90_Minutes_to_Live

by JournalStone

  Well, he hadn’t expected Odin to leave the Gate unprotected.

  “Odin or his students, I’m guessing. We’ll go out to meet them but we have to be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Odin has been guarding the Gate a long time. If it is your machine, then he knew. He knew but lied about it, lied for years.”

  “Maybe he didn’t know about the machine,” she said.

  “Odin has the key Lina,” he replied grimly. “And he knows more about the ancients than anyone. Believe me, he knew,” he handed her his knife. “If it comes to it, don’t think, just cut. We need that key and it’s going to cost blood. Are you with me?”

  She paled but took the knife and tucked it into her belt. “I’m with you.”

  Colton smiled. “Good girl.”

  Stepping out from cover they marched out of the Maze together, stopping at the center of the clearing where Colton grounded his spear.

  “You might as well come out!” he called. “I can smell the grease on your bowstrings.”

  He waited for a reply but received only silence.

  “Come out Odin! The clouds are gathering and I don’t fancy weathering a storm in the open!”

  A flicker of silver in his peripheral was his only warning. His spear blurred, knocking the metal shaft from the air before it could plunge into his heart.

  Lina yipped as the arrow clanged away, ducking behind Colton but he only scowled at rocks from which it came.

  “Is this how you would greet a former student Odin?” he demanded. “Shall I kill the one who shot at me by way of reply?”

  “You know the rules,” answered a gravelly voice from the rocks. “These lands are for me and my pupils alone. You are one of mine no longer Colton. Go home.”

  “I didn’t come for your food Odin.”

  “Then why?”

  Colton drew a steadying breath. “I want to use the Gate!”

  “The Gate is death,” Odin roared from hiding.

  “To stay in the city is death!” Colton shouted back. “It is dying under our feet!”

  A tall man, dressed in dark hides, stepped from the rocks. He was broad of shoulder and lean of waist and his bare arms were thick with corded muscle. His white beard was braided with silver wire and was nearly long enough to cover the wafer-like key held on a chain around his neck. His grin was wide and friendly but his eyes...

  Colton felt his throat tighten whenever he met Odin’s gaze. The man’s eyes were calculating, always calculating and they contained all the emotion of a dead lizard-rat.

  “Who says the city is dying?” Odin asked.

  “I do,” Colton said. He gestured to Lina. “And she does.”

  “She looks as if she crawled from a sewer. You both do,” Odin eyed their greasy clothes. He walked toward them, his spear held loosely at his side. “Who is she to convince you of such nonsense?”

  “She’s Lina, a skyper. The last of her clan, as am I. The reavers have taken everyone else.”

  “I’m sorry for you both.”

  Odin approached to within a few steps of them and grounded his spear. “A skyper you say?” he scratched his long whiskers. “It has been a long time indeed since I’ve spoken to one of the scraper folk. How goes life above the clouds?”

  “It doesn’t,” she answered. “We left our scraper when the power plant sank into the lava fields.”

  Odin’s snowy brows furrowed thoughtfully. “The power plant, you say?”

  He sounded confused but Colton wasn’t buying it. As she spoke there’d been spark of recognition in the old man’s dead eyes.

  “You already knew about the power plant,” Colton said.

  Odin just looked at him.

  “Do you know about the Gate too? Is it really a machine that can take us out of the city?” he pressed.

  Odin’s smile vanished. “Go home Colton. Take the skyper with you.”

  The ground trembled, sending gravel and rock pattering down from Wall.

  “You’re lying,” Colton stressed, in a voice like beaten iron. “Who are you? Why do you guard the Gate? You owe me the truth!”

  “I owe you nothing!” Odin roared. “I...I…” his face twisted as if he was in pain and then he suddenly laughed. “The ancients—how I hate them. Since you ask me a question directly, I am compelled to answer truthfully,” he smiled but the expression was thick with malice. “Do you think I wanted to teach every miserable orphan I encountered the last three hundred years? Do you suppose, gifted as I am with near immortality, I would choose to live in this wretched city?” he tapped the key beneath his beard. “I possess the means of escape but I cannot leave. I am cursed by the very technology that prolongs my life, cursed to remain and aid any survivors I find in ruins.”

  Lina’s hand tightened on Colton’s shoulder.

  “He’s a ky-borg,” she whispered. She sounded shocked and afraid. “Colton, he’s a ky-borg.”

  Colton stepped back from the old man. “A what?”

  “A ky-borg,” she repeated, “a machine-man created by the ancients.”

  “More machine than man,” Odin gave Lina a mocking bow. “It appears the skypers remember something of the old days.”

  Anger welled up in Colton like molten stone. “I fought to survive every day of my life, I lost my den, all because you said the world outside this Gate was dead.”

  “You were supposed to bring us to the Gate,” Lina said. “The ancients left you here to help the survivors.”

  “That was their intention,” Odin admitted “but their programming doesn’t compel it, only that I aid those I find alive and protect myself from damage. They made sure I couldn’t even kill myself,” he cocked a bushy eyebrow. “And I have aided many. I’ve shown hundreds how to survive in the desolation. Do you think I would allow any to leave here when I cannot? No. We shall face doom together. And doom will be coming soon, my old pupil. The clouds are thickening. If I had to guess, I’d say this cesspit will be a nothing but ash and fire in about ninety minutes.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Colton jerked his spear from the ground. “Give us the key old man. Or we’ll take it from you.”

  “You forget to whom you are speaking. You forget where you are.”

  Colton’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You think your pups can stop us?”

  “I’ve had no students for some time,” Odin said. “The reavers have seen to that. I entertain a different sort these days—castoffs, murderers and thieves—those whose allegiance is easily bought with the promise of food.”

  Odin waved his hand in a tight circle. A score of bowmen rose from the rocks, arrows drawn to cheek. An equal number of spearman broke cover as well, jogging into the clearing and quickly surrounding Colton and Lina.

  “I gave you a chance to leave but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Colton readied his spear. Lina drew her knife.

  Thunder rumbled, and several spearmen shot apprehensive glances at the darkening sky.

  Lightning flashed and flames exploded in the sky, painting the clearing in ominous red and yellows. A worlhound howled nearby, as if calling out in greeting to the emerging storm.

  “Last chance,” Colton said to Odin. “Give us the key or die.”

  The ground trembled. And waves of fire and rocks began lashing the World Wall in a burning cascade.

  The spearmen shifted their feet nervously but a glare from Odin held them in place. His craggily face was demonic in the firelight. “Kill them.”

  Before the spearman could act, a piercing howl drew all eyes to the Maze. A split-second later, Rags burst the glassy passage from where Colton and Lina had emerged.

  A horde of reavers spilled out behind him.

  The spearmen cried out and a flight of arrows flew down from the bowmen.

  A reaver fell, an arrow through its skull. More took wounds but continued on, despite the metal shafts decorating their blistered flesh. In seconds reavers were among the bowmen, pouncing onto the men lik
e spiders and tearing them apart. More of the mutants ran into the clearing, rushing toward those gathered at its center.

  Odin’s spearmen swiveled to face the new threat and Colton saw his chance. His spear swept out, cutting two before they knew what was happening. Lina rammed her knife into a third and then the reavers were among them.

  Colton blocked a gory axe from cleaving Lina’s skull, reversing his spear and impaling her attacker. A reaver rose up behind him and was brought down by Rags.

  His dark hide bleeding from a score of cuts the worlhound snapped the mutant’s neck with a savage bite and then looked up at Colton.

  “Did you have to bring so many?” Colton asked.

  Rags grunted roughly.

  “Just kidding,” Colton pushed Lina toward the worlhound. “Take her to the Gate, Rags. Protect her!”

  She began to protest but his glare silenced her. “I can’t get the key if I have to worry about you Lina! Go! I’ll be right behind you!”

  She nodded and turned, running for the slope, Rags close by her side.

  Cutting down a reaver who tried to follow the girl, Colton searched the melee for Odin. A fist of flame splashed down on the rocks, engulfing reavers and men alike. Screams filled the air as fire ate to the bone and men and mutants cut and killed.

  Lighting flashed and in the glare, a spear stabbed at Colton’s chest.

  He pivoted aside, taking a glancing slash to his bicep before swinging up his spear to parry Odin’s next strike.

  “You think reavers can save you?” asked Odin, stabbing at him again with inhuman speed. “You will die with them.”

  Dancing aside, narrowly avoiding Odin’s weapon, “I’m not dead yet,” Colton growled, aiming a backhanded slash at the ky-borg’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

  Odin defeated the slash with a blurring parry. “As you wish.”

  The ky-borg rushed in, his spear whirling like a durosteel hurricane.

  Spinning and dodging, Colton fought as never before. Despite his bravado a moment before, he realized in the first seconds of the duel he was in trouble. The ky-borg’s speed was phenomenal, inhuman. He could barely keep Odin’s metal tip from finding his heart, let alone launch a counterattack.

  A reaver dove at them from the side. Compared to the lightning-fast ky-borg the mutant appeared to moving in slow motion. Colton cut it down almost negligently as he slid beneath Odin’s next attack.

  Adrenalin pounded in Colton’s veins, making him nearly as fast as the machine-man. But it couldn’t last. Soon he would tire and slow. When that happened, he was dead.

  Odin came in low, slashing at his legs.

  Colton somersaulted back, landing in a crouch with spear extended defensively to prevent Odin from charging in for a quick kill.

  Instead of pressing the attack however the ky-borg whirled his spear and laughed.

  “I’d forgotten how much fun this is,” he said, paying no attention to the struggling group of reavers and spearmen behind him. “You’re good Colton. That you survived against me this long without augmentation is nothing short of remarkable. It’s a shame I have to kill you.”

  “Yes,” Colton taunted him, his gaze flitting over Odin’s shoulder. “It’s too bad.”

  With a warrior’s bellow, he charged three steps and threw his spear.

  Odin moved like a quicksilver, bending his back at an impossible angle, laughing as the spear passed harmlessly over him.

  “Foolish scavenger,” he mocked as he began to straighten.

  Colton’s shoulder hit Odin’s chest like a battering ram, propelling the off-balance ky-borg into the tangled battle behind him. Two reavers immediately leapt upon the old man, clawing him further into the skirmish.

  “Not so foolish,” Colton disagreed, lifting up the key he’d snatched from Odin’s neck. “Not anymore.”

  Odin’s face purpled with rage. Stabbing a reaver through he flicked the mutant aside. “You think these wretches can stop me?”

  A reaver bit into Odin’s arm. Pulling it close, he broke its neck with a hammering elbow. Tossing reavers and men alike aside, he moved inexorably toward Colton.

  “They are nothing. Nothing!” he stormed. “You are dead!”

  In reply, Colton pointed a finger toward the sky. “You first.”

  Odin’s enraged demeanor changed to one of confusion and he looked up.

  Fire splashed down from the sky, covering him and all those around him in liquid flame.

  Shrieks filled the air but whether they came from the ky-borg or the reavers, Colton didn’t know or care. He rushed for the Gate. Scorching fireballs struck the earth around him and he kept one eye on the heavens as he weaved through the flames.

  The ground bucked; a crack split the earth before him, spilling thick magma like blood from a wound.

  He leapt without slowing. Heat scorched his legs as he soared over the widening crevice. He tucked into a roll to break his fall and then sprang back up and kept running.

  At the Gate ahead, Lina shouted encouragements and Rags howled, their voices barely heard over the sounds of the storm and breaking earth.

  A wall of flame blistered Colton’s arm and face. Ignoring the pain he stumbled the last few steps up the slope.

  “I thought you were dead,” Lina said. Her cheeks were wet with tears. “I thought he killed you.”

  “He almost did. Old man was tougher than I thought,” he gasped.

  A fountain of magma burst up from the Maze, spilling down among the corridors of durosteel and ferrocrete.

  “It’s happening!” Lina shouted. “The city is sinking.”

  “We’re not sticking around to watch!”

  Finding the slot-like keyhole in the Gate’s surface, he jammed Odin’s key and heard a faint “click.”

  “I hope you’re right about this Lina….”

  The doors slid open, revealing an empty box-like room walled in the same golden metal as the Gate.

  A woman’s voice, gracious and motherly, spoke from thin air. “Emergency elevator engaged. Please enter in an orderly fashion.”

  Lina and Colton looked at one another, neither of them moving until the next tremor nearly knocked them from their feet.

  “You heard her,” Colton said, pushing Lina through into the room. “Let’s go. You, too, Rags.”

  The worlhound followed them inside and Colton began searching the featureless interior for some clue as to how to activate the lifting box. But the walls were bare.

  “Great,” he said. “We’re in. Now, how are we supposed to make it go?”

  “I don’t know.” Lina wrung her hangs anxiously. “I thought the key would do it.”

  The maze erupted again, shooting magma high into the burning clouds and sending a twenty-foot wall of liquid rock racing toward the Gate.

  Something chirped and the woman’s voice came again. “Are all passengers aboard?”

  “Yes!” Lina and Colton shouted as one.

  “Closing doors.”

  Colton breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to Lina. “I think—ackk!”

  A blacked arm shot between the doors, seizing Colton’s neck in white-hot fingers.

  Lina screamed as a scarecrow of a man stuck his smoking head into the room, blocking the doors.

  The doors stopped closing.

  “Doors obstructed,” the woman’s voice intoned.

  Heat vapor rising from his metallic skull, Odin lifted Colton into the air.

  Colton fought against the sizzling hold as his neck blistered but he couldn’t break free.

  “You are not leaving,” Odin hissed.

  The fingers tightened on Colton’s windpipe and darkness began to close in around Odin’s grinning skull.

  Rags’s growl was like approaching thunder.

  There was a flash of scales and blazing golden eyes, and Colton was suddenly free. His legs buckled and he fell to the floor, landing hard on the unforgiving surface. The pain hardly registered and his gaze never wavering from Rags and Odin a
s they tumbled down the slope outside the Gate, tearing at each other as they approached the rushing wall of lava.

  “Rags!” Colton breathed. Tears stung his singed cheeks and he looked away a moment before the worlhound disappeared into the unforgiving flames. “Rags!”

  The doors closed with a faint hiss and subtle motion touched Colton’s belly, taking a backseat to the grief in his soul. Lina hugged him, and he cried unashamedly.

  Some minutes later she nudged him gently and pointed at their feet.

  “Look.”

  He glanced down and blinked in surprise. The floor was transparent. The whole of the city, its flaming towers and lava-filled streets stretched out below, growing ever smaller until disappearing completely as the room rose into a black, chemical cloud.

  Lightning flashed and fire spread across the floor but there was no heat.

  Colton put his arm around Lina as they rose through the fire into a world of startling blue.

  “We made it,” she looked up, as if trying to gaze beyond the golden ceiling. “What do you suppose it’s like up there? Do you think it’s safe?”

  “I’m not sure,” he answered. He doubted anything could be as terrible as the city of fire. But what did he know? He’d spent his entire life in a hole. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

  She snuggled into him and closed her eyes. “I suppose we will.”

  Colton held the young skyper as she drifted to sleep but his gaze never strayed from the flaming clouds below.

  The sky above the city was burning.

  THE END

  Roque’s Requiem

  (Science Fiction)

  By

  Bill Patterson

  Milky Way, 2078 AD

  The silvery globe had been traveling the void for thousands of years. Hurtling through space at just under the speed of light, wrapped in a time-stopping stasis field, the meter-wide sphere sheltered a core of neutronium massing ten billion metric tons. A leftover projectile from a forgotten interstellar war, the shell was plucked this way and that by the gravitational fields of various stars it passed near. Interstellar magnetic fields induced gradual turns in its path, until it became quite impossible to deduce its original launch point. Like thousands of its brethren, this fired and forgotten projectile would have travelled unchanged, until the heat-death of the universe. Unlike them however, a yellow star seemed to be in the way.