you’ve had b-bad dreams, too?” she asked, somewhat unnecessarily. Her companions both nodded in response. None of them dared to close their eyes again, so they huddled even closer together and waited. It was a relief when dawn arrived.

  Mid-afternoon found them nearing the foothills of the mountain range, and they were lucky enough to find a large tributary which led east. Trees arched out over the water, almost meeting midstream, and they now felt safe enough from observation to emerge from that chamber of horror and breathe clean air.

  RD, Iain & Bartes stripped off their overalls with obvious relief. “How do we remove these beards?” Iain asked. “I don’t mind a bit of hair, but this is like having an animal hanging from my jaw. And it itches.” He scratched vigorously.

  Anoushka’s eyes sparkled. “I could pull it off.”

  Bartes sighed. “Tanya, you must have some alcohol that’ll dissolve this adhesive.”

  “Spoilsport.” Anoushka stuck out her tongue.

  “Here you are.” Tanya passed them a bottle of surgical spirit. “This should do the trick.”

  “Ah, that’s better,” Iain sighed, rubbing his naked and somewhat reddened chin. “I think I’ll shave as well.”

  “I don’t know.” Bartes examined his stubble in the mirror. “A beard might prove useful as a disguise. I think I’ll grow mine out.”

  “Could you make us a drink?” Iain asked Tanya.

  “Why not,” she said. “A little bit of activity might help me shake off this feeling of oppression. I’ll make up a snack, too, if you’d like. Would you give me a hand, ‘Noushka?”

  “I’d love to.”

  The galley was quite well stocked, and, while Anoushka brewed some tea and coffee, Tanya sliced up a cou
ple of loaves of rich, dark bread and made some sandwiches. The team fell on the food with gusto, and wolfed down every crumb with obvious relish. Tanya brought out some oatcakes, and they were devoured in a similar fashion.

  “At least the food isn’t haunted,” Peter said as he picked up and finished the last fragments from his plate.

  “No indeed.” Iain smiled contentedly.

  “There’s plenty more stuff in the galley,” Tanya said. “We’ll soon be leaving this boat behind, so I’ll make up some more sandwiches, and add them and anything else we can carry to our trail rations.”

  She ransacked the galley, looking for foodstuffs they could take with them. At the back of one of the cupboards was an earthenware jar. She pulled it out and examined the contents. Flour, she thought, and it’s nearly empty anyway. She almost discarded it, but something stayed her hand. Hmm… She looked around. Yes, there’s enough molasses… She added some of the treacly substance to the flour, and took the pot out to RD.

  “Can I have a little oil, please?” she asked, “and some petrol?”

  When he saw what she was carrying, his eyes glinted maliciously. “If that’s intended to be what I think it is, we’ve plenty to spare.”

  She half-filled the jar with petrol and oil, and capped it with a piece of rag. Joseph had been watching what she’d been doing and said, “Can we make some more? I’d love to learn how.” In the end, they managed to create three more fire-bombs, which they stashed carefully upright in their packs.

  There was a whisper ahead that gradually increased in volume until, motoring around a bend, they found themselves at the base of a waterfall some fifty feet high. “End of the line,” RD said. “Time to starting walking.”

  “I’ll be glad to be shot of this boat,” Tanya told Bartes as they ferried their packs ashore. “It makes me feel unclean.”

  “I don’t think anyone will disagree,” he replied. “It’s spooked us all, even RD. We’d better sink it to minimise the chance of its being seen from the air.” He and RD knocked holes in both sides of the barge below the waterline, and as it started to fill with water, RD started its engine and aimed it towards the waterfall.

  As they were climbing up beside the cascade, Tanya looked back – and immediately wished that she hadn’t: the boat’s deck was awash, and there, to her horror, was the spiral of her dream. It briefly glowed a sickly green before it sank out of sight.

  They walked and climbed all that night and the following morning with only short breaks. About noon, as they made their way down into a broad valley, Anoushka’s foot slipped and she sat down rather heavily. “I – I can’t go any further…” she said.

  Tanya sat down beside her. “Yes, you can,” she said gently. “We’ll have a short rest, and then I’ll carry your pack for a while.”

  Bartes was gazing forward. “I can see something glinting through the trees,” he said. “Stay here and relax while I scout ahead.”

  Even RD didn’t cavil at this, and they all sank down onto the ground. Joseph eased his shoes off and wiggled his toes with a sigh, and Tanya lay back and let Anoushka rest her head on her shoulder. The latter’s eyes were beginning to close when Bartes returned.

  “I think you ought to see this,” he said to RD. “We’ve got a problem. Leave Anoushka and the boys to recuperate.”

  Tanya gently slipped out from under Anoushka, laying her friend’s head on a bedroll, and followed the men through the trees. Running across the path was a broad swathe of clear ground stretching in a straight line to the north and south as far as the eye could see, with barbed-wire fences either side. Down the middle of the channel ran twin rails at roughly head height.

  “What’s this?” Tanya asked.

  “It looks like some sort of guide-rail for high-speed anti-gravity trains,” Bartes said.

  Iain looked worried. “How’re we going to get across?”

  “We’ll need holes on both sides,” RD said, “but we’d have to cut this fence first, and whoever goes over to cut the other one is going to be pretty exposed.”

  “D’you think they’re alarmed?” Tanya asked.

  “Probably,” Bartes said, “but what alternative do we have?”

  “None,” RD said. “And because the enemy are hunting us, they’ll be alert. We’ll rest up for a while and plan how to do this, and try to get over and away before they can react.”

  “I could teleport over to the other side, beyond the wire,” said Tanya. “If I cut a hole that side at the same time as Bartes cuts a hole here, it would be quicker and lessen the enemy’s chance to respond.”

  “You can teleport?” RD looked at Tanya suspiciously. “What sort of witch are you?”

  “The useful sort. Leave her alone.” Bartes’ sudden belligerence cowed RD to silence.

  “It’ll take a lot of energy, and I can’t carry much. A single layer of clothing and, if I hold them tightly, some wire-cutters is about all. And it’ll take me a while to recover fully afterwards.”

  They found a place which was well hidden from the infrequent but insistent fly-overs and settled in to wait. Tanya sat and prepared herself while RD, Iain and Bartes took it in turns to watch the tracks. They could hardly miss the trains anyway, as their passing sent a fierce wind blowing through the trees.

  “Look, I think we’ve established the pattern,” Iain said after a couple of hours. “There should be a long enough gap after the next southbound express to get across.”

  “Unless they change the schedule,” RD pointed out morosely.

  “We’ve got to risk it some time,” Bartes said. “It’s either that or wait here till we’re found and captured.”

  Once the train had rocketed past, Tanya took a deep breath and disappeared. She reappeared instantly on the other side, just beyond the fence. She signalled Bartes, and they started cutting holes in the wire while RD and Iain watched the tracks in both directions for any unexpected visitors. As Bartes cut one of the wires, there was a slight discharge.

  “Some of the wires are alarmed,” he called to Tanya.

  “Not half as alarmed as we’ll be if anyone appears. Let’s hurry this up.”

  As soon as the gap was big enough, Iain squirmed through and ran for the nearest rail. The size and number of the supports made it tricky to get underneath, so he simply threw his pack over and vaulted nimbly after it.

  Bartes ran to the first rail while Iain leapt over the second, and they prepared to help the less athletic members of the party across, beginning with Anoushka. Bartes lifted her up so she could straddle the rail and drop between the tracks, and passed her pack over. Iain hauled her over the next one, and she was soon crouched beside Tanya in the undergrowth.

  As soon as she was clear, Bartes signalled Peter, and he, too, reached the other side successfully. Then it was Joseph’s turn.

  As the boy touched the ground between the rails, there was the chatter of gunfire and dust spurted around him. He, Iain and Bartes dived next to the rails for the small amount of cover they provided.

  Hovering over the trees was a black helicopter gun-ship. An amplified voice issued from it: “Put your weapons down and surrender!”

  :Where the hell did that bastard come from so quickly?: Bartes sent to Tanya.

  :It must have already been in the area,: Tanya replied. :Whatever we try, they’re dogging our heels, every step of the way.: She shook her head in exasperation.

  Beyond the rails, RD dropped to one knee and aimed his rifle at the helicopter. A stuttering of shots pinged off the armoured shell of the intruder, and there was an immediate response: RD had to leap aside smartly as the chain gun shredded the place where he’d been kneeling. “So much for taking us alive,” he called to the others.

  “Take Anoushka into cover,” Tanya snapped at Peter. He opened his mouth to protest, but, seeing Anoushka’s terrified face, thought better of it. They disappeared into the undergrowth.

  My God, what can we do? They’re sitting ducks, Tanya thought. If only I could dist
ract the pilot… As she lay prone, her hand brushed against a fallen leaf and she had an idea. I wonder…

  She laid the leaf in the palm of her hand and, despite her weariness, focussed her attention on it. Once she had it fixed in her head, she stretched out mentally towards the gun-ship and located the pilot’s mind. He didn’t detect her presence – controlling the helicopter was taking all his concentration. She moved her focus down to his larynx and created a representation of the leaf within it. She compressed the connection between the two leaves and released her end; suddenly, her hand was empty.

  The gun-ship jerked and veered suddenly sideways, before swinging round, exposing its more lightly armoured side. RD fired again as it lurched backwards and its rotors caught the trees. It spun uncontrollably and crashed headfirst into the tracks, spraying shrapnel in all directions.

  They waited in stunned silence for signs of life from the wreck, but none were forthcoming. Bartes broke the spell. “Are you OK, Tanya?” he called.

  “I think so,” she replied, looking up at the sharp piece of metal embedded in a tree-trunk a few inches above her head.

  “I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Iain interjected sardonically. “What about you?”

  “I’m not hurt,” Bartes replied. “The rail sheltered me from most of the blast. Where’s Joseph?”

  Iain stood up and looked over the rail, where he could see a crumpled figure. “There he is,” he called. “Joseph, are you all right?”

  To his relief, the figure moved, and slowly raised itself to its knees. The boy’s right arm hung uselessly, and blood was pouring from his scalp.

  “Come over here, boy – I’ll help you over,” Iain called.

  Whether he had been deafened by the explosion, or was simply stunned, they never knew, but instead of fleeing, Joseph started to stumble towards the smouldering wreck.

  “Come back,” Tanya yelled. “It’s not safe.”

  “I’m going to get him,” Iain called, and braced himself to leap over the rail.

  “No!” Tanya cried. “It could explode any second.”

  It was too late. The fuel tank erupted, igniting the munitions in the burning carcase. Tanya dived back into the bushes, and Iain and Bartes ducked behind the rails as bullets and a second wave of shrapnel flew past them.