Escape From Asylonia, page 29
part #1 of The New War Series
'I dunno Brah,' Sol replied. 'But I tell you one thing, I ain't working on no more freight ships, that's for sure. Assholes. They give you shore leave, and damn right they should, you’ve been busting your ass for those guys. So you hit the clubs, chase tail, and some freaky blue chick with a great rack takes you back to her place. The next thing you know, they gone and left you behind, and you're stuck beating up creepy-ass aliens just to get a pay cheque. Screw that, brah. I’m done with that crap. How about you, General?'
Noah felt his lips curling into a smile. It was the first time he could remember them doing so since the day of his introduction to the Vampire Goddess at The Riptide Rock ‘n’ Roll bar, the day she had flashed her fangs and called him ‘baby.’
'Sober up,' he said proudly. 'Then I believe there was some war going on down there you needed my help with, kid?'
'If you're not too busy, General?' David replied.
He managed only the smallest of smiles. What if it was too late?
They were interrupted by a mighty thud pelting the bridge of the ship. The impact sent them somersaulting through the air, and cheated them of several miles of altitude.
'Jeez, what was that?' cried Sol when at last David had managed to veer them into a stable, upright position.
'I think we're about to find out, man' the pilot shouted over the din.
One of the small visicreens between Noah and David flashed. A bright white light gave way to reveal a figure.
'Oh, shit, not those guys again,' sighed Sol. The four of them stared at the image of Cringor, with Balzor peering in over his shoulder.
'Give up now,' Cringor ordered. ‘You’ve gone too far this time, David. Too far for too long. We gave you what you wanted, it’s time to repay us. Give up now and make it easy on yourself.’
'Goddamn, kid, what did you do to piss off that ugly bastard?’
David concentrated on avoiding a second missile and let Sol answer for him.
'You mean besides shoot him, punch him in the face, and kill a bunch of his cronies?’ quipped the big Samoan.
Noah looked at Sol with interest and confusion, then turned to David, searching for a better answer.
'I’ll explain everything later,' was the best David could offer as he swung the ship around to escape a shower of bullets.
'Right now I need your help, Sir. What should I do?’
LXXXV.
Noah sprang to attention in his seat.
'Ascend, David. Fifty miles. Sol, Rochelle, head to the center of the ship. Above you, you'll see a large compartment beat into the roof and bolted shut. Blast the damn lock with a gun or something, and pull down the compartment. You should find a periscope, and a big nasty-ass gun. One of you guide, the other shoot like you're lives depend on it.'
Sol and Rochelle unbuckled themselves and followed Noah's command.
'Right, got you.’
‘Yeah, don’t you worry, we got this, right sister?’ added Sol.
‘You bet.’
Upfront, Noah spoke slowly and calmly to David, who gritted his teeth and tried to keep his nerves intact.
'Just keep going, David. Take her higher but do not veer off course. These battlecruisers are some of the fastest ships I've ever encountered. We can outrun those friends of yours, but we can't outrun their missiles. We'll just have to keep high, and hope the other two can blast those bastards out of the sky.'
The race continued. Rochelle peered through the periscope and did her best to instruct Sol as he cranked at the gun with bloodthirsty joy. Holding the trigger with the finger of his broken hand, and swinging the weapon around with his good arm.
From the portside, a smattering of bullets, less powerful than Cringor’s missiles yet just as startling, danced on the shaking body of the battle cruiser.
'Now what the hell's going on?' David thought out loud.
He threw the ship into a steep bend to avoid another hail of bullets, nosediving five or six miles, then powering the ship back to the two hundred mile mark, and bending to the opposite side.
The visiscreen flashed again. This time, they were confronted by a ticked off police officer, whose deep eyes seemed to reach out through the visicreen from their perch in the navy-blue skin of his eye sockets.
'Halt your course,’ snapped the officer. ‘In the name of Asylonia, I order you to halt your course. You are wanted for crimes against this planet. You are wanted for two counts of arson, two counts of theft, four counts of mass murder, and one count of attempted bribery. It is in your best interests to halt your course immediately. If you fail to comply, you shall leave us no choice but to fire at will.’
'Attempted bribery?’ asked Noah, starting to suspect that leaving The New World had been fraught with even more problems than he first realised.
‘No idea,’ David said dismissively. ‘Quick, what do I do?’
'Take her down,' The General ordered.
'What? You mean surrender? Are you serious?’
'Who said anything about surrender, kid? We’re getting off this planet one way or another, trust me, but we have to shake these stinking leeches off our tail before we go any damn place. There's a big angry ocean down there, Lieutenant. The Temüjin ships thrive underwater, the others don’t.'
Resting a hand on David’s shoulder for comfort, he turned back to direct Sol and Rochelle.
'Alright listen up guys, we’ve got the cops on us. Aim that thing to the left and take them out.’
‘Yes, Sir!’ Barked Sol.
He swung the cannon to the left. He and Rochelle worked together to fire at the cops, but the battlecruiser was moving too fast, disrupting their aim. Every bullet missed its target.
'We'll be safe under the ocean,' Noah continued. 'Should be able to lose both of those bastards and get out alive.'
'Yeah,' replied David. 'We might be able to lose those guys, but what about these assholes?'
The visicreen flashed once more. This time it was the Temüjin themselves, or at least one of them. A vulgar, black-skinned creature, with yellow streaks around white eyes like warpaint on a tribal warrior.
'Shit,' Noah said with a gulp.
‘Friend of yours?’ David asked him.
‘Not mine, kid. I’d remember a face that goddamn ugly.’
'It’s over for you, Fallon,’ said the beast. ‘You couldn’t just take the easy way out, could you? Well that’s your own stupid fault. I’m not happy about this, believe me, but It’s the end of the line for you, Fallon. You hear me? The end of the whole damn line.’
‘Yeah, sure you’re not happy about it, scumsuck.’
'Don't worry Sir, I have a plan,' insisted.
He artfully dodged the oncoming missile, smiling to himself as the thing crashed into a shower of oncoming police bullets, taking it out of action. The pilot yelled back to his crew with orders to brace themselves, then took the hijacked Temüjin ship into a fierce nosedive towards the ocean surface.
The police, the Askarians, and the Temüjin Empire all gave chase, pursuing the battlecruiser until it shot through the water and skimmed along the ocean floor.
Cringor and the police hovered helplessly on the ocean surface. The Temüjin followed them into the depths of the sea, ruthless in their hunt.
LXXXVI.
Noah hunched over the control panel, neck arched to see out of the visor. His old vigilance returned to him like a fresh charge to a worn out battery. He flicked his head round to look behind him, remembering the last time one of those scumbags had snuck on board his ship while cruising underwater. Yet there was nothing behind him besides banks of charcoal, and the sound of Sol and Rochelle working in unison to attack the enemy triad.
'Whatever this plan is, Lieutenant, I hope for all our sakes it’s a damn good one.’
'Oh, it is,' grinned David, hoping it was.
He led their pursuers on a trail around the ocean floor, avoiding the unyielding assault of bullets by bobbing and weaving between galleries of artificial coral once created in laboratories back on Earth. Sol and Rochelle soldiered on with their fire. Getting to grips with their weapons, and with each other, they developed a steady, prolific attack, striking their opponents’ ship with two bullets for every one that struck their own, but the Temüjin ships were resilient beasts who only seemed spurred on by the blows.
The enemy craft gained on them. The claustrophobic fear of being so far underwater, and the stark flashback to a time, not that long ago, when he had nearly drowned beneath this very water, worked together to slow David's senses in a nubilous smog.
The only way to free himself from it was to take himself out of the situation all together. He was no longer David Attreus, UEF Engineer, and son of Wing Commander Alan Attreus. He was now Lieutenant Attreus, a brave and noble Earth Force pilot at the very top of his game, armed and ready to overcome any challenge with a flourish.
The haunting voice of his late father tried to speak from somewhere in the back of his mind. He cut the voice off.
‘Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got this one,’ he said.
‘Sorry, kid. You say something?’
‘Huh? Oh yeah, I said now or never, General. Let’s do this!’
He turned back to make sure Sol and Rochelle had heard him.
'I mean it guys, hold..on..tight!’
Without once taking his eyes from the controls in front of him, he caused the ship to screech round on her axis.
The Temüjin advanced. David let the ship bob into the water until he felt that they were sitting just the wrong side of comfortable, then blasted up in a direct vertical line to the ocean surface ,and emerged into the midnight air, miles from any police or Askarians.
The Temüjin may have been quick, David thought to himself, but they were not -nor could they ever be- as skilful at the helm of a ship as any member the Attreus clan. This was in his blood. His father was right, it had been in him all along, and now was the time to prove it.
Now is the time. Now or never. Now.
The enemy ship emerged from the water ten seconds later, by which point David had already cut the ship's engines and allowed her to drop into freefall. His stomach jumped into his mouth. Blood rushed to his head. Rochelle tried not to scream. Sol swore. Noah’s cheeks were swept back into strained grin. The ship fell faster. At the exact moment that their battlecruiser came up behind the Temüjin, David fired up the engines.
Noah smiled through the sickening fear in his stomach. It had been a simple yet effective move. Confuse and disorientate, then attack.
'Alright troops, fire straight up ahead!' he ordered.
Sol and Rochelle did as they were told, sending a shower of bullets into the bridge of their opponent's ship, stunning the thing with such a force that the Temüjin began to lose power, thrust upwards, and lose power again, sailing up and down through the air like a yo-yo.
David and Noah watched on their monitor as the ship crashed back into the depths of the ocean. The Temüjin were far from dead, and they both knew it instinctively. They would be back on their trail at any moment. A second screen revealed that both the Askarians and the police -united at last by a common enemy- would not be too far behind.
Still, David's maneuver had bought them some time. Not much, but enough to head back over dry land, over cities and villages, all sinking into a slumber hundreds of miles below, and back out into the sea towards a cluster of islands.
The ship began its descent, over the first of two islands, and down into the second. Still guided by Noah, David brought her down, over the peaceful harbour and across a sleeping city, through the slums, into a dense forest and back out again, heading for the harbour on the opposite side of the island.
LXXXVII.
The log cabin she had considered both her prison and her refuge for the last three years leered at Rochelle through the visiscreen. From that distance, it looked tiny in scale and unassuming in appearance. Yet the way it spoke to her was loud and obtrusive.
'David,’ she yelled. 'We have to go back there. This time I left something behind.’
‘Seriously, sister? Now of all times?’ Sol scowled.
'He's right,’ David agreed. ‘These dirtballs will be back on to us any minute, ‘Chelle? Is it really that important?'
'Yes! Yes it is, if you must know. You listen to me, David Attreus. All my notes on the HIV case were destroyed along with the Delphi, remember? The memory stick fell out of my pocket and I just threw it in the door compartment for safe keeping. Safe keeping! Ha!
‘What with everything else going on I never went back to get it, but I need those notes, David. I need them if I’m to have any chance of making this cure work back home. I have a copy back in the cabin, and I am not leaving Asylonia without them. So you take me there right this minute, or I swear to God there’ll be trouble.’
‘Alright, alright, I’m sorry, ‘Chelle. Let’s go get those notes.’
He swept the ship around in a giant curve, crossing the harbour and heading back into the jungle. The vibrations of the battlecruiser urged the trees to part, revealing Rochelle’s cabin.
'OK, General, will you please keep this thing running? Sol, no matter what, keep your finger on that trigger, man. Blast those bitches to hell if you have to. We’ll be back.’
David toggled the controls, forcing the battlecruiser's emergency shoot from her belly. He climbed out first, then reached for Rochelle and helped her down. Hand in hand, their pounding hearts entwined, they raced towards the door of the log cabin. David kicked at it. The door barely flinched. Rochelle gave his hand a comforting squeeze.
‘After three,’ she told him. ‘One...’
‘Two...’
‘Three!’
Yelling in unison, they leapt at the door, Rochelle attacking with a foot, David with a well-placed shoulder. It burst open, exposing a waiting for a police officer, poised and ready with the barrel of his gun aimed at them. In the shadows of dim light, the muscular lawman’s navy blue skin gave off an appearance of dried ink beneath the powder blue of his uniform. David could not tell if the creature had a buzzcut and a mustache, or if it was just the way the shadows crept across his face. Nor did he intend to get close enough to find out.
Rochelle yelped, startling the officer. David took advantage, reaching for his Slayer Rifle and drilling bullet holes through the cop’s chest. The back-up squad rose from their hiding places and stormed down the stairs. Using the sofa, where he had once recovered from Attreus One’s crash, as a shield, David greeted the six of them with more fire, catching three in the chest, two square in the face, and one in the spleen. Rochelle moved herself across the floor by her elbows, flung open the lid of a beat up old trunk, and took out a binder. Tucking it under her arm, she leaned over as though the ceiling were low, and ran for the door, reaching for David’s hand as she went. Still shooting behind him, he followed her, out of the cabin and back in the belly of the battlecruiser. He jumped into the pilot's chair and headed for the harbour.
LXXXVIII.
As expected, the triple threat of police, Askarians and Temüjin was close behind. David returned the ship to the water. Again, the Temüjin gave chase, leaving Cringor and the cops to take out their frustrations by firing aimlessly into the ocean.
The battlecruiser came upon a mountain of fluorescent coral. David steered carefully through crags of fuzzy tentacles, and hid the ship at the heart of the mountain. From here, he watched, as momentum, and the distraction of bullets, caused the enemy ship to crash into a nearby rock face. It burst into a mushroom cloud of white fire that melted in the acidic water just as quickly as it erupted. Calm returned as Sol and Rochelle made their back into the cockpit and took their seats behind David and Noah.
David darted towards the fragile corpse of Attreus One, her mangled guts swallowed away by the ocean, leaving behind only a frail metal skeleton.
‘I don’t believe it.’
Rubbing his face with his palms, he peeked between his fingers at a ship he had once brought back from the dead and given new life to, now lying in a deathbed from which he knew there could be no second resurrection.
'I don’t friggin believe it, man. It’s not like we’ve been gone that long and yet it’s like the Mary friggin’ Celeste or something.'
Noah stifled a cough as he reached up to place a hand on David's shoulder again.
'That your ship, kid?'
'Was,' muttered David, grabbing at tufts of his own hair.
Noah looked on, tilting his head this way and that, trying to view the ship from all angles, scratching his chin and squinting.
‘Doesn’t look like any ship I ever saw in my life, pal, and I’ve seen a few.’
‘I built it myself,’ David offered, still muttering. ‘From a couple of bust up old ones.’
The General turned slowly to face the pilot, his face moulded around a wide grin.
‘Let me get this straight. You built your own ship and you flew it all the way out here? Damn, kid, the UEF could use a lad like you.’
‘They do,’ David replied. ‘Or they did. Don’t think I’ll have much of a job left to be honest, Sir. I was...am...an engineer. Pissed me right off that you were stuck here and nobody could get to you. So I just, well, I just did it myself.’
‘Well thank you David, I mean that,’ said Noah. ‘And don’t worry, I think you’ll have a job for life after this, pal. Hell, they’ll probably give you mine!’
He laughed, a robust, sincere laugh that caught all four of them by surprise, each unable to resist the urge to let loose with a wild and avid guffaw. It was good. It sounded good and it felt good. It sounded like relief. It felt like hope. Itt troubled Noah's lungs until his laugh erupted into another tormented coughing fit.
Rochelle leaned across her seat and took her patient by the shoulders.
'Easy tiger,' she said.
David drummed his fingers on the joystick, beating out an erratic pattern. He looked over his shoulder, waiting to see Rochelle sat safely back in her seat. Everything was going to be OK now. Attreus One had served her purpose, done her bit, played her part. It was time for him to finish playing his, at least for the time being. He stopped tapping his fingers and slapped the control bank with a flourish, like a drum roll climaxing with the crash of a cymbal.
