Iástron

by James C. Dunn

  ‘They have been through so much.’

  ‘As have you, Ruben.’

  ‘My brother suffered the same. I miss him too.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  He shook his head. ‘How can I go on? How can I fight these monsters?’

  ‘The only way you know how. By remembering what you’re fighting for. And I will be with you all the way.’

  ‘You have been by my side all this time. Callista was right. I knew how fortunate I was. But I never told you, or thanked you.’

  ‘There will never be the need.’ She leaned upward to kiss him, but he pulled away. She felt the blood rush to her face as she turned her back on him, eyes closed.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked. ‘Ernesta, do you trust me?’

  ‘Something tells me I could ask you the same,’ she said.

  ‘And you just may be right to do so. I’m taking us to war. How many disagree with this course, and how many more will die for it?’

  She turned and gazed at him carefully. His eyes glazed over and his shoulders hung low. In the palm of his hand he grasped a silver necklace. ‘Ruben Berenguer, you have not become the general you are by ignoring the very thing that makes you so powerful,’ she said. ‘Your power is your decency. Your decency is your nature. And your nature has never let you down once. You are not going abandon it now. I won’t let you apologize for choosing to act when we both know it is necessary.’

  ‘Not necessary. Vital.’

  ‘I wasn’t alive when we went to war with Crilshar the last time,’ she said. Ruben looked up, and she saw in his eyes the distant memories of a tormented childhood.

  She wasn’t there, but the Captain knew all about the first Titan-Crilshan war. Yux Dishan’s father, Yu, and his elder uncle, Sumat, had envisioned an Alignment led by Crilshar, which itself had grown to be fierce and prevailing. At a time when the Alignment was weak, lacking in leadership, and supporting a fourth phase of colonization, the High Council on Crilshar seized its moment well.

  ‘I was only a young boy at the time,’ Ruben said. ‘Before then my father would take me on his visits to the other worlds. But the last one he took . . . he left me behind. I’ll never forget comforting my little brother, Dathlan, when my father went away to fight the Dishan regime, or that empty feeling holding my mother’s hand when we stood at his burial.’

  Mendoza reached out and took his hand. She held it up slowly and kissed it, before leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked. ‘Am I doing the right thing?’

  She knew exactly what he was asking. ‘I can’t say how sorry I am about your family,’ she said. ‘You are in a terrible position. Yet, you are the only person I have ever known that I can say I believe in absolutely.’

  ‘You’ve always chosen your words carefully, Ernesta, and for that I’m grateful. But I do not consider belief and trust to be the same thing. You may believe in me, Captain. You may believe in my ability to burn Crilshar to an endless pit. But when it happens, would you trust me to pull you from the flames?’

  ‘These past weeks,’ she said, his hand held in hers, ‘my belief has never wavered. My trust in you as a man I have questioned. But no man is perfect. We all strive to be better, to be better than one another, to be more than it would seem we can be. And no man I have ever known has come as close as you have. Yes, I trust you—now more than I ever have, Ruben.’

  He gripped her hand tenderly and nodded. ‘Thank you. I do trust you. It’s what separates us from the Dishan. And now that’s clear, I will reveal to you the design for the invasion of Crilshar. Not the one the others believe will happen, but my true intention—the real design.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  EVERYBODY SCREAMED OUT. Grown men whimpered like children while women clung to each other in the agonising reality of insurmountable odds. It was too dark to see much, and so Anna stood, petrified, in the midst of the panic and confusion. Shapes pushed and shoved. Noise and heat. The terrified bodies forced her back. She reached the edge and gazed down the corridor: a long tunnel, drenched in a pale red and lingering light, reaching into darkness. An unsettling draught sent cold shivers down her spine. They were not safe.

  She turned to the group, at least three dozen men and women; old and young; silent and hysterical. She could not see Ferranti, but at the other end of the commotion she noticed Antal Justus, and so pushed her way through. As she moved she noticed the Stellarstream’s old commander, Naffan, among the crowd, but they were too tightly packed. She pushed through and found Justus leaning up against the hatch which had closed behind them, pressing his ear against the metal. She did so too, and listened through the cold wall to the dull roar coming from within the elevator shaft.

  ‘They’re sealing the passage,’ Justus said, his eyes wide. ‘They’ve cut the cables. The elevator won’t work.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means . . . that there’s no way out now.’ He dropped his coat and ripped the sleeve off his shirt. His face twisted painfully as he tied a firm tether around his bloodied arm. It was soaked. ‘They’ve been sacrificing members of their group through the elevator passage in order to stay alive. Now they’ll try and leave with the Chaos. The ship only needs minor repairs.’ Putting on his long coat he turned to her. ‘I imagine they’ll be gone within an hour or two. We’re only in here to distract—’

  ‘What do you mean, sacrifice?’ Anna cried. ‘Distract what? They . . . They kept my sister up there! What are they doing with her? Tell me!’

  He closed his eyes, threw his foot into the door, and swore with hopeless rage. He looked at her again, went to open his mouth—

  ‘QUIET!’ Ferranti’s voice filled the tunnel. All went silent. Anna and Justus turned with the group to the captain, who stood facing them, hands in the air. ‘I know it seems hopeless,’ he said. ‘And I’m just like you. All I want to do is fall to the ground and not get back up. But if we all do that then we’re dead for sure.’

  ‘Look at us!’ somebody shouted. ‘We’re all dead anyway!’

  ‘Yeah!’ said a blubbing woman. ‘You heard what he said back there! They’re gonna’ leave us down here!’

  A few women began crying again, holding one another upright.

  ‘I ‘ave a little boy back ‘ome!’

  ‘So do I! I have a family!’

  ‘I know!’ Ferranti said. ‘I know it’s hard! But hold onto those thoughts of your loved ones. Think about getting back to them, and we will!’

  But at once everyone shouted back, and then at each other. Many did not speak the Common Tongue, and so the confusion worsened. Ferranti turned on the spot, looking back and forth.

  ‘Quiet now!’ he said. ‘Quiet!’

  ‘They’re too loud,’ Justus said. ‘We have to move.’

  Anna looked from him to Ferranti, who had managed to gain the calm of group at last. ‘Are you there, Anna?’ he called out.

  ‘I’m here!’ she said. ‘I’m all right.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, relieved. ‘Now none of us know where we are. Some of us need rest, but I doubt we have time. First of all, let’s move from here. Everyone stick together! This way!’ He gestured to his left which led off into the darkened tunnel.

  ‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ Justus said loudly beside her.

  Anna turned to him, as did everyone else. Silence again. Ferranti looked carefully, and upon seeing who had spoken it was as though lightning had struck between them. The Stellarstream’s captain lunged forward, his eyes wild with madness; he took Justus by the throat, throwing him into the wall. ‘IT WAS YOU!’ he screamed. ‘YOU BROUGHT US HERE! IT WAS YOU!’

  ‘No!’ Anna cried, jumping between and gripping Ferranti’s arm. ‘Please no! He can help! He can—’

  She found herself wrenched back. One of the group pulled her by the hair and threw her to the floor. She brought up her hands to cover her head as the crowd surged forward, terrified and desperate and thirsting for
the blood of Antal Justus. Ferranti cried her name as she fell beneath the group. Feet thumped her in the face, straining her neck, numbing and blinding her all at once. Opening her eyes she looked up to see an intense red-burning flash, a snap and boom and the cries of men, before amongst the frightened crowd silence fell. She closed her eyes. Beneath the chaos a hand grasped hers and dragged her to her feet. She thought at first it was Ferranti.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Justus asked, pulling her close.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she said, wiping blood from her lip and gazing at the people now surrounding them. The bright red light of the flickering coilbolt flashed and hummed as Justus held it out, waving it as though it was the only thing stopping them from surging forwards once more.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ she asked.

  ‘It was in my jacket,’ he said. ‘Araman must have . . .’

  ‘Murderer!’ somebody cried.

  ‘Kill him first!’

  Breathing deeply, blood trailed down the side of his face from a cut above his eye. ‘Anna, I’m not one of them.’

  ‘Of course you’re one of them!’ Ferranti said. ‘You brought us here!’

  ‘He did,’ Anna said. ‘But look where he is. Down here with us.’

  ‘That doesn’t change what he did, Anna.’

  ‘I know, but if he’s been here before, maybe that helps us . . . maybe he can help us get out, maybe . . . we need him.’ She shot him a glance, and his breathless expression was a combination of alarm and gratitude.

  A moment of cautious silence followed, before Ferranti sighed. ‘You’re right. And that’s a lot of maybes, but okay . . . how do we get out? What do you suggest we do?’

  ‘Well, first of all, you don’t want to go down there,’ Justus said, nodding down the tunnel to their left.

  ‘Why, what’s down there?’

  A long, heart-wrenching hiss filled the passage. Everyone stayed still and silent. Anna stared at Justus, whose face had flushed a deathly white.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  IF THE CROWD had been panicked before, then the tense cold which fell was now nothing compared. Justus looked to Anna, and then to the ground, his eyes darting in every direction. Thinking. Panicking.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘What do we do?’

  One of the women nearby collapsed under the anxiety. Nobody helped her. The hiss which filled the corridor continued to echo among them when another severe sound called back as though in answer. Most stayed still, though some backed up to the elevator hatch. Pointless.

  Anna shivered beside him. ‘Antal, what do we do?’ She took his hand.

  The pale, red light above wasn’t enough to light the whole corridor, and so everybody stared, shaking, into the darkness ahead. Justus turned off his weapon, though he continued to grip it tightly.

  As expected, when a third hiss rang along the corridor, the crowd of fifty-four exploded in panic and horror. Despite both captains’ cries not to run, many launched themselves in different directions. From the corridor’s intersection some ran right and others darted left. Some even rushed directly ahead, unknowing of where the sound came from. The blond captain backed up and took Anna’s hand, and he pulled her down the corridor to the left. ‘No!’ Justus cried; but, still clutching Anna’s hand, he too was pulled left. The hissing rang out right behind. The beast had found them.

  ‘Ferranti!’ Anna called. ‘Wait! Where are we going?’

  The three piled down a corridor, steam pouring from the walls; spray merging with the hisses of the beasts behind. Justus recognised the way Ketrass had brought him on their way down here before. As the light was left behind he ignited his coil, its faint glow providing a little light, and he pulled them the opposite way, down a ladder-well. They hastened below, leaving the fleeing crowd up above. All was silent at the bottom.

  ‘This way!’ Justus said, praying nothing lay in wait. They continued through a series of darkening rooms.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Ferranti asked.

  Justus turned. ‘I—’

  A hiss pulsed through behind them.

  ‘We’ve been followed!’

  Anna squealed and Ferranti took her hand. ‘This way!’ He dragged them down another corridor. It was like a maze in the dark. And at once they found themselves nearing its end.

  Justus breathed heavily. He felt sick, lightheaded; the pain in his left arm blurred his thoughts, but the other two pulled him along. At the end of a narrow walkway they turned a corner, a hiss called out behind, and they found before them a narrow hallway, filled with small doors. Ferranti pulled them down and pushed his way through into one: a boxed off storeroom.

  ‘Stay there!’ Justus said, opening another door beside it and pushing Anna within. The door slammed shut. He disabled the coil. Everything went black. The room he’d chosen, also a small storeroom, was no deeper than a body. The two leant up against either side of the door, the glass-pane which passed through a great portion of it running vertically between them.

  Anna’s breaths came in loud, lurching spasms and she pressed her hand over her mouth. Justus forced himself to breathe slowly, but he felt the blood sliding down his arm, along his hand, dropping from his fingers to the floor.

  Then he heard it. Loud, thudding footfalls sounded outside the door. Growling shapes moved along the corridor. Deep, heavy rattling. He couldn’t breathe. His eyes became accustomed to the dark, and he watched Anna reach out to lock the door. He seized her arm tightly. She looked up at him and he tried to shake his head. Their only hope was that the beast out there didn’t know where they were. It mustn’t have known, he told himself, because if it did the demon would already have broken through. He released her arm when something pushed up against the pane of glass. Anna shrieked and the door began to rattle.

  Justus held his breath. He wasn’t ready.

  He pushed all of his dark thoughts to the back of his mind. He was back in the cockpit of the Flux. Adra was by his side; Kaara on the other; Noah, Raj, and Shree stood behind him. He should never have left them.

  The door swung open and Anna disappeared . . .

  He would get back to his crew. To his friends. To his family. He promised himself. These beasts would not stop him. Igniting his red-flaring coil he aimed high and cried aloud, and jumped from his hiding place—

  He stopped, heart beating faster than it ever had, as he looked into Ferranti’s sweat-drenched face. Anna cowered beside him. ‘They’ve gone,’ Ferranti said in a whisper. ‘That was unbelievably close. I don’t know where they went.’

  ‘Ferranti,’ Anna sobbed, moving close to him. He stretched his arms around her.

  Justus clutched his chest. ‘Anna . . . Ferranti, you need to know what we’re facing. This place . . . it’s . . . no. First we need to move. Now.’

  ‘Where to?’

  He held out his coil and they tread lightly down the passage. If Araman was right then the beasts would be taking the others into the Black Labyrinth that very moment. They wouldn’t be gone long. He placed a hand into his pocket and happened upon cold metal.

  ‘Araman, you genius,’ he said, and he pulled from within a concealed PCD-comm device. ‘I shouldn’t have doubted you.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  DARK AND DISCONCERTING, the docking platform of Erebus station was a far cry from the place Avéne Ketrass had known all these years. Around her men hurried back and forth, preparing the Fated Chaos for departure. She walked calmly along, recalling the very first time she descended through the dark crown. It seemed like another life now. Her face as she walked was, as ever, clear, undaunted, and her true feelings far from obvious.

  Araman’s words of warning raced through her mind. Though Justus remained unaware, Araman had saved his life, and given him the tools to remain alive. She’d promised not to tell Professor Kramer. She just wanted to get away, to be free. No more death. Kramer was the real problem now. He was the one controlling the scientists, the soldiers. She knew he was different, so unli
ke everyone else. He was brilliant, magnificent, but he had another side: a darkness, only visible in his single eye; a glow of black that flared whenever he had a spark of genius, no matter how terrible.

  She stopped and watched the crew inspect the inner workings of the Fated Chaos; the outer plate near to the ultimatt engine had been removed and she could see for herself that there was certainly some damage to contend with. But these engineers were the best. It wouldn’t be long now. She twisted on the spot and moved off, heading for the room Kramer had taken the young Driad girl.

  Down the corridor, still glowing in a faint red light, lay the blockaded mess hall; the place Araman now sat, desperate and guilt-ridden. She left him there and strode down another corridor of Section Five. Along the walkway she passed several rooms filled with what was left of the failed Erebus project: terrified scientists and engineers and once-valued members of the station. At the walkway’s end she raised her access fob and entered a solitary room. Inside she found four men in black lab coats gathered around a metal table. Between them lay the young girl, unconscious and sedated. Nobody else knew why Kramer hadn’t sent the girl down with the rest of them. Avéne Ketrass knew exactly why he’d kept her, but for what exact purpose she didn’t want to guess. Kramer sat nearby in a leather chair, looking at something on a large screen up against the wall. Upon seeing her enter he switched it off, before standing to greet her. The others lingered behind him.

  ‘Avéne, my dear,’ he said. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘No . . . well, yes, Professor. I need to speak to you.’ She glanced sternly at the four science officers. ‘Alone.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, signalling for the others to go, and they each left the room, eyeing her distrustfully. As the last man left she locked the door and turned to her mentor, having pulled out her own small pistol. When he saw what she held in her hand he did not look shocked, however, or even the least bit angry. He simply sat back down.

  ‘You’ve come to kill me, dear?’

  ‘I’ve come for answers, and no lies!’ she said, brandishing the weapon. ‘That’s what this is for.’

  ‘I see. Better put that thing down then, before you do something disappointing. If it’s answers you’ve come for I’ll gladly oblige. If you don’t believe me I’ll quite happily use that thing on myself.’ His expression remained untroubled. Walking over to the young girl’s body, Ketrass stood firm; she kept hold of the weapon. Kramer frowned. ‘Very well. Just don’t blame me if I get shot.’