by Gene Stiles
“You would dare question my commands?” Cronus took a step back. “Who are you to disobey me? I am the Lord Father!”
Iapetus saw the stance, the rippling of muscles, but he knew Cronus would never…
His thought remained uncompleted. Cronus lashed out with an eruption of black fury. Even the granite-like body of Iapetus could not sustain such a hellish impact. He flew high into the air, tossed over the rails like a flapping piece of sail. He tried to twist his body into a roll, but at that moment, Cronus slammed the levers forward and the black ship lunged into the sea like a striking murcat. Iapetus slammed with back-crushing force on the hard wood main deck. He felt the snap of his spine for the briefest of seconds before darkness dropped like a heavy curtain upon him.
Chapter XIII
Twisting red and black lightening curled inside Cronus’ eyes, tinged with green fire, making it difficult to see. He shook his red-maned head, trying to clear his dimly clouded vision. The Black Death tore into churning waters that matched the bloodstained claws ripping into his guts. Foul serpents rose from the depths of his soul, pyramid shaped heads, florescent green eyes, slits of ebony down their centers. Poisonous venom dripped from long, sharp fangs, burning like acid where it touched his mind. Voices, soft and familiar, whispered words of encouragement, making promises unheard.
Somewhere in the tempestuous morass of his rage, a white beacon of reason grew with brilliant intensity. It did not kill the knot of serpents, just forced them to the edges of its light. They hissed and spit black sputum at the brightness, burning the outside, but never penetrating the core. Cronus fought the snakes curling inside him as he had so many times in the past, shoving them back into the recesses of his mind.
The world around him came slowly into a misty focus. He felt the sting of salt spray clouds thrown into the air by the prow of the racing ship, the wetness moistening his fevered brow. The thunder assaulting his ears subsided enough so the cries and groans of his injured crew could gain a foothold, raising in volume until they clamored for his attention. Bolts of lightning succumbed to the glowing light of the deep blue sea and milky mist around him.
Only then did Cronus note that the scanner displays were blank, no flickering green light showing the shadows of islands in the fog, no ghostly ships in the distance. He was blind. He eased back on the throttles until the roar of the engines faded to a dull rumble. Cronus strained his ears, searching for the sound of waves crashing against jagged rocks. Far in the distance came the rumble of jet engines in the mist, the sounds echoing off the island cliffs and rippling over the green waters below, direction impossible to discern. It seemed to Cronus that they came from in front of him, his quarry running full tilt away from him. He punched the engines forward, keeping the sound of the island to his right. ‘You will not escape!’ he thought, a demon snarl creasing his lips. ‘You will not!’
The Wind Star made fast headway in the calm seas, turning ever to port on an intercept course with the Northern Star. Captain Lianas knew he was taking serious risk rushing full ahead. The powerful roar of the engines could easily give away their position to the beast behind them, yet he really had no choice. Time was of the essence. His engineers had assured him that the Device would send a pulse that would disable the sensors on other, unshielded ships, limiting them to visual only. It was never tested in practice and the Captain did not expect to have to use it so soon.
A long, thin braid of tight, black curls escaped from the tooled leather band surrounding his wide, square head and whispered across his vision. Absently he brushed it aside, letting the damp salt air glue it to the top of his head. The leather band chaffed the ebony skin seemingly stretched across his creased forehead. His mahogany eyes searched the monitors for any sign of the Northern Star, praying he would not see a ghostly image at his stern.
An eternity passed before he saw the long, massive form of his sister ship take shape on the screens before him. A deep sigh escaped from between thick, wide lips that raised in a small smile of relief. Before he had a chance to raise the ship-to-ship coms, a cool, calm voice rumbled over the com, a touch of humor edging the words.
“Welcome, my brother. What took you so long?” Captain Kaikinos could not completely contain his joy at finding his friend alive, even with the gravity of their plight. “Is all well with you?”
“As well as can be expected,” Captain Lianas replied, bringing the Wind Star alongside the larger vessel. “We lost a number of good men and women, but the overall damage to our ship seems contained to the masts,” he continued gravely. “Are you seaworthy? We have little time to spare.”
“We are.” Captain Kaikinos sadly laid out the loss of crew and the port side plasma-cannon, noting what happened when the black ship’s own cannons had struck the stern shield. “I trust the Device worked its magic. Where did that monstrosity come from?”
“Unknown. It must have come from Atlantis, though I never heard a whisper of its origin.” Lianas shook his head, knowing his friend could not see the action nor the furrows in his darkening brow. “I did note the wide prow and wings that spread onto the main deck. If the Device worked – and there is no way of knowing as yet – that will leave a blind spot we can use to advantage. If the Device did not work, we are both dead. Are your sensors functioning?
“They are,” Kaikinos replied, “but that black ship is not visible at present. If we are to escape, that nightmare must be disabled at the very least.”
Far off, on the eastern horizon, a faint yellow orb peeked its head above the still calm waters. Soon the golden rays would burn away the shroud around them, losing their only true advantage.
“I, too, agree.” Lianas nodded to himself, thinking for long moments before responding. “We are blessed with this fog, but it will not mask us for long. We shall use it as long as we can. Get underway and move deeper into the mist.”
“Whoever is commanding that vessel has no understanding of the sea. He could have destroyed us both in his first pass,” Kaikinos replied.
“This is so true,” Lianas smiled grimly. “I have an idea. It will be very, very dangerous, I am afraid and relies heavily on the prayer that his sensors are still malfunctioning. I will outline our strategy as we go. Should that commander remain so foolish, we may just survive our next encounter.”
The edges of the fog ripped away into tatters and a vile, dark demon tore through the thin remains. It raised its serpent-like head high above the waters, searching for the first sign of hapless prey on which to strike, yet there was nothing. No crippled ships lay listing in the cold, blue sea awaiting venomous fangs dripping black poison. No broken planks of wood or floating crates dotted the skyline, drifted on the slowly moving ocean. No charred or bleeding body parts soiled the rippling waters with pools of bright red stains that drew hungry fishes. There was nothing.
Cronus howled into the brightening sky, raging at the glistening yellow and white-streaked orb that rose slowly on the eastern horizon. His hate-fueled rage crackled along every burning nerve ending and gave voice to the black serpent surrounding him. Ropes of pulsing veins stood out on his thick neck like vines wrapped tightly around a tree. Green eyes blazed in competition with the sun and grooves and ticking muscles distorted his normally handsome face. He scanned the flat sea in every direction, searching in vain for his accursed quarry.
Cronus shut down the engines of the Black Death and let her drift. He drew one long, slow breath, inhaling the crisp, salty air between his pursed red lips, pulling it deep into his wide chest, down to his very core. Holding it there for long moments, he closed his eyes and let a false sense of calmness overtake him before exhaling through the widened nostrils of his straight, narrow nose. He felt his flaming anger dim to burning embers, his overwhelming madness receding to the inner chambers of his soul. The torrential floods of emotion washing over him prevented him from thinking clearly and he knew he needed his wits about him if he was to defeat his enemy.
Flicking his tongue between his
lips to take another taste of the moist morning air, eyes still closed, he listened with both ears and mind. He heard the gently rising wind, sea birds chirping in the wakening dawn, the lapping of waters breaking gently against the dark hull of his vessel. Cronus let the low throbbing of his ship’s engines course through the soles of his feet and join the cadence of his own beating heart. A canopy of sound arose around him, voices of men, angry and fearful, yet disciplined and loyal, and moans of pain fading with the golden glow of Healings.
An eternity later, Cronus heard another sound echoing far in the distance through the dissipating mist behind him. It was the quieting rumble of jet engines shutting down, yet still heading in his direction. He listened carefully, but could discern no more. He opened his glistening, green eyes, a small, vicious sneer twisting the corners of his full lips.
Slowly this time, Cronus brought the Black Death into a tight, portside turn pointing its high-arced prow in the direction of the fading fog. The ghostly phantoms draped over the coastal islands on his left screamed in silent frustration as their strangle hold burned away with the coming of sunrise. He watched the blue-green water lapping at the base of a cracked granite cliff side, mounds of stone covered with sickly, green slime and wrapped in thick tendrils of seaweed. With both hands firmly on the throttles, Cronus searched the light mist for the slightest sound.
And there it was. The sea parted and churned around the sharp hull of a fast moving vessel. From the rumble of the waters behind the ship, echoing off the sheer, white, cliff side, Cronus knew it was the larger of his two enemies, the one the Black Death had cut into so deeply. Good! He would destroy it first, tear it apart so completely that only blackened shards of timber and spreading pools of bright red blood would stain the deep blue sea. Afterward, he would seek out and sink the tiny thing that accompanied it, ripping it asunder so no trace of it remained to mark its passing. With three of the traitorous vessels torn from the world, the last would be left defenseless, easy prey for the Black Death.
“Weapons at ready,” Cronus screamed into the coms, slamming the throttles full forward. “Prepare for battle! Prepare for battle! Now! Now!”
Captain Kaikinos saw the monstrous demon in the shifting colors of his displays heading straight at the prow of the Northern Star. Even though still hidden by the thick white of the diminishing fog, he knew instinctively there was no longer any reason for subterfuge. The Captain thrust the throttles forward, feeling the mighty jet engine rumble into life. He felt the vibration seeping through the wooden planks at his feet, surging up his oaken legs, causing a pleasant electric tingling through his thick, black beard and seeming to crackle down the shoulder-length, wavy black hair at the top of his head. Even in the gravity of his peril, his full lips parted in the slightest of smiles, showing a thin line of glistening white teeth.
“There it is,” his First Mate, Inopos, said calmly, pointing into the lightening fog, his emerald green eyes cutting into the tattered veil. He stood at the wheel next to his Captain, his wide, long-fingered hands gripped firmly on the mahogany spokes and his well-muscled legs wide spread and planted solidly on the deck.
Kaikinos stared into the mist, seeing the darkening shape of the killer ship baring down upon him with incredible speed and knew there was only a few short minutes left before their desperate gamble came into play. The Captain only took a moment to glance down at the main deck, noting his crew set at their battle stations and as ready as could be expected for the coming of the demon.
“Hard to starboard now,” Kaikinos ordered crisply. “Fire at will,” he called into the coms. “Fire at will.”
Inopos only gave a curt nod, spinning the wheel over as far as it would go and holding it securely in place. Beneath his unflinching exterior, he could not help but feel a rush of fear and adrenalin roll over him. It sent a cold shiver up his spine that rippled through his combat-hardened, Aam body. Never before had he witnessed something like the horror they prepared to fight. That hellish behemoth bore down on them with a speed that defied the imagination, tearing into the waters and parting them as if they were made of the thinnest cloth. The high, curved prow seemed to stare down upon him with fiery, red eyes, hungry for the taste of fresh blood. With great difficulty, Inopos shook off his dread and concentrated only on the task at hand, praying the Creator would smile down upon them.
As the Northern Star made its turn to the sun, a smaller vessel, hidden in its shadow peeled off to port. The Wind Star had run so closely to the bigger vessel that their wakes had merged into one. A very dangerous maneuver indeed for if Captain Lianas did not maintain a constant speed and distance, the turbulence from the larger vessel could suck them hard against its hull with crushing force. If it worked, if the forward sensors of the enemy were still offline, if they could hide in the fog, if the other captain took their bait and if they could hide in the high, wide wings on that vile, malignant prow, they could take that beast by surprise.
Far too many ifs for the stomach of Captain Lianas. The long, twisted tresses of his curly, black hair seemed to move around his rock-like head like a nest of vipers agitated by the scent of a fertile female. His ebony skin glistened with fog/sweat, praying beyond praying that their audacious gambit would save them all. If not, he held no illusions that the monstrous, black ship would cut them to pieces and the Izon would be lost.
‘Another if,’ he thought, taking a deep, slow breath. His wide nostrils flared as if to catch the stench of the beast at his door, but his jaw remained square and his dark eyes never left the ship racing his way. In time with his brother on the Northern Star, Captain Lianas brought his engines to a full stop, allowing the Wind Star to run only on its forward momentum before pulling his ship into full reverse. The Wind Star shuddered but obeyed his command and came to a near complete stop.
“Fire! Fire!” Lianas commanded.
A roar like no other ripped through the morning air, drowning out all other sound. Not even the coms were heard over that deafening scream. Crewmen dropped to their knees, covering their ears with both hands in the vain hope of keeping their eardrums from exploding. The prow of the demonic ship reared so high into the air, the serpentine head blotted out the morning sun, exposing a full quarter of its underbelly. It seemed to claw at the sky in enraged fury as if trying to launch itself out of the very sea and the stern sunk so low it looked like the bunched muscles of some gigantic, black murcat preparing to spring.
Captain Lianas felt his bearded jaw sink to the deck. The pure awe on his face changed to a sinking sense of horror at shear, pure power of the vessel they thought to attack. The bowels of that dark horror shed seawater in torrents that seemed to the Captain like some sickly, green venom about to rain down upon him. A momentarily sense of overpowering panic stunned the big man, knowing down to the pit of his soul that the creature would come crashing down on his tiny ship. Instinctively, Lianas shoved the silver levers before him all the way to their stops, praying he would pass before he was squashed like some insignificant insect, still firing as he went.
Banking to starboard of gargantuan beast, Captain Kaikinos stared in petrified terror, the wings of the monstrous apparition appearing to spread out as it emerged from the cold, blue sea. The viperous head curled above him, looking down upon the Captain with red, malicious eyes. Its black, banned body rose above even the highest decks of the Northern Star, dwarfing the vessel in its shadow. Saltwater glistened like dark crystals in the bright sunshine against that darkness. The phantasm’s hull shed the turquois sea like a waterfall of scaly death. Thick vines of slimy, green seaweed entwined with bulbous bile fell like putrid acid into the churning waters. His crew gaped in stupefied awe, frozen at their stations and unable to continue duties.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” Kaikinos screamed into the coms, never tearing his eyes from the murderous vessel. “Damn you! Fire!”
Ropy streams of with-hot plasma answered his commands. The Northern Star inflicted unexpected, unimaginable damage on the gargantuan ship a
s he passed by. The Captain was stunned to witness the blinding brilliance of his cannon cutting a diagonal gash from the belly of the beast to just above the port side bulwarks amidships. Beams of white-hot light struck black bands on the demon’s hull, glancing off into sky and sea, boiling the waters around it. Dances of death ended where the sun-hot plasma burst through the planking, reducing bodies to wind-blown ash. Shards of brightly glowing wood burst high into the air sending an arc of fiery rain over the port side. Kaikinos could not understand why the black monster did not return fire. He had no way of knowing that Cronus had destroyed his own starboard side guns with his wild, hate-fueled rage and maniacal maneuvers.
The evil prow began to dip and Captain Kaikinos knew deep in every fiber of his being what was about to happen. He rammed the throttles forward with all his considerable strength. The powerful, Proto-sun fueled engine bellowed out in challenging thunder, struggling against the controls as if yearning to stay locked in mortal combat with its demonic adversary.
Kaikinos screamed into the coms, “Keep firing! Keep firing and brace yourselves!” He shouted at his First Mate, “Hard to port! Hard to port!” For endless moments, his hundred and fifty foot vessel fought his commands, remaining on a steady forward course. The Captain glanced sharply to his left, finding Inopos staring blankly at the death coming toward them.
“Inopos!” He screamed at his friend, with an open-handed swing across the back. “Hard to port or we all die!” Seeing the giant wheel spin, Kaikinos called out, “Hold on! Hold on!”
He prayed with all his heart that the Wind Star had seen the beam of plasma scythe into the behemoth and moved to out of the fiery skyfall.
The Wind Star had its own problems. Captain Lianas saw the rising ship and, though it made him shiver to his core, held himself firm. His initial attack cut huge chunks of burning wood from hull, ripping a lethal line beneath the waterline all along the port side and through the guts of the black ship, stopped where the borithium strips deflected the beams. As it dropped back into the sea, torrents of water poured through the burning gash into its bilge, drowning flame and men.