The Negator, page 10
The second soldier shouted in outrage and rushed at me with his blade held high. This one was wearing a helmet, so a head shot wasn’t going to work. I’d have to do this the hard way.
Then I saw the purple sash across his chest armor. In the torchlight, I saw his narrow, squinty, greedy eyes. It was the centurion, the soldier who had pushed my head, the one who reminded me of my greatest enemy—fat boy.
I dropped the drum and torch, picking up the fallen soldier’s cutlass. It was heavier than I’d expected, with a curved blade that looked like it had seen plenty of use. The balance was odd, but steel was steel, and I needed it fast.
Squinty Eyes swung at me as if he meant it. I barely got my blade up in time, the impact sending shock waves through my arm. This guy was strong.
He followed up with a thrust at my midsection that I barely managed to deflect with another clink of steel. Then he tried to hook my blade with his hilt and twist it out of my hand. The torque nearly wrenched my wrist.
He laughed as I stumbled backward, trying to get some distance.
“You’re mine,” he said. “The Chief Priestess can’t protect you now.”
He pressed his advantage, maybe his armor giving him confidence, maybe his anger at me driving him.
This was a street fight with sharp objects, meaning there were no rules. Besides, he’d stolen my wooden knife. This was my chance—
No. He was someone else with those greedy eyes. I hated him, though. I dearly hated him.
I jumped back over a root, and he tripped over it coming after me. I used that to run back to the other soldier.
“Coward!” he shouted.
I grabbed the hatchet, his insult burning against my ears. It was like fat boy staring me down after all those years ago. I’d been powerless then. I wasn’t tonight.
He showed his teeth as he approached. “I’m going to gut you, outlander. You should have died for daring to gaze upon the priestesses as you did. You profaned them.”
“I saved their lives,” I said.
“And besmirched them with your leers,” he said.
“Look, dude—”
He shouted and swept his cutlass at my legs.
I jumped for all I was worth. The blade passed by harmlessly.
His armor must have made him top-heavy. With the miss, he had to scramble to keep his balance.
My feet thudded on the forest floor and I saw my opening. I hurled the hatchet at him for all I was worth.
The handle hit him in the face. I’d meant for the axe head to do that. He staggered, crying out.
I stepped in, gripped my cutlass with both hands, and swung. I meant to cut his head clean off. Rage and fear coursed through me in equal measure. I knew others had to hear this, and would come running. So I only had seconds to do this. But I was also much taller than he was, taller than any of these dudes.
Instead of the blade hitting his neck, I smashed the cutlass across his helmet. It made a terrible clang. I felt it in my arms, and I cut through metal and must have hit his skull. Maybe the guy had thick hair—I didn’t know.
He collapsed, though, disappearing into the fronds on the forest floor.
I stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Part of me was upset I’d only hit his head. Another part was glad. He wasn’t fat boy. He was a commander on an alien planet protecting the priestesses. He’d been doing his job, and I had been leering like no one’s business. I’d felt I’d earned the right for saving their hides.
Now I was sucking down alien air, trying to catch my breath. It dawned on me that I heard men calling out. Beaters and soldiers were converging on my position.
I grabbed Squinty Eyes’ flintlock and powder pouch, checking to make sure the weapon was loaded. It was heavier than I’d expected, with an ornate brass trigger guard and wooden stock that showed signs of long use. There was a small bag of shot and a powder horn attached to his belt, which I also took.
I heard others crashing through the forest toward me: the clink of armor and the snap of breaking branches.
I turned and ran in the direction of what I thought was the temple, crashing through the underbrush, officers shouting orders behind me.
I clutched the stolen pistol and cutlass, my lungs burning as I raced through the alien forest. I had no idea what fate waited for me at the end of this. Could I still hook up with Nira? Hadn’t she said something about teleporters?
I looked back. The others were far too close.
I looked ahead, wanting to run harder, but I was near my limit. Well, it wasn’t over until it was over. I wasn’t strapped to a lab table or inside a circle surrounded by witches. Whatever happened, I planned to do it fighting to the very end.
-25-
Surprisingly, the sound of pursuit grew fainter as I slipped through the forest, crashing as often as I ran and panting like an idiot. I went through a dense patch, and maybe that made the difference in letting me pull away. The twin moons cast everything in an eerie light and cast long, endless shadows, and that might have helped as well.
My bare feet were killing me, but I didn’t dare slow down.
After a time, I stopped anyway. I was sweating and breathing hard. I needed water, and my stomach ached for maybe five or six hamburgers.
Panting in the moonlight, I pulled out Nira’s sketched map and tried to orient myself. The rendezvous point was supposed to be near a cluster of three fallen fern trees just off a central path. Was that anywhere close to here?
I looked around, but I had no idea where I was. This was bad. I needed my stuff. I needed intel on Axion, and I really wanted my blaster.
I walked for a time, coming upon several paths. Crossing them made my stomach clench. I felt safer in the trackless parts of the forest. Then I spied a temple tower through swaying fronds. It was bright in the moonlight.
I checked again. Nira had put the temple on the map. I turned the map. Ah. I thought the rendezvous point was that way.
Map-reading was one of my skills, even sketch maps like this. You see, I’d roamed the Western States of America for several years. Unlike most, I hadn’t used my cell for directions, sticking to the old ways of looking at maps and asking gas station attendants. They usually said to check my phone, and I often had to ask several times before they told me.
Anyway, I picked up the pace, ignoring the burning in my lungs and the protests from my lacerated feet.
I checked the map again, looked up, found the temple seemed to have shifted and thus changed my direction once again. Maybe fifteen minutes later I saw three massive fern trunks lying across each other. The big fronds had seen better days. The fallen ferns created a natural shelter, just as Nira had described.
I approached with the flintlock ready. For all I knew, this was a trap—Nira might have changed her mind or been found out.
“Kane?” a soft voice called from the shadows beneath the fallen ferns.
“Nira?”
She emerged from the shadows, still wearing the simple robes, but now she carried a leather satchel slung over her shoulder.
“Thank the ancestors you made it,” she said, rushing to me. “The soldiers are in an uproar.”
“Tell me about it. They’re still out there so we need to move while we can.”
She nodded, gesturing for me to follow. “There’s an old entrance the others seldom use and maybe don’t even remember.”
We trekked through another dense area of the forest, although the spires of the temple drew closer. Then we slid into a gully, using it even though it was thick with old forest debris and heavy with the smell of decomposing vegetation.
“Here,” Nira whispered, stopping beside what looked like a solid wall of earth and roots.
She pressed against a section of the wall, and it swung inward with barely a whisper.
That was cool.
Beyond was a narrow stone corridor. Nira pulled out a glass ball, shaking it until it glowed. Nice.
The passage was tight, barely wide enough for my shoulders, but it felt like heaven after running through the forest. The stone floor was smooth under my feet, and the air was cool and clean.
“We can finally risk this,” Nira said, unslinging the satchel and handing it to me. “I retrieved these like I said.”
I opened the satchel and felt a surge of relief. My blaster was there, along with the field computer, the memory stick, and even my boots. There was also dark clothing that looked like it might actually fit me.
“You’re amazing,” I said.
Nira smiled, although it was strained. “High Priestess Serena has contacted the other temples about you. They’re getting ready to send reinforcements.”
I turned, stripped, and pulled on the new clothes, which were smoother and tougher. It felt great to get my socks and boots back on.
The blaster… I hoped it wouldn’t give me any more trouble. It still had half a charge.
“I need to check something,” I said, pulling out the field computer and inserting the memory stick.
A few minutes later, I looked up and grinned. “I have the codes for the teleporter. I’m thinking Axion planned to use them. Now we have access.”
Nira nodded.
I pocketed the memory stick and shoved the computer back into the satchel.
“I should tell you,” Nira said. “There’s a planet-wide alert, because an android has breached the Mountain Temple.”
“You know about androids?” I said.
“Some arrive here every few years.”
“From space?” I said.
Nira stared at me.
“From the heavens?” I said.
“Yes, the heavens.”
I bet the Batmarsh Eleventh Quarantine Fleet sent down androids from time to time. That would explain it anyway.
“Have androids ever come to this temple?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” Nira said.
“How do you deal with them?”
“I don’t understand the question?”
“What happens when androids arrive?” I said.
“Oh. We destroy them.”
“Just like that?” I asked.
“We have special tools for just that.”
“Do the androids look human?” I asked.
“Most of the time,” Nira said.
I thought of something. “How do you figure out if they’re androids or not?”
“Through logic tests,” Nira said.
“Meaning what?”
“Giving them nonsensical information and seeing how they handle it,” she said.
I wondered if that was why Serena had told me they had been at the sub in order to sacrifice themselves. She’d told me nonsense to see if I were an android.
“Nira, do you people sacrifice humans to the Sea Peoples?”
“What?” Nira said. “No! We are at war with them and they with us. Everyone knows that.”
I nodded. I needed to get to the Mountain Temple where Axion had gone… and do what exactly? Play it by ear, I guess.
“Can you lead me to the teleport chamber?” I said.
“Yes,” Nira said, leading me deeper into the tunnel.
What do you know? Maybe this mad gamble might actually work. Would my blaster work when I needed it most—to destroy Axion? Could I really get to this Mountain Temple? I bet the weapon to kill the Burnt Polarion was there.
I stumbled as I followed Nira. I needed food and water, and rest. But no rest for the wicked, just upward and onward, oh yeah.
-26-
The maintenance tunnel twisted through the temple’s foundation like a winding stone serpent, lit by Nira’s glow ball.
In time, we came to a junction where three passages converged. Nira pressed her ear to a wall, listening. After a moment, she motioned for me to follow her down the left tunnel.
The passage began to slope upward.
“Tell me about the teleporters,” I said.
“They are ancient technology,” Nira said. “From before the heavenly siege began. The original builders connected all the temples through the T-chambers. We’ve maintained them, but we don’t fully understand how they function.”
“Who has the access codes?”
“The High Priestess. She guards the secret more carefully than her own life, passing it down to her successor when the time comes.”
We reached another junction, this one with a vertical shaft leading upward. Iron rungs were set into the stone.
“The teleport chamber is three floors up,” Nira said. “First we have to get past the ritual chambers.”
I followed her up the ladder, my boots clanging softly against the metal rungs. The shaft was narrow. If someone discovered us here, we’d be trapped like rats in a pipe.
At the top, Nira pressed another hidden panel. It swung open to reveal a storage room filled with ceremonial robes and with masks hanging from wall pegs, their empty eye sockets fixed on us.
“The main corridor is just beyond this room,” Nira said.
We climbed up and she cracked open the door and peered out. I could hear voices, no doubt priestesses. They sounded farther away, though.
“It’s clear,” Nira said, and we slipped into the corridor.
The walls were covered in elaborate murals, possibly depicting the history of the temple. The floor was polished marble that reflected our movements like a dark mirror. In another spot, ornate columns supported a vaulted ceiling. Braziers filled with sweet-smelling incense burned at regular intervals.
With a turn, Nira led me down a side passage to what looked like a janitor’s closet. Inside, behind mops and cleaning supplies, was a grate set into the wall about four feet off the ground.
“Will you help me with this?” she said.
I grabbed one side and pulled. The metal was old but well-maintained, and it came free with only a slight screech of protest. Beyond was a square duct just wide enough for a person to crawl through.
I raised my eyebrows.
“The temple is on high alert,” Nira said. “This is the wisest way for us to go.”
I nodded.
Nira climbed into the duct and began crawling. I followed, the metal cold against my hands and knees.
In time, Nira stopped.
“Here,” she whispered.
Through a grate, I could see the teleport chamber. It was a circular room with a platform in the center. It seemed to me that this was ancient Polarion technology.
I carefully pushed the grate, holding it steady as it came loose. I lay in the duct on my stomach and lowered the grate as close to the floor as I could, finally letting go.
The grate hit and made noise, but much less than it would have otherwise.
I crawled out of the duct into the chamber, climbing to my feet and helping Nira.
She smiled up into my face. Was she expecting a kiss? I gave her one. Then I went to the controls. This was a lot like the Theron. I activated the main panel and put in the codes Alina had stolen from Axion’s mind.
“Kane,” Nira said.
I looked where she pointed, and grinned.
The teleport platform had begun to glow.
“Nira, you’d better stay here,” I said.
“I should go with you,” she said.
I shook my head. “So far, no one knows you’ve helped me. I could easily fail. If that happens, I don’t want you to go down with me.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Will I ever see you again?”
I stepped to her and took her face in my hands, and gave her a long, lingering kiss this time. Then I released her.
“Maybe,” I said.
There were tears in her eyes as she nodded.
I activated the teleporter and ran onto the platform as it engaged. Moments later, the chamber dissolved into golden motes of light. I felt the familiar sensation of being turned inside out, just as it had happened on the Dreadstar.
I felt strange, and it was unsettling that I could still think during the process.
Then reality reassembled itself. I stood in a different chamber, with narrow windows that looked out onto jagged mountain peaks. The air was thinner and colder.
From what I knew, Axion was here.
Then I heard gunshots and shouts to stand down.
I tucked the flintlock pistol in my belt and jumped off the platform, gripping my blaster.
The gunshots came again.
“Gunfire won’t stop me,” a man said.
I blinked, and my throat caught. I recognized the voice all right. It was Axion. What was happening?
I moved quickly toward the exit, intending to find out.
-27-
I moved through the Mountain Temple corridors, following the sounds of crackling energy and commands being shouted.
The crackling sounds grew louder as I approached what looked like a large chamber. I pressed myself against the wall and peered around the corner.
What I saw made me grin despite everything.
Axion was in deep shit.
The seven-foot android was surrounded by a circle of soldiers, each one holding what looked like a metal staff crackling with electrical energy. These weren’t the flintlock-carrying legionnaires from the Beach Temple. These guys had shock rods that spat blue lightning.
Axion stood in the center of the circle, his metallic skin scorched and blackened in several places. Every time he tried to move toward the perimeter, the soldiers would jab their shock rods, sending arcs of electricity into his body. The android would jerk back, his optical sensors flickering.
“Stand down, metal demon,” one of the soldiers said. He wore a red sash across his armor instead of purple, but he had the same stocky build and harsh features as the centurion I’d tangled with in the forest. “You will submit to interrogation.”
“I am a High Polarion,” Axion said, his voice carrying that familiar arrogant tone even though he was clearly getting his butt handed to him. “You will release me now.”
“You are an abomination,” Red Sash said. “You are metal given false life. The priestesses will decide your fate.”
One of the soldiers jabbed his shock rod closer to Axion’s leg. Blue energy danced across the android’s thigh, and he stumbled backward with a harsh mechanical sound that might have been damaged servos.
