by Ste Sharp
The guard spat a globule of yellow gunk onto the ground and touched the card on his device.
‘Ha!’ he shouted and his comrades joined him. ‘So they’re letting stinking farmers in these days, are they?’
‘Not a chance,’ the Bensha said and unclipped his sword.
‘I can pay,’ Delta-Six said with a tired, rasping voice.
‘The Ascent don’t give credits to guards, so we can’t be bought,’ the Bensha growled. ‘But there’s nothing to stop us giving you a good kickin’!’
Delta-Six held his hand out again, this time with three silver coins on his palm.
‘I offer you freedom,’ he said.
The three crowded round.
‘What is it?’ the hairy one asked.
‘It turns off your neck pin,’ Delta-Six answered.
‘Give it,’ the Bensha said and grabbed a coin.
‘It fits on the pin,’ Delta-Six said, pointing to the back of his neck.
But rather than fit it to his own, the Bensha grabbed the tall guard and stuck the disc on his pin, then pushed him away and pulled out his device.
‘Only one way to test it,’ he said and pressed the button.
The tall guard gasped and Delta-Six held his breath… but nothing happened.
Delta-Six exhaled slowly.
‘Looks like we’re free,’ the hairy one said as he and the Bensha took their coins. ‘What are your plans, Lucien Thomas?’
‘To see the tower,’ Delta-Six replied. ‘Before I die.’
The tall guard stared at him for a long second then said, ‘Should we? I don’t believe him.’
‘And I don’t care – we’re free!’
‘But the leaders…’
‘Screw ’em. Let’s go and fight!’ the Bensha shouted and ran off to the arena, taking the other two with him.
Delta-Six shook his head and strode through the empty gate, into the inner ring of the Ascent city. Here, a host of well-constructed metal buildings sprawled out in even blocks, all overseen by the immense, glistening tower. He’d never been this close so, when he’d walked past the first row of buildings, he set his analysis systems to work on the stone within and its true purpose.
It was stunning.
‘YOU!’
A voice made him turn.
‘Lucien Thomas,’ Delta-Six replied to a species he hadn’t seen before.
It reminded him of a stick insect he’d seen during his humidity training in the tropics. Non-poisonous and inedible, yet it had held his fascination during his camouflage test.
‘You are not a chosen species and you have no chaperone,’ it stated.
‘I have come to see the tower before I die,’ Delta-Six replied.
The tall, long-limbed creature clacked and glowed an orange colour. Delta-Six’s systems detected a surge of energy and reported huge spikes in life-threatening readings: heat; radioactivity; q-pulse; photons; infrared. Delta-Six held his arm to shield himself as a blast hit him, burning and saturating his systems. The blast continued to rage, switching currents and phases as Delta-Six’s shields depleted fast. His thoughts were slowing too, so he initiated his fight hormones and hardened the outer shell of his suit.
‘You are not what you seem,’ the Ascent soldier said after letting the beam fade out.
Delta-Six cast aside what was left of his chamelo-cloth and stood tall as the creature advanced on its stick-thin legs.
Delta-Six sent stored energy to his weapons. His mind was quick, shutting down a cyber-attack and studying his enemy for weaknesses: joints; eyes; feeding parts. Either this alien was endowed with an array of adaptations, or it had help. A flash of movement picked up on his sensors suggested the latter, so Delta-Six waited for one more step then fell into a series of rolling shots at the tall soldier, who deflected each shot. Delta-Six signalled his system to attack at will and re-routed power to his propulsion system. If it got any worse, he could always fly straight up to escape.
Missiles blasted out of shoulder pads and lasers tore from his wrists as Delta-Six made evasive movements: rolling; dashing; sidestepping. Warning lights flashed around his vision as the other soldiers revealed themselves. He made another feint, and fired a looping shot, mimicking Bowman’s arrows. Another roll and his enemy exploded, scattering its limbs and tubular head across the ground.
Delta-Six powered his jets and lifted off the ground as the new soldiers opened fire and more warriors streamed from the buildings. That was close, he thought, and felt a tug on his left leg. Something had him in an energy hold – a yellow line twisted round his ankle, pulling him back down.
‘No!’ he shouted, firing off his last missiles and shooting pulse blasts at the soldiers below.
Delta-Six fought on as his energy depleted and he descended into the growing mass of enemy soldiers. His warning lights blinked out and he tried to force the white energy through his system again, but there wasn’t enough power. The jet on his back coughed a few times and stopped as a laser pulse ripped into his leg, freeing him from the yellow-energy hold, but sending him spiralling out of control.
With his remaining power, Delta-Six directed his flight towards the tower. More shots tore into his body, past his non-existent shielding and straight into his torso as he tumbled over the final set of metal fencing and towards the base of the tower. He tried to redirect his jets to slow his descent but, with a bone-breaking crash, he hit the ground in the ring of no-man’s-land, where no faction could tread without joint permission.
Pain screamed through his body and his breathing was laboured as he lay on his back. But his view was clear, straight up the side of the crystal tower. No warning lights or messages. He didn’t need them.
This was it.
He would die now.
Distant sounds pulled at his attention but Delta-Six was transfixed by his view. The shining tower loomed into the sky above like an immense rocket. Or a road. It led his eyes up and away.
Now, he felt the deepest, most protected program in his system set to work. Delta-Six’s view merged with a view of a verdant landscape, which eventually took over his sight. Children were playing in the warm sun with a retro-dog and dark trees swayed in a breeze. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Delta-Six felt completely relaxed.
‘Lucien Thomas.’ A soft voice spoke his name and he turned to see the woman he’d known all his life.
His dream wife.
‘Welcome home,’ she said with a smile that made his heart skip its final beat.
*
Gal-qadan charged at the nearest group of soldiers with a laser rifle in one hand and a long, saw-edged blade in the other. He was in his element: his blood was hot; his skin was as tough as metal and his enemy had given up their weapons when they had entered the arena. All they had were their biological adaptations.
Some of the enemy diverted to attack a group of Sorean, leaving Gal-qadan with five warriors to face. He shot his rifle from the hip, taking one out and blasting the leg off another, then cast the rifle to the ground and leaped in with his sword held high. One swipe sliced through the shoulder of the first alien, whose claws impotently scraped Gal-qadan’s chest. The second soldier was smaller and pummelled low into Gal-qadan as the third blasted them both with a bolt of heat from its chest.
Gal-qadan picked himself off the ground, casting aside his smouldering top. He felt good: his metal skin was free now, glistening like sword steel in the frost.
‘You’ll have to try harder than that,’ Gal-qadan snapped as he retrieved his sword from the charred remnants of the smaller soldier.
‘Everything has its melting point,’ the bulky, dark-horned creature replied and released another blast of furnace-hot heat.
Gal-qadan rolled, but hadn’t been quick enough to protect his head. Kneeling, he dusted his now bald head off with a handful of dry earth and was rolling away again when another soldier attacked, slicing with the sword, cutting into the aggressor’s rear legs.
‘I will show yo
u the power of the sun,’ the Firestarter said and blasted the soldier Gal-qadan had just cut down. Its screams mingled with the battle cries and explosions from the battle as it fried.
‘And I will show you how day becomes night,’ Gal-qadan said, turning to his opponent.
He dropped his sword and ran straight at him, throwing himself at the next blast of energy bursting from the alien’s chest. Gal-qadan was covered in flame as he dived through the energy blast, straight at the alien, and crashed into him, sending him sprawling. His grabbed the warrior’s scaled neck with both hands and squeezed. Still the energy poured over Gal-qadan, pummelling his chest, sending his clothing up in brilliant flames.
‘Time for night-time,’ Gal-qadan shouted as the alien’s neck grew smaller in his tight hands until, with a snap, he broke the creature’s neck and let its body fall.
The flames stopped.
Naked, and feeling more alive than ever, Gal-qadan stood with one foot on his latest victim, searching the field for the next enemy fighters.
‘Do not underestimate us!’ he shouted.
The nearest soldiers avoided Gal-qadan, giving him time to survey the battle. He caught a glimpse of Olan and Osayimwese on the other side of the gaping hole in the ground where they had trapped the Lutamek. He grimaced as he saw the men mount the tocka.
‘They belong to me,’ he whispered and searched the ground for unused weapons.
But a new sight stopped him in his tracks.
Three glowing orbs were rising from the hole in the ground. Some soldiers stopped to gape in amazement, but most fought on. Gal-qadan felt an axe crash and splinter across his shoulders but he ignored the weak attacker – he only had eyes for the balls of light. Two were orange and slowly faded to reveal the Lutamek eggs he had long coveted, while the third remained white and formed a humanoid shape. When they reached two men’s height above the ground, tiny blue bolts of energy shot out of the two Lutamek, striking soldiers with pinpoint accuracy.
Aliens of all sizes fell at Gal-qadan’s feet as he watched on with no fear. When the shots finished, the only warriors standing were the humans, Sorean and tocka. Everyone else was dead.
The Lutamek eggs drifted down to a bare patch of earth and unravelled to form their biped shapes, followed by the glowing human, who Gal-qadan finally recognised as Isao, the samurai.
The survivors gravitated towards them, weakened but victorious.
‘Next time, do that earlier,’ Gal-qadan said.
Olan laughed and looked him up and down. ‘Long ago, I knew a man who liked to fight naked. Not for me though.’
Gal-qadan looked down at his body but felt no shame.
‘Maybe take some garments from the dead?’ Osayimwese said.
Gal-qadan wrapped a strip of cloth around his waist, grabbed a spear and rifle from a cluster of dead soldiers and said, ‘I have what I need.’
‘In that case,’ Isao said, ‘we should leave this place.’
‘And?’ Olan asked.
Gal-qadan pointed his spear in the direction of the tower. ‘And we keep fighting.’
*
Althorn sat on the shoulder of the huge metal machine, Troy, as it had been named by its occupants. As it strolled across the desert at what, to Althorn, felt like an incredibly slow speed, he marvelled at how it had managed to take Das and Pod by surprise. His guess was they had assumed it was a standard Ascent robot they could control with the mechanical device Althorn had found discarded on the ground after the fight. But rather than being filled with corruptible wires and processors, Troy was full of human soldiers from various centuries of the British Empire, singing victorious songs about saving their queen or king.
Althorn had tried to fight the huge beasts alongside Troy, but his weapons were ineffective and their poisonous liquids too threatening. The false Lutamek fired scores of assorted missiles, but Das and Pod were more nimble and split to attack from both sides. Then, just as he feared Das and Pod would crush the soldiers inside their metal prison, the brothers stopped their attack and looked into the distance, sniffing the air.
‘Resist it, brother!’ Das had said.
‘It’s strong,’ Pod replied. ‘We must fight!’
‘No,’ Das said, ‘we must return.’
And they ran off, leaving Althorn and a battered Troy wondering what was going on.
Hearing a knock, Althorn raised a flap of metal casing beside him and a hand holding a small metal canister of steaming liquid appeared.
‘Cup of tea, Althorn?’ a voice followed. ‘Not the best, but it’s the last of Elliott’s supply and we could use one after that fight.’
Rude to decline the offer, Althorn thought.
‘Thanks, Carter,’ Althorn replied, taking the beverage.
‘No milk of course. Sorry about that,’ the soldier said and popped his head out to chat.
Althorn sniffed the aromatic drink and wondered why anyone would want to mix milk with herbal infusions. He took a sip and nodded. Not too disagreeable.
‘Mmm,’ Althorn said to Carter with a nod.
‘You get used to it, I guess,’ Carter replied. ‘Of course nothing tastes like it did in India.’
Althorn nodded again, trying to remember what he could of his Earth’s future. He’d managed to glean some information from John and Li, Crossley even, but not enough to understand everything Carter talked about.
‘Do we know why they left?’ Althorn asked and peered into the darkness within Troy.
He could see movement: shadows; silhouettes; a pair of eyes. Was that Elliott?
‘Jenkins – the rear gunner – says a few of his dials perked up, but he’s not sure what they’re for.’
‘Is it Lutamek technology?’ Althorn felt his body flush with heat. ‘They can track it!’
‘No, no,’ a voice piped from within. ‘It was an air-quality monitor but something changed when we reversed the polarity.’
‘Could be sensing anything!’ Carter said.
Althorn looked him in the eyes. He was so young. How did he end up here? With his fresh face and eager eyes, he reminded Althorn of John. Eyes that had seen war were never young though, Althorn remembered.
One of the tall exhausts sticking out of Troy’s back belched a puff of black smoke and a voice cried, ‘Open lower vents!’
‘We need to get back to the Ascent city,’ Althorn said, pointing to the tower, which dwarfed the smudge of building beneath. ‘We need your help, to break everyone free.’
‘Well, we’d like to but–’
A shudder ran through Troy, making Althorn hold tight. He drained his tea and handed the canister to Carter as a deep voice within Troy shouted, ‘Enemy approaching!’ and the huge machine turned.
‘Gotta go!’ Carter said and slammed the flap down behind him.
Althorn had a good view up on the giant’s shoulders but he couldn’t see anything as the gears and cogs spun beneath him. Troy slowed and shifted as counterweights moved and sprang into action. The way Troy worked confused Althorn more than the way the Lutamek worked.
Then a dark patch on the horizon caught his attention. It was hard to gauge the distance with just his good eye, but Althorn had the impression of a swarm of creatures heading their way fast.
‘ETA thirty seconds,’ Elliott called out.
‘Defensive manoeuvres!’ another voice yelled and Althorn wondered if he’d been forgotten about.
Troy shifted to face the grey mass and a host of weapons appeared out of portholes.
As the newcomers neared, Althorn started to make out individuals – they were fast and big. Taller than a human but longer – six legs maybe? Like long beetles. He squinted and recognised a familiar shade of blue. His empty eye socket ached and he moved to climb down the back of Troy.
‘You’re safer here, Althorn!’ Carter shouted.
Althorn gripped tight, peering over Troy as a host of Brakari headed straight for them. He drew his blade, ready for a fight, when a flash of light on the side of a g
rey lead soldier made him pause.
‘Millok?’ Althorn whispered.
John had trusted her, but nobody had seen her since the battle in the dome.
‘Halt!’ a voice from Troy bellowed and Millok and her horde of light-blue Brakari slowed, raising a haze of desert dust.
‘We are allies,’ Millok said, holding up her front legs.
Tiny clouds of moisture puffed out of holes across her body and those of her army as the exertion of their journey caught up with them.
‘Are you Lutamek?’ she asked.
‘We are human,’ Althorn replied and stood on Troy’s shoulder. ‘What news?’
‘My Scion and I,’ Millok explained, ‘have escaped what many could not.’
‘Speak plainly!’ Elliott shouted from inside Troy.
Millok’s head dropped as she spoke. ‘The Tathon… the enemy of all armies. They are coming!’
Chapter 21
John stared through the cavern exit and shielded his eyes.
‘Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’ he asked Yarcha and Crossley, who stood either side of him.
‘I can see an elephant,’ Yarcha said. ‘And the sun is in eclipse.’
‘There’s a scarecrow on a cross,’ Crossley added. ‘And a pond.’
‘If you turn your head,’ John said, tilting his and squinting, ‘it looks like a giant face.’
A tall soldier pushed past them, spoiling the moment. ‘You’ve been underground too long,’ it growled.
John rubbed his eyes and looked again at the bizarre alien world of the Ascent city. Yarcha’s elephant was a heap of fighting soldiers, Crossley’s scarecrow was a body strung up outside the Lutamek research lab, which stood in front of a host of starships identical to those outside their dome, and the pond turned out to be a moving tar pit filled with bobbing soldiers.
‘We’re under attack,’ Peronicus-Rax said and pulled a bulky energy-rifle off his back.
‘From who?’ John asked but Peronicus-Rax was off, running towards the nearest burning building.
‘Hey, Peronicus-Rax,’ Crossley called out, ‘you got any more weapons stashed away?’