Iástron

by James C. Dunn

  The hissing nearby grew louder as the beasts approached, but Justus looked about, laughing. Ferranti laughed with him; and with tears falling down his face he swept his hair from in front of his eyes and sat beside him. At the end.

  ‘Kramer shot you,’ he said. ‘How did you . . .’

  Justus poked and prodded his chest, bewildered, and then reached inside his jacket to reveal a silver-cased book. A bullet blackened the front.

  ‘You lucky son-of-a-bitch! Where did you get that?’

  ‘I took it from Lesper’s office back there.’

  He looked at the people screaming, collapsing, attempting to get through any door they could. All were locked.

  ‘We’re trapped,’ he said. ‘Where are they all? Where’s Anna, and . . .’ He looked across at the battered, bloodied body of Araman, and his breathing quickened. He held his head in his hands.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ferranti said. ‘Kramer cut his throat. The boy said his name was Peter Marx. I know that name. The leader of the old Iástrons. But that’s impossible.’

  Ferranti watched as Justus looked to the triangular crown high above, took three deep breaths, and then gazed down at his left wrist. ‘I think I know the reason. I . . . I think it’s me.’

  ‘You think what is you?’

  Justus turned to him—

  Hissing resonated along the hangar platform. Startling screams of terror from the horrified survivors. The captains turned to each other. Justus reached for his fallen coil. Ferranti lifted Riess’ rifle and turned to see a multitude of black creatures pour through behind them. Without thinking they both fired with all the focus and strength they could muster, slicing through the middle of the charge.

  But it didn’t work. Hope was spent.

  Ferranti backed up, focusing his fire on an approaching beast. It fell to its knees, jaws snapping. Justus kicked it in the snout and pushed Ferranti back. Another came forward. He grasped Araman’s body and pulled it with him. The two reached a halt, their backs against the wall.

  ‘Watch out!’ Justus yelled as a mound of metal rained down from above. The beast lunging for them was crushed by the falling debris. Justus fired a vein of light again and again at another which tore at them.

  Ferranti looked up, and his jaw dropped as he witnessed a familiar spacecraft hurtling, momentously unforeseen, through the crown of the station, descending recklessly fast and triggering a torrential stream of wrenching air which pulled them from their feet. They both reached for the metal bars extending from the walls nearby; Justus grappled for Araman’s arm and clung to it with all the force he could summon.

  Black beasts and unfortunate men and women were pulled up and out into the blank vacuity of space. In seconds Ferranti’s grip had loosened and he was on the verge of losing out to the void when the craft that had smashed into the dock punched through the hangar and crashed down nearby. The craft’s side compartment opened and a welcome face greeted him.

  ‘Take my arm!’ cried Lieutenant Mica Avila above the hissing tumult. Ferranti didn’t need telling twice. Reaching across he found Avila’s hand and she pulled him into the Stellarstream’s shuttle-carrier. He picked himself up at once and cried to Justus, ‘Throw him!’

  Araman’s limp, blood-spattered corpse made it into the craft, followed quickly by Justus himself. He kicked out at a creature bounding towards them. It did not make it in.

  ‘Up!’ Avila cried and Erebus’ dock disappeared as the pilot fired the engines, propelling them up and back out to space once more. The two captains collapsed to the ground, clutching their chests. Ferranti had never imagined they’d make it out, and only by the skin of their necks had they just done so.

  ‘You . . . survived . . . Aurora?’ he said, gasping for air.

  Avila touched his head wound lightly with a towel and replied, ‘Scarcely. If it wasn’t for him.’ She motioned to the man sat in the co-pilot’s seat, now steering them directly away from Erebus.

  Ferranti jolted to his feet. ‘YOU!’

  Gordian smiled back, his arm securely fastened to his seat. ‘You’re welcome, Diego.’

  The blond captain remained standing, silent. Then his shoulders slumped. ‘In this dark hour,’ he said, ‘I don’t think there are any surprises left that would terrify me.’

  ‘Just as well,’ said Justus, ‘because we’re not done yet!’

  ‘How did you survive Aurora?’ he asked her.

  ‘Because of Gordian,’ she said. ‘If it wasn’t for him then we wouldn’t have forced the Stellarstream out of docking position in time. Nor would we have been able to follow your radiation trail out here.’

  ‘Is that what you did?’ Justus asked. ‘You followed my trail?’

  She nodded, disgust in her face at his presence. ‘We made it out of position and followed your ultimatt shadow to Chiro, and when we were unable to find you, Gordian suggested we monitor all outgoing vessels until we found the one you attacked with. It’s somewhat similar to a Titanese carrier, so I knew what I was looking for.’

  ‘Very smart,’ Ferranti said.

  Gordian winked. ‘Thank you, Captain.’

  ‘But why didn’t you contact Titan via Chiro’s governor, or failing that Chiro itself, for help?’

  ‘Because Chiro is no longer governed by the Enusti governor,’ said Gordian. ‘The Crilshan blockade has assumed command of the planet.’

  ‘You and your people,’ Ferranti fumed.

  ‘We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him,’ Avila said. ‘It was he who got us here, and it was he who removed the enemy ship which just rose from the triangular base.’

  At once both captains were on their feet.

  ‘WHAT?!’

  ‘Please,’ Ferranti begged. ‘Please don’t tell me you destroyed it, Avila.’

  Gordian, still attached his chair, cleared his throat. ‘The craft that emerged from the base upon that moon is the one we followed here. So far as I was concerned it was an enemy craft. Plus, they fired upon us first.’ He laughed. ‘It was headed away from us when we arrived, so we pursued. When we did they launched projectiles, so I responded.’

  Ferranti stammered. ‘You . . . You destroyed it?’

  Justus’ mouth hung wide open.

  ‘Not completely,’ Gordian said. ‘But it was certainly damaged. The craft was already headed towards the planet. Once we fired, the craft made for its original course and finished up down there.’ He pointed to the planet before them.

  * * *

  The shuttle soared. Its port-vessel waited in the distance for their return. Justus lunged at the young woman now steering them away and to safety. ‘No!’ he told her. ‘Turn us around! We have to go back. We have to go after the other craft! Anna’s down there!’

  ‘You are joking?’ she said. ‘Are you going to pilot this thing down there?’

  ‘If I have to.’

  ‘And just exactly what kind of frenetic are you?’ the Crilshan posed.

  ‘The very best kind. The kind of frenetic that does what he knows is right.’ He looked at Ferranti. ‘Even when he realises what that is too late.’

  Ferranti and he stared at each other, and the blond captain nodded his agreement. ‘Turn her around, Lieutenant. Take us down.’

  ‘But Captain—’

  ‘I’d prefer not to have to pull rank,’ he said. ‘This is a military craft and I am still your captain. Either way we have a duty of care to those girls. If not for the General, we’ll do it for them.’ Avila stared at him, and eventually nodded, turning back to the controls, and Ferranti moved to sit down nearby, but not before patting Justus on his back as he walked away.

  Justus smiled weakly and moved himself, lifting Araman’s blood-covered body and placing it upon two connected seats in the centre of the craft. He looked so peaceful and still. Justus grasped one of the nearby towels and mopped the blood from Araman’s face, before taking off his own coat and placing it over the young man’s body.

  He sighed. Down among the Labyrinth t
he words of Xerin Kramer had been burrowing inside his mind, and it was only as he found the time to rest and breathe that what the Professor had said began to make some sense. He had always thought himself unusual. It had been one of the reasons he’d ran away from home all those years ago. Kramer had thought Justus was the immortal leader of the Iástrons. He had shot him because he feared the very thought that he might be, and then turned on Araman because of that very same fear. But it couldn’t be true. He was Antal Justus, not Peter Marx.

  He had heard of the legendary leader of the Iástrons: the most powerful of them all, immortal and mighty. But Araman was dead. If he was the immortal Peter Marx, how could he lie here before him, so battered and bloodied and helpless? There was something he was missing. Knowing what he now knew he only wished he’d paid more attention to what Araman had said in their long discussions.

  If it’s true, Antal, if you are Peter Marx, you can deal with it later. Now is the time to make up for all you have done. Whether you survive or not.

  The shuttlecraft moved towards the lightning planet now. Justus stood and walked over to the cockpit. They were so close. But as he stepped up towards the front of the craft he noticed the cuffed Crilshan wrestle free of his restraints and reach for the lieutenant’s blaster. But Ferranti had seen it too. The Crilshan lifted Avila’s blaster and pointed it at Ferranti, who lifted his own and aimed it at the dark-eyed assassin.

  ‘Gordian,’ he said. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Here we are at last!’

  ‘Gordian, no!’ Avila cried.

  ‘Quiet,’ he said. ‘You’ve been a good companion, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Companion?’

  ‘You have proven that your race has some quality. But this goes back further than you know. You have no idea the history we share, the battles we’ve fought, the scars we’ve left on each others’ flesh.’ And he turned to the Titanese captain. ‘Did I not say what would happen the next time we faced off? Did I not tell you I would kill you once I wrapped my hands around this cold steel?’

  ‘Now who’s the madman?’ Ferranti retorted.

  ‘Oh, you know it’s always been me.’

  ‘I think that’s the first ounce of truth I’ve ever heard come from your mouth.’

  ‘Ha!’ Gordian laughed. Several rigid seconds passed by; and then, quite surprisingly, the Crilshan pointed the blaster up and raised his hands.

  Ferranti breathed out. ‘Put it down.’

  Gordian obeyed, dropping the weapon. His eerie eyes scanned all three of them, one by one. ‘You need me, Diego,’ he said. ‘But I will help you get Anna back.’

  Ferranti kept his blaster closely trained upon his face. ‘If you expect me to believe that—’

  ‘Captain,’ said Avila, ‘I think we should listen to him.’

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Quiet, Gordian,’ Ferranti snapped. ‘Avila, do you think he will want nothing in return?’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Gordian said.

  ‘Fine. What do you want in return?’

  ‘Oh, just to be kept out of those awful cuffs.’ He smiled widely. ‘They hurt like hell.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Avila asked. ‘Nothing more?’

  Gordian maintained his icy smirk. ‘I’m an assassin, a Crilshan agent. I’m quite used to doing the very thing I don’t want to do. Oh, and switching allegiances, I’m good at that.’

  ‘I’ll bet.’

  The assassin went to speak, but before he could breathe a word the entire cockpit and everyone within it began to tremble.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  BLINDING FLASHES OF burning light, striking through cruel and rapid-diving dowels, collided with the air about them; and their paths were like hands wielding thunder strikes from the heavens. All across the immeasurable horizon beacons and flares of lightning crashed into the otherwise sinister planet surface. A tremor-filled roar welcomed the shuttlecraft to the lower atmosphere of Tempest-Beta as they descended through the final fragment of flickering purple cloud.

  ‘Watch out!’ Avila cried.

  A forked column shot through the air beside them, almost blinding Justus as he was forced to grapple with the cabin wall.

  ‘Watch it! There’s another!’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Justus said.

  ‘No idea,’ the blond captain replied.

  ‘There,’ Gordian said from his seat. ‘Watch the horizon.’

  ‘What am I looking for?’

  The Crilshan raised his hand and pointed to their left. ‘You see it?’

  Justus moved closer. ‘I see it. He’s right, Ferranti. Head towards it.’

  Ferranti wrenched the x-shaped control and the craft weaved its way through the lightning storm, which, it seemed, had become even more intense. In the distance, only visible through the furious light of the storm, there stood a mountain, great and dark and formidable.

  ‘If you damaged the Chaos,’ Justus said, ‘and they came down here, they’ll have headed for something noticeable. Something like that. They may be waiting.’

  Ferranti pulled the control back and the craft shot downward. ‘That’s assuming they think anyone’s foolish enough to follow them down here.’

  ‘Knowing Kramer he’ll be prepared either way. So should we.’

  ‘We have weapons,’ Avila said. ‘Enough for the four of us at least.’

  ‘Any food?’ Ferranti asked. ‘I’m ready to collapse here.’

  ‘I’ll see what stores there are.’ She moved to the back of the craft.

  Up ahead the mountain drew closer and the lightning around them struck greater and stronger and louder. And then it stopped. Everything became still and silent; they all held their breath and gazed out at rising and falling upland. Like the eye of a storm the region surrounding the approaching mountain was subdued and noiseless, dark and sinister. They orbited the structure, creating a ring and searching for something, anything that would give them a clue as to the fate of the Chaos.

  ‘There!’ Justus said, noticing a path of smoke emerging from the northern side of the mount, buried among the shadowed foothills encircling the mountain. ‘Go through there.’

  Ferranti veered across the plain towards the opening, and Justus sat back beside Gordian. In moments Avila returned with three more coilbolts, four blasters, and suits of armour. ‘Those do?’ she said.

  ‘Just fine.’

  ‘There’s something to eat here as well,’ she said, handing both him and Ferranti a tube of the sweetest-smelling foodstuff it seemed he’d ever eaten. ‘We have a little water too. Take what you need.’

  They did, though Ferranti hardly had time to eat, hungry as he no doubt would have been, and simply focused on navigating them down and into the great structure leading into the black caverns of the mountain, surrounded but unaffected by the storm above. The craft moved through a series of gaping caves, throwing its light into echoing corners and deep fissures stretching miles below the surface, untouched and forgotten. It took only minutes to reach the end of the path of smoke, and Ferranti planted them down beside the smoking shell of the Fated Chaos, set upon an enclosed cliff face: a narrow plain of rock towering above the black and forlorn system of caves. There was no sign at all of the other survivors.

  Justus took another eager mouthful of freezing-cold sludge, emptying the tube, and then stood. Avila handed Ferranti a weapon and suit of armour, before slowly and warily handing the same to Gordian.

  ‘Have you eaten anything?’ she asked her captain.

  ‘There isn’t time now,’ he said.

  Gordian stood. ‘Not meaning to interrupt this pretty little picnic, but you’re expecting us to go out there. Do we have enough breathing tanks? And have you done any atmospherics? I doubt you will want to step foot out there and find them all dead.’

  ‘The craft’s built for two,’ Avila said, bringing her hands to her mouth in sudden realisation. ‘There’ll only be two suits.’

  ‘Then Ferranti and I go,’ Just
us said with a full mouth. ‘What are conditions like out there?’

  ‘Give me a moment. Gravity’s acceptable. Temperature down among these caverns is cold, but we can survive it.’ Ferranti pressed several more commands and leaned back in the seat. ‘Wait a minute.’

  ‘What is it, Captain?’

  Justus moved to Ferranti’s side as the captain double-checked the results of the scan. ‘Ferranti, what is it?’

  ‘Impossible,’ he said. ‘That’s impossible!’

  ‘What’s out there?’

  He turned to face them, and said, ‘Air.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Scans show accurate readings of nitrogen, argon, oxygen, carbon dioxide, all of it. An almost ideal comparison to the terraformed worlds.’

  ‘Not possible,’ Gordian said. ‘You’ve done something wrong.’

  The Captain reached for a lever and pulled it back. The craft’s side compartment opened and a wave of cold air poured into the space.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Ferranti smiled. ‘I don’t get things wrong.’ He breathed out, his breath forming frost. ‘We’re still alive, aren’t we? Look, if we’re going out there we have to go now. If we wait around we may not get back out.’

  Justus stood tall and firm and took a deep breath, his heart fixed upon his throat. ‘Well then, come on. Into the dark.’

  * * *

  Anna walked as though she were in a dream, unable to wake. Voices surrounded her; movement and light of the armed guard. She stumbled and was pushed on. Her sister hung in the arms of a heavyset soldier nearby. Along the bitter cold and empty passage they tread, slowly and cautiously; and although it seemed the passage, like the dark of the Black Labyrinth, became harsher and narrower the farther they moved, it was clear that the space was opening up. And every so often they would find themselves standing over a deep fissure leading to a black abyss.

  A dozen soldiers surrounded her and Gílana. At the forefront walked Kramer and Ketrass. Though her legs ached Anna walked a little faster, until she could make out what the two were saying. Kramer led the way. Ketrass kept close to him, whispering and looking all around. They were talking about the obvious fact they could all breathe.

  ‘. . . but we did tests,’ Ketrass said. ‘I read about the atmospheric samples verified when the station was first established.’

  ‘Spot on,’ Kramer replied. ‘They were nothing more than samples. A small zone on a Type-5 planet. A decade ago.’