The Hidden Treasure of Darfor

by David Shewring

The blue-skinned alien hit the wall of the corridor hard and landed in a heap on the floor, groaning loudly. Patrick audibly gulped as he wondered what kind of creature had done that to him.

  ‘This is it,’ said Saleek. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Patrick wordlessly agreed with a nod and the two walked forwards quickly with a new sense of purpose. They came through the double doors and the sight that greeted them was not a particularly pleasant one. They found themselves in a very large open room that was in absolute chaos. The oomlocks were engaged in a ferocious battle with the semloids and what little furniture was in the room had been upturned and transformed into makeshift cover as the fighting raged on. Bolts of energy streaked through the air and made ominous sizzling sounds as they struck their targets with explosions of bright sparks. Some of the aliens were engaged in protracted fire-fights, leaning out of cover to hurl a barrage of rounds at their targets before hiding again, while others were engaged in brutal hand to hand combat. If you listened carefully, you could hear the sounds of bones snapping and teeth being sent flying but this was barely audible over the din of weapons fire and screaming that filled the air. Patrick glanced to his right and saw a battered table that had been turned on its side. Thinking fast, he half-helped and half-dragged Saleek over to it. Once safely there, Patrick carefully peered out from behind cover to try and make sense of what was going on.

  The oomlocks and the semloids clearly hated each other, that much was obvious as they fought fiercely. While the oomlocks were relatively tall, blue-skinned and very humanoid in appearance, the semloids were quite different. For a start, they had tails. Patrick wasn’t sure why this feature stuck out the most to him but he instantly noticed it. As evolution progressed, most species lost their tails and other ancillary appendages as they became redundant. By the time a species became civilized and especially by the time their technology had progressed to the point of allowing them to explore space, most had become relatively humanoid in appearance. As a result of this, most of the species that Patrick had seen so far had been similar to humans and also completely tailless. Their tails were rather short and stocky, just like the rest of the semloids’ bodies. They were all a few inches smaller than their oomlock counterparts but they were much stockier and very thickly built. It seemed like they were stronger than their blue-skinned foes too, as they almost always seemed to win in hand to hand combat, Patrick observed as a nearby semloid decked an oomlock with a balled up fist and the blue alien fell to the ground instantly. The semloids had green and orange scaly skin and they also had long claws and long snouts. They seemed to make excellent fighters, noted the human as he made a mental note never to knock over a semloid’s drink in a bar. At least, not without apologising profusely and buying him two more straight after. Patrick couldn’t see any way out though, so he leaned out from cover a little more. Craning his neck, he could just about see a rectangle of orange light at the far end of the room and adjacent to that was a door that had been ripped from its hinges.

  That’s our way out of here, thought Patrick.

  The fighting was everywhere and there didn’t seem to be a totally clear path from their cover to the open doorway. Patrick slipped back behind the up-turned table.

  ‘I can see a way out,’ he said. ‘But I have no idea how we’re going to get to it from here.’

  Saleek, who had been sitting, got up and poked his head over the top of the table, just enough to see what was going on. He very quickly sat down again after only a second or two.

  ‘This ain’t how I saw this plan workin’ out,’ he muttered. ‘There’s no decent cover from here to the doorway. That means stealth is out.’

  ‘Well, we’re in no shape to fight anyone. Especially those semloids. My God, they look really strong,’ commented Patrick as he peered out from behind the table and saw an enraged semloid pounce on a helpless oomlock and start viciously biting his throat and slashing his torso at the same time.

  Patrick shot a worried glance at Saleek, who exhaled slowly and looked like he was about to lose consciousness. His eyelids began to drop over his glazed eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ said Patrick as he gave the spiky lyan a gentle shove. ‘Don’t you dare pass out on me. You hear?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don’t get your eshells in a twist,’ replied Saleek, suddenly appearing much more awake again as he waved a dismissive hand at the human.

  Just as it appeared they had no choice but to try and half-sneak and half-fight their way out of the chaotic room, an oomlock came flying through the air over Patrick’s and Saleek’s heads. He landed awkwardly with a clatter on the hard floor about two metres away from them. Saleek crawled forwards (ignoring Patrick’s hissed protests) and grabbed the oomlock’s weapon. He prised the alien’s limp fingers off the handle and scrambled back behind the up-turned table once more.

  ‘Relax, he’s out cold,’ said Saleek as he showed Patrick the weapon he had recovered.

  It was jet-black in colour and slender in design. The slim handle turned into a blocky shape which had two thin barrels extruding from it.

  ‘What is that?’ asked Patrick.

  ‘An energy pistol,’ explained Saleek as he checked that the weapon was still functional.

  It was.

  ‘Here,’ said the lyan as he offered the pistol to Patrick.

  ‘What? Nuh-uh. No way.’

  ‘What is your problem? Why not?’

  ‘I’ve told you before. I don’t want to hurt anyone if I can help it. I certainly don’t want to kill anyone!’

  Saleek rolled his eyes before priming the weapon himself.

  ‘What are you doing?’ hissed Patrick.

  ‘Look buddy, I’m tired and I’m in no mood for your superior human morals, or whatever it is. I don’t wanna kill anyone if I can help it, but I’m interested in one thing: survival. It’s us or them. If they try an’ stop us, they’re gettin’ shot.’

  Saleek got up to a crouch, the tips of his spikes just poking out from over the top of the table. Patrick kneeled beside him.

  ‘We’re gettin’ outta here,’ declared Saleek confidently. ‘You help me walk. I’ll take care of anyone who gets in our way.’

  Patrick swallowed hard. He wasn’t entirely happy with this way of escaping, but at that moment he could think of no other alternative.

  ‘Fine,’ the human reluctantly agreed as he helped Saleek put his arm around his shoulder. ‘Let’s go!’

  Stumbling slightly, the pair came out from behind the upturned table and began walking to their left. It turned out that this was excellent timing, as seconds later the table was split in two by an oomlock and semloid locked in vicious combat falling onto it. The two seemed oblivious to splinters of wood becoming lodged in their skin as they continued to wrestle on the remains of the table, each trying desperately to gain an advantage in the heated struggle.

  Patrick and Saleek kept walking and reached a wall. Staying as low as they could, they attempted to creep quietly along the perimeter of the room and attract as little attention as possible. However, being the only lyan and human in the whole room made them about as conspicuous as two hippies at a bankers’ convention. They made it another few metres before they were noticed by a couple of oomlocks engaged in a fire-fight with some semloids. As one of the oomlocks started to turn around and bring his weapon to bear, Saleek aimed and, with a shaky finger, squeezed the trigger contact on the energy pistol. A lance of yellow-orange energy shot out of the barrels and struck the oomlock on his chest. Whimpering quietly, the oomlock clutched his now blackened chest and fell forwards onto the ground face-first. The second oomlock began to point his weapon at Saleek but he was far too slow. The lyan again pressed the trigger contact on his pistol and seconds later the threat had been neutralized with both blue aliens sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

  Patrick swallowed hard and forced himself to look away from the two bodies on the ground. He knew how dangerous the situation was and knew that he could not afford to get distracted. Tha
t being said, he was shocked at being so close when Saleek fired his weapon and he could not get the image of the charred, faintly smoking torso of the first oomlock out of his mind. Pushing aside the tumult of emotions he currently felt, the human concentrated on the task at hand: staying alive. He and Saleek walked onwards. They made it another few metres before crouching behind some nearby cover for a quick breather, then setting off again. Surprisingly, they made it almost all the way to the doorway without further incident. Unfortunately, it appeared as if fate was toying with them that particular day. The human and lyan stopped by a collection of smashed chairs around fifteen metres away from the exit. Standing behind a pile of rubble and screaming whilst firing his pistol into the chaos before him was none other than Korrol, the oomlock who had imprisoned and tortured them both. As Korrol got back behind cover and started to reload his weapon, he laid eyes on the fleeing human and lyan. His initial reaction was one of shock which very quickly turned into fear as he saw Saleek aiming the energy pistol at his head. Patrick squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the sound of Korrol hitting the ground, dead. Instead, all he heard was a whine and a sputtering sound. The human opened his eyes again to see Saleek frantically trying to fix whatever had gone wrong with the energy pistol in his hands. Patrick glanced at Korrol and saw the oomlock’s expression transition smoothly from fear into an evil, sadistic smile. The blue alien calmly and slowly reloaded his own weapon, priming it with a flourish as Saleek continued in vain to fix his energy pistol which refused to work. Patrick gulped and was about to accept the inevitable when he laid eyes on a spiky ball that was resting on a pile of twisted metal about a metre to his right. Instantly recognizing the object, Patrick knew what he had to do. The human quickly flung himself to the right and landed by the pile of metal. Korrol, mistaking the human’s actions as a pathetic attempt to avoid being shot, actually laughed out loud and didn’t even move, as if he was sadistically enjoying seeing his prey in terror, supremely confident in his own superiority. Big mistake. As the oomlock took a single step forwards and casually brought his weapon to bear, aiming squarely at Saleek, Patrick grabbed the orb from the wreckage. Suddenly a bolt of electric-blue energy arced through the air and enveloped a shocked Korrol where he stood. The energy crackled and hissed violently as it coursed through the oomlock’s body, dancing along his now-glowing skin and making his joints lock up. Seconds later, an unconscious Korrol dropped his weapon and fell to the ground hard. He would have one hell of a headache when he woke up, but he was still alive.

  Staring at the panting human in disbelief, Saleek whispered, ‘Patrick? Did you do that?’

  All Patrick could do was nod. His heart was pounding and he was in shock. He instinctively pocketed the immobiliser orb without thinking and made his way over to Saleek.

  ‘Are you OK?’ asked Patrick automatically.

  Saleek looked at the human with a concerned gaze.

  ‘That’s my line, buddy. I’m okay. Are you all right? You look really pale.’

  ‘Y-yeah, I’ll be fine,’ replied Patrick unconvincingly.

  He helped Saleek stand up and the two of them made their way over to the exit that had been ripped into the wall of the building when the semloids first attacked. Just for good measure, as they walked past Korrol’s limp body Saleek threw the malfunctioning pistol at him. It bounced off the unconscious oomlock’s face and landed on the ground with a clatter. Now when he woke up, Korrol would have a huge bruise on his face in addition to a pounding headache. The human and lyan stepped through the exit and into the cool air beyond. It was night-time outside and there was very little street lighting around. What light there was bathed the edges of nearby buildings in an eerie orange glow that only served to make their surroundings appear all the more alien to Patrick. With no idea where they were, Patrick turned left and started walking down the street, helping Saleek to walk as he did so. Mercifully, the clamour of voices and weapons fire began to die down the farther away from the building they travelled. After a couple of minutes, Patrick stopped and dropped to a knee, tiredness washing over him and rendering his muscles virtually useless. Saleek removed his arm from the human’s shoulder and sat down on the cold pavement. The streets appeared totally deserted – there was no one around and most of the buildings were either shut, abandoned or in even worse condition than the one from which they had just escaped.

  Breathing heavily, Patrick glanced at Saleek and said, ‘What do we do now?’

  The lyan suddenly looked very tired indeed, like he was fighting to keep his eyes open.

  ‘We gotta...get back...to the ship,’ he mumbled weakly.

  ‘Yeah, I know. But how?’ said Patrick as he joined the spiky alien and sat down on the floor. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘I...dunno...’ came the reply.

  Patrick looked all around him but there was nothing that could tell him their current location except for a single neon sign that was attached to the side of a nearby building and was flickering on and off. He tried to read the characters but he struggled to read Standard on a good day, and this was most definitely not one of his best days. The bright shapes of the characters began to move and swim around the human’s vision, making it even harder to make sense of them.

  ‘Oh God...’ whispered Patrick, on the verge of giving up.

  He looked at Saleek one more time. The lyan’s head had dropped and he looked just about ready to pass out. The human took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He looked up at the night sky which was a very dark purple colour, streaked with black clouds and dotted with shining stars. He was about to give in to his body, which was begging him to let it rest for a while, when suddenly something caught his eye. At first he thought it was just another star, albeit a tad brighter than the others in the sky. Then, when he saw it moving out of the corner of his vision, he realised it couldn’t be a celestial object. Patrick peered hard at the bright dot of light moving through the night sky. It seemed to be getting closer. If he strained his ears, he could just about detect a faint humming sound. As the light got nearer, Patrick could tell it was some kind of flying craft.

  Summoning his remaining strength, Patrick sucked in a huge lungful of air and screamed out, ‘HEY! Over here! Over here! Help!’

  This, as it turned out, was completely unnecessary. Watching in disbelief, Patrick’s jaw dropped as the craft slowed down, dropped in altitude and parked on the pavement a few metres away from them.

  Just when the human was convinced that he couldn’t possibly get any luckier, one of the craft’s doors opened and a digitised voice could be heard saying, ‘Hover-taxi for Saleek and Patrick. Hover-taxi for Saleek and Patrick. Please enter the vehicle.’

  Without questioning how or why this had happened, Patrick helped Saleek to stand and they both walked over to the craft and got inside. Once they were sitting in the surprisingly comfortable padded seats of the hover-taxi, the door automatically closed and the engine began to whine loudly. Patrick was about to try and decipher the controls of the craft when all of a sudden, it took off of its own accord. The human looked out of the rear window and saw the orange-tinged edges of the black buildings fade away into the darkness below as the craft continued to gain altitude. He looked across at Saleek, who had passed out but was at least comfortable and safe in the passenger seat of the hover-taxi. Patrick leaned forwards and spoke to the control panel at the front of the craft’s interior.

  ‘Um...taxi?’ he ventured, feeling slightly stupid as he did so.

  ‘Please state inquiry or request,’ came a digitised voice through concealed speakers somewhere on the control panel.

  Feeling slightly less stupid, Patrick asked, ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘This taxi has been booked to take you to the nearest spaceport. You will arrive at your destination in approximately thirty five minutes.’

  Without even bothering to ask who had booked the taxi or how they knew where he was, Patrick simply accepted the superlative good fortune that fate had just handed him. S
inking into the faintly warm, padded cushioning of the hover-taxi seat, Patrick closed his eyes and within seconds was fast asleep.

  Chapter 15