The Shattered Sky

by Paul Lucas

  The KN’s contact with the Boiler Lords had always been marked by hostility and often open conflict. A number of battles had been fought, helistat versus crawler. Usually the helistat, much more maneuverable and armed with long-range missiles, came up the winner, but not always.

  “But if we are where D’Artagnan thinks we are on the Megashard,” I said, “then we are almost as far away from Boiler Lord territory as we are away from the Tower. Almost a quarter-million kilometers."

  Amethyst shrugged, looking through her rifle’s heavily-battered electronic scope at the nearby tree line, checking for heat-signatures. “That’s if we are where he thinks we are. He's said a number of times that his estimates are crude at best."

  “I still think I'm right, though,” came a whispered voice from above. I looked up to see a D'Artagnan's element bodies slowly descend from the ceiling on strands of silk. “Whatever did this to the helistat wasn’t a Boiler Lord artillery gun.”

  “What then?” The Orc mused. “Spells?”

  D’Artagnan swarmed his element-bodies over toward the bridge, leaving two behind to converse with us. It had taken the new Swarm months to learn how to talk properly again, but once he did he quickly re-educated himself using the databases in our remaining hand computers. The one thing he did seem to retain from his “parent” swarm was his affinity for things technological. As to the significance of his new name, D’Artagnan, I was told it was the old Earth author Alexander Dumas' most famous character.

  “Spells are a possibility,” the two remaining spiders said in unison. With only two of them speaking, we had to strain a little harder to hear their softer voices. “But also unlikely. Look at the damage here and in other parts of the craft. If it were someone using the Nanotech Matrix, you’d assume a hostile party would use the nanites already aboard to carry out their attack, like from a Combust or Shattersound spell. But all those holes have obviously been blown from the outside in. No spell the KN knows, at least to my knowledge, could do that. Of course that doesn’t preclude Matrix Manipulations of which we might be unaware.”

  “Okay,” Amethyst said. “Say it’s either the Matrix or a technological agency that did it. I still want to know what kind of attack it was. Can you tell us what precisely hit the helistat?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” The spiders said. “See how the edges of the hole are melted, and how bits of molten metal seemed to have splashed along the interior? At first I thought it was a laser, but then lasers would have made far neater holes in plastic and metal. They only explode things with water in them, when all that concentrated heat causes steam explosions. No, I think what did this was some sort of concentrated, high-energy plasma jet, like those experimental “pulse” cannons the Teranesians back home have been experimenting with, or perhaps some submunition that could mimic the effect.”

  “Forge of Heaven,” Amethyst whispered, running fingers almost reverently along the edge of the blast hole. “Those things can blast through a tank. We’re lucky this helistat's hull is still in one piece, then.” She tugged her lips down. “Figuratively speaking, of course. And that kind of weapon is too sophisticated for the Boiler Lords to have come up with, either.”

  I shrugged. “We are lucky we found this helistat at all, given we could be anywhere in the Outlands.”

  “Not just anywhere,” D’Artagnan said. “And given what I’ve been finding on the bridge, it was not that great a coincidence that we ran across it. This is the Milthrai’s Dream, and given what records we have of its flight plan when it left Elysium three years ago, the nearby Builder City must be Artifact Site X31, its main goal. We just converged on the same place it happened to be going.”

  Amethyst rubbed her prodigious jaw. “Let’s see, you say the database showed it left the KN three years ago? At half a million klicks distance, it would have taken it, what, a year to get out here?”

  “More or less,” D’Artagnan said.

  “Okay, that means two things. One, since its flight plan was known and it is already a year overdue, it will be declared missing in another year. Then the KN will probably launch a follow-up mission to see what happened to it and to complete its investigation of the artifact site.”

  I followed her logic, nodding. “And that means a helistat will be coming out this way in about two years!”

  “Not only that, but two, any surviving crew of the Milthrai’s Dream here would have known that, too. Chances are they are still in the area.”

  “If there were any survivors,” came Cloud’s voice behind us. While we had been inspecting the main damage points, he had conducted a cursory tour of the interior. “And if whoever attacked the helistat did not get to them first.” He glanced meaningfully behind him. “This ship has been scavenged, and I do not mean just by animals raiding the leftover food stores. Almost nothing is left in any of the cabins I looked in, not even mattresses or furniture. They took almost everything that was not bolted directly to a bulkhead.”

  “And sometimes even that,” D’Artagnan said. “My element-bodies on the bridge have been finding a number of electronic units missing, like the radar and radio suites. They weren’t ripped out, either. Someone very carefully unscrewed them and unplugged their wireports.”

  “The crew could have stripped the ship themselves, if they had to move after the crash,” I ventured.

  Amethyst shook her head. “No. I’d like to think that, too, but its far more likely that any surviving crewmembers were captured by whoever attacked the airship. I don’t think they could have crash-landed with so much damage and not have taken any casualties. Yet, we didn’t find any graves or markers anywhere close by. Humans would have buried their dead, if they could.”

  “So what do we do now? Find out what happened to the crew?”

  “The more important thing,” Cloud said, “is finding out if whoever downed this craft is still close by.”

  FIFTY-FOUR

  "Talking to an incomprehensible alien intelligence isn't so hard. Getting her to shut the hell up while I watch the gravball game, that's another story."

  --Teranesian Comedian Del Tharef, on his wife, from the transcript of the Grand Known Nations Comedy Fest XIII, broadcast by the Tera Broadcast Network, 11 December 547

  * * *

  We chanced a small fire that night in the middle of the wrecked helistat’s large cargo hold. The chamber had a huge rent in the roof and the gas envelope above it. It afforded us a narrow view of the Shardless night sky above. Hidden away from outside view and its smoke concealed by the cloudy night, Amethyst was reasonably sure it would fail to give us away to any potential enemies that did not already know we were there. Besides, we needed the morale boost of having a fire. Despair is an enemy that always had to be held at bay in the Outlands, especially when you are so unimaginably far away from home. The helistat wreck only seemed to drive that reality home all the deeper.

  And it did not help that Cloud was at it again. “Gossamyr, why must you be so unreasonable?” he said as Amethyst and D’Artagnan busied themselves with checking the perimeter scanners. Louis was buried in his sleeping roll and snoring softly. “We have been together all this time, endured so much at each others’ side. Have I really turned out to be so despicable? Is it really so difficult for you to find a place for me in your life?”

  My teeth ground. “Cloud, please...”

  He leaned forward. “Gossamyr, I know how lonely you have been. How we both have been. We can change that...” His tool-fingers tentatively lowered on my shoulder.

  I slapped it away, snarling. “Enough! Half a Shard and a lifetime away and you still cannot comprehend that I Mated with Lerner and not you!”

  Cloud’s anger flashed. “Lerner is a year and half dead, Gossamyr! When are you going to accept that? Get on with your life! Why should you deny yourself--deny both of us--what could be our only chance at a real family?”

  I wanted to hit him. No, I wanted to summon my most powerful fire spirit and cram it down his throat. Instead, I s
hot him a murderous look and stalked away. He made a disgusted sound but did not follow.

  I was so angry that I only noticed Amethyst and D’Artagnan were in my way as I brushed past them. One spider had to skitter madly out of the way to narrowly avoid being stepped on. The Orc stepped aside then rushed after me.

  I was well down the airship’s main spinal corridor when she finally caught up. I sat down heavily on a lumpy piece of debris, snapped my wings, and harrumphed loudly.

  Amethyst raised a brow bemusedly. “So he tried to come on to you again, eh?”

  My hands clenched at empty air, wishing for a neck between them. “He--is--an--OAF! If I had wanted to Mate with him, I would have done so years ago! Why can he not get that through his UTSite-thick skull?”

  “He’s male,” she said, the only explanation she needed.

  “He told me that Lerner has been dead for a year and a half and that I should get on with my life!” I continued. “I cannot believe his nerve!”

  Amethyst’s smirk faded into a thoughtful frown. She tilted her head to one side. “There may be something in what he says,” she said. “Not that you should sleep with Cloud or anything. But...”

  “But what?”

  Guiltily, she looked away. “It was obvious to everyone back at the Tower how much you loved Lerner. But he’s gone, Gossamyr. You can’t keep punishing yourself for what happened. You need to move on, find someone else.”

  “Like Cloud?” I spat.

  “No, definitely not.” Once, on our long journey, she and Cloud had gotten drunk and spent the night together, probably in an ill-conceived impulse to get even with Louis and me for our night of almost-passion by the waterfall. Both regretted it for reasons they would never specify, and had never repeated it. “But someone. I know we have not met any other Myotans as we thought we might, but there has been some nice enough human males who were interested in you.”

  “And being who I am, you thought that humans are not necessarily a bad choice for me. Like that chieftain who was willing to trade away half his tribe’s horses to “buy” me? Or that trader on the Little Sea who said we could make a fortune by hitting every port in his little pocket empire and having me dance for coins? Or how about the Otterkin we met on the H’rai River?”

  The Orc shrugged. “Gossamyr, you’ve avenged your husband and have mourned him properly. Now you should seize whatever chance at happiness you can. I know Lerner would not want you to be miserable for the remainder of your days just because he is not here to share them with you.”

  I drew up my legs and wrapped my wings around them. My ears hugged my skull as I thought of how to reply. “I know,” I said quietly. “In my head, at least, I know that. But in my spirit, I feel very differently. I have been tempted more than once, you know. Remember that Dreamwalker Shaman in the city-state of Auuel about three months ago?”

  “The one you were always talking shop with? He was cute, I guess, but a little on the short and skinny side.”

  “For you, maybe, but that made him attractively Myotan-like for me. He began seriously flirting with me, and I found myself flirting back, at first.”

  “At first?” Amethyst asked.

  “I had to stop. I felt like I was betraying Lerner. Just like with Louis, the feeling just came crashing down on me like the fall of night. I ran out of the Dreamwalker's hut and never saw him again.”

  We were quiet for some time, thinking our own thoughts. “Spirits, I still miss Lerner so much,” I said.

  “I know.”

  More silence. Finally I stood. “I am going for a walk.”

  She nodded. “Do you have everything?” By that she meant my sidearm, my radio, and my inertial locator. When I showed her I did, she did not protest. I had long since proven myself to her; she knew I could take care of myself, as surely as she knew I needed to be alone at times like this.

  I exited the wreck and made my way into the surrounding forest. My night vision and directional hearing allowed me to navigate my way fairly well, despite the gloom. I made my way to a small clearing, where I could look up at the sky. Small breaks slowly forming among the clouds allowed some Shardlight to peek through.

  “Can you hear me, Lerner?” I asked the night sky.

  No answer, of course. Nothing at least that could register in the physical world. At times, I thought I could feel his spirit close by, but it was just as likely to be my own desperate imagination.

  But that did not stop me from talking to him anyway. “I miss you. Every day I miss you. I pray to the Sky Spirit that you are happy, and that you are with Sunset's spirit.”

  A soft breeze tickled my fur. I imagined Lerner’s spirit passing by me, embracing me as only a spirit can.

  I haltingly told him of what had just happened between Cloud and me, of Amethyst’s advice. “What should I do?” I asked. “Amethyst was right that I cannot keep living like this. I am so lonely, and I hurt inside so much of the time. But I am your Mate. No matter what Amethyst or Cloud or D’Artagnan or even my own inner voice sometimes tell me, being your Mate is not something I once was, but something I still am.”

  I pulled my shotgun from its hip holster. I ran a tool finger slowly along its barrel. “I can join you. When I first freed our son’s spirit from his monstrous body all those months ago, I tried to join you, but that gun was empty. This one isn't.”

  I pointed the weapon at my heart, toggling the safety off. It would be so easy.

  I held the gun there, trembling, for many heartbeats.

  I let the weapon fall into loose fingers as I slumped to my knees on the cool grass. It took many minutes for me to reluctantly flip the safety back on and re-holster it. “I am sorry, Lerner,” I whispered. “I want to be with you. I really do. But I just cannot bring myself to do it. Like all the other times I have tried to join you these past months, something I just cannot name holds me back.”

  The wind picked up. I let it wash over me, willing its bracing chill to cleanse my troubled spirit.

  “You there! Trespasser!”

  I looked up, startled. The booming voice came from the far tree line. I almost did not recognize the words, as heavily accented as they were. Yet, the language it spoke was unmistakable.

  Myotan!

  I was on my feet in an instant, my hand hovering over my gun. Who--?

  “Identify yourself!” the voice demanded. “This site is off-limits! What is your name and worker number?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I could make out over a dozen shapes moving in the gloom just beyond the clearing. More than I could handle with a single weapon. A few spells would do the trick, but I had no idea how many more there might be beyond what I could see. Fire spirits or a Shattersound spell might take out a dozen up close and really tick off the few hundred that might be just behind them. I decided for the moment to handle this diplomatically.

  “I am a traveler,” I yelled in the direction of the voice. I decided there was no need to mention the others just yet. “I mean neither you nor your people any harm. If I have violated your territory or your laws without knowing, I am willing to make any compensation within reason.”

  “A clever lie,” the voice said. “If you are truly from the primitive lands, than where did you get your --?” He ended the sentence with a word I had never heard before.

  “My what?” I asked.

  A loud report sounded. Dirt exploded at my feet. “Your --!” the voice said, emphasizing the unfamiliar word. “The weapon at your hip!”

  My eyes rounded wide. He meant my gun, and had used one of his own to emphasize the point. My people’s word for “gun” had of course come from the humans. His language, his version of Myotan, must have its own word for it.

  But far more significantly, he had a gun as well! Could they have captured them from the helistat crew?

  The situation had just become far more dangerous than I first supposed.

  “Now answer our questions, renegade!” the voice demanded. “And truthfully this time! What i
s your name and number? Why have you trespassed on restricted territory?”

  “I am telling you the truth!” I said. “I do not know of what number you speak of, but my name is Gossamyr Lerner. I am originally from a place my people call the Tower, which the Known Nations, allies of ours, also call Artifact Site X12.”

  "You are working with the sky devil humans, then! Where is your helistat?”

  “There is no helistat,” I began.

  “No more lies!” the voice boomed. “If you try to deceive us again, you will be punished for it!” For emphasis, they fired another bullet at my feet.

  Chattering gunshots exploding behind me instantly answered that lone bullet. I half-expected to feel the bullets rip through me, but instead I heard agonized screams from the far tree line.

  My momentary confusion instantly evaporated as soon as I heard Amethyst’s and Cloud’s voices behind me, shouting for me to get under cover. They must have heard my parley with our unknown attackers and had quickly and quietly worked their way into position.

  I leaped to the ground just as Amethyst loosed one of her rifle grenades. The clearing was momentarily lit as bright as day as its far edge ignited in an inferno of white phosphorus and flying bodies.

  I scrambled back to my companions, willing myself as close to the grass as I could. Bullets whizzed by in both directions over my head. Something that felt like a very big mosquito bit into the tip of my ear and I smelled the cooked-copper odor of my own blood.

  Finally I rolled over into the dried-up stream bed my companions were using for cover. It was barely hip high. Off to my side, Amethyst was scurrying along its length, poking her head up in one location, squeezing off a few bursts, then ducking down again and moving to a new position before her opponents could draw a bead on her. Cloud, with his much more modest hunting rifle, plinked off a few shots here and there, never doing much more than raising the rifle above the edge of the gully and firing blindly over his head. I got the idea his true purpose in all of this was to help keep the heat off of Amethyst, our only real combat expert.