by Geoff Palmer
Tim found himself agreeing with his friend. They really should try to keep these things!
A shadow passed over them as they navigated the long incline that led to the entrance to the gully. They looked up and saw the smooth underside of the Eltherian ship. It was travelling at little more than treetop height, silent except for a low hum and a rustle of air, and as it reached the brow of the hill ahead, it dropped out of sight.
Ludokrus checked his watch. ‘Where has she been? According to the receiver, she already land more than one half-hour.’
Norman checked the receiver attached to the cradle on his handlebars. ‘Dunno,’ he called. ‘Looks like this thing’s playing up. I’m getting a double reading. Maybe our programming’s mucked something up.’
‘Watch the track!’ Tim yelled as they bounced into a deep rut and headed for the cliff edge.
Norman swung the bike back in a long low skid.
They reached the warning signs at the top of the gully in time to see the ship settle in the open space opposite the hut below. It hovered briefly as four support struts extended from its smooth hull, then settled lightly, balanced and level on the uneven ground.
It was the same basic design as the one they’d seen in the forest — two silvery saucers, one inverted and placed atop the other — but this ship was larger.
‘It’s bigger,’ Tim said.
‘Last was just escape pod. This is proper evac ship. Take more peoples.’
Flaps appeared in the ship’s upper surface and a loud whooshing sound began. It was now making more noise than when it was in flight.
‘What’s it doing?’
‘Thermo-dump. She has shield. See how she does not get all burn from coming through your atmosphere? She store the heat from entry, but now must be expel. Will take some minutes.’
Tim recalled the blackened underside of their former craft. This ship was unmarked.
‘Are you sure it’s safe to go down there?’ Coral said.
‘Ship would not land if it was not. She make a survey first. Besides, look.’
He pointed. Beyond the Hope and Sanity signs a huge slip blocked the far end of the gully. A wall of boulders had come crashing down from both sides. It looked recent. Dust still hung in the air.
‘What happened there?’
Ludokrus shook his head. ‘Does not look good for the Sentinel. But our ship is here now, and we have time to make a proper goodbye.’
‘Oh great,’ Coral muttered.
They headed down the track, still cautious, alert to any change in their surroundings. Tim even kept one eye on the weather, but the gully was as lifeless as it had ever been.
The ship’s exhaust volume dropped an octave as they neared the hut and an opening appeared on its underside. A metal ramp slid out and settled on the dusty ground.
Norman set his bike on its stand and unclipped the receiver. ‘Can we take a look inside?’
‘Sure.’
As they made their way towards the ship, there was a rumble further up the valley. Something stirred. They looked to see rocks falling from the slip that blocked the end.
‘That’s weird.’
Suddenly, a second ship rose from its hiding place, streaming dust and debris, shaking off its camouflage. Its design was vastly different from the other craft. A slope-fronted box studded with a dense mass of complex fittings that crackled with static electricity as it swung towards them.
They stared in awe.
‘That vapour trail we saw,’ Tim said. ‘It wasn’t your ship.’
The words were barely out his mouth when it opened fire. A staccato blast of laser light aimed squarely at the other ship.
‘Take cover!’ Ludokrus yelled as the ground around them erupted in white-hot jets.
57 : Deflection Profile
Alice parked across the road from the Old Oak Café and told the apparently empty car that she wouldn’t be long. She locked up carefully and crossed the street.
The moment she entered, she saw that Eric and Crystal weren’t waiting for her. Only three tables were occupied. An elderly couple, a family group, and a man on his own. Alice checked her watch, took a table from which she could keep her eye on her car, and ordered herbal tea.
It was delivered by a chatty waitress. ‘You just missed all the excitement. We had a TV star in here. That one from the news. The one that’s in all the magazines.’
‘Crystal Starbrite?’
‘Did you see her?’
‘I was supposed to be meeting her here.’
‘Really?’ The waitress looked sceptical.
‘How long ago did they leave?’
The girl glanced at the wall clock. ‘Fifteen minutes, maybe. Looked like they were in a hurry.’
Alice took out her cellphone and switched it on. Now she’d returned to civilisation it was working again. It beeped immediately. A missed call. She listened to the voice message.
‘Hi Alice. Eric here from Nine News. Guess you’re still on the road and have your phone off. Look, we have to dash out for a bit, but we’re staying in town tonight. We’re at Archer’s Hotel on the main road. Grab yourself something to eat and drink — say it’s on the Nine News account — and we’ll see you in an hour or so. Something big’s going on down here, and you could be our key witness.’
Alice replayed the message then looked up at a flutter of noise outside. She was just in time to see a helicopter rise from a field behind the town and head south.
* * *
The last view Tim had of the Eltherian ship was of the ramp withdrawing and the hatch slamming shut. A second later, still stunned by the ferocity of the attack, he was racing away with the others.
At first they headed for the hut, but when a white-hot fragment the size of a fist punched right through both sides leaving nothing but two smoking holes, they changed their minds. Norman, in the lead, dived into the low trench formed by the dry stream bed. The others followed. It was, at best, a marginal shelter, but at least they were out of the direct line of flying fragments.
‘Everyone OK?’ Ludokrus gasped.
Tim, who’d been trailing them, found the others staring at him in horror.
‘What?’ he said, then looked down at his jacket. There were two blackened holes in it; one front, one back, just below his left arm pit. ‘Whoa!’ he said, raising his arm to prove — partly to himself — that the fragment had passed straight through the fabric. ‘I never even felt that.’
Another burst of fire. Another wave of searing fragments whistled overhead. They crouched lower.
There was a brief lull. Up the valley, the Sentinel ship rose higher, seeking a more commanding position, then the firing recommenced. Five fiery fingers jetted out in parallel from the five barrels of the centrally mounted gun, all focussed on a single spot.
Tim risked a peek and was surprised to find the Eltherian craft was still there.
‘Why doesn’t it do something?’
‘She is lifeboat. No attack. Only shield.’
As the next wave came in, he saw the shield’s deflection profile a metre proud of the ship’s surface, a shape that matched its smooth contours.
‘Why not fly off then? At least get out of the firing line.’
‘Lifeboat mission is to rescue. If danger, other ships should defend. But those we do not have.’
During the next lull, Tim checked again. The shield’s outline was now partially visible, illuminated by five glowing dots that matched the five parallel lines of fire.
‘How long can it hold out?’ he asked.
‘Not long,’ Ludokrus said.
Another barrage started, targeted squarely at the five weakened points in the shield. They began glowing amber.
Fragments of energy shrapnel whizzed overhead, sizzling as they struck the ground, each one another knick in the rapidly depleting shield. All they could do was cower in the ditch and await the ship’s imminent destruction. Then what? Tim thought. Then where would the Sentinels direct their fire?
58 : No Time for Goodbyes
‘They’re incredibly accurate.’ Norman studied the Sentinel ship as it hovered on thrusters, bobbing slightly in the breeze that moved across the rim of the gully. ‘They’re hitting the exact same spot every time. Like they’re triangulating somehow.’
The five glowing dots expanded as more and more energy was sapped from the Eltherian ship’s shield. The centres now glowed dull red. As they watched, another barrage came in, striking them again with pinpoint accuracy. The dull red colour turned fiery.
Typical Norman, Tim thought. Admiring their attacker’s technical skills when they all knew what was coming next. He fingered the hole in his jacket. Maybe it would be like that. Maybe it would be so quick they wouldn’t even notice.
He looked around desperately, but there was nowhere else to run. Apart from the creek bed and the mineshafts, there was no cover at all. The Sentinel ship’s elevated position meant it commanded the gully from end to end.
Norman settled the receiver on the ground in front of him and fiddled with the controls. Tim was surprised he was still carrying it. Another barrage came in. They all ducked except Norman.
‘You know I said yesterday I reckoned they had the whole gully under surveillance? Well according to this there’s a camera array on the hut.’
‘How do you know that, and who cares anyway?’ Tim yelled back as dust and whizzing fragments fell like rain.
‘It’s transmitting and this is a receiver. We reprogrammed it to pick up everything,’ Norman said. ‘There’s another one on that signpost up the gully. They’re using them to triangulate their fire. We have to do something.’
‘Yeah, like what?’
But Norman was already on his feet, taking advantage of a lull in firing to scramble up the bank.
‘No, wait!’ Tim yelled.
Norman ignored him and sprinted across the open ground. The Sentinel ship swung in his direction and five shots sliced up the earth a metre from his pounding feet.
* * *
‘Quickly, quickly, shootee monkey!’
‘Stop, you idiot! Focus on the ship. We’ll deal with them later.’
‘But I like to make them run.’
‘Oh we’ll make them run all right. And jump. And dance. But after we’ve finished off that ship.’
* * *
Norman threw himself into a low roll as the five shots hit the ground behind him. The impact actually helped his momentum, and he came to rest flat against the side of the hut. If he was right about the camera, he should be safe here. They wouldn’t deliberately shoot out their own targeting device. But if he was wrong, they’d blast the hut — and him — to pieces.
He gritted his teeth, held his breath and glanced up at the wall above him. It was peppered with holes, some of them still smoking. It would come in the next barrage. They were spaced at five second intervals, maybe to recharge the gun. He counted down. Four ... three ... two ...
The gunfire resumed, but the focus returned to the ship. He let out his breath.
‘What the hell is he doing?’ Coral said.
Tim pointed to a blinking dot on the discarded receiver. At this range it showed the precise location of the camera: on the highest point of the roof at the back of the hut. ‘I think he’s going to try to take it out.’
They watched Norman clamber on to one of the fuel drums. The camera was on the roof directly above him, half a metre from the end of his outstretched arms. He jumped and hooked his hands over the bargeboard it was fixed to. His arms flexed as he tried to raise himself up. One foot shot out, scrambling for purchase against the side of the hut. It didn’t find anything to lock against and he dropped back.
‘Go on, you can do it!’ Tim muttered.
Norman tried again. He swung his whole body this time, almost hooked a foot over the edge of the roof, but it slipped off and he dropped back once more.
The jolt loosened the board. He was still hanging on and felt it give a little, so this time, instead of climbing or swinging, he just held on and bounced up and down, tugging with all his weight.
The top of the board tilted as one rotten corner pulled through the nails that secured it. He felt it give. Bounced harder. Then suddenly the whole thing came away, catching him off balance. He staggered off the edge of the fuel drum, still hanging on to the board. Gravity did the rest.
He fell backwards, taking the board with him, loosening others it was attached to before landing flat on his back. Winded, he sat up just as the falling timber caught up with him. A long, solid piece cracked against his skull and he slumped back down again, unconscious.
* * *
‘We’ve lost the targeting lock.’
‘Must be shrapnel. Never mind, we’re almost through.’
* * *
Ludokrus saw the next barrage strike an undamaged portion of the ship’s shield. Norman had been right. He’d bought the ship a couple of minutes at least. Now it was his turn to buy them a little more.
‘You still have the memory bulb?’ he called to Alkemy.
‘Of course.’
‘Look after it,’ he said, giving her arm a quick squeeze as he sprang to his feet and started running.
* * *
‘Look, another monkey!’
‘Focus. Focus.’
* * *
‘Ludokrus!’ Coral screamed. ‘Where are you going?’
He ignored her. There was no time for goodbyes. He followed the line of the creek bed as it wound deep into the gully, and raced towards the Sentinel ship.
59 : Suicide Mission
‘Norman!’ Tim yelled.
No response. Not even when a shower of fizzing shrapnel scored the ground all round him. He’d been right about the camera. Though the incoming fire was still well aimed, it no longer had the pinpoint accuracy of before. Already, the five weakened impact points had lost their angry red appearance, dropping back to a deeper orange as the shield regenerated. But the withering attack continued. He might have stopped them working at the weakened points, but the shield as a whole was still taking a tremendous pounding.
‘Norman!’
Tim looked round for support, but the others were focussed on Ludokrus sprinting up the gully. He must have heard what Norman said about the signpost because he lashed out with a foot as he passed by, shearing the partly rotted timber off at the base. It fell to the ground. Hope board flew into the air while Sanity was driven into the earth by the weight of the falling post. Ludokrus ran on.
Directly below the exit passage, Ludokrus took cover behind some boulders and studied the rock face above. The way up was rough, steep and stony. And very exposed. It was close to the attacking ship too. He could hear the whine of its thrusters and stabilisers, a constant roar beneath the intermittent sound of its guns. It would only take a single shot to finish him. Even if they missed, even if they just dislodged some of the loose rock above, he’d be done for. Still, it always had been a suicide mission. And it really was their only hope. He took a breath and continued on.
‘Oh my god, what’s he doing?’ Coral pressed her hands to her face.
Tim watched too, his fallen friend forgotten for a moment as Ludokrus sprang from cover, tripped and stumbled on a piece of the shattered signpost, then pounded up the scree almost directly beneath the Sentinels’ ship. It seemed impossible. There was no way he’d make it even halfway without being noticed.
A distraction, Tim thought. He needs a distraction.
With that he leapt from the ditch and sprinted for the hut.
‘Tim!’
* * *
‘Another one. Oh please!’
‘Concentrate. Work first, play later. Finish off the ship.’
* * *
Miraculously, incomprehensibly, the shot he’d been expecting never came, but Ludokrus didn’t pause to wonder at his luck and dived straight into the gloomy, glass-smooth exit passage. His momentum and the gentle incline carried him to the end where he was stopped abruptly by th
e mining laser’s tripod, now a permanent fixture, welded to the floor with lava.
His outstretched hand took most of the impact, but he still managed to crack his head on one of the legs. He got to his feet. A trickle of blood ran down his face. He brushed it aside and felt about in the dark. The laser cutter lay where he’d left it, propped on some stones. He grabbed it and hauled it to the exit, straining at the weight. Then he got a shoulder behind it and pushed for all he was worth.
* * *
Tim reached Norman’s sprawled form and threw himself flat as another barrage struck the Eltherian ship. A fragment of shrapnel fizzed through the air above him, practically parting his hair.
‘Oi!’ He shook Norman’s shoulder.
Norman groaned.
‘You’re alive then,’ Tim muttered, grabbing his ankles and dragging him back into the comparative shelter of what was left of the hut.
* * *
Ludokrus felt around the laser’s chassis and flicked on the power switch, knowing it would take twenty seconds to build the necessary charge. The steady whine began at once, rising slowly, and he counted off the seconds as he pushed towards the exit.
There was no time for proper positioning. He’d reached fifteen already by the time he got there, but the Sentinel ship was in sight, its squat shape hovering almost directly overhead. He paused, aiming the heavy instrument as best he could.
Sixteen ... seventeen ...
The charging whine, shrill now, faded. He aimed and zoomed the beam.
Eighteen ... nineteen ... twenty ...
Nothing. He thought he’d bumped the Off switch or damaged something in his haste to push it up the shaft.
... twenty-one ... twenty-two ...
Still nothing. A wave of despair ran through him. No! It couldn’t be ... Then he realised that in his excitement he’d been counting too quickly.
Phmmm.
The glassy walls flickered crimson. He snatched his fingers from the cooling fins and saw a faint red flash strike one corner of the Sentinel ship, making it shudder and dip as if caught by an unexpected gust of wind.
‘Ha!’ he muttered.
As he hoped, they hadn’t bothered with their own shields. Why would they, attacking a defenceless lifeboat? He imagined them scrambling with their controls, trying to work out what had happened. With a bit of luck he might get in one more shot before they spotted him.
