The Karasor

by Philip Hamm

  Quassin grunted, “If you were any smaller, we wouldn’t have been able to find you at all.”

  “Perhaps I should have a flag on the back of my suit...?”

  “That would be an idea,” he pulled his prince into a sitting position and knelt down to check the suit. “You were lucky, this time...”

  “If I’d been lucky, I would have made it to the boat.”

  “If you had weighed more, perhaps you would have.”

  “Did you manage to save the arm we found?”

  “I did,” he showed it to him. “Now, let’s get back to ship so we can have a better look.”

  17 – Gory Kamen

  As they flew the boat back towards the Kyzyl Kum, the Kyzyl Mazhalyk continued to break apart. The main hull split into sections, walls folding inwards, shattering like a house of glass until it was nothing more than a shadow in the vacuum.

  “What a terrible end,” said Narikin.

  Before Quassin could reply, the radio clicked and Kruvak said, “Make your way back as quickly as possible, please: we have company.”

  Quassin asked, “What kind...?”

  “We think it’s the Gory Kamen, out of Larret. She hasn’t seen us yet but she’s heading our way.”

  Sonoba pushed the boat faster. They didn’t have far to go but the Kyzyl Kum was already moving.

  The deck lights blinked off and the bridge went dark.

  Narikin looked around for the Gory Kamen, expecting to see the Taira ship charging towards them, but he could see nothing except the empty volumes of space.

  He said to Quassin, “What will the captain do?”

  “It’s too late to try and run. We’ll hide on the Scarp Rock and hope the iron masks our signature.”

  Just like the old days, he thought, remembering the battle between the rangers and the tsar. Except they were hiding to avoid a war rather than start one...

  They crossed the Exarch threshold and landed on the platform among the bigger launches. Gader ran out to meet them, urging them to hurry inside.

  Narikin was exhausted and Sonoba and Renshi had to help him out of the boat and into the ship. Gader closed the pressure door behind them and turned the red lights back to white.

  “By the Lords,” he said, looking at their suits. “Whatever have you been doing?”

  They were covered from top to toe in black soot. “I fell through the bottom of the ship,” said Narikin.

  Gader looked at Quassin, “And what’s your excuse?”

  “I rescued him.”

  “It’ll take hours to clean this off...”

  The alarm bell began to sound. “All crew to your stations,” said Durgah’s voice.

  “I think cleaning can wait,” said the Sword Master.

  Once he was out of his suit, Narikin climbed the stairs as fast as he could manage. Even without the heavy armour, his legs were weak. He was out of breath by the time he reached the bridge and felt like a lie down on his bunk rather than another shift in the observation dome.

  “Contract the field as far as she’ll go,” Kruvak was saying. “Querl, get us as low to the surface as possible...”

  The lights were off and Narikin stumbled up the last few steps. A solitary red bulb by the monitoring console and the green sweep of the radar were all he had to navigate by. He bumped into Jamadar.

  “Into your seat, quickly,” said the War Master. “Do you have your camera?”

  “Always,” he replied.

  “Good – we’ll need a record of whatever happens next.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “The Gory Kamen is approaching from the north. She’s detected our Exarch signature but we’re hoping she’ll mistake it for the Kyzyl Mazhalyk.”

  Narikin hauled his aching body into the chair. He was disorientated for a moment and then realised they were inside a crater on the surface of the Scarp Rock. As his eyes adjusted, he saw another ship close-by; the long hull of an Enoth cruiser, its castle tilted over at an angle, accelerators lying detached from the sides and decks exposed, picked clean by scavengers. On the great plates of the shields that protected the bridge he saw the outline of a Quelchemon eye.

  He looked up and could see the remnants of Uigur’s ship. It seemed very close – too close in fact.

  He took out his camera and remembered he’d changed the lens. “Jamadar,” he whispered, “I need my long-lens if I’m to get a decent picture.”

  “Where is it?”

  “It’s on my bunk...”

  “I’ll send somebody to fetch it. Keep watching the Kyzyl Mazhalyk...”

  Narikin heard him to speaking to Pelike on the telephone. Meanwhile, he took his camera out of its case. He couldn’t see much but he could feel the soot on its body, slippery like oil. At least the long-lens was guaranteed to be clean, he thought.

  He put on his helmet with the headphones and heard the other observers in the turrets feeding back what they could see: nothing for the moment. Then the aft turret reported a movement to the north-east. A ship was approaching, slowing down.

  Nokodo said, “I can hear a signal, Captain; they’re calling on the Kyzyl Mazhalyk to stand-down and surrender...”

  “They’ll have a long wait,” said Kruvak drily. “Maintain absolute silence, double-check the Exarch disks and keep the lights off; one hint that we’re here and the Gory Kamen will fry us for lunch.”

  The word ‘lunch’ made Narikin feel hungry. He hadn’t eaten much at breakfast. But as he watched the Kyzyl Mazhalyk, thoughts of food disappeared. The Gory Kamen came into view and stopped less than half a mile from the cloudy remains of the wreck.

  Narikin felt a tug on the leg of his over-all and Jamadar handed him his long lens. He fitted it quickly to the body of the camera, put the other lens into his bag and began taking pictures of the Taira warship.

  A movement caught his eye. A shape rose from the Scarp Rock, crossed the reflected light of an asteroid, and then disappeared again.

  “Captain, there’s another ship out here...”

  “Bysen...?”

  “Nothing on radar, Captain...”

  “Are you sure, cousin?”

  “It was brief but I’m certain I saw something...”

  He held up his camera and scanned the darkness, hoping his eyes hadn’t tricked him. He saw another movement, closer to the Taira ship.

  “It’s heading towards the Gory Kamen...”

  The flash was so bright he was almost blinded. Blue lightning exploded inside the Gory Kamen’s Exarch field, jagged spikes leapt from the field to the hull, sparks flew across the iron, crackled along the decks, the turrets and between the keels. The edge of the field glowed a livid green. The masts burst into flames. Smoke began to fill the bubble, turning it opaque until the warship was barely visible.

  He heard the gasps of the bridge-crew and then Kruvak was shouting, “Querl, get us into the fight; take us forward – torpedo tubes ready, turrets prepare to fire...”

  He heard Durgah say, “But Captain, where’s the target?”

  Narikin tried to spot the attacker but without success.

  “Still nothing on radar or the Exarch detector,” Bysen said.

  “Just spray the area; even if we don’t hit anything, maybe we’ll distract them...”

  The field around the Gory Kamen disappeared, the green winking out as the Exarch disks exploded in rows along the bottom of the ship. The smoke held its shape for a moment and then began to dissipate. The fires on the deck were snuffed out.

  The Kyzyl Kum charged into the battle zone. The three forward turrets launched their shells into the void, turning left and right blindly. Torpedoes streaked from the outer hulls, timed to explode a few seconds later.

  In the silent chaos, Narikin spotted a single red spot and a curtain of colours flashed briefly. He shouted, “Portside, 33 degrees, elevation, six degrees...”

  “I can see it,” said Durgah.

  “Light it up...”

  “It’s moving, Captain.
..”

  “Keep on it, Querl...”

  There was a brief glimpse of deeper black against the background; a ship that could have been any size but was definitely neither Taira nor Karasor. The turrets directed their fire towards it and there was another flash of colours. Then it accelerated away, passing the Gory Kamen on its starboard side, running fast towards the south.

  Automatically, Narikin took pictures.

  Durgah said, “Do we follow or try to help the Taira?”

  “We follow,” said Kruvak.

  “But there’s nothing on radar, Captain,” said Bysen.

  “Follow it,” Kruvak insisted.

  “We can’t follow what we can’t see,” said Jamadar.

  There was a long pause. Then Kruvak asked, “Anything on the Exarch detector?”

  “Nothing, Captain...”

  “Our duty is to try and help the crew of the Gory Kamen,” said Durgah.

  Jamadar agreed with him, adding, “They might be Taira but they’re also Pentī...”

  There was another pause and then Narikin heard Kruvak sigh, “All right – Querl, bring us about...”

  The Kyzyl Kum was pointing south, the Gory Kamen was to starboard. Narikin turned his camera towards the Taira ship and took a picture. Through the long-lens, he could see the turrets and the pressure doors were still intact; there had been no explosive decompressions like the Kyzyl Mazhalyk. But the scarring on the hull looked bad; the red, black and white of ship’s camouflage was marked with runnels and lines like the branches of a tree after the leaves have fallen. There were no lights behind the portholes on the officers’ deck and the bridge was dark.

  As they drew closer, Kruvak picked up the telephone and said, “Quassin, prepare a rescue party.”

  Rather than come to a stop, he ordered Querl to circle the Taira destroyer. “If that ship comes back to finish what it started, a moving target will be harder to hit.” Nobody disagreed with him. “Everybody, keep your eyes open - they might be difficult to see but not impossible. And we definitely hit something; we’re not dealing with a ghost.”

  “No,” Jamadar agreed. “But who made her?”

  “Captain, I thought I saw colours when our shells struck her field,” said Narikin.

  “I did too,” said Durgah.

  “A Pavonine generator...?” said Jamadar.

  “I would think so,” Kruvak agreed.

  “Tsar technology...?”

  “Yes,” he said and the bridge went quiet for a moment.

  “But there are other empires that use them,” said the War Master. “Quill and Saron ships, for instance - we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”

  “But what are Saron or Quill ships doing this far north?” said Durgah. “And why are they attacking us?”

  “A ship is a ship,” said Kruvak. “If we’re dealing with pirates, they would know we can detect an Exarch field. Acquiring a Pavonine generator wouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “But that weapon,” said Jamadar.

  “No – that’s something new.”

  “Not the kind of thing a pirate would come up with,” said Durgah.

  “And why would a pirate want to reduce their quarry to ash?”

  Quassin and his rangers left the Kyzyl Kum on board four of the large launches. Narikin saw them speed towards the Gory Kamen and waited impatiently, along with the rest of the crew, for news. Over the radio, they could hear the Sword Master directing his people to different airlocks on either side of the main hull, fore and aft.

  “Take care,” said Kruvak. “They may think we’re trying to take the ship rather than offering assistance. Nokodo, any response to our calls?”

  “Nothing, Captain – but their antennae may have been damaged.”

  “We’re knocking on the doors,” said Quassin.

  “Is the hull intact?”

  “It would seem to be – there’s extensive electrical damage on the surface but nothing to indicate the internal atmosphere has been lost except perhaps on the lower decks where the disks have exploded.”

  “Proceed with caution, Quassin...”

  As the Kyzyl Kum circled, Narikin could see the holes underneath the Taira ship where the Exarch disks had been. There would be as little internal gravity as they had encountered on the Kyzyl Mazhalyk. But the pressure doors between the decks would have prevented their air from escaping, he hoped - unless they’d been left open for some unfathomable reason.

  “Entering now,” said Quassin.

  There was a long pause.

  “Dear lords...”

  “What is it? What do you see?”

  “It’s carnage in here, Captain...”

  There were cries of alarm from all four of the rescue teams as they made their way inside the Gory Kamen and saw the damage caused by the lightning weapon. In the confusion, Narikin heard the words ‘burnt’, ‘electrocuted’ and ‘dead’. Kruvak called them to order so Quassin could summarise what they were seeing.

  “The iron frame conducted the current, Captain – they didn’t stand a chance.”

  “It couldn’t have struck everywhere, Quassin; make your way further in...”

  “Yes, Captain, but I’m not hopeful - the walls are covered in burn-marks; rivets must have been popping like bullets and they’ve shredded the crew to pieces. It’s chaos in here...”

  Narikin tried not to imagine the scene. He looked away from the Gory Kamen and focussed on the darkness around them, hoping he would spot the phantom ship before it could strike again.

  “I’m making my way up to the bridge...”

  “Captain, shouldn’t we have some evidence of what the weapon can do – some pictures of the interior of the ship?” said Jamadar.

  Narikin didn’t want to be the one to take them but he felt obliged to offer, “I could suit-up again and take a boat...”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Not really...”

  “I don’t blame you but I agree, it would be useful to have images.”

  “I’ll go,” said the War Master. “Narikin, show me how to use your camera.”

  Narikin climbed down and followed Jamadar to the deck below so they could turn on the light and he could show the War Master how his camera worked. He changed the lens and made sure there was enough film too. “It’s pretty simple,” he said. “Turn this ring to focus the image and then press this button. Wind the film on with this lever. It’s difficult in gloves but I managed so I’m sure you can.”

  Reluctantly, he handed his precious camera over.

  Jamadar smiled. “I’ll take good care of it,” he promised.

  Narikin got back to his post just as Quassin reached the bridge of the Gory Kamen. He was in time to hear him say, “Their captain is dead, along with his senior officers. There’s a breach in the glass; if they weren’t electrocuted, they would have suffocated...”

  He saw Jamadar leave the Kyzyl Kum and head towards the Taira ship. He realised, even though he wouldn’t be taking the pictures, he would have to develop them. The photographs of the dead adults and children on Tenrec had been bad enough. But these were Pentī – his people...

  The rangers spent an hour searching the Gory Kamen for survivors but found nobody alive. Eventually, Kruvak called them back to the Kyzyl Kum. “We should have gone after their attacker,” he said. “This has been a waste of time. When the launches have returned, I want us to set course for the south and see if we can find them again.”

  “They’ll be long-gone,” said Durgah.

  “Maybe – but if they’ve chosen the Meros as their hunting ground, they may not have gone far.”

  “The chances of spotting them by accident are billions to one...”

  “But if they attack another ship, we’ll see the lightning for sure. It was brighter than a star.”

  Durgah sighed, “It’s still unlikely we’ll get to them in time and even if we do, we cannot track them on radar.”

  “We have to try, Durgah.”

  18 – T
he phantom ship

  Narikin developed the photographs he and Jamadar had taken and as he’d anticipated, the ones of the interior of the Gory Kamen were far more shocking than the scenes on Tenrec. He found them unbearable to look at. Though they were only black and white, they were too much for him to cope with and he wished somebody else could have taken over.

  The Taira crew had been ripped to apart by rivets and splinters from the metal frame of their ship. High-energy bolts had burnt their flesh to cinders. He could see their blood floating in the corridors, along with limbs, eyes, intestines and other body parts. Most of them had not died instantly; their faces were contorted with pain as they suffered multiple hits from shrapnel or were caught in the full force of the electrical waves running through the decks. It must have been the worst experience imaginable; no escape, no relief and nothing but death to release them.

  When he was finished, he left the photographs to dry and lay down on his bunk for a while. He was more tired than he had ever been in his life but the last thing he could do was sleep. Instead, he stared at the ceiling and tried not to see the rivets in the beams as potential bullets or imagine the sparks flying off the metal. He tried to meditate. He thought of home, of the island of Kimidori, the palace and the gardens. He pictured the blossom on the trees and the water lapping on the shingle beach. He remembered the faces of people he loved; Amah, Chikutei, his sisters, his mother and even his father. He could see Tosa, lying on the veranda of the potting shed, slobbering on the floor, with his miniature trees behind him. He imagined the door of his workshop was open and saw his calligraphy on the walls.

  But the images of the dead Taira kept coming came back to him. He saw their faces, twisted and burnt, lips pulled back, teeth exposed and eyes squeezed shut as they died in terrible pain. He could almost hear their screams and covered his ears, tried to press the agony out of his head.

  There was a knock on his door and Jamadar entered.

  “You should not be on your own,” he said.

  “I’ve just finished developing the film...”