Nomads The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 32. The Fall of the Talsonar

  If a Governor is killed his power shall go to the strongest.

  Law of the Talsonar.

  Surrounding the Talsonar City, were the remnants of hundreds of Dropships, most of their human cargo, was left to die. The power struggle within the stone city, had disrupted the normal absorption of outcasts from other planets, there was no room for new arrivals. So they were left outside the city, where they soon became food, for predators of all kinds. Thousands of ravenous Sun-droppers, feasted on the decaying carcasses, Screechers large and small, came great distances, for their gruesome share.

  The Nomad tribes that traded with the Talsonar, no longer went to the stone city. The different factions within, fought for the remaining supply of Grana, without it, they would soon die. A once thriving and powerful people, were now reduced to scavenging and taking what they needed from others of their kind. The only one thing remained. Those with power could survive, those without would die. Because this, the city became divided, those at the top and those below.

  High in the Governor' Chamber, Tamar-Ran looked out over his domain. It was not the place he had left, when he led the Hal-Jafar to fight the Outlanders. Now, he was leader in name only, real power had been taken from his hands.

  He sat in a large stuffed chair, quietly drinking from a great tankard of marsh beer. Sitting on the floor next to him, were two naked Sin-Cravers, both of them female. Unlike others of his high rank, he did not take pleasure from both genders. There were few of his species in the stone city, these two, were of exceptional beauty, the effects of the pleasure drug called Ice, had not yet marred their loveliness. They did not mind lying with the lion man, they were well fed, and he rarely struck them.

  Tamar-Ran, thought back over his raucous life, he remembered when he first landed on Gorn, just more cargo in a Dropship, a condemned convict, without any hope of returning to his home planet. He thought about his time as a gladiator in the arena, and later as a Headbreaker for the Governor. He remembered his time as the Captain of the Hal-Jafar, the enforcers of the Stone City. Now, he was the Lord of a broken domain, a General without an army.

  He took another deep draft of his marsh beer, then wiped his hairy face with the back of his hand. It was not a bad life; he thought; after all I did kill many men, and there were plenty of maidens to hold. He looked around the room, it was filled with treasures of all kinds. Gold, silver, and finely wrought armor, taken from fallen enemies. A chest full of Sagar teeth and Rimar horn. It was enough, to trade for whatever he wanted, but then, he never traded for anything, he just took it; and why not? He asked his mind; I am the strongest, and the laws of the Talsonar clearly state that power, should go to the powerful.

  Nodding his hairy head in approval, he took another long drink of his beer. He glanced over at his treasures, now he knew that they were just worthless trinkets, there was nothing to trade for, and very soon, there would be no more Grana, and that, would be the end. For now, he had a full tankard of beer, and a warm body to hold, for the Lion man, it was enough.

  To the North, and just beyond the blinking light of the Pyramid City, the Iron God continued to move relentlessly South. There had been no damage after the battle with the Caladon, so after refilling its water tanks, and replenishing its supply of Eul, it continued on its journey. Its external appearance had changed, now there were the long-range weapons, of the vanquished tribe, mounted on the steel skin of the monster. The Spotters and Repair-bots, had worked quickly, making use of the heavy guns. Although not the particle Blaze-cannons or Hydriline torpedoes that it had used so efficiently during its Stars Wars. They would do until something better could be found. Now they were tied into the main Weapons Console, when the order was given, they would open fire on whatever target the Orb selected.

  Inside the moving machine, the great mind was pondering upon the trophies of its victory, hundreds of severed heads, now sat piled one atop the other. Young and old alike, making a pyramid of the dead, before the Orb. To the organic mind, they seemed to be a collection of none-functioning cranial containers. They no longer had any purpose, the more it contemplated them, the more it seemed to understand their meaning, soon it found a slight pleasure in seeing them.

  Pleasure, it was a strange thing to the Orb, it was programmed to wage warfare and destroy. Whether it found pleasure in that or not, was irrelevant. All that mattered, was carrying out its primary purpose, nothing else. It had mind-linked with the Shadowman, and that had contaminated the Organic Responsive Brain, now it saw things differently.

  “You have done well by bringing me these heads,” it said to the Task-robot, “now all shall know that I am a strong God!”

  Hearing his master call himself a God, confused the metal servant, with a grinding sound from its motor treads, it drew close to the glowing sphere. “In the future, do you wish to be addressed as God?” it asked.

  The Orb thought this over for a moment, then replied. “Yes.”

  “Understood”, said the Task-robot, “I will make the necessary corrections”, it moved away to do just that.

  Nearby, the Darkman held one of the grisly heads in his metal hands, he scanned it with his ocular eyepiece, looking deep into its organic compounds. He calculated its mineral, calcium, and liquid content, he understood its organic functions, and exactly how much sustaining fuel, could be rendered from its mass. All these were things that he would never have thought about before, now it seemed to be a part of his mind, as natural as breathing. Then he laughed.

  “The Caladon are weak”, he called out, “I am more powerful than their God!”

  Now understanding why, the Orb laughed too.

  Valen was still alive, he was not sure how that could be, because he was still without his armor and weapons. He had thought about returning to his people's camp, and taking what he needed. He knew it was a sacrilege, to touch another warrior’s weapon, it would surely anger Horgon, the God of Destiny. Then he would whisper in the ear of Isarie, and soon his soul would be wandering in the Afterlife. So rather than anger the Gods, he left it all behind, putting his trust in himself. Luck was with him, he found a dead Rimar, and after driving off the Sun-droppers, he and his Whiptail, filled their bellies with its flesh. He was still without war-ax or dragon’s teeth, he did find a half-buried Dropship, and he scavenged a jagged piece of steel from it, which would make an effective weapon. Now with a piece of fresh meat tied to his saddle, and his hand holding the steel, he once more, began to follow the Iron God.

  It was an easy trail, the huge metal monster, left deep tracks in the soft earth, and as the creature moved, a great column of smoke rose into the sky, like a body dancer's veil. To an Outlander, giving away your presence, was a grave mistake, they always covered their tracks, leaving nothing behind, least an enemy use it to plan an attack. Atos did not seem to care, being a God, it had nothing to fear.

  All day and all night, the lone Caladone warrior, followed the metal monster, then as Sunbirth rose, he saw at last, the blinking light of the Talsonar City. He was still a long way, from the stone and steel structure, through the morning haze, the beacon pulsed like a great guiding star.

  Atos travels to the enemy’s stronghold; he thought, unlike before, he was content to see the Iron God heading for that evil place. “Let them die”, he said to his mount, “they are a vile people who poison our land”. He realized that if the steel monster destroyed the Stone City, it would feed on its remains, becoming even more powerful. I should warn them; he thought. He would be killed instantly, if he came within weapons range, so he decided to move to the high ground, near the great pyramid. There to pray that Atos and the Half-Souls, would destroy each other.

  “Nearing contact range of the designated coordinates”, the Task-robot reported, “we will be within firing range, in six point one time standards”.

  “Understood”, replied the Orb, “you have done well and will be rewarded”.

  Once again, the Command robot d
id not understand what its master was saying, reward meant nothing to the metal creature, it spoke again, “understood my God”. Then it turned away, to began to coordinating the Command Consoles for the battle ahead.

  The Darkman now stood close to his master, with each passing day, his mind filled more and more, with images and information that had not been there before. He saw great planets and moons, binary stars and lone chunks of rock, floating in an endless sea of darkness. Quasars, gas giants, radiation clusters, twin Magma Rings, Inter Dimensional folds, all was there before him. He looked into the tinniest fragments of atoms, taking in all the glory of the Outer Rim. He looked on, as great Lightships burst apart, like field melons, being struck by lightning. He gazed at Ring Worlds as they were torn apart, by explosions beyond measure. All this and more, flooded his mind, making him aware that he too, was more than a man, more than a Nomad or Shadowman, had ever been. He was a God!

  If I am a God? He thought; who do I serve? He looked up at the glowing Orb, to see it pulsing with energy; Atos is a God and so am I, how can this be? Then all that was forgotten, as his mind slowly turned from calculations and programming, to be filled with one image. One that he could not understand, at first it was a jumbled scene of dark and light, then it slowly cleared. It was a vision of a insignificant female, holding a tiny creature in her arms. The face of the woman, was kind and loving, as she gazed at the thing she was holding, she smiled.

  What was she holding? he thought; what is this thing that makes her content? His mind continued to dwell on this strange sight, trying to understand what meaning it could have, and why he should want to know?

  Then he heard the Task-robot.“Enemy within range”.

  “Open fire!” he heard his mind say, but it was the Orb's voice he heard.

  When Tamar-Ran heard the signal alarms ring out, he was lying in the arms of the Sin-Cravers. Quickly, he jumped to his clawed feet, and began to put on his uniform. He had just pulled on his trousers, when the captain of the Hal-Jafar, raced into his chamber.

  “My lord”, he shouted, “we are under attack”.

  “By whom?” he shouted back.

  The soldier just shook his head, “I do not know my lord, it is some kind of, of?”

  “WHAT?” the lion man screamed.

  The soldier thought for a moment, then looked at his master, “it is....Huge!”

  Tamar-Ran fanatically pulled on his dress jacket, then fixed his wide belt around his middle. Taking one last gulp from a golden tankard at his bedside, he raced from the room.

  Down the hallway he ran, and although he was a big man, his pace, was faster than most of creatures that called the Stone City their home. After turning left and right a few times, he made his way into the Stone city's observation room. There were many officers there, including some lower ranking Captains and Lieutenents, as the Governor entered, they bowed their heads in respect.

  Tamar-Ran had no time for pleasantries, he moved to a large glass-viewing window, and looked out over the landscape. He did not need Magno-glassess, to see what was heading his way.

  Tamar-Ran was a veteran of many Outer Rim conflicts, he had seen, many great land war machines. As he gazed upon the steel and bone monstrosity that now threatened him, he understood one thing.

  He must fight!

  “Order all city weapons to open fire”, he commanded, “call out anyone who can carry a weapon, and have them stand by”.

  At first, the Generals, around him did not move, many of them were not really warriors at all, they just put on the uniform, to show that they had some power in the Stone City. The rest, were not seasoned by battle, just those that remained behind, when the Talsonar went out to fight the Nomads.

  Tamar-Ran knew all this, but he had no one else, they would follow his command, or he would kill them. “Do as I say. NOW!” he roared, not wanting to end their lives just yet, they all hurried from the room, leaving the lion man alone.

  The Governor turned back to the window, he watched as the monster drew closer, then he smiled for deep inside him, lived a beast waiting to break free.

  Valen reined in his Whiptail, and looked down from his vantage point near the Pyramid City. Below he could see the gun ports of the Stone City opening, its weapons moving into position. The heavy guns, were alot like those that were traded to the Nomads for Grana. Much larger of course, and able to shoot a longer distance, they relied on simple explosive energy, rather than the complex power sources that the Outer Rim planets used. The Guardian used its power, to render all advanced forms of energy obsolete, therefore battles were waged, using the primitive technology of ages long past.

  As the Caladone warrior looked on, he saw a great blast of smoke and the air thundered, like the bellowing of an Earth shaker.

  “Several large projectiles arching to our position”, reported the Task-robot “shields are at maximum”.

  “Understood”, replied the Orb, “fire all weapons, when in range”.

  The chamber rocked, as three shock waves rolled throughout the great machine.

  The Weapons Console sparked, but it was undamaged, and reported to the Command Robot.

  “All weapons ready to fire, awaiting distance alignment.”

  “Distance to first opportunity, within six standards”, the Navigation Console said.

  The Orb began to glow brighter now, “understood, fire at first opportunity, and destroy the enemy”.

  The Darkman said nothing, his mind filled with images; I will destroy them, I am a strong God.

  The Orb's Electromagnetic shielding, was strong enough to divert the destructive force of the projectiles, it was still some distance away from the Stone City. The closer it got, the more powerful became the impacts.

  “Projectile impacts to outer hull”, the Task-robot said coldly, “secondary hull is holding, within range, now.”

  “Fire all weapons”, the Orb commanded.

  Immediately the chamber rocked, as the long-range guns it had taken from the Caladone, opened fire.

  Tamar-Ran saw the smoke from the metal monster, he watched as direct hits struck his domain. In a burst of fire and smoke, three of the city's defensive guns, were destroyed, or too damaged, to return fire. There had been no time to close the outer openings of the city, and without the added armoring the Talsonar, would be vulnerable.

  The Governor shouted to a Captain at his side. “Send out all soldiers, to attack that thing!” Not wanting to die by the lion man’s hand, the soldier did as he was told.

  As Tamar-Ran turned back to look out of the observation window, it burst apart in a shower of glass and debris. The Governor was blown off his feet, landing hard against the opposite chamber wall. His body was strong, and he rose up growling and cursing, at whatever, had done this to him. After venting his fury, by throwing several large chairs, out through the broken portal, he turned and left the room.

  The great doors of the city opened, and a flood of soldiers and refuges, poured out. Some, desperate to escape the iron monster that now threatened them, ran away into the Outlands. Others dropped to their knees, and prayed to their many Gods, for deliverance, saying that they would change their ways and sin no more. Most tried to fight with whatever they had. The Hal-Jafar soldiers, used their Chamber rifles, firing wildly at the oncoming beast, hoping to find some weak spot.

  Atos had drawn close enough, for its outer barrier to reach the city, when it did, the Orb took control of their minds. One by one, they dropped their weapons, and fell to the ground screaming in agony. Some species were less affected than others, they continued to resist, but as the metal monster moved closer, their pain increased. All the while, the guns of the city continued to fire, as did the weapons of the steel God.

  “Damage to outer hull”, the Task-robot reported, “inner hull holding, we are returning fire”.

  “Understood”, said the Orb, “they cannot withstand our power, they will die!”

  Hearing this the Darkman smiled, “yes they will die!” In h
is mind, he could see images of death and destruction, they were without dimension, merely shadows of real battle. Suddenly, the Shadowman was overcome with a desire, to see and hear what was going on. He bolted from the chamber, making his way to the exit door, a few turns of the handle, and he was outside.

  He stood on the surface of his master, and looked out at the furious war raging around him. Smoke and dust was everywhere, and he heard the screams of the dying. Hearing them die, made the Cyberman content.

  They are my enemy; he thought; and all enemies must be defeated, it is what I was programmed to do!

  Valen watched as the steel beast approached the stone city. He saw its inhabitants die by the thousand, and although he should have been content, he was not. Killing an enemy in battle, meant glory for the victor, watching them, being slaughtered by a metal monster, brought only shame.

  They were my enemy; he thought; even an enemy, deserves a clean death.

  Suddenly, a projectile from the Talsonar City, exploded in front of him. Both he and his Whiptail, were blown through the air, landing several meters away. The Caladone warrior landed hard, he rolled over and over several times, before laying on the ground with his face in the dir. Beside him, his Whiptail lay dead, with a broken neck and a great wound in its abdomen.

  Valen did not move, but his chest rose and fell, in long labored breaths. His eyes stayed closed, if he had opened them, he would not have wanted, to see what happened next.

  Atos was almost at the city now. As it drew closer, its weapons continued firing with unwavering accuracy, destroying the Talsonar's canons power, leaving them defenseless.

  “Projectile fire, discontinued”, the Task-robot reported.

  The Orb glowed with a powerful light, “deploy grapples and penetrate outer shell”.

  With a great bellowing of steam and smoke, the two great appendages, opened up from the front of the machine. Its two huge claws, slowly opened and closed, as it moved towards the stone city. As it did, thousands of helpless humanoid’s died under its massive treads, others were scalded to death, as it expelled great waves of searing hot steam.

  With an ear splitting, grinding sound, the claws began to dig into the outer walls of the Pyramid City. They tore away huge chunks of steel and stone, exposing the inner workings of the structure. Hundreds of helpless inhabitants, were lifted up, then dropped screaming to the ground. Fire and smoke, started to bellow out, as the infrastructure began to crumble. More of the supporting beams and columns, were torn out, reducing the Talsonar stronghold, to rubble.

  The Darkman was showered with debris, and once or twice, he was almost crushed by a great stone. He did not return to the interior of the Iron God, instead, laughing he dropped down to the ground, where he could enjoy the destruction more. With his mechanical legs and right arm, he crushed the heads of those, who lay in the dirt. If he saw a Hal-Jafar soldier, trying to raise his weapon to fire at him, he would pick them up, and break their necks. All the while he would laugh, and laugh again, because he was strong, and they were weak.

  As he moved further away from his master, he saw a large humanoid coming towards him, his face was wide and covered in hair, he held a smoking chamber rifle in his large hands.

  Tamar-Ran had escaped from the city, as he ran out to face the great metal beast that was destroying his home, he felt the hot searing pain in his mind. Being the strongest of the Talsonar, he did not fall to his knees like some weakling or slave. No he kept firing his weapon and roaring out a curse to the Gods. Now his rifle was empty, and the pain was slowly sapping his will, but he would not die lying on the ground, when he saw the metal man, he vowed to take him into the Afterlife with him.

  The Darkman smiled, as the Lion man struggled towards him, he knew that he was a God, and Gods cannot be killed by the weak. He called out to the man, “who are you, to think you can destroy me?”

  The Lion man threw down his weapon and looked his enemy in the face. “I am Tamar-Ran, Governor of the Talsonar, and I am the strongest!” With a roar, he leapt on the Shadowman.

  The attack was so fast, the Half-human did not have time to react. He was thrown to the ground, as he went down, he managed to grasp the neck of the lion man in his steel fist. He could have easily killed him there and then, but he wanted to play with city dweller, before ending his life. He stood upright on his powerful legs, holding the governor, so that he could look into his eyes.

  “You are weak,” he said, “too weak, to kill a God”, he laughed again.

  Tamar-Ran could feel the enormous power of the steel fingers that held him in an unbreakable grip, but he would not die without a fight. Ignoring the agonizing pain in his mind, he summoned all is considerable strength, to swing his left hand upward, cutting into the scarred face of the Shadowman. Without stopping, he reached out for the metal man's left arm. Grasping it firmly, he pulled with all his might, there was a ripping of flesh, and the arm came away in his hands.

  “Yaaaaaaaaa!’ the Darkman cried out, closing his fist, with the horrible sound of breaking bone, Tamar-Ran died.

  He threw the lifeless body to the ground, seizing the stump of his arm, with his metal fingers, he gripped hard. He managed to stop the bleeding, uttering a curse, he quickly returned to his steel home.

  Inside the Orb cried out in pain, and the light from the sphere turned from blue to red. Inside its clear housing, it rippled and shook, as if it was being shocked with too much power, or some malfunction in its environmental stabilizers. It was something that the Task-robot had never seen before, so it disconnected from the Main Control Consoles and moved to its master. “Are you injured my God?” it asked.

  The red light from the Orb, slowly returned to a blue glow and its shaking stopped. For a moment or two, it just laid still, then it spoke, “deploy all interactive controllers and begin reconfiguration”.

  “Understood”, replied the Task-robot, it returned to the Main Control Consoles and connected itself to them. “Discontinue weapons, deploy interactive controller’s, begin reconfiguration.”

  “Understood”, said the Weapons Console, “discontinuing projectile fire”.

  “Energy drain is considerable”, said the Power Console, “alternate locomotion will need replenishing”.

  As the information was being relayed, to carry out the orders of the God, the Darkman staggered into the chamber. The left side of his body, was covered in blood and he clenched his broken teeth in pain. As soon as he sat down Repair-bots and several larger mechanical servants, surrounded him. This time they did not wait for the Task-robot's command.

  “Repair me!” shouted the Darkman.

  Hearing the orders, the Repair-bots began their work, the Cyberman sat unmoving, he did not cry out in pain, he was now a God, and Gods do not weep like children.

  All that day and into the night, the metal spiders did their work. They moved out of the Iron God, to hunt down any humanoids that might be of value to their master. It did not matter if they tried to hide, in the deepest, darkest, reaches of the Stone City, or at its very top, they were found. Once found, the metal spiders attached to their necks, and they became the slaves of the Orb. Soon thousands, tens of thousands of workers, began the task, ordered by the great mind. They removed machinery, conduits, steel bracing, wire, anything of value to the Orb. If they died, there were thousands more, to take their place. They worked like Blaze-ants, ever moving without rest or nourishment, the once mighty Talsonar were now in a city of the walking dead.

  When Sunbirth rose, they continued working. Hungry Sun-droppers and Screechers, being immune to the mind power of the metal God, devoured those that were dead. Some distance away from the fallen city, a Caladone warrior slowly opened his eyes.

  Valen had laid unconscious through the night, now as the light of morning fell across his face, he sat up and tried to focus his eyes. It took him a moment or two, his head felt like he had hit it against a Shellback, soon his vision cleared, he looked down at the Talsonar city, and the God that was f
eeding upon it.

  Atos lives; he thought; and he is growing.

  It was true, the steel monster was much larger now, it had feasted on the Stone City. It now incorporated any undamaged Talsonar weapons into massive armored turrets, adding smaller ones as clusters of bracing fire. To judge by the work taking place, there was still more to come.

  The God is stronger now and he is growing.

  Valen slowly rose to his feet, he quickly checked that he had no broken any bones, or other serious injuries. To his contentment, he was not gravely injured, he would live to fight another day. His Whiptail was not so lucky, already several small Sun-droppers, were tearing at its flesh. Soon there would be nothing left, but bones to bleach in the sunlight.

  The young Caladone, walked slowly away from his dead mount, he had only taken a few steps, when he saw a great shadow falling over him. He no time to reacted, two huge talons seized him about the middle, and pulled him into the air. Fighting with all his might, Valen struggled to free himself from the griping claws. Craning his neck, he looked up to see that he was now the prisoner of a giant Screecher. He pounded against the claws as the ground fell away, knowing that he would never fulfill his oath, the Iron God had won.