*
Eventually, they reached the bottom of the stairs, and found themselves in a gigantic, dimly-lit hangar filled with rusted planes. Nearby, a central flight controller rose from the grey floor. It was a simple piece of tech, with only a keypad and dim screen which displayed the names and stats of the planes.
After placing Kingston on his own unsteady feet, Maloch approached the console and started typing.
“Accessing Hermes class hangar system. Searching for all functional vehicles within the hangar… searching… search complete. One functional vehicle located: a MR5 Hyper-Sonic Jump-Jet, call-sign… Saving Grace. Warning, power and fuel level in selected vehicle nearing zero… Re-routing all power to vehicle and preparing to open hangar doors. Beginning pre-flight checks on the Saving Grace…”
In the distance, a spotlight came to life, illuminating one of the many planes in the dark hangar. The vehicle before them was a six-seater, fully automated, submersible jump-jet. Its original paint job had long since peeled off, leaving a silver skin which gleamed in the faltering light.
Wasting no more time, they hurried toward the jet. Barsch, running alongside Alza, noticed that the faint siren had finally stopped, which probably meant that they had run out of time. Upon reaching the jet, its rear hatch automatically slid open, allowing them to enter its somewhat cramped interior. After strapping Kingston down in one of the rear seats -leather and mahogany- Barsch, Alza and Maloch made their way to the cock-pit.
Just before entering, Maloch stopped and said, “Master Barsch, I thought that I should inform you that I have finally recalibrated my temporal counter. If my data is correct, then we have less than four minutes until detonation.”
Now that he knew exactly how much time they had, Barsch found that he definitely preferred the comfort that came with not knowing. But there was nothing he could do to change that, so he strapped himself into the co-pilot chair and tried to stay out of Maloch’s way.
The re-mech had taken the captain’s chair, while Alza chose a spot behind Barsch. She had not spoken since leaving the hospital, and Barsch felt as though he might not have many more chances.
“Don’t worry!” he said, lying through his teeth, “I’m sure we’ll be out of here in time!”
But Alza did not reply. Perhaps she was thinking that following them had been a bad decision, or perhaps she simply did not fear death. At that time, Barsch did not know which was more unnerving, nor did he care to find out.
He was saved from any more attempts at conversation by Maloch calling out, “Power level… seven percent. Fuel level… eleven percent. Even with the extra power, we have insufficient charge for engine activation. And if we do manage to get into the air, we only have enough fuel for two hours of flight time at minimum speed. However, in order to clear the blast radius, we will need to fly at maximum speed, halving our flight time. Additionally, this jet has a pre-programmed flight path, and I am unable to alter it without seriously compromising the entire system.”
“And the bad luck continues,” thought Barsch, trying to work out how much bad karma he could have accumulated in his short lifetime to justify their poor fortune.
“What are our options?” asked Alza.
“Option, singular. I can provide the necessary start-up power by using up the last of my reserves, but I will need to power down in order to recover. At best estimates, I will be offline for roughly sixteen hours. Do I have your authorisation?”
At that moment, the siren returned, somehow still audible through the layers of rock and concrete. For it to have penetrated so far down, its volume must have been unimaginable. And in addition to the customary wail, a digital voice called out, “One minute remaining until detonation. Complete elimination of Carçus City will commence at the end of the final countdown. For any poor souls still in the city… please prepare to meet your gods.”
“Do it!” screamed Barsch, as the cold voice continued to call out a series of ever-decreasing numbers.
Maloch wasted no time as he plunged his finger into a large port on the dashboard where an ignition key should have gone. Moments later a surge of electricity arced from re-mech to console, resulting in the former falling silent and the later springing to life. The dashboard was suddenly covered in dozens of screens which displayed every kind of stat imaginable, but there was only one that Barsch was interested in.
It read, “Activating engines and disabling brakes.” Behind them, the rear hatch slid closed with an audible thump and the plane started to roll forward on its own. Seconds later, the lights came on, and a long, downward sloping runway was revealed. At its end lay a set of massive steel doors, which were currently sealed. Once they had reached the start of the runway, the jet throttled up, and soon they were rocketing towards the still-closed hatch.
The sheer acceleration pushed Barsch firmly into his padded seat, and the roar of the dual engines only increased as they neared the terminally solid doors. But, in the instant before they became smears on the hangar wall, the doors slid open, revealing another short tunnel which ended in an identical set of doors.
It made no sense, until an errant thought wandered through his mind. “It’s an airlock…” he thought, moments before the hatch behind them slid shut and the one ahead opened, proving him right. The ocean did not hesitate to send a wall of water towards the jet, but by that time they were moving fast enough to punch through. Moments later they emerged into the ocean proper, as a monotonous whine suddenly filled the cock-pit.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.”
The voice was identical to the one which had accompanied the siren, although Barsch did not know how it had managed to follow them into the jet. If Maloch had still been online, perhaps he would have been able to explain the pervasiveness of Carçus’ citywide warning system, but he was not, leaving the mystery unsolved.
Outside, the depths were quickly becoming the shallows as the jet rocketed towards the approaching surface. They broke through without slowing. The empty sky now lay before them, and Barsch had never before been so excited to see nothing at all.
“Four. Three.”
From his position, Barsch was able to glance back towards the city which had tried to kill them and failed repeatedly.
“Two. One. Zero.”
A light blossomed from the centre of the city, quickly enveloping every building, every forgotten corpse, everything within thirty miles of the city. In an instant, the city simply… ceased to exist. The light, now transformed into an awe-inspiring fireball thirty miles wide, began to shrink. In a second, all that remained of Carçus City was a bright orb of light, about fifty feet in diameter, which shone with the intensity of a miniature star.
Suddenly, without warning, it exploded outwards, a massive shockwave racing out from the city that was no more. There was no time to react, not even time to panic. The shockwave raced towards the jet faster than Barsch could follow. The wall of pressure slammed into them with the force of a missile. It buffeted the tiny craft, sending it pin-wheeling through space. Barsch caught a momentary glimpse of one of the engines on fire, before a jolt introduced his cranium to the dash-board.
His last thought before passing out was, “Kingston, Alza, Maloch… be safe…”
End of Part One
Part Two: Journey
Awakening Page 67