by Ste Sharp
‘The team made it out?’
‘No, we have a message from One-eight-seven and Rar-kin. They are returning,’ Ten-ten said, pointing high.
‘What about the others?’ Samas asked and cupped his eyes with his good hand. He could make out a black dot near the top of the dome, which glittered a tint of orange, suggesting the sun was going to set in a couple of hours.
‘One-eight-seven is still young, so its language is developing,’ Ten-ten said. ‘The message was… ambiguous.’
‘Ambiguous?’ Samas turned to face the Lutamek. ‘Are my men safe or are they dead.’
Ten-ten said nothing for a few seconds and Samas assumed it was communicating with One-eight-seven. ‘No confirmation,’ it eventually said.
Samas sighed and glanced at the dot again. ‘We’ll have to plan a rescue mission,’ he said. ‘Delta-Six can take care of himself but the others will need saving and I’m not prepared to leave until they are found – dead or alive.’
The army would be leaving in the morning and he wasn’t prepared to abandon any soldiers. For the army’s sake as much as the individual’s. Having Gal-qadan’s men split off from the group had weakened them enough already and who knew what they would face when they travelled between the domes?
Ten-ten’s head twitched but remained silent.
‘In the meantime, I’ll make sure we’re prepared for tomorrow’s departure.’
‘Yes,’ Ten-ten replied.
Samas strode off and pushed away any thoughts about what Mihran or Li would have done differently. He gave Euryleia a nod as he passed her and one of the new human soldiers, who sat, weapon in hand, as their new situation was explained in the simplest terms possible. Althorn was nervously pacing nearby, chewing on a piece of dried meat. He would be eager to get going across the plain, Samas thought. At the far end of the camp, Mata was using his branch-like arms to lift trunks of weapons and barrels of food onto the new carts, while Olan, Dakaniha and Bowman helped pack and organise the bizarre types of liquid nutrition the Lutamek were extracting from the starships.
‘Nine-five!’ Samas called out. ‘Jakan-tar!’
The two leaders turned and walked towards Samas.
‘Have you heard the news?’
‘Yes,’ they replied.
‘But we must not delay our departure,’ Nine-five said and Samas cast a glance back at Ten-ten, who looked away.
‘Your troops are safe,’ Samas said, ‘so I need to retrieve mine.’
‘It’ll be dark soon,’ Jakan-tar said.
‘I’ll rescue them in the dark if I have to–’ Samas was cut off by a distant, hollow boom.
The group looked to where the grey starship had lifted off the dome cap and was now descending gracefully.
‘So now they’re stuck in the cap?’ Samas asked.
He spotted the small silhouette of One-eight-seven, cruising down through the air. ‘Let’s get some answers,’ Samas said and strode to where the young Lutamek was due to land.
Soldiers of all species joined Samas as One-eight-seven came closer, with the looming shape of the new starship close behind. It carried Rar-kin on one arm and floated down feet first, with the black helium balloon fixed to its shoulders like a parachute.
‘They’ll have to hurry or they’ll be knocked out of the sky!’ Althorn said and pulled his hood up.
As if in response, Samas saw the black balloon shrink and One-eight-seven zoomed towards them at a faster pace, allowing gravity to speed it up. A few soldiers stepped back, but Samas held his place at the front.
‘Where are the others?’ Samas shouted as One-eight-seven made a soft, gliding landing using jets from its feet.
Samas held a hand to his eyes and, by the time the dust had settled, One-eight-seven’s balloon flapped around its shoulders like a black cape. It looked different to the other Lutamek: lithe and gangly like a teenager, Samas thought.
One-eight-seven lowered Rar-kin to the ground then spoke for the first time. ‘We have returned with new information.’
‘Information received,’ Nine-five replied.
While Rar-kin bowed to Jakan-tar in the Sorean manner, the grey block of a spaceship manoeuvred in the sky behind them, turning as it descended to slip into an empty position just a few rows from their camp.
‘We must check the new vessel,’ One-eight-seven said and walked away.
‘Wait!’ Samas shouted and took a step forward. ‘What happened to my men?’
‘We must check the new vessel,’ One-eight-seven repeated.
‘Not now,’ Samas said and looked to Nine-five and Ten-ten, who were walking towards the new ship with the rest of the crowd.
Samas was about to raise his voice and demand an answer but stopped. Patience, he told himself. He walked with long strides, pushing to the front of the throng, and was one of the first to see One-eight-seven tapping on a panel near the rear door identical to the one they’d accessed on the humans’ starship.
With a click and a hiss, the door slid away and shapes appeared from the gloom. Samas squinted as four distinct individuals stumbled out.
‘Now that was a helluva trip!’ Crossley said, slapping John Greene on the shoulder.
Osayimwese was behind them, followed by Delta-Six, who carried a handful of metal slips. He walked straight to Samas and handed them over with a stony look on his face.
‘Mission accomplished.’
*
Gal-qadan and his cavalry were on a water break when the starship detached from the dome cap and floated to the ground. From here the dome was still monstrously big and far larger than the domes they were heading towards.
‘I hope their camp wasn’t in its parking spot,’ Das, the brown, scaly alien said, sitting on the side of one of the carts.
‘I’m sure Mata can deal with it,’ Pod replied with a laugh.
Gal-qadan grimaced and looked away. Other than these two, the soldiers under his command rarely spoke, which suited him well. Most of those who had ridden with him in the dome had remained loyal apart from Dakaniha, who had chosen to stay with the foot soldiers. In addition, he had several Sorean, who had proven their prowess during the Brakari battle, and Isao, the Eastern swordsman who had flitted in and out of existence like a ghost. But Isao remained an enigma, as did Peronicus-Rax. Although there was mutual respect between Gal-qadan and the tall, one-eyed alien after their deal over the weapon in the dome, Gal-qadan knew Peronicus-Rax had his own agenda, so he watched him carefully. He was starting to doubt his stories about ‘the Ascent’ were real after all.
Gal-qadan looked back at the cart, eyeing its contents. He would wait before checking on his newest recruits and hoped he remembered the sequence of buttons he had seen Ten-ten press on One-eight-seven to activate it. A surge of energy rushed through him at the thought of having those two metal warriors under his command, and he took a sip of water to cool his throat and survey the land ahead. There was a dark patch on the horizon. So far, they had followed Peronicus-Rax’s directions, which led towards that patch rather than any particular dome. Gal-qadan had asked why but had simply been told, ‘It is the way.’
‘You say we should reach the next marker by sundown?’ Gal-qadan asked.
‘Yes,’ Peronicus-Rax replied.
‘And Das and Pod, you haven’t been this way before?’
‘No,’ they replied in unison, without offering any further information.
Gal-qadan felt the urge to draw his bow and shoot the two scaly rodents off the side of the cart, but he knew their giant alter egos could appear in an instant and flatten him.
‘So be it,’ he said and watched Peronicus-Rax return his water to the half-cart which had allowed him to scoot along at a pace not much slower than the tocka.
As he checked his cache of weapons, Peronicus-Rax cast a glance at the nearest soldiers, as he had done a hundred times before. Watching. He was always watching, Gal-qadan thought.
Then it struck him.
Gal-qadan had finally worked
out what annoyed him about Peronicus-Rax. He was too involved in the group, asking about every soldier before their journey and suggesting other members who could join – even that newcomer, Smith. Riding ability was never mentioned, just prowess and weaponry. It felt to Gal-qadan that the tall alien was collecting his soldiers like he collected the weapons that swung on his belts. Remembering how Peronicus-Rax had used the weapons as bargaining chips with the gang of thugs at the silver gates, Gal-qadan felt the cold realisation that he was being used.
*
John drank from the metal tube Althorn handed him and winced at the bitter taste. He gulped down what he could stomach, forcing the liquid down his throat without it touching his tongue.
‘It’s better than dying from starvation,’ Althorn said as John gave a fake smile.
‘I know, but I’d rather have a roast chicken any day,’ John said and Althorn’s stomach seemed to growl in response.
‘Best not to think about it,’ Althorn replied and returned the half-empty canister to Lavalle, who was still in charge of supplies.
‘We’ll have to ration these when we start the journey,’ Lavalle said to Samas, who was inspecting the array of containers on the cart.
‘Yes, but we still need empty containers for water and salt,’ Samas replied. ‘This may keep us alive but I need to make sure we have the strength to fight.’
Lavalle nodded back and John walked to where Crossley was regaling a group of soldiers, human and Sorean, with their dome-cap adventures.
‘So I said to Delta-Six, why doesn’t he carry us down one by one? But he looked like he was just going to make a jump for it, then the Synchronisers started–’
‘The who?’ Dakaniha asked.
‘The Synchronisers,’ Crossley said, ‘the creatures who bring the ships in and govern the dome… anyways, they were done with their work so had started cleaning up the corridors and that’s when John said, why don’t we get in the starship?’
Crossley looked over to John, who felt fifty pairs of eyes turn to him. His cheeks flushed. ‘Well, it made sense. It was empty and we knew it would land near the camp.’
A solid hand patted John on the shoulder and he turned to see Lavalle. ‘That was quick thinking, John, well done.’
John looked to the ground. ‘It was nothing, just made sense, that’s all.’
‘So we climbed back up,’ Crossley continued.
‘And the whole cap was empty,’ Osayimwese added.
‘We walked straight into the spaceship like we were catching a bus,’ Crossley said. ‘We sat on the floor and that thing zipped us down here quicker than a flash.’ Crossley pointed at the new starship, surrounded by Lutamek, checking various panels and info-ports.
John turned to see Rar-kin walking with Nine-five and Jakan-tar.
‘Rar-kin!’ Crossley called out. ‘Are you gonna tell us what happened up there? Why’d you leave us in the lurch, hey?’
The Sorean didn’t show any emotion. It looked to its leader, Jakan-tar, who turned and said, ‘A new mission became apparent.’
‘What new mission?’ John asked calmly before Crossley shouted.
‘Rar-kin,’ Nine-five said, ‘would you like to explain?’
Rar-kin stepped forward and looked from soldier to soldier as it talked through what it had seen. ‘When we ascended the dome I noticed anomalies in the curvature of the horizon.’
Crossley raised a finger and opened his mouth but Nine-five lifted its hand to silence him.
‘I explained to Delta-Six, who set his processors to calculate the angle and estimate the size of the planet, but I already had a theory – I just needed to go higher to see for myself.’
‘So you took One-eight-seven and flew up?’ Crossley asked.
‘Yes and One-eight-seven’s readings have confirmed my theory.’
‘Which is?’ John asked, feeling his pulse speed up.
‘We are not on a planet.’
John frowned and looked around at the equally confused faces. ‘Then what are we on?’ John asked.
‘It appears we’re on an immense disc,’ Rar-kin replied.
‘Which are clearly not found naturally in our galaxy,’ Nine-five added.
John imagined a huge coin with scores of domes on the surface, but the image didn’t stick.
‘So you’re saying this whole place was built by someone?’ Crossley asked. ‘So how did they create the atmosphere? And gravity? You can’t just build gravity, you know?’
‘We are well aware of that,’ Nine-five replied. ‘We have sensed a constraining barrier – possibly to restrict spacecraft entering the atmosphere – but we don’t have all the answers yet. However, we do have some information from the data you brought back from the dome cap.’
‘Do you know who brought us here?’ John asked.
‘No,’ Nine-five replied, ‘but we have a greater understanding of how our biological components developed new abilities.’ The great Lutamek held a hand up. ‘Before you ask, no, these changes will continue to work outside the dome and are irreversible.’
*
The next morning, as the great army walked into the expanse between the domes, John couldn’t shake off that night’s dreams. The temperature had dropped again, but they had been sheltered amongst the starships and Ten-ten had set up a low-level dust dome to keep some heat in. Those dreams though… John had been back in the trenches with the rats, the dirty water and the stench of death. Only in this dream, John had his gun-arm, and the soldiers in his trench were a variety of bizarre creatures of every size and colour, animals and robots everywhere. Great shadows loomed over him and, when he finally saw the enemy trench, it was manned by hundreds of the same large, dark-blue creature: General Panzicosta.
John’s gun-arm clicked as he walked with the army and spun shapes in the chamber. The more intricate shapes felt easier to mould now and the muzzle had more manipulative ability. He let the energy fizzle out and took in the mass of human, Sorean and Lutamek soldiers trooping across the red powdery soil with him. Althorn had taken the left flank and Delta-Six was scouting on the right, while several Sorean raced ahead on tocka with Lavalle and Euryleia, behind a vanguard of the fastest Lutamek.
John felt safe.
In the distance, past the carts and swarms of Sorean, John recognised Ten-ten’s shape and made a beeline towards the Lutamek science officer.
‘Ten-ten?’ John called out as he neared.
‘John Greene,’ the metal behemoth replied.
‘I… erm, I’d like to find out more about my gun-arm.’ John shot a glance up at Ten-ten, then looked nervously away.
‘I can scan it for you.’
‘Yes, that would be good, thanks.’ John hesitated then said, ‘Can you scan it when I fire it?’
‘To ascertain the composition of your bullets?’ Ten-ten asked. ‘Yes. Let’s get ahead of the army.’
‘Alright then,’ said John. He tightened his gun-arm to his chest and started jogging away.
‘Allow me.’
‘Woah!’ John shouted as Ten-ten lifted him by the straps and rushed him forward. He let out a yell of excitement like when he’d ridden the tocka; in fact, it was just like riding an invisible horse!
When they were out of range and his feet were back on the ground, John spun a few bullets for Ten-ten.
‘Initiating scanning,’ Ten-ten said and a blue light flickered across what remained left of John’s Lewis light machine gun.
‘Right, here’s a couple of stubby bullets,’ John said as he fired. ‘Followed by some gnarled smashers… and a few long-range snipers.’
A series of dust explosions a distance away in the dirt signalled the endpoint of each shot, proving his gun was still working.
Ten-ten’s light cut out and it stomped over to the impact points.
‘Well?’ John asked, jogging over.
‘Your gun-arm is still changing,’ Ten-ten replied. ‘Partly due to the loss of material and partly due to a recent acceleration even
t.’
John frowned and stared back at the army and dome. ‘Oh! I took a shock when I was in the dome cap, would that be it?’
‘Yes, any excess energy could stimulate the process.’ Ten-ten held out its left palm over the ground and John saw several thorn-thin slivers rise up. ‘The structural change has been minuscule, but material has been lost with each shot.’
Ten-ten twisted its hand around for John to see six shards of white: two short, two ridged and two long and slender.
‘These are your bullets,’ Ten-ten said.
‘But what are they?’ John asked.
‘Fairly crude but densely constructed shards of calcium-encrusted steel.’
‘Calcium?’
‘From the remnants of your arm bone,’ Ten-ten replied. ‘And the steel has been taken from the body of the gun.’
John swallowed, then asked, ‘So if I keep firing these bullets, what’ll happen to my arm?’
‘Eventually the material will be used up.’ Ten-ten started walking again, keeping ahead of the army. ‘But the firing mechanisms will cease to work effectively before all the material is totally depleted.’
‘Right,’ John said, jogging to keep up with Ten-ten.
His eyes drifted to the horizon as he tried to understand. Should he stop using the gun to save his arm? Could the Lutamek fix it? What would it become when it stopped working – a metal stump?
‘New information is coming from the scouts,’ Ten-ten said. ‘I must talk to the leaders.’
‘Okay,’ John replied, ‘thanks for your help.’
John strapped up his gun-arm again and focussed on the domes ahead as he resumed his stride, his feet crunching the sand with alternate sounds of metal and hard leather.
As John walked, his feelings rose to the surface. He felt anxious. Worried. There was a lot to think about, to be concerned about, yet there was nothing he could do. The changes to his arm, walking into unknown territory… he needed to focus. At the core of his emotions lay his determined need to find out why he’d been taken from little Joe, leaving him fatherless – an orphan – facing the world alone for his entire life. John’s gun-arm clicked again, and he pictured the bone being chipped away inside, so stopped, breathed in and let out a deep sigh.