by Craig Zerf
But Nate was surprised to note that the children were largely unmutated. Small lumps and minor deformities were apparent but not the massive inhuman growths and knobbles evident in the adults. He presumed that the deformities must enlarge as the mutants reached puberty, or at least as they advanced in age.
The marine did a quick head count. Five adult males, eight females and seven children. A family unit.
He continued watching the tribe for another minute and then nodded to himself, beckoned to Brett and Leon and crawled back into the night.
He led the way back to the horses in silence.
When they got to their mounts it was Leon who spoke first.
‘Not so many of them,’ he said. ‘Reckon that we can take them easy. First light, as the sun comes up you snipe the adults, then I go in and clean up.’
‘What about me?’ Asked Brett.
‘You take the Calotypes.’
‘Crap,’ she swore. ‘I didn’t join this outfit to take pictures, I can do more.’
‘Look,’ argued Leon. ‘It’s not that I think that you can’t do more, it’s simply that I don’t need any help to sort that camp out. After the boss takes out the males the rest will be easy.’
‘Well then why don’t I go in by myself then?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ growled the lion man.
‘Quiet,’ commanded Nathaniel, his voice a hoarse rasp. ‘No one will be going in.’
Leon raised an eyebrow. ‘Why boss,’ he enquired. ‘Are you going to do it?’
Nate shook his head. ‘No one is going to do it.’
Both Brett and Leon waited for Nate to clarify but the marine had nothing to add.
Finally Leon spoke. ‘I don’t get it. Do you reckon that we can’t take them?’
‘Five males and a bunch of women and children,’ said Nate. ‘Of course we can take them. I could do it with my hands tied behind my back.’
‘Well then,’ prompted Brett.
‘I don’t kill women and children. We don’t kill women and children. Not on my watch.’
‘Come on, Boss,’ urged Leon. ‘They’re not human. It’s different.’
The marine shook his head. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t go there.’
‘Fine,’ snapped Leon. ‘You wait here; Brett and I will sort this out. We’ll even share the bounty.’
Nathaniel shook his head again. ‘We leave. I’ll kill if I’m attacked or I’ll kill a band of marauding males. But women and children. Children. I had no idea. Didn’t think. Whatever - Not going to happen.’
The lion man sneered and turned away. ‘It was your idea,’ he said.
‘Leon,’ said Nate as he walked towards him. ‘I have spoken.’
‘So have I,’ responded the lion man. ‘And I’m going to do what we were hired to do.’
Nathaniel placed his hand on Leon’s shoulder.
The lion man spun around and brought his hand up, claws extending from the ends of his fingers like a fistful of ivory blades.
Brett had seen Nathaniel fight against the mutants that attacked the caravan and she knew that he was adept with both pistol and rifle. But she had also seen Leon in action as he had torn into the massive deformed Untouchables and it was patently obvious that no human could stand against the man-lion hybrid.
Leon took a step towards the marine.
And the next thing, he was lying flat on his back about ten feet away.
Nathaniel had moved so fast that Brett had been unable to see exactly what had happened. Such was his speed that it was more of a suggestion of movement than actual movement itself.
Leon grunted, jumped back onto his feet and ran at Nathaniel again. Once again, there was a brief blur of movement and the lion man was on his back.
Leon climbed back to his feet, his movements slower than before but his face still a snarl of anger.
Nate shook his head. ‘No.’
Leon growled and charged.
This time Nathaniel stepped forward into the charge, smashing his open palm into Leon’s massive chest and propelling him back, lifting him off the ground to send him thumping to the floor. Then Nate walked over to Leon’s prostrate body, grabbed his mane and lifted him up. He punched him once in the face, a short chopping blow that sounded like an axe hammering into a tree trunk. Leon’s head lolled to one side as he slipped into unconsciousness. Nate let go of him, allowing him to fall to the ground. Then the marine knelt down and rolled Leon onto his side, putting him into the recovery position, checking his breathing was clear and his pulse was strong.
He stood up and looked at Brett who had a slightly nervous expression on her face.
‘Get him a blanket,’ said Nate. ‘We wouldn’t want the stupid lummox to freeze to death, would we?’
Brett ran to their supplies and dug one of the packs out of the snow where they had hidden them. She rummaged through it, took out a rough horse blanket and spread it over their unconscious friend. Then she looked to Nate.
‘What now?’
‘Nothing,’ said Nathaniel. ‘We wait for our comatose friend here to wake up and then we leave. I told you, we don’t kill women and children.’
‘But what are you going to do with Leon?’
‘I don’t need to do anything. He’ll be fine. Well, he’ll have a bit of a headache but that will clear up in an hour or two, he’s pretty tough.’
‘But you fought each other.’
‘Yep,’ agreed Nathaniel. ‘And now that’s over.’
Brett looked puzzled.
Nate grinned. ‘It’s man stuff,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Brett snorted. ‘Oh, man stuff. Why didn’t you just say so in the first place. Goldarn it, I wonder if you could be any more condescending. I’m amazed you didn’t tell me not to worry my pretty little head about it.’
Nate’s grin dropped. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.’
‘Well. To be honest with you, I don’t really understand all of the macho crap that’s going on but that still doesn’t give you license to talk down to me.’
‘I said sorry.’
‘Apology accepted.’
There was a low groan from Leon who sat up, shook his head and looked around, his face a picture of bafflement.
‘Man,’ he grunted. ‘Feel like I been kicked in the face by a horse.’
‘You’ll live,’ said Nate.
‘Yeah,’ agreed the lion man. ‘Reckon I will.’
He climbed to his feet, walked over to Nate and held his hand out. The marine took it and they shook firmly.
‘So, Boss,’ said Leon. ‘Want me to get the horses saddled up?’
Nate nodded. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem,’ countered Leon as he proceeded to dig out the rest of their supplies and lay them out. Then he saddled the horses.
Brett and Nate mounted up and, with Leon running next to his horse as usual, they rode off into the night, heading away from the Untouchables’ camp.
Chapter 19
Nate held the telescope up to his eye and adjusted the focus bringing the huge airship into sharp relief, even though it was many miles away. It was too far away to make out the complete name on its fuselage although he could make out the word, Lostvega.
‘What’s that doing out here?’ He mumbled.
‘It’s on its way to someplace else,’ commented Leon.
‘Where?’
‘How should I know? Probably Sanfrisco.’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘It’s a Lostvega airship. So it stands to reason that, if it was traveling from Lostvega to Sanfrisco it would be flying in a straight line. That would place it many miles to the North of here. There’s no reason for it to be here, in the middle of the blight. Makes no sense.’
‘Who cares?’ Said Leon.
‘I do,’ quipped Nate as he continued watching the dirigible.
‘Let’s get going,’ countered Leon. ‘Places to go and all that.’
Brett mumbled her agreement.
&
nbsp; ‘Wait,’ replied Nate. ‘Something’s happening. They’re dumping something. Some sort of liquid.’
‘They’re always doing that,’ countered Leon. ‘Ballast tanks. They dump water when they want to rise.’
‘It’s not water,’ observed Nate. ‘It’s bright orange. Also, they’re not rising, just trawling along, straight and level and dumping that stuff out.’
‘Look, boss,’ interrupted Leon. ‘Seriously now, who cares? So they’re dumping some sort of crap into the blight. Doesn’t affect us, doesn’t affect anything or anyone.’
‘Except the mutants,’ observed Nathaniel. ‘And the blight.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Leon. ‘Except them. So let’s go. It’s a mystery that we don’t need to answer. Let’s move ass and collect our gold.’
Nate replaced the telescope in his saddlebag. ‘You’re right,’ he conceded. ‘Just curious, that’s all.’ He scowled to himself and then heeled his mount and the three of them set off at a trot.
In the far distance, Ethan Thomas pushed his conscience to one side and continued with his mission.
And above them all the pulse light spread and receded as it waltzed across the heavens in its never ending dance of pulsating colors.
Chapter 20
The ‘Lostvega Leviathan’ had docked some three days before, but instead of the usual twenty four hour turnaround, she was still moored up. This was due to the fact that the number two boiler had developed pressure problems on the last trip. A problem that Ethan put down to his lack of sufficient crew members available to oversee his beloved ship properly.
So, in a departure from his usual tradition of staying on his ship when docked in a foreign port, Ethan had disembarked to walk the streets of the citadel of Sanfrisco. And, in an even bigger break than ever before, he had actually entered a public drinking establishment. The seedy, down-market ‘Harbor Inn’, chosen merely due to its proximity to the docks and his precious airship.
Now he sat alone at the bar. In front of him a bottle of pepper flavored soya vodka. It was prime quality, triple distilled and very high in alcohol content. It was also just over two thirds empty.
If a man drinks enough he can forget, at least for a while. But, after almost a bottle of hard spirits, Ethan was finding that some sins cannot be drowned. Some acts are so heinous that they will always float to the top of one’s consciousness, no matter how hard we try to push them under.
He poured another shot into his glass and tossed it back. The vodka went down like water, his throat already numbed by the surfeit of raw spirit that he had already consumed.
He stared at the bottle for a few seconds, his eyes raw and bloodshot. Then he reached out, picked it up, put it to his lips, chugged the last couple of inches, stood up and staggered out of the bar.
He pulled his mask up as he closed the door behind himself and then he simply stood in the dark alleyway, unsteady on his feet, his mind awash with guilt and his senses deadened by alcohol.
He heard a noise. Footsteps running. Turned to look and saw a group of six men bearing down on him. Their clothing ragged, masks worn with age. In their hands a variety of weapons. Coshes and blades.
He knew that they meant to do him harm. They had obviously picked him out by the fineness of his clothing, the sheen on his thigh-high black boots and his long leather coat. Clothes that spoke of units. Finery that shouted out – gold.
In his normal state, Ethan would have taken care of the rag-tag bunch of criminals without breaking a sweat. But in his current state he was barely even capable of walking in a straight line, let alone indulging in serious hand-to-hand combat.
Nevertheless he dragged his cutlass from its sheath and stood with it dangling ineffectually at his side.
The footpads struck him like a wave, crashing into him with clubs and blades flying and flashing in the air.
The last thing that Ethan saw as he fell to the floor was a tall man bearing an axe, who strode into the melee like a force of nature.
And the tall man’s weapon danced in the wavering gas-light, like a raptor on silver wings as it dealt out destruction to the unfortunate gang of miscreants.
Then all went black.
Chapter 21
The room swayed into focus. Strangers’ faces appeared out of the darkness like wraiths at a funeral. Ethan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and flinched at the pain.
Where was he?
Who were these people?
He grimaced and tried harder to deduce what was actually happening. One of the faces obviously belonged to a Genetic. Lion – human hybrid by the look of it. Then a girl. Small. Beautiful.
And a man. Ethan remembered. The axe. The man that had saved him from being beaten to death by the footpads. The captain attempted to sit upright but the room spun and he felt like his head was about to implode. The axe man pushed him gently back down.
‘Just lie there, my friend,’ he said. ‘You’ve been badly beaten. Rest. You’re safe now.’
Ethan closed his eyes. Secure.
And darkness enveloped him like a balm.
***
Ethan spooned some hot soya soup into his mouth and swallowed. His head still ached but he no longer felt as though someone was hitting it with a hammer. His three new friends sat opposite him and watched him eat.
‘Thank you,’ he mumbled around a mouthful of soup. ‘I owe you my life.’
The axe man shrugged. ‘You would have done the same.’
Ethan nodded, finished his soup, stood up from the table and held his hand out. ‘My name is Ethan.’
‘Nathaniel.’
‘Brett.’
‘Leon.’
After they had all shaken hands, Ethan sat down again, leaned back in the chair and surveyed the room. It was large, a double bed, dining table and a couple of occasional chairs. An up market inn. He had no idea which one it was, or even where it was, apart from the fact that he was sure that he was still in the citadel of Sanfrisco.
‘So whose room have I taken over?’ He asked.
Nathaniel laughed. ‘Mine. I shared with Leon last night. Brett kept an eye on you most of the time.’
Ethan nodded at the pretty young woman, acknowledging her care. ‘Thank you.’
‘So where do you hail from?’ Asked Leon.
‘Officially, Lostvega. First fleet. Captain of the Lostvega Leviathan.’
Brett let out a low whistle. ‘You’re Captain Ethan Thomas,’ she stated.
‘Guilty as charged, ma’am. How come you know of me?’
Brett blushed. ‘Everybody knows about the Thomas family,’ she said.
‘I don’t,’ interjected Leon.
‘They’ve Captained airships since the beginning,’ said Brett. ‘And they always have the biggest and the best. The Leviathan is the most kick-ass ship in the whole navy. Bigger, faster, more firepower and heavier lift capacity than any other airship ever made. It’s legendary.’
Ethan smiled. ‘Strictly speaking it’s not the biggest,’ he corrected. ‘The Moby Dick out of Newyork is twelve feet longer and four feet wider. But it’s a cargo vessel, fat, bloated and slow. There’s nothing that’s a match for my girl, twelve mallet guns, three steam harpoons, one million cubic feet of Hydrogen gas for lift, a range of almost a thousand miles without refueling and a top speed of over one hundred knots.’ The airship captain’s eyes gleamed with pride as he spoke of his ship and his serious face lit up like a father boasting about his favorite child’s achievements.
‘Sounds amazing,’ said Nate. ‘We actually saw an airship on our travels recently. We were scouting way out in the blight and spotted an airship in the distance. It was dumping some sort of orange liquid. Tons of the stuff. What was that all about do you reckon?’
Ethan glanced up and to the right, hesitating before he answered. ‘Not sure,’ he said. ‘Maybe a ballast drop?’
‘Why orange?’ Enquired Nate.
The captain shrugged. ‘Perhaps they were cleaning their tanks. Some s
ort of rust inhibitor. Who knows?’
‘Well I’d have assumed that you would,’ insisted the marine. ‘Being a bona fide airship captain and all.’
‘Different ships have different operating procedures,’ answered Ethan. ‘Not my job to know them all.’
‘Fair enough,’ returned Nate. ‘Simply asking out of curiosity. Just seemed a little weird, all the way out there in the middle of nowhere, dumping thousands of gallons of orange stuff across the blight. Anyway – you feeling any better now? How’s the head?’
‘Much better,’ answered Ethan as he stood up and bowed. ‘Again I give you kind people thanks. However, I must be gone as my ship is soon to sail and I am sure that my crew are already looking for me.’ He shook hands once more, picked up his jacket and mask and left the room without a backward glance.
‘Well that was odd,’ ventured Leon. ‘Suddenly he was all go, go. No time for you guys.’
‘He’s a busy man,’ interjected Brett. ‘Places to go and so forth.’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘No, Leon’s right. I mentioned that ship that we saw and he got all defensive. Plus he lied. Still, not our problem. They were probably dumping some sort of toxic waste product. Tell you what, let’s go and get some grub. On me.’
The three gathered their coats and left the room, locking the door behind them.
Chapter 22
Ethan massaged his temples with his thumbs and stared at the piece of writing paper on his desk. Then he lit a stick of sealing wax, dripped it onto the letter and pressed his signet ring into the seal.
‘Torville,’ he called.