Binary system, p.18
Binary System, page 18
The Skelt conferred. The alien threatening Mahn with the blade pushed the Fahran to the floor. “We will return at sunrise,” it said. The trio of Skelt crossed the chamber in a quicksilver streak and the door slammed shut.
Delia knelt beside Mahn and helped him to his feet. “Are you...?”
“I am fine,” he said, “but you are bleeding.”
She touched her neck, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. “It’s nothing.”
Oma opened a link between their implants.
Oma: Your Imp relayed all that. Well done. You okay?
Delia: A flesh wound. I’m fine. We have until sunrise.
Oma: That gives me plenty of time.
Delia: Where are you?
Oma: Close by. We have the ziggurat in sight. Give me a little while to work something out, okay?
Oma cut the connection.
Delia told Mahn what Oma had said, then pulled the medi-pack from her backpack and attended to her cut, applying stinging antiseptic.
She sat down against the wall, and Mahn dropped into a cross-legged position before her. “I’m dog-tired, Mahn, but I’m too damned nervous to sleep. And anyway, Oma might come up with a plan at any minute.”
“How will she get us out of here?”
“Good question.” She looked around the chamber and up at the thick embrasures of the barred openings. “You Fahran certainly built things to last. This is rock solid and the walls are a metre thick, at least.”
“This was a temple, as were all the other ziggurats.”
Delia regarded the Fahran. “How old are they?”
Mahn turned a palm, “They were built many millennia ago.”
“So they pre-date the coming of Chalto?”
“By many thousands of summers,” he said.
“They’re temples – religious buildings, right? But to which gods?”
“Gods which came before Chalto, but which have been lost in the mists of time.”
She stretched her legs out before her. “And the Skelt? Do they know that Chalto is one of your gods?”
“It is difficult to tell what the Skelt know. They do know that a great ship came down, thirty summers ago, because they battled with Chalto’s disciples and slew them, and attempted to open Chalto’s ship in order to learn its secrets.”
“It must be a strange situation for these Skelt to find themselves in,” she mused aloud. “They know they’re descended from a great star-faring race, which crossed space in vast ships and conquered worlds, and moved on. And they have devolved, lost so much knowledge, and desperately want to regain it, to restore themselves to their former glory.”
“But can you imagine the Skelt amongst the stars,” Mahn said, “terrorising innocent races? The thought is appalling.”
“The cousins of the Valindan Skelt must still be out there, marauding from star to star. Unless, of course, down the millennia they’ve evolved morals, ethics, and become civilised.”
The Fahran was regarding her with his head cocked to one side. “Do you really think that, Delia?”
“I’d like to think it,” she said. “I like to believe in amelioration and redemption on a racial scale. But no, going by what I’ve seen of the Skelt here, I think that’s a forlorn hope.”
She was silent for a time, and then said, “I just hope that the human race, in its expansion across the galaxy, never comes across the Skelt.”
Impatient, she jumped to her feet and crossed to the nearest opening; each one was secured with two thick bars. She gripped a bar and twisted, grunting.
“Delia, what are you doing?”
She moved to the next opening and grasped a bar. “Attempting,” she said, “to work one of these things loose. Even if the resulting opening wouldn’t be big enough for us to squeeze through, then at least I’d have a weapon. It’d give me great delight to cosh the Skelt when they return.”
She hurried to the next opening. So far, all the bars had been set solidly into the embrasures, immovable. She gripped bar after bar with both hands and exerted all her strength. She wondered if she was doing this to keep her mind off the inevitable return of the Skelt, or if she really thought she might be able to prise a bar loose.
And then, after two dozen attempts, she felt a bar give slightly in her grip. “Yes!”
“Delia?”
“It’s moving.” She felt the stone crunch as the bar turned. She twisted it back and forth, working the bar like a pestle in a mortar. The bar gave at both top and bottom. She rocked it back and forth, pulling it towards her, and after three minutes of strenuous effort she managed to work the bar free. It came away suddenly, sending her sprawling across the floor.
“Delia!”
“I’m fine,” she laughed, sitting on her backside and holding the bar up like a trophy.
She returned to the opening. The gap in the window was still not wide enough to admit her, or even Mahn. She gripped the second bar and twisted, then gave up after two minutes. She was succeeding only in giving herself blisters.
“At least we’ve got this,” she said, hoisting the bar. “I don’t feel quite so defenceless now.”
“You must be careful,” Mahn said. “You know how fast the Skelt move.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid.”
She moved to the timber door and pressed her face to a gap between the planks. She made out a cleared boulevard, and a pair of Skelt guards stationed a metre from the door. The second alien had her laser tucked into its bandolier.
If she attacked the Skelt when they returned, and managed to grab her laser...
She rejoined Mahn. “There are two Skelt out there, and one of them has my laser.”
“What do you plan to do?”
Before she could answer, her Imp said, I have Oma here.
Oma: They’ve caught us...
Delia: What? Oma...? Oma!
Silence.
Imp, what’s happening?
I am liaising with Oma’s Implant, Imp said. And two seconds later: Oma and Var have been caught. They are moving this way, under armed escort.
“That’s all we need,” Delia said to herself.
Mahn was staring at her. “Delia?”
She told him that Oma and Var had been apprehended, and the little Fahran leaned against the wall and slid down onto his haunches.
The double door at the far end of the chamber opened and Oma was bundled inside, followed by Var. The door was unceremoniously slammed shut behind them.
Delia rushed over to Oma. “Are you –?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do – there were so may of the damned things. They had us surrounded.”
Var said, “I tried to fight them off, Delia, but they caught Oma and threatened to kill her.”
Oma sat down against the wall and mopped her brown with the sleeve of her jumpsuit.
“They’re coming for us at dawn,” Delia said. “I said I’d lead them to the shuttle. It’s bought us a little time, at least.”
Oma looked at her, bleakly. “Time for what?”
With the iron bar, Delia pointed to the opening from which she’d extracted it. “I had intended to use it as a weapon, but I have an idea.”
Oma peered at the gap. “But it’s hardly large enough...”
“I know, but like I said, I have an idea. I’ve tried to move the second bar in the opening, but it’s set solid. However...” She turned to Var. “Do you think...?” she began.
The spider-crab danced across the stone slabs, piping, “I’m sure I can dislodge it, Delia.”
Oma jumped to her feet. “Be careful. We don’t want to alert the guards.”
They joined Var as she raised a giant claw to the opening. Rather than attempt to grip the remaining bar and work it loose, she inserted her claw into the gap and used it as a lever, exerting ever more pressure.
Var whistled, adjusting her stance and leaning towards the wall. The bar shifted suddenly; the stone surround cracked with a sound that Delia was sure would alert the guards.
Var stopped and all three stood, frozen, and listened.
The Skelt made no move to open the door and investigate.
Delia nodded. “Okay... easy does it, Var.”
The Vo leaned towards the wall again, levering her claw. Delia approached the opening and gripped the bar so that, if it did come free, it wouldn’t clatter off across the floor.
She felt the bar shift, grinding the stone, and a second later it came loose and sent her sprawling for a second time. She lay still, her heart thudding as she listened for the Skelt guards. After five seconds she picked herself up and joined the others at the opening.
Oma said, “Good work, but we can’t all squeeze through. Maybe you and Mahn, Delia. But there’s no way Var or I would make it.”
Delia stared at the opening. “I’ll go. One of the guards has my laser. I’ll make my way around the zig and jump them.”
Oma stared at her, concern etched on her face. “That’s risky.”
“What else do you suggest?”
Oma bit her lip, thinking it over. “Hokay... and then what?”
Her heart thudded. “Once I have my laser I’ll attend to the door. I don’t know how it’s secured, but it’ll be no match for a quick laser pulse. Agreed?”
She looked around at her friends.
Mahn said, “Be very careful.”
“Jesus...” Oma said. “I almost think that we should wait, take out chances when the bastards come for us.”
“What chances? Knowing the Skelt, they’d kill Mahn and Var once we get anywhere near the shuttle – and maybe despatch you and me as well.”
“I was thinking we might overcome them before that,” Oma said uncertainly.
Delia shook her head. “No. This is the best option. There are only two of them out there. And even if I fail, they want me alive for the time being.”
Mahn said, “I want to come with you, Delia.”
“You could do nothing to help her, little one,” Var said.
“I’d be better off working alone,” Delia said. “Okay, Oma?”
Reluctantly, the South African nodded. “Okay.”
“Right,” Delia said, looking up at the opening. “Var, if you’d give me a leg up.”
She stood on Var’s great claw and was lifted towards the opening.
Tucking the irons bars into her waist-band, she inserted her head and shoulders through the gap and squirmed out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SHE STOOD IN the star-speckled night, taking deep breaths.
A channel had been cleared along the side of the ziggurat, but the jungle was encroaching. She reckoned the best way to approach the Skelt guards would be to climb on to the first tier and move stealthy towards the entrance. This would give her the advantage of coming upon the Skelt from above. Using the ledge of the opening as a step, she hauled herself up. She climbed to her feet, gratified to find that the stone beneath her boots was covered with a fine coating of moss which would cushion her footsteps.
Stealthily she made her way along the first tier of the ziggurat towards the entrance.
Her Imp said, I have Oma here.
Oma: You okay, girl?
Delia: Fine. Approaching the guards.
Oma: Anything I can do?
Delia: Just be ready to run out when I overcome the guards. I’ll grab my laser and disable whatever locking mechanism is on the door.
Put like that, it seemed a tall order.
Oma: Will do.
Delia cut the connection and instructed her Imp to maintain silence until further notice.
She came to the corner of the ziggurat, crouched down and listened.
The boulevard before the edifice had been cleared, and thankfully she could see no Skelt along its length. From this angle she was unable to make out the guards. She controlled her breathing and pulled the bars from her waist-band. They would make formidable weapons – but how she might attack and disarm the Skelt, lightning fast as they were, was not something she could pre-plan. Play it by ear, she thought.
She crept along the tier. The ledge was broad, perhaps two metres deep, and this had the advantage of allowing her to hug the wall of the second tier so that she could not be seen by the guards.
Halfway along the ledge, where she judged the entrance to be, she paused and listened again.
She was unable to see the pair, but she could hear them, their clacking conversation loud in the sultry night air.
Hunkering down, she crept forward little by little and peered over the edge.
The two guards stood close together, engaged in conversation. They seemed to be discussing something that one of them was holding. Delia smiled as she realised that it was a second laser – the one the Skelt had evidently taken from Oma. Her own laser, she saw, was tucked into the bandolier of the first guard.
But how to do this, she wondered...?
She looked left and right along the boulevard, paranoid at the thought of Skelt reinforcements.
She was staring up at a rearing ziggurat three along the boulevard when she saw it.
She gasped, hardly daring to believe her eyes, and instructed her Imp to open a channel to Oma.
Delia: Oma?
Oma: Here, girl. What gives?
Delia: I’ve found the Skelt weapon.
Atop the ziggurat, silhouetted against the stars, was the erect barrel of the artillery piece aiming into the skies.
Oma: Well done. Where is it?
Delia told her.
Oma: And the guards?
Delia: Just below me. And they have your laser.
Oma: Great, but be careful. Hell, I wish I was out there with you.
Delia: With luck, you soon will be.
She cut the connection and peered down at the guards.
They were still fascinated by their new toy.
She adjusted her grip on the bars, holding each one at the very end to give her maximum heft when it came to swing them in anger.
The way to go about this was to launch herself down between the guards, clubbing their long, equine skulls as she dropped. She would have the element of surprise on her side, even if they could move far faster than her. With luck, they would be dead or concussed within seconds.
She hunkered down and crept closer to the edge of the tier.
The guard to her left was fingering the laser, as if attempting to work out how to operate the weapon. The second guard stood perhaps half a metre away, peering at its colleague.
She took one last look up and down the boulevard and, seeing no other Skelt, stood up and took a deep breath.
She jumped.
She brought the bar in her left hand down with crushing force, and the Skelt’s skull split with the impact, spraying brain fluid over her hand. The alien crumpled without a sound, dropping the laser.
The alien on her right, perhaps glimpsing her descent, moved fractionally as she brought the bar down, and instead of catching it true on the skull, the bar deflected onto its shoulder. She heard bone crack and the Skelt cry out as it dropped to its knees.
Delia crouched, facing the alien as it staggered to its feet and faced her. It moved lightning fast for its sickle sword, and Delia lunged in fear and desperation.
She clubbed the creature across its head and watched it drop to its knees. She hit it again, mercilessly, and the alien pitched forward at her feet.
Breathing hard, she pulled the laser from the Skelt’s bandolier and retrieved the second weapon from the floor beside its colleague, then turned to the door.
She had expected to find some crude locking mechanism, perhaps a padlock, and was gratified to see that the door was secured by an even more primitive device. A length of timber like a beam barred the double door.
Delia: Oma, I’ve done it.
She hefted the beam, from its brackets and dropped it to the ground, kicking open the door. Oma and Mahn rushed out, followed by Var. Oma stared at the dead Skelt.
“Good going, girl.”
Delia wanted to take the South African in a big bear hug, but instead passed her the second laser. “This way.”
“Where to?”
Delia indicated the ziggurat, three along. “To do what we came here for,” she said.
She sprinted across the boulevard and ducked into the shadow of the opposite ziggurat. The four crouched together and Delia said, “It can’t be long before the Skelt realise what’s happened. I suggest you three vanish into the undergrowth and I’ll scale the zig and destroy the weapon –”
“I don’t like the idea of splitting up...” Oma began.
“Nor do I,” Mahn said.
“It makes sense,” Delia hissed.
“Too late!” Var cried out. “Look...”
Delia turned, her stomach heaving.
Fifty yards along the boulevard, a platoon of a dozen Skelt seethed around the entrance to the erstwhile prison, taking in the open door and the dead guards. Seconds later, spotting the four cowering escapees, they fired a barrage of crossbow bolts. Delia ducked and laid down a tracery of laser fire, accounting for three of the Skelt. More appeared beyond the first platoon, at least twenty aliens who fanned out across the boulevard and advanced. Oma crouched and picked off the Skelt one by one.
“This way!” Delia said, grabbing Mahn’s hand and pulling him along the boulevard towards the ziggurat on which the weapon was situated.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SHE SPRINTED, TURNING from time to time to fire at the Skelt. Ahead, she made out a tumble of stones that had once been the corner of the base of the ziggurat. “Over you go – take cover!”
Mahn and Var scuttled over the tumble and vanished. Delia turned and picked off the approaching Skelt.
“There’s even more of the bastards!” the South African cried.
Twenty or so Skelt emerged from the jungle fifty yards along the boulevard. Crossbow bolts whickered through the air, striking the ziggurat behind Delia and Oma.
“Over the stones,” Delia said, taking Oma’s arm and scaling the tumbled masonry.
