Rise of the Valkrethi

by Warwick Gibson

“You believe any of this?” said Metris amiably to Menon, as he pulled the rib and hide sail in to trim the double-hulled craft. His shoulder still hurt where it had been burnt at the Barrens, but he had most of the use of it back. Habna had assured him it was just scar tissue stretching, and it would come right if he kept exercising it.

  “Giants for all souls’ sake,” he said. “Giants made out of metal harder than our best fighting blades.

  “There’s not enough metal in Shellport to make a copy of one man. There can’t be enough metal in the whole of Hud to make a giant, let alone dozens of them!”

  Menon smiled. It was preposterous, of course it was. But then everything about the pale strangers from another planet was preposterous.

  “Maybe not so unbelievable,” he said, finally. “Hudnee’s shown us how to make houses out of what we find in the ground – shells, white clay and gravel. We’ve always used the world of the living, of trees, crops, and animals, but maybe there’s more out there than we’ve yet discovered. Who knows what’s buried in the ground?”

  Metris grunted. It was all a bit much for him. Still, the strangers’ medicine man had done something magical to Menon’s crippled arm, and it was now good as new. There were miracles.

  “As long as we get to wipe out those damn monsters at the Barrens,” he said with feeling. He recalled huge, many-legged things coming out of the sea and climbing up the hill toward his squad. There had been flashing lights under the water offshore, and a giant cannon that shot great pellets into the night sky. It wasn’t natural!

  “I’m with you on that one,” said Menon, sighting down the navigation rod fixed to the prow in front of him. After a moment’s thought he adjusted their heading with a sharp rap on the left side of the hull followed by two taps. Metris measured off the horizon into quarters, then again into arax, and steered the dooplehuel two arax to the left.

  They opened woven grass parcels of food when the sun was overhead, and made a midday meal. As they got closer to their destination Menon ran out a line behind the dooplehuel, and soon pulled in a long, sleek prophet o’ the sea for their evening meal.

  Spitzbergen slid past on their left, and then the line of cliffs ended and the noxious swamps of the eastern wasteland began. Menon steered in toward land, and Metris dropped the sail as they ran up on the shore.

  They soon had the dooplehuel beached and the sail stowed away.

  “This is it, then?” said Metris, indicating the jagged slash in the rock of the cliff.

  Menon nodded. There was little in Hud he didn’t know about after his years of wandering, and when Hudnee had asked him if there were any caves close to the Barrens, this one had come to mind.

  The two of them unloaded torches, and trudged toward the entrance. The grass and resin torches would mark the presence of the cave for the giants, the ‘Vaalgrathi’ as the people of Hud called them. When the men had marked out landing lights there should be some left over for inside the cave.

  Maybe the giants didn’t need light, thought Menon, maybe they could see in the dark, but the pilots would be glad of it. There was so much the Shellport villagers didn’t know about the giant figures.

  The entrance of the cave opened up into a sizeable cavern, with a floor of sand and gravel built up by the sea. It could have housed most of the Shellport population for a meeting, and Menon hoped the two dozen giants would fit into it as easily.

  “We mark the entrance, make camp, get an early night, and light the torches at the start of the third watch?” said Metris, running through what they had to do in his mind.

  “You’ve got it,” said Menon, unloading torches by the entrance and dancing back as he disturbed a sea whip which had been resting under a log. He pinned it with his boot and cut off its head.

  “Damn things are a menace!” he said in disgust. The Sea People lost one or two of their own each year to the poisonous sea snakes, usually children who didn’t know the warning signs. Once roused, the sea whips were very fast indeed.

  The prophet o’ the sea was one of the best eating fishes to be had around Shellport, and the two men waited with anticipation as it bubbled in its own fat in the embers of the fire. When it cooled they split it open on a large rock. Their evening meal did not disappoint them.

  When dusk fell they turned in. They didn’t set a watch. Menon set his internal clock to wake him at the end of the second watch.

  CHAPTER 19

  ________________

  The long, modified Javelins came out of star drive well out in the Aqua Regis system. They were on the opposite side of the planet to the enemy mining base. From there they coasted on silent running to the edge of the atmosphere. The Invardii hadn’t put up satellites, or erected a long-range monitoring system. They clearly didn’t want to draw attention to themselves.

  That suits us fine, thought Cagill, as his Valkrethi ran through its warm up routine in the cargo bay. From here they would use the homing system to descend through the atmosphere, and head south for the rendezvous site on the Hud mainland. The descent through the atmosphere would heat the Valkrethi to several thousand degrees, but the technicians at Prometheus had assured him the hardy giants would take it.

  A short time later a number of giant metal and composite shapes left the Javelins and fell toward the endless seas of Aqua Regis. Bright sunshine played off the waters below them, and then the heat haze of atmospheric buffeting began to form a fireball around each one.

  “Arms up, people,” said Cagill over the open system, “stabilise in the starfish pattern.”

  Roberto was enjoying this. He could feel the wind on his Valkrethi ‘skin’, and the experience must be as good as skydiving. He’d seen that done back on Earth. Normally he would think it far too risky for someone normally desk-bound like him, but this was exhilarating.

  The heat haze of their descent built up until it obscured the magnificent view of endless ocean beneath them, and then Cagill was telling them to aim for coordinates on the land mass to the south. The Valkrethi changed direction, and began a shallow glide that would take them to their destination. They passed through a narrow band of twilight, and entered the night of this world.

  Roberto looked around him at the others. He was in the middle of a cluster of bright, multi-coloured stars coursing through the darkness. They had all assumed a streamlined hands-outstretched position, and were angling through the air like a shoal of fish, moving as needed to keep the shoal together.

  “Watch for my mark,” said Cagill, and a blinking light appeared in the Valkrethi optics, overlaying the coast of Hud ahead.

  “Converting excess speed on my mark . . . now,” he continued, and the Valkrethi used the dipole system to store energy as they slowed. Composite skins dulled as heat drained away from them, and then the Valkrethi were almost there, coming in low over the water.

  Roberto switched the optics to infrared, and saw the warm sands of the coastline coming up rapidly. Flares of green showed where the infrared was picking up Menon’s resin torches.

  The Valkrethi slowed to a halt at the spot Cagill had targeted. The dipole technology released them, and 24 giant creations dropped onto the beach, flexing their legs to take the impact. Two tiny bronze figures with green face markings came to meet them.

  Cagill sent a short acknowledgement to the modified Javelins overhead, who would retrace their steps and leave the system. They would join the main alliance force by the following morning, ready for the attack on the mining site.

  Seeing Menon and Metris, Cagill took a step forward, and a giant foot kicked up driftwood and raked the two figures with sand. They darted back toward the cave mouth behind them.

  Realising his mistake, Cagill dismounted from his Valkrethi. Menon and Metris looked at each other in wonder as a tall, pale stranger climbed down the ladder that appeared at the back of his giant mount. The figure walked toward them. They could see him more clearly as he came into the flickering torch light.

  Cagill patted his right ear, to ask them
if they had linguist earpieces. Menon understood, and tapped his ear in return. Feedic and Salaan had left several of them with Habna.

  Cagill introduced himself.

  “Feedic says the Shellport militia have done him proud,” he said, once Menon and Metris had returned the greeting. “He has been following the situation across Hud as Menona relays it every day. Congratulations to both of you for training them so well!”

  Menon and Metris smiled hesitantly. The shock of seeing the giant figures was beginning to wear off now they were motionless, and they had seen Cagill climb out of one. It would take still take some time until they saw all this as normal.

  “We’ll introduce you to everybody later, but first I’d like to get the Valkrethi under cover. If you would lead the way?”

  Menon nodded, and Metris hurried ahead to light the torches in the cavern. The torches weren’t needed – the Valkrethi could see in any conditions – but they created a cheerful atmosphere for the visitors and their guides. It wasn’t long before the mounts had been stored at the back of the cavern.

  “You, ah, have enough food?” questioned Metris, caught between the demands of hospitality and the clear inability of himself and Menon to feed so many.

  “It’s not a problem,” said Cagill with a smile. “We’ve just come out of our sleep cycle, and had a good breakfast. The attack on the Invardii mining base – the place you call the Barrens – will start at midday tomorrow. For now we just want to rest up and pass the time. Preferably by not thinking about the attack!”

  Menon smiled. It was an old soldiers’ dilemma. The day before a battle the soldiers should be sleeping, but that was impossible. So they passed the time with any distraction they could find – as long as they didn’t have to stop and think about the next day!

  In the end Menon got a fire going near the entrance to the cavern, after Cagill told him that would be okay, and the apprehensive little group sat around it telling stories. They told stories about different planets, about different lives, and about their families, in the manner of soldiers before a battle everywhere.

  Back at Shellport, all was not well.

  “I want to see the battle for the Barrens!” said Hudnee doggedly.

  It was the first day of a forty-day quadroon, and he, Daneesa, Habna and Battrick should have been discussing the governance of Shellport. Unfortunately, the meeting had degenerated into a domestic squabble between Hudnee and Daneesa. Habna seemed amused, and Battrick was pleased they’d moved away from the boring details of administration for a while.

  Daneesa sighed. With Kanuk gone to train for war with the pale strangers, and the two girls enjoying the last of their childhood at Shellport with friends – and hardly ever home – she was more protective of her time with her husband than ever.

  Still, he was determined to go, she could see that. It was one of those male things. What would men have to talk about in the evenings if they hadn’t been there at the great turning points in the life of Hud? She looked at Habna, who shrugged.

  What could you do, sometimes the men were more stubborn than the male Ibek on the coastal cliffs, fighting for the right to mate until they collapsed from exhaustion.

  “We need you here,” she tried, one last time. “The villages are prospering now, and without the Descendants of the Prophet to make rules for them, you’re the only one the people will listen to when they squabble about land, and old grievances.”

  “Yes, well, that’s another thing I need a break from,” grumbled Hudnee, tired of the interminable travelling all over Hud to sort out everyone’s problems.

  Still, that was not the main point, and Hudnee knew it. He was feeling his age, and a fresh smattering of scars from the civil war with the Descendants had only added to his aches and pains. He wanted to be a young man again, and be part of the action – even if it was just for one last time.

  “I won’t be in any danger,” he growled, “you know that. There will be others going with me, and we’ll be watching the battle from a distance. What could go wrong?”

  That was another thing, thought Daneesa. When you got them in a group they would sneak off to do what they wanted anyway.

  She sighed again. Not that they were any different to the women, she had to admit. Damn this getting older – it made her so reasonable! What she really wanted to do was get mad at him, mad because she wasn’t enough for him, wasn’t a sufficient reason for him to stay at home. But that was just pride, she knew that.

  “We have to go right now, today,” said Hudnee. “Menon and Metris set sail for Spitzbergen at dawn, and if we’re going to make it to the Barrens before midday tomorrow we have to leave now!”

  Daneesa looked at Habna, who made a tiny nodding motion with her head.

  Daneesa gave up the fight. Let him go with his friends and get away from Shellport for a while. It might even be nice to have a bit of peace and quiet around the village for a change. The women left on their own could get some real work done – and there would be plenty of social time too, she thought with a smile. Then she frowned.

  “Since you won’t listen to reason,” she said, looking pointedly at Hudnee, “you might as well go and have your damn holiday!” The lesson was clear – and you’ll owe me big time when you get back.

  Hudnee looked surprised, and Daneesa realised she’d given in too easily. Then he leaped up and hastened out of Habna’s front room, to return moments later.

  “Well, niggle-naggle, are you coming or not?” he said. Battrick grinned at the insult, then hurried out of the room as well.

  “What about the rest of the meeting?” said Daneesa in exasperation.

  Habna smiled. “You knew they weren’t going to stick around once you gave in. Come on, girl, you’ve got to think through your decisions when you’re dealing with husbands.”

  Daneesa snorted. Habna was right of course. It was something you learned as you got older. It was something that really stretched a woman’s mind, and it was also a great game of social binding – one that she had to admit she enjoyed. She looked forward to the time the two girls were off her hands, and she could spend more time with Hudnee, and more time helping to run the village.

  “Everything ready?” said Hudnee as he and Battrick hurried toward the docks.

  “Absolutely,” replied Battrick. “Three dooplehuel fully provisioned and crews ready at a moment’s notice. I had to cut the numbers down – it wouldn’t have left enough fishing boats to feed the village!”

  Hudnee grinned. All those who had been in the militia would have wanted to come, he was sure of that. The presence of the Invardii base on the planet was a reminder of what they had been fighting for. Freedom from the restrictive Descendant rule, and now from the Invardii enslavement of other races.

  The Dooplehuel left the loading docks at Shellport moments later, each one carrying the maximum complement of five villagers, four at the ends of the two hulls and one stretched out on the light pole and hide deck. They coasted on the river current until they were clear of the sea forest, then turned south.

  Not content with the steady coastal breeze filling the sail, they added a paddler at the front and back of each hull for more speed, and rotated the fifth villager as the others tired.

  They made good time.

  CHAPTER 20

  ________________

  The three dooplehuel were close to Spitzbergen by the time the sun set. The Valkrethi were already in the cave Menon had prepared for them, when Hudnee and the others sailed past. They had a long way to go yet. Relying on the stars above them, the villagers continued down the coast in the darkness, each dooplehuel steered by one of the crew as the others slept.

  They didn’t see the cliffs of Spitzbergen end, or the swamps of the eastern wastelands begin. Around the middle of the night they started to angle in toward the shore, and when dawn came they were running in to the coast with the islands of the Barrens dead ahead. The villagers called them the Teeth.

  “Perfect,” said Hudnee, as he sto
od, balancing carefully in the front of one of the narrow hulls, surveying their position. “Now we just have to find Blood river and make it to one of the islands. We’ll have an excellent view from there.”

  “Not long to Blood river,” said one of the men behind him. “I can see the Pillar and the Scouse starting to line up. When they do, we follow the shore down until we hit the Blood.”

  Hudnee nodded. He was looking forward to the coming battle. They all were. The vast underwater ring of the Invardii base, and the giants he had been told the alliance was bringing. It should be quite a show.

  The main force of Javelins came out of star drive well above the atmosphere but directly over the Barrens. Every Hud pilot on Prometheus had volunteered for this mission as soon as it was announced. They were keen to rid their home planet of the Invardii presence, whatever the cost.

  Hud pilots now controlled more than half the 320 Javelins Prometheus could field. It was they, plus the Human pilots of the modified Javelins carrying the Valkrethi, that looked down on a ring of islands bordering a large, flat continent, far below them.

  “Remember not to get excited, and rush the job,” said Ayman Case, now Commodore Case and mission leader while Cagill led the Valkrethi. He was speaking to the task force that had been assembled for the attack on the Barrens.

  “Our job is to draw out the destruction of the mining base, and draw in as many of the Reaper ships as we can.”

  He knew there would be an orchestrated nodding of heads in the Javelins arrayed around him. These were experienced pilots and technicians, most from the planet below and all hardened to the grueling demands of war. They would live and die depending on each other, and they would stick to the plan. Any ideas of personal glory had been stripped from them long ago.

  “Sensors on the Sea Anemone are plotting the Barrens topography now,” he continued, “expect data in a few minutes.”

  The sensor array on the Sea Anemone – a modified Javelin containing surveillance equipment – had already extended to its full width. The strange, ungainly blob with its ‘feeding mouth’ fully open did look like a sea anemone filtering sea water for scraps of food.