by Paul Kidd
Forty kilometers?
The razorbacks would take two hours to cross the distance galloping, three hours at a hard trot. Their arrival time depended on just how psychotic they felt.
There was no sign of any wind. No sand drifted from the dunes. The place felt as still and hot as an oven. Thrashing her tail in dissatisfaction, Xoota looked once more at the sky, hoping for a telltale trace of wind. She finally slid down a backstay and landed with a thump upon the deck.
Wig-wig, not blessed with wonderful distance vision, clustered around her for news. “Be they gone?”
“No, I see them. About forty K back on our trail.” Budgie was sitting down in the hold, making free with the supplies of goober nuts. Xoota dismissed the idea of having the lazy avian bastard tow the entire ship. “Never mind. The wind should pick up in an hour or two.”
Greatly relieved, Wig-wig hastened off to attend to Shaani. Meanwhile, Xoota replenished her stock of crossbow bolts and made sure the catapult bombs were ready.
There was nothing to do except to watch the wind meter and curse. Benek assembled his arms and armor, sharpened his sword, and walked up and down the deck in confidence. Xoota thrashed her tail, always keeping an eye on the wind. From time to time, she clambered all the way up the mainmast and watched the enemy slowly closing in.
The dust cloud was following right up along the Sand Shark’s tracks. After an hour, the cloud had halved the distance to the ship. Xoota managed to catch one glimpse of dark figures crossing a sand hill; razorback battle riders, fanned well out around a krunch wagon pulled by far too many cockatoos.
They were coming on hard and fast.
The quoll stalked along the deck. Benek was sitting stiff-backed in the shade, playing his computer game with intense concentration. Xoota cleared her throat.
“Benek, you feel any decent alphas coming on today?” The quoll wriggled her shoulders. It was as if some sort of mental power were brewing briefly in her skull. It was a shame the claws had gone; those had been fun. “You know, any mutations for combat?”
“I am a genetically perfect human.” The man kept his eyes on the game. “I do not experience ‘alpha mutations.’ ”
That was a shame. They might have found something that remodeled his personality from scratch. Xoota stroked her long whiskers and peered down at the computer game. “This is your training aid?”
“There appears to be something odd happening. The mutants in this game somehow now register high score.” He pondered. “Initials have appeared on the high score chart. ‘G.I.A.N.T.’ I wonder if it might be some sort of sign?”
“Well, these things happen.” Xoota nodded. “Stay sharp. Those razorbacks are closing in.” The quoll wrinkled her nose in thought, then poked her head into the sleeping cabin. She whispered to the nearest earwig. “Psst. Wig-wig.” Xoota cocked her head. “G.I.A.N.T.?”
“Greatest Insect of All Nature and Time.” Wig-wig was carefully arranging a cool, wet cloth on Shaani’s forehead. “Is me.”
“Thought so.”
Xoota paced back and forth on the decks. Still the wind refused to come. The quoll kicked at a backstay then stomped into the empty control cabin. She went so far as to peer at the furry dice hanging from the windscreen. Xoota made sure that the control cabin door was closed and sidled up to the dice, clearing her throat.
“Look. A bit of wind, needed now. Not an option.” She pointed a commanding finger at the dice. “Right?”
The ship gave a creak. Suddenly the air conditioner began to blow cool air. Xoota froze. Then her antennae perked up as she heard the sound of the sails cracking in the breeze.
“Yes.” She kissed the fuzzy dice. “Thank you.”
A quick peek on deck showed nothing but good news. The razorbacks had closed to ten kilometers away and were racing to close the gap at full speed. But the sails were no longer hanging limply. They were swelling, growing tighter and tighter. The little cups of the wind meter began to spin fast and steady at the mainmast. Xoota gave a grin.
“All right. Stand by to roll.”
The ship heeled a little in the breeze, the springs creaking. Xoota happily yanked off the hand brake and flung herself into the control chair. She gripped the steering wheel, ready to roll.
Nothing happened.
The ship creaked but didn’t move an inch. Nothing seemed to be happening. Xoota yanked the hand brake on and off again and pumped at the foot pedal. The ship creaked and leaned in the wind but never budged.
Xoota cursed long and hard, blistering paint off the walls with her tongue. She messed around with the brakes one more time then ran out on deck to see what the other idiots had done to the damned sails. She expected some sort of moronic activity, but the sails were all properly set and drawing. The ship actually began heeling too far over to starboard. Xoota dropped the staysail and had Benek take down the mizzen.
“Why the hell aren’t we moving?”
Xoota leaned over the railings and looked at the wheels. The starboard side was perfectly clear; all was well. But on the port side …
The port lead wheel was half buried in sand.
“Son of a Blaash.”
The ship was bogged.
The press of sail was only digging the tire in deeper, pushing down and driving her into the sand. Xoota tried to think how to free the ship. Dig it out? That would just make the hole deeper. Tow her? She tried to imagine Budgie, Benek, and herself having enough muscle power to move the entire ship and wilted.
Damn.
Minute by minute, the razorbacks were drawing closer.
Shaani would know what to do. Xoota ran past Benek and into the sleeping cabin. The rat girl was still lying asleep on the floor, tended by the conscientious little earwig swarm.
Xoota hated to do it, but she had to awaken Shaani. She stroked her face, her hands insistent, trying to be gentle. “Shaani? Shaani, wake up. I need to talk to you.”
The rat blinked. She drew in a breath and turned a little green. She swallowed and tried to focus her eyes. “My head hurts.”
“Shaani. The ship is bogged. Razorbacks are closing in.” Xoota helped her friend lift up her head. “Shaani, tell me you knew this could happen. How do we un-bog the ship?”
“The ship …?” Shaani screwed up her eyes, trying to concentrate. “Which wheels? All of them?”
“Left—ah, the front port wheel.”
Shaani closed her eyes, clearly wanting to go back to sleep. “Just one wheel, easy … Shift ballast to the stern. Should lift the wheel out. And … reverse out of the … soft … dirt … thing.”
“Shift the ballast.” Okay, that could be done. The water was … Actually, doable. There was an empty tank at the back of the ship. She could run a siphon hose between the tanks.
How to reverse the ship?
“Shaani, how do we reverse the ship?”
“Reverse the electric engines.”
“We’re out of power.”
“No power?”
“All gone. And there’s no wind for the little wind generators.”
The white rat tried to rise but was too dizzy to do more than sit up in bed. “Get my … chainsaw. Top the tank with water. You can run a power wire from the chainsaw’s outlet to the capacitors.”
She started drifting off again. Xoota tried to keep her awake.
“How long? Shaani? How long will the chainsaw need to charge the battery?”
“Oh, a long time …” Shaani sighed. “Hours.”
She licked her lips. Wig-wig gave her cold peach tea to drink. The rat swallowed gratefully and rested her head back on her pillow.
“The planks on the starboard side of the hull. Unpeg them. Pull them off. Use them beneath the bogged wheels.” She had thought of everything. “QED.”
Xoota dropped Shaani’s wet cloth back on her forehead, pushed her back into bed, and left her with the bugs. The quoll ran off to see to the ship.
“Benek. There’s work to do.”
She dropped
the rear ramp and fetched Budgie, some coils of rope, and a folding shovel. The dust from the approaching razorback horde could be seen from the ground. Xoota found a hose and shoved one end of it into the main water tank. She sucked on it to drag water up and start it siphoning into the rear tank over the ship’s back wheels.
“Benek.”
He was up on the deck, standing proud and ready to fight, the ultimate peak of genetically perfect manhood, ready to take on the mutant hordes face-to-face. Xoota glared up at him.
“Benek, we’re getting out of here. Pull the pegs on the port upper side planks and let the board drop down here to me.”
Water was shifting to the back of the ship, and the board was finally on its way. Xoota tried to ignore the onrushing wave of enemies and simply set to work. Benek lowered her a solid wooden plank. Xoota dragged the thing awkwardly over to the front wheel. She dug away soft sand and struggled to ram the board beneath the bogged front tire.
The ship’s stern was pointing downhill. If they could just get her rolling back and forth a little, the front wheel should ride up out of the damned hole it had dug for itself. Xoota fitted on Budgie’s harness and saddle, looped a rope to the saddle horn, and tied the other end of the rope to the rear axle.
Benek and Wig-wig came running down the rear ramp. The human glowered. “What are you doing?”
“Working us free.” The quoll had everything in hand. “Right. Benek, we need you up front at the front wheel. We’re going to rock her back and forth. Once she rolls free, go up the access ladder and into the control cabin. We need you at the wheel. Steer us back about a hundred meters, put on the hand brake, then set the sails. I’ll be back on board to help.”
“What of the razorbacks?”
“Forget the damned razorbacks.” Xoota raced back to Budgie, wrapped a tow rope around her own arm, and made ready to pull. “All right. Get behind the front wheel and push.”
Budgie lunged against the tow rope, pulling for all he was worth. Xoota hauled on her own rope. The ship barely shifted. She let the rope go slack then heaved again, yelling to Budgie and Benek. They hauled, released, hauled, released …
The ship was hardly moving.
Wig-wig tried to help, holding the ship and whirring his wings. The thought was appreciated at least. Xoota heaved again and again. Each time they pulled, the ship shifted just a little then rolled back into its hole. The water was slowly shifting to the back of the ship. They pulled, released, pulled, released. Each time, the Sand Shark rocked just a little more. But she poised just short of being able the lurch out of the hole. Time and time again, she teetered on the brink and failed.
Xoota’s boots slipped and slithered in the sand. Budgie hurtled himself into action. Benek put his back against the front axle and shoved, his huge muscles bulging. But the ship refused to make the last, tiny shift. Xoota heaved, her whole body straining, the muscles of her legs on fire as she tried to make her ship shift the last few precious centimeters.
There was a sudden surge of power from the wheels. Sand spurted from under the tires, and the ship started to move. Budgie and Xoota flung themselves against the tow ropes, and suddenly the ship was rolling. Xoota cast off the tow ropes, hauling Budgie aside as the ship slowly started to roll past.
Shaani was on her knees on deck, holding an electric cable. There was a sharp smell of ozone and a blue crackle coming from the rat’s body. She must have generated her own power surge and fed it to the engines. Wig-wig swirled up to help her as Shaani collapsed to the deck.
A spear whipped past Xoota and plunged into the ground nearby. The quoll ran, scooping up equipment and hurling it onto the ship. The Sand Shark moved slowly onward as the razorbacks reloaded their artillery.
Xoota looked around. Twenty razorbacks were thundering toward the ship on cockatoo back. The ship rolled slowly downhill—closer and closer to the charging pigs.
Xoota bellowed up toward the decks. “Raise sails! Raise sails!”
The wheels squeaked as the hand brake came on. There were too few crew members to do too many jobs. Benek came on deck, reaching for his crossbow.
Xoota yelled up to him in command. “No firing! Raise the damned sails!”
The foremast winch was working slowly—too slowly. It had to be Shaani, still trying to help. Xoota mounted Budgie, ignored the ship, and charged straight toward the razorback hordes.
She was a rider and a shooter, and she was good. Budgie sped along the sands, faster and smoother than the raucous cockatoos. The razorbacks spread out, fumbling for bows. Budgie swerved and ran sideways along the front of the onrushing enemy.
Xoota made an attack run. Budgie galloped, neck flat, his blue feathers gleaming. Xoota stood in her stirrups, effortless and beautiful; tracked a target; and fired. A razorback screamed and fell. Budgie did as he was trained to do, swerving and weaving. Return fire missed, landing either too short or too far. Xoota worked the loading handle on her crossbow, gears clanking as she winched the string back into place. Her bow pulled a hundred and sixty kilos. At that range, it was lethal. She slapped in a bolt, moving with practiced speed. Feeling her rise to fire, Budgie raced straight and true, giving her a firing platform. Xoota aimed and pulled the trigger. The crossbow bolt flew so swiftly, it was almost invisible. Another razorback flew backward into the dust. Return fire arced in Xoota’s direction, but the bows were weaker than her crossbow, and the shots were easily dodged.
The razorbacks veered away from the ship, charging vengefully toward Xoota. She swerved, galloping fast, working her cocking lever until the gears had cocked the bow. She ducked and dodged an arrow shot. Budgie sawed hard left, left again, then right, his patterns random and fast. He stabilized as Xoota found her moment, stood in the stirrups, and turned in the saddle. She fired straight back into her wake. The bolt smacked into a razorback, striking sparks as it burst through its heavy armor and right out through its back. The razorback reeled, roaring, the cockatoo hitting another bird and spreading chaos in the ranks. Xoota was already reloading, moving faster than the heavy war pig cavalry, keeping them in play.
The ship was moving.
The sails had filled. Someone had her steering hard over, moving along the mid slope of the hill, where the wind was strongest. It had to be Shaani; Benek would never be so clever. But the ship was moving painfully slowly. She gathered speed but it was taking her too long.
Xoota felt Budgie swerve again. Arrows flashed past her in the dust. She hauled Budgie off to the right, stood, and fired again. She saw her shot as it struck a razorback’s shield and punched clean through. The razorback reeled, snarling, but stayed in the saddle, ravening and cursing.
Wig-wig came swirling overhead. Clusters of the biggest earwigs were carrying pipe bombs, the fuses fizzing dangerously short. They flew over the razorback charge, dropping the bombs. Explosions detonated on the sands. A single war pig fell. The rest fought rearing, swerving mounts. Earwigs swirled around Xoota and Budgie, urging them to head up to the hill.
“Xoota, come on board; be quick.”
The ship was moving slowly sideways along the hill, climbing toward the crest. She had enough momentum to make it across. But another enormous spear from the krunch wagon whipped through the air. It hit the ship low and to the rear of the hull. The sound of the impact made Xoota’s heart catch in her chest.
The ship sailed on.
She kicked Budgie into a gallop. He ran straight and fast.
Wig-wig passed her, heading for the razorbacks to dive and swerve at their cockatoos, making the birds balk. He slowed their charge. Xoota raced to the ship. The rear ramp was down, scraping on the dirt.
The ship tilted slowly, slowly over the crest of the hill. Another spear from the krunch wagon flew past her, hitting the starboard railing and sending splinters flying. Then suddenly the ship was away over the crest, her sails and masts still visible, moving more and more quickly as she rolled downslope. Budgie raced to intercept her, crossing the hillcrest with feathers flying
. The ship was starting to really roll, faster and faster. Her sails cracked as they filled to a steady breeze. The budgerigar put on a mad spurt of speed and raced to catch up.
Budgie was tiring. The ship was pulling ahead. Suddenly the ship jerked, slowing; the masts whipped forward as the brakes came on hard. Budgie reached the ramp and flung himself on board, screeching to a halt inside the hold.
A giant razorback spear has gone clean through the hold. Water was gushing from a punctured water tank. Xoota leaped from Budgie’s back. Wig-wig raised the ramp while Xoota raced to rescue the water supply.
The siphon was still pouring water from the fore tanks into the rear. The rear tank was hemorrhaging water straight out onto the sands. Xoota ripped the siphon hose free. It was too late to save the water that had already been shunted between the tanks; the last of it gurgled out into the desert even as Xoota tried to jam shut the hole.
Damn.
She raced up on deck. Benek was on the catapult. He fired a useless round up over the hill, the explosion of the bomb loud and violent in the desert. He had wasted a bomb for nothing. No razorbacks came across the hill. The way ahead was flat and featureless desert. The wind blew steadily in from the west. The ship headed northeast, leaning to the breeze as she hummed off across the hard-packed sand.
Xoota saw Benek reloading the catapult. Hot, out of breath, and still fizzing with adrenaline, she ran past him. “Stop that. Secure the catapult.” The quoll yelled across her shoulder. “Set staysail and forestay.” She raced into the control cabin.
Shaani was driving. A bloody bandage was wrapped around her head. She slumped over the wheel, in no shape to be up and out of bed. She saw Xoota and reeled back in the driving seat, looking thankful. “Are you all right?”
“I’m intact, which is more than I can say for you.” She felt Shaani’s head. She was clammy and unwell. “I can take the helm.”
Shaani let herself be lifted out of the seat. “I’ll sleep here. There’s room on the floor.”
“Just as long as you rest. Are you okay?”