Iástron

by James C. Dunn

  But Anna knew where she was going. She could see, hear, and feel all of Erebus. So many hidden paths and darkened tunnels she wished she could have seen. After a short while, however, relief filled all of their beings as the first sign of humanity confirmed her ability; and the same scene as that on the other side of the station lay before them: the ground was littered with torn metal. Sheets of reinforced steel were piled before them, and the three clambered through. The last hatch was still open. One of the beasts must have been through recently, before the timer had run out and sealed it shut.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ Ferranti said, glancing behind; the beasts crept slowly along.

  Anna followed second, and as she did Justus hissed, ‘Anna, stop!’

  They halted in the muted light of the room and Anna turned. The metal hatch leading from the Black Labyrinth stood open behind them, the beasts watching from the shadows.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’re . . . You’re shivering.’

  Anna raised her hand. He was right. She was trembling. Without warning her body went into spasm. The severe cold grasped and her vision diminished. ‘The bracelet!’ she cried. ‘We’ve left the Labyrinth. I can’t—’ She fell to her knees, gasped for breath. The concealed creatures hissed threateningly.

  ‘Help me!’ Justus shouted to Ferranti and together they slammed the huge door closed. At once the demons on the other side pummelled the hatch, crying aloud and breaking in. Ferranti left Anna lay on the ground and raced over among the control panels.

  Justus remained at her side. ‘Hold on, Anna. Try and breathe! Ferranti, what are you doing?’

  Ferranti pressed and pulled a number of switches and levers, cursed loudly, and then moved to another panel.

  ‘Help her!’

  ‘One problem at a time!’ he said, flicking a further series of switches, reading the information on the screen. ‘I recognise this system!’

  ‘Come on!’

  ‘One moment!’ He jumped up and a great cloud of gas poured into the room from above. ‘Backup oxygen,’ he said with a smile.

  Anna took enormous gasps of air, filling her lungs completely and leaning her head on Justus’ strong shoulder; his arm stretched around her. The pounding on the hatch continued. The two captains raced to remove their cumbersome life-suits. But they turned and gasped as a loud hissing filled the room. The rim of the hatch broke, disturbing the seal and what oxygen they had began to escape through the breach.

  ‘This way!’ cried an unfamiliar voice unexpectedly. ‘I said this way, d . . . damn it!’ A man stood behind them, torch in hand.

  ‘Riess!’ Justus exclaimed. ‘Ha! If there was one man I hadn’t expected!’

  No time for introductions, Ferranti again took Anna’s hand and they all charged from Section Six as the hatch behind gave way. Justus and Riess slammed the next hatch shut. A pounding shook it on its hinges.

  ‘What is this? Justus asked.

  ‘Lesper’s escape tunnel. Kramer’s been looking for it. I found it first.’ Riess led them quickly higher, up through the station. The beasts would be following close behind. ‘Hurry,’ he urged. ‘They’re ready to leave at any moment!’

  ‘Where’s Araman?’

  ‘They have him, Captain. He tried to hold them up, to give you time and rescue the pregnant girl.’

  ‘Pregnant!’ Anna gasped.

  Riess looked to her. ‘Yes, pregnant. The doctors were s . . . speaking of it. I don’t think anybody knows. She’s your sister?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Didn’t you know?’

  In those few second everything at last made sense: her sickness, her sadness, and Jon. His last word was her name. Did he know? Was he the father?

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t know. I thought she was sick, after travelling on board the Stellarstream for the first time and without medical attention.’

  ‘You should have told me she was unwell,’ Ferranti said.

  ‘Stop!’ Justus hissed as they reached the end of the narrow tunnel, turning at once to Riess. ‘Did you close this door behind you?’

  ‘Ye . . . Yes, Captain.’

  ‘And did anybody know you were coming down here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did anybody see you come down here?’

  ‘N . . . No. Why?’

  Justus took out his coil and pushed its jagged tip against the door, which creaked open noisily. An empty corridor, steeped with a dim red light, peered through. Justus guided them out and along the passage, where they moved down in single file until they came upon a ladder-well. Justus clambered up first and then turned backed for Anna. As soon as she had clambered up, however, he ignited his coil and charged unswervingly down the corridor and into a nearby room. She went to follow, but froze as a hiss rang out behind them. Too close. Ferranti and Private Riess scrambled up and slammed the top of the hatch closed.

  ‘It’ll only do to s . . . slow them down. They’ll catch up eventually.’

  Ferranti picked up his firearm again. ‘Where’s he gone, Anna? Justus!’

  ‘I’m here!’ he called back, returning from the nearby room. ‘Let’s hurry.’

  ‘What was in that room?’ she asked him.

  ‘Answers,’ was all he said.

  It took only a minute to reach the foot of another ladder-well. The four moved quietly, Justus climbing first, moving slowly up the iron rails. Then he stopped. Blasters triggered. Justus raised his coil. Red light, screams, and a loud CRACK and BOOOM filled the room above.

  Justus forced his way up and the others followed to find the three armed men that had been waiting for them lay upon the ground, smoke rising from their still forms. Again Ferranti and Riess closed the ladder hatch at its cap and followed Anna and Justus back through the mess hall into which the prisoners had been brought not two hours prior. The last place Anna had seen her sister.

  ‘They know,’ said Riess, shivering in the bitter chill.

  ‘Yeah,’ Justus agreed. ‘They know.’

  ‘Whatever happens,’ Ferranti whispered, taking Anna’s arm, ‘stay behind me.’

  Nobody else confronted them on their way through to the dock. Anna prayed it wasn’t because they had already left without them. Shivers crept along her back. She had not imagined what they would do if they made it from the labyrinth. The four were alone, and she prayed Gílana was safe.

  As they entered the central platform, coil and guns primed, a line of armed men stood between them and the droning ship. Before the soldiers stood Kramer, motionless and cold; and on the ground before him knelt a young blond man. It was Araman. The professor forced a pistol into his head. A whimpering crowd was gathered to one side, most upon their knees, while some edged toward the ship as though they expected it to leave without them. Anna saw no sign of Gílana.

  Justus held up his hand, stood at the front of the four, and stepped forward.

  ‘Stay back, Iástron!’ Kramer cried.

  Justus edged forward again, the others following slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ he said.

  ‘That doesn’t matter to me!’

  Anna frowned. ‘Did he say Iástron?’

  Riess moved alongside Justus. ‘Listen, sir—’

  ‘Traitor!’ cried the Professor, and he raised his pistol, pointing it at Riess. The private fell to the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead. Several of the crowd screamed. The soldiers nearby remained still.

  Justus pointed his flickering coil at Kramer, but looked to the soldiers and the terrified crowd. ‘This is the man you’ve decided to follow? A fool who would sooner kill everyone around him and stand there alone than give his life for anything or anyone that matters?!’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ cried a woman from atop the ship’s ramp. ‘You don’t know what we’re dealing with!’

  ‘Avéne,’ he said, ‘Not you . . .’

  Kramer smiled, raised the pistol once more.

  Anna shuddered. ‘Antal!
’

  A bullet cut through the air and pierced Justus in the heart. He fell back, dropped the coil, the back of his head cracked upon the ground.

  ‘NO!’ Anna cried. ‘No, no, NO!’

  And she was not alone. As the larger and bolder of the whimpering crowd now collided with the soldiers, some of the black-clad guards bounded in their direction. They took hold of Anna and Ferranti, dragging them away. But Araman clambered to his feet, raced for Justus, and pulled him up, gripping his body and holding up his head. He raised his hand, blood filling his palm.

  ‘You fool!’ he screamed.

  Kramer stepped above them. ‘This thing is dangerous. He is a Iástron.’

  ‘No, he is not!’

  ‘I explained this, boy. He is Peter Marx!’

  ‘I AM PETER MARX!’ Araman cried, his voice splintering as he said it. ‘I am Peter Marx, you small-minded, cruel thing!’

  He stood slowly, and though he was shorter than the professor, in that moment he appeared twice as tall and a thousand times as mighty. Silence filled the dock in the wake of his words, bar the steady whirr of the ship’s engine.

  ‘You lie!’ Kramer cried.

  ‘A secret. Not a lie.’

  Kramer’s eye dimmed and he stepped closer to Araman, who did not flinch as the professor leaned in. ‘So many secrets,’ he said, reaching up and adjusting his face covering, removing the black metal layer to reveal a black eye. Or, rather, a black sclera surrounding a deep, red iris. ‘So many lies!’

  ‘You’re Crilshan,’ Anna said.

  Both eyes flickered irregularly towards her. ‘Half Crilshan.’

  ‘Half an abomination is still an abomination,’ Ferranti grumbled.

  Kramer’s attention did not move from Araman. ‘You have been upon this station almost as long as I have, Alwar. I am old, but not so dull-witted yet as to overlook such a deception. You are lying. You are not Peter Marx.’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ he said, all but relived. ‘I almost forgot it myself. I very nearly wished to. This place—’

  ‘You’re lying! You’re trying to protect Peter Marx.’ Kramer pointed at Justus’ body. ‘Shoot the captain again!’

  ‘No!’ Anna leapt before the soldiers, fighting to keep them away. Justus’ body was still.

  ‘It’s not Antal,’ Araman said. ‘I am Peter Marx.’ He reached for the fallen coilbolt, but the soldier beside him clenched the back of his neck and forced him to the ground, slamming the bottom of his boot into his face. Thud!

  Araman cried out in agony. Anna and Ferranti, though weak and exhausted, attempted to fight their way through. Soldiers blocked their way.

  ‘If you want to come with us,’ Kramer shouted to the group, ‘you will prove your loyalty! Make Araman Alwar talk!’

  A few of the group rushed forward at once and joined the soldier, kicked Araman in the stomach forcefully several times as he coughed and spluttered. Two more soldiers, hulking and black-armoured, moved forward, removing their gloves. The men lifted the bloodied man from the ground while a third and fourth laid into him. More of his screams filled the hangar. Those in the beaten crowd looked away. Women sobbed.

  ‘Do what you have to do to get the truth from him,’ Kramer said, fixing the metal plate back across face, covering the dark eye again. ‘If you can’t, then punish him.’

  The beating continued. Anna watched desperately and shouted, ‘Stop! Stop it!’ But everything moved slow and silent. Ferranti hit one of the guards and fought his way through, only to fall to the ground, stunned by the nearest coil. ‘STOP!’

  Kramer smiled, eyes dimmed, at the suffering taking place in front of him. Araman had helped them through Erebus. He had done all he could to help her little sister. Anna couldn’t stand here and watch him beaten to death. She struggled hard; with dwindling energy she grappled with the men holding her.

  The men stopped beating Araman and stepped back, knuckles worn and bloodied. Their victim lay curled up on the ground. Everybody on all sides stood stunned.

  ‘I have a question,’ Kramer said, kneeling down to the man. ‘Why are you hurt? Why aren’t you healing?’

  Araman breathed deeply, and looked up.

  ‘The captain is dead. He is not the Iástron. Were you actually Peter Marx, you would be healing by now, would you not?’

  One of Araman’s eyes was swollen, his face was red with blood, and he clutched his shoulder tightly. Slowly, and with great distress, he stood. ‘I am . . . Peter Marx.’

  ‘THEN WHERE IS YOUR POWER?!’ Kramer motioned and the three men, instead of moving forwards to continue the thrashing, took out their coilbolts.

  ‘NO!’ Anna screamed.

  ‘QUIET!’ Kramer stared at her fiercely. ‘I . . . am in control!’ He looked to his men. ‘Do it.’

  A blast of red electricity surged from one of the weapons and struck Araman in his right side. Anna stood watching, tears in her eyes, as he was knocked back, his burnt flesh visible through singed cloth. But somehow he remained standing. He took another burst of energy. Another followed. And then a fourth.

  People stood around cried, ‘Stop! That’s enough!’ Even the line of soldiers looked to each other uncertainly.

  The attacks halted. The young man coughed, blood trickling down his jaw, and said, ‘I am Peter—’

  All three strikes of the coils collided, just missing him, and the resulting explosion caused an outbreak of flame and smoke. As the dust cleared everyone took a slow step forward. Araman’s body lay sprawled upon the ground.

  Ferranti looked up from where he had been thrown. Anna clutched her head, pulling at her hair.

  ‘I regret it had to end this way,’ Kramer said savagely, and he turned his back on the body.

  ‘Wait!’ Ketrass said, clutching the ship’s edge in her own fit of grief. They turned to see Araman slowly stand, half alive. He looked across to Anna and Ferranti and the motionless body of Antal Justus, then nodded once, weakly.

  ‘Had enough?’ Kramer asked, confusion and anger evident in his voice. ‘Tell me the truth, boy. You’re not Peter Marx. Tell me, who is?’

  The beaten and bloodied young man, whose clothes smoked and scorched from the numerous attacks, said nothing and swayed on the spot. The three soldiers took hold of him, and Kramer stepped slowly forward, drawing out a small, razor-sharp knife. ‘Now we’ll see how immortal you are.’

  He moved up close, looked him in the eye, and smiled. The knife was brought up to Araman’s neck, touched his skin. Kramer sliced. A trail of ruby red was left in the wake of cold steel. His head dropped back, eyes gazing up through the ceiling, and the soldiers let go, backing away. His body slumped to the floor.

  Anna’s heart fell into her stomach. He was dead. Justus and Araman. Both dead.

  A distant hiss broke the silence, filling the hangar. They all backed up in a panic. Kramer ran to the ship, now ready to depart. Several soldiers ran ahead onboard. The face of Avéne Ketrass was just as shocked as everyone else’s, and she was pulled onto the ship, hesitating and uncertain. The soldiers holding Anna and Ferranti let go and backed up towards the spacecraft, their weapons trained on them still. Ferranti edged closer, wary of the coils and rifles aimed at him.

  Don’t go. You can’t go.

  Anna looked at the lifeless bodies of Araman and Justus on the floor, and across at Kramer, who wiped the blood from the knife onto his dark lab coat, which he then took off and flung to the ground.

  Another hiss rang through the dock. The beasts were coming. Time was up.

  ‘Where’s my sister?’ Anna shouted at Kramer.

  ‘Your sister is safe. She is coming with me.’

  ‘You’re not taking her!’

  Kramer stopped, eyeing her wickedly. ‘Oh, I think I am.’

  ‘No, you’re not!’

  ‘Do you think this is a story, little girl?’ he said. ‘Where the heroine overcomes the nasty villain despite insuperable odds, all through her courage and determination? I admire your fight and your stren
gth, and I don’t know how you survived the Labyrinth, but I am not evil. And you have no idea what is really happening here.’

  ‘I know that you have my sister on that ship . . . and I know that you’re going to give her back to me!’

  Kramer smirked, and glanced quickly at the corridor they had entered from. ‘I’ll tell you what, little girl. Because I’m not completely inhumane, I’ll offer to you the choice: you may come with us now, come with us and be with your sister and live. Or stay here and die with the rest of them.’

  The survivors edged forwards, whimpering, wary of the approaching danger. But the armed soldiers kept them back.

  Anna looked to Ferranti. In his dirty, sweating face she could see only desperation and fear. But she knew what she had to do. She had been through too much to be left on this hellish rock to die as her little sister was taken away forever.

  ‘Go,’ Ferranti said. ‘Get out of here. You have to.’ He nodded. ‘Go!’

  Anna gazed across at Antal Justus’ still body, and then to Araman. They had defended each other, given their lives for one another. Could anything Kramer had said be true? The Professor reached out and took her hand, and she stepped slowly forwards, moving up the ramp and into the craft. Kramer smiled as she boarded with him. But as she entered, a sharp pain filled her neck and she fell forwards, leaving Erebus and everyone she cared for behind.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  THE AIR HOWLED and the ground roared like thunder beneath Diego Ferranti’s knees, as though everything beneath was falling away, while a booming call rose up above; the wind blew down and around the survivors—they who would survive no more. The craft disappeared up through the triangular crown. Then rose the bedlam. Men and women charged around, turmoil filling their fearful cries. They stormed their separate ways, but the elevator upon the far side was blocked, and from the other end now came the ominous wails of their demise. Ferranti turned and crawled towards Justus’ still body, and there he sat still and watched. Justus gazed up at him with empty eyes . . .

  Wait!

  Strong eyes.

  Glistening eyes.

  ‘Antal?’

  ‘Yeaaah?’

  How . . . ?

  ‘My head,’ Justus moaned, sitting up and reaching behind.