AEGIS Tales 2, page 19
part #8 of Airship Daedalus Series
“Wait! What?”
The Ice Princess turned at the outburst to study Li. Do not speak aloud, OotMa warned, only with your mind! Li gathered himself and stared back at the blond letting his dark brown eyes take on what he hoped was a helpless and hopeless mien. “Take me instead. He’s only a kid.” Mr. Li, this is not my plan!
“Oh, how very noble of you, David, rest assured, your turn will come. just not yet.” She returned her attention to the efforts to put Bird onto the altar.
Maybe not, he thought back, but you need a diversion and I can be a pretty good one when I have to be.
You must release your powers to me.
You’re inside my head, how can you not already control them?
Once more the generator thrummed up to meet a new load, and Li turned to look just as the blinding flash lit up the scene. Inside his head his mind exploded in a vortex of energy and he could feel his powers rising to levels he had no inkling he possessed.
With the strength of his mind—but not at his command—knobs flew off machines, stones the size of basketballs rocketed into guards, knocking them off their feet despite their force fields. Filaments flew from his fingertips attaching to something and yanking it free only to deposit it beyond the light line among the forest ferns. It all seemed instantaneous. So fast no one could really react. OotMa stood silently beside the Priestess of Darkness whose mouth was agape in astonishment.
“Kurt!” She screamed, “What has happened?” The pedestal was empty. Only the cloak they had placed on Bird Far Seeing was still there. Equipment was in disarray, technicians collecting themselves to assess the situation.
“I don’t know? I don’t understand. Everything was working perfectly.”
“What about the condenser?” Kurt looked at the dial, it still read thirty percent.
“Still the same. Nothing from the child, but nothing lost.”
“Find him you stupid imbeciles,” she screamed at the guards who were just regaining their breath. “Find the child and bring him back immediately.” They scrambled to their feet and after some confusion searching for flashlights they fanned out into the surrounding forest.
“You don’t need the child,” OotMa intoned. “You want me. You seek to take what I cannot give. So take it now.”
Like a scene change from in a grand opera the pieces of the set were repositioned, power cords reattached and technicians were back at their workstations. Most of the guards had returned, their search for Bird having been fruitless.
“Of course, you are correct. The boy was merely another test, a bit more energy, so to speak. But I can claim that whenever I choose. So I grant your wish, old woman. I will take you now.
What are your doing? Are you nuts? This crazy woman will kill you! Li hoped the panic in his thoughts was evident.
All things die in their time, Mr. Li. But be hopeful, where there is life there is strength. Now please, look at the cloak and focus your attention. I must see it clearly. OotMa had never tried to look through the eyes of an untrained adult. But look she must this time.
The Timeless One was led toward the altar by the technicians. She shed her garments as she walked and took up the altar robe, wrapping herself carefully, absorbing its ancient runes and meanings, before lying down. Again the generator strained, the symbols glowed.
Arngerd leaned forward in anticipation; even the guards stared, waiting for the flash of light. But it did not come. Reaching once more into Li’s mind OotMa directed a nearly invisible filament to turn the power dial to one hundred percent.
The arc lamps failed, plunging the area into near total darkness—only the glow of the symbols casting their eerie red glow lit the scene. Time seemed suspended and the robed figure of OotMa arose like Lazarus and reached over her head to grasp the chromium globe.
Transformed, she shone like a beacon, her eyes searchlights, her hands and feet pulsating. Releasing her grip, she floated to earth in front of the Priestess of Darkness who was rooted to the spot like the giant cedars of the forest.
“You seek eternal life. My life. Here it is.” The Timeless one grasped her hands and stared into the icy blue eyes. “See what I have seen in my lifetime.”
Janssen’s body shuddered and became rigid as a thousand times a hundred years of death, disease, warfare and strife poured terror into her mind. “This is what you sought to take from me in a single moment. This is my gift to you in that moment.”
A low keening wail began to emanate from the Ice Princess, becoming a raw, shrieking dirge possessed of lamentations beyond endurance, finally trailing away into a catatonic stare.
OotMa released her hands and withdrew from her mind. Janssen fell to the earth, inert. Turning her attention to the technicians and guards, OotMa surged up to the globe and struck it with her hands. Showers of sparks erupted like fireworks, cascading through the equipment carrying with it the fearsome reality of eternity. In the blink of an eye Silver Star personnel began collapsing in coruscating showers of their own, disappearing into the void leaving behind only their clothing.
As the Timeless One settled to earth, her body returned to the state David Li had known. The generator, no longer overburdened, powered the lights back to normal and Bird Far Seeing edged in from the forest. Each reclaimed their clothes with Bird and Li contemplating what they had just witnessed.
“So what happens now?” Li finally asked.
“We send up a flare. It’s a long walk back to Seattle. By now AEGIS will have recovered Nepthys, discovered keeping station unmanned not far away.”
“Excuse me for asking, but how did a blind—and forgive me, old—woman do all that?”
“I am disabled, Mr Li, Not disarmed. The oldest lesson of warfare is never to underestimate your opponent. Or overestimate yourself. I could easily have failed had I not had access to your powers.”
“Yeah, about that,” Li began.
“That is a lesson for tomorrow, if you are willing. I think you will make a fine student.”
“Okay, check. But remind me to never make you mad.”
The Hunting Pack
by Todd Downing
The air was heavy and smelled of rotting meat, like the sultry breath of a gator in the bayou during high summer. Wet and weighed down as if the sky itself was a colossal duvet and the world beneath it a sick child swaddled in a sweltering cocoon by an overprotective matron. A blanket of primordial heat that made green things flourish, and pink and brown things simmer in their own fat.
Loana took note of the tiny rivulet of perspiration that ran from the nape of her neck down her right shoulder blade, making its way to the small of her back, but she did not move. Her olive complexion shone wet in the dappled sunlight of the jungle’s edge. Her face was a mask of feral instinct, eyes the color of garnet, chestnut locks cascading to her shoulders.
Her quarry, a spinosaur feasting on a fresh kill of its own, stopped in mid-bite and tested the air.
Loana was downwind, and absolutely silent. Eventually the creature relaxed and went back to its meal.
Like others of her tribe, Loana wore almost nothing, out of practicality. What little she did wear was functional in the extreme, and completely made from the remnants of her kills. A simple halter and loincloth of tanned iguanodon hide kept her vulnerable parts secure, a pair of wrapped boots armoring her lower legs against razor grass and smaller varieties of biting creatures. Her forearms were braced with twin prongs of sharpened bone, bound tightly with strips of dinosaur leather.
Her left shoulder bore the skull of some vanquished theropod, which acted as a kind of pauldron against attack from that side. Her right side was unencumbered in that regard, carrying only the bone shanks strapped to her arm, and a small arsenal of spears and javelins. Some were two-meter lengths of sharpened bone, like the skewers on her arms. Others were longer—three meters or more, hewn from native acacia trees, and capped with deadly spear points of chipped obsidian.
She crouched in the tall grass at the jungle mouth bordering the wetlands along a vast plain explorers from the outer world had named the Dinosaur Coast. A stream that began high in the mountains now meandered through some small, grassy dunes to the sea, providing fish with a handy spawning ground—and hungry spinosaurs with plenty of prey.
Every inch of Loana’s suntanned frame was coiled vigilance. Spinosaurs were uncanny opponents, seemingly able to outguess the savviest of hunters. But they were also large and meaty, and could feed the entire extended tribe for a week or more. If she could avoid being snapped up by its giant crocodilian jaws, or slashed open by its front talons, or eviscerated by its dorsal sail, or crushed by its massive tail or muscular hind legs.
This particular spinosaur happened to be a huge specimen, seven meters tall at the shoulder and eighteen meters from nose to tail tip. A massive, lurching, eating machine that would seek no quarter, nor offer any.
Loana gripped the longest spear in a wrapped fist. She tensed, her leg muscles ready to spring.
Then she caught the tiniest motion in the scrub brush to her left, and knew she was no longer alone in this hunt.
The spinosaur reared back. It, too, had felt something change on the wind.
Instantly a large theropod of the raptor variety sprang from the mouth of the jungle, sprinting toward the spinosaur at top speed. The massive quarry spun to face the oncoming threat, which angled its left hindquarters toward Loana.
Perfect, she thought, and leaped from the tall grass, spear in hand.
She cleared the sandy bank in a few swift strides, padding across the open marsh at top speed. Her breath was hot in her chest.
As she closed with the target, she made sure to keep her peripheral vision wide, tracking the raptor running in from the front. Suddenly, on her right, another of the same type of raptor came racing up the beach from behind a massive boulder. Loana knew that rock. It was a good hiding place. She’d only passed on it because she preferred the all-over camouflage of the tall grass near the jungle.
Then something fell into step slightly behind and to her left, and she knew without looking that a third raptor was keeping pace. It had probably tracked her for an hour or more, waiting in the shadows of the rainforest. Watching her. Waiting for her to lead its pack right to a prime kill.
After all, that was the plan.
Loana heard the strides of the beast on her left approach at twice her own speed. Timing on this maneuver had to be precise. She counted off the last three paces in her head and planted the butt of the long spear in the mossy ground, vaulting up and forward. The sprinting raptor was beneath her in a moment, and she landed softly on its back—right foot braced near the pelvis, left between its shoulder blades. The two moved as a nightmarish freight train, the charging theropod and its human rider, feral and bristling with weapons.
It had taken her a month to teach Spot this stunt. She’d had made it a priority, as it put her closer to a large target’s vital zones.
The last hazard, of course, was the spinosaur’s thrashing tail, which it whipped back and forth to protect its rear quarter. Using her evolved binocular vision, Loana saw the mighty appendage crack to the right like a whip and begin its snakelike return toward them. Tapping her left foot in her mount’s shoulder blade, Loana crouched, almost a surfing stance. The spinosaur’s tail cut a swathe of air in their direction. At the last possible moment, the raptor sprang into the heavy tropical air. Loana suddenly found herself at her quarry’s shoulder level.
Leaping from her mount’s shoulders, Loana sailed up, over the spinosaur’s back, over the mass of coiled muscle and thick hide. She impacted its dorsal sail on its left side, sliding down to land atop its hunched shoulders with her full weight on the point of the long spear. It plunged deep into the back of the creature’s neck. Another thrust with all of her might, and the spear popped through, out the front of its throat.
The spinosaur roared, and there was an audible gurgle in the sound.
Spot came down at the creature’s left haunch, digging into sinews of flesh with his feathered talons and curved hind claws. The spinosaur twisted to face the source of its agony, to no avail. The other raptors vied for the giant theropod’s attention, leaping and slicing at its forelimbs and right flank with hooked claws and furious, gnashing teeth.
Loana was glad they were on her side.
Pulling herself up from beneath the spear, she flung her legs over and around the back of the spinosaur’s neck, now streaked with blood. Again the dinosaur reared and shrieked, almost shaking her off in the bargain.
Clenching both hands into fists, Loana pointed her arm-spikes inward, toward each other, two sharp points poised at each of the creature’s reptilian eyes. She took a deep breath and plunged her arms toward the center of its head.
This was her killing blow, her finishing move. It rarely failed to bring down even the largest of prehistoric game. Once the bone-spikes penetrated the auditory canal and into the brain, there was usually not much fight left. But for some reason, the spinosaur wasn’t getting the message that it was already dead.
Loana felt a spasm down the gargantuan spine, and the monster shook its head violently. Try as she might to keep her thighs clamped tightly at the beast’s neck, the force was too great, and she found herself suddenly flung into the air toward the shallow inlet at its feet. She slapped the water and gasped with the impact, wind forced from her lungs. Stunned momentarily, she gazed up at the giant theropod, It was blind in one eye, bleeding from the head and throat, its cries gurgling and sputtering in the morning air.
Blood from Loana’s own broken nose mixed with the brackish river water, painting her mouth and chin a marbled brown and red. She realized that the gauntlet which formerly housed the twin barbs on her right arm had been stripped from her, and now remained lodged in the beast’s head, which it rattled from side to side in an almost deliriously defiant dance.
The massive predator crashed forward a single step, squinting through its one good eye, a thundering, sputtering roar emanating from its mighty crocodilian jaws. The pack of raptors assaulted it from all angles, but for the first time, Loana could see a determination in its glassy eye.
It stalked toward the lone human figure as she lay stunned in the river shallows a few short yards distant, shivering despite the heat. Leaning forward, its mouth snapped open, angry, glistening teeth on top and bottom, dripping bands of saliva between them. Another blood-curdling roar filled the wetlands, and Loana knew instinctively that her time was at an end. Her body tensed, bracing for impending doom.
The larger female raptor sprinted beneath the spinosaur’s lowered neck and tore its throat out, which caused the dying beast to turn with her, whipping its massive tail into her path.
The charging raptor sailed through the air, dead before she hit the mossy water, her spine broken, chest cavity crushed.
Only then did the spinosaur accept its condition, leaning forward and collapsing into the shallows. It drew one massive, gurgling breath, sputtered a fountain of crimson, and lay still.
It would not take long for the scavengers and carrion-eaters to discover the enormous kill and come sniffing around. Loana knew her tribe would soon arrive, to carve up the beast and secure the meat back in their impressive network of caves. For the moment, she was content to stagger to the dead raptor, fall to her knees in the muck and mud, and cry silently as the two younger dinosaurs circled them, nosing and nudging the carcass, to no avail.
The mother raptor’s name was Daisy. Loana had saved her hatchlings left for dead by the rampaging tyrannosaur which had killed an AEGIS survey party six years previous. The very survey party that Loana’s mother and father had led. She remembered Daisy wasn’t sure about her at first, but when this young human began to apply skilled first aid, nursing them back to health, a slow trust began to build. Eventually two of the three hatchlings recovered.
“Luanne Baxter” was sixteen when the tyrannosaur shattered the picket wall and thundered through the surveyor encampment, snapping up her father in its powerful jaws, crushing her mother under clawed, sinewy feet and legs. She saw her father, bloody and perforated in that huge bear trap of a mouth, thrusting his camp knife into the beast’s right eye before the top half of him dropped to the grassy hill. Three other members of the survey crew tried to fight back, each torn in half by those savage, dagger teeth. By the time the pounding footfalls passed and Luanne crept tentatively from her hiding place in the hollow of a dead tree, she could see that the job had been thorough. Not one of the surveyors was left alive.
In point of fact, there wasn’t much in the way of remains to be buried. The crew’s temporary shelters lay in shreds, every weapon either bent in half or emptied of ammunition, with no spare cartridges to be found. She managed to salvage her father’s camp knife, and fill a pack full of sundry first aid supplies and some clothes. A dented canteen, and a half-finished map that had been drawn by her mother rounded out her haul. And only then, standing atop that rise, where the crew had been certain they’d be safe from any carnivorous predators, gazing around at the blood streaked grass and broken tents…
She wept.
This wasn’t a bad dream—it was real, it had happened. She was a teenage orphan in a strange, wild, and primal land. She was marooned in the Hollow Earth. If she wanted to survive she would have to find a safer “home base”. Someplace much higher up, perhaps in the mountains to the south and west, which was incidentally the same direction the T-rex had gone. Figuring this apex predator was both easy to track and tended to clear everything in its path, she decided to follow it, working her way toward the mountains.
She came across the raptors the following morning, arriving at the aftermath of a brutal encounter. Daisy lay wounded at one end of the clearing, while three new hatchlings tried to hide in the dappled jungle sunlight. The tyrannosaur had bulldozed straight through the clearing, crushing two unhatched but viable eggs in addition to the damage to the mother and one of the three hatchlings.
