The Atomic Sea: Part Five: Flaming Skies

by Conner, Jack

  The colonel, seeing Avery’s strategy, made the best of it. The yacht skimmed above the waves, through the poisonous haze. Lightning flickered all around, up from the waves, never harming the dirigible, only channeling into the rod. One skewered a plane, which caught fire and corkscrewed into the sea. Another plane burst into flames, and another. Ship after ship plunged into the water, blackened and blazing.

  The fighters pulled up, realizing it. There was no way to go after the yacht, not with it using the sea for protection.

  Avery cried out in triumph even as the lightning shook him.

  “Don’t celebrate so soon,” Janx called, pointing.

  Overhead and still somewhat behind the wave of fighter planes, flew the bombers, huge and majestic, dark against the sky. When they drew directly above the dirigible, all they would have to do was open their bomb bay doors and it would all be over. Avery’s exhilaration drained away, replaced by terror.

  The bombers drew forward, faster than the yacht. Forward ... forward ... almost above them ...

  Avery scowled at Layanna, mentally urging her on. How long would it take for her to restore the Device? They didn’t have long. Please, he thought. Please be now.

  Hildra shouted. With Hildebrand dancing on her shoulder, she pointed forward with her hook. Avery strained his eyes, hoping against hope.

  Steaming toward them from the horizon, Admiral Jons’s battle group churned the water about it. Scores of large ships bristling with guns, including three aircraft carriers, the armada rushed toward the Over-City. Planes buzzed over the Ghenisan battle group, ready for war, hundreds of them. The fading sun glinted off their aluminum hides, turning them a pinkish red.

  And, in the midst of the battle group’s air forces, to Avery’s shock and delight, drifted three rays. Immense, each one shaped something like a manta ray and over a mile wide and, including its long, barbed, trailing tail, several miles long, the beings were host to innumerable troops and pirated Octunggen technology. They would be piloted by psychics who could channel their abilities through the creatures and use them to disorient and sow fear into the hearts of foes. Of course, Octung had psychics of their own, but they did not have rays.

  Even as Hildra pointed and shouted, the rays and planes roared toward the Over-City and the fleet that buzzed before it.

  The Octunggen bombers that had been on the verge of obliterating the yacht broke off and let the fighters come forward to protect them. Avery sagged in relief.

  It happened before he had time to prepare himself. He was still shaking with the vibration of lighting strikes, his ears throbbing from the thunder, his hair on end, when the two air forces struck together directly overhead. Ghenisan planes ripped at Octunggen, and Octunggen fighters tore chunks out of the Ghenisans. Dirigibles of the Lightning Crown, alive with extradimensional weapons, glowed and blurred, turning their weapons on the Ghenisans. Ghenisan planes dove out of the sky, their pilots screaming or melting in their seats. Other planes flickered out of reality or became brittle and broke into a million pieces.

  Avery screamed.

  Just in front of the yacht, something huge erupted from the water. A mountain of dark blue flesh, the whale snapped at them with its great, tooth-lined maw, tendrils fringing its jaw. Some grew through milky blind eyes that dotted its enormous body. Pustules and scars covered the whole expanse. It had obviously thought the low-flying yacht something edible, possibly a drifting gas-squid, or perhaps it was simply in a foul mood.

  Col. vun Cuvastaq jerked a lever. The dirigible shot upward, into the thick of battle. The whale’s jaws snapped shut with an audible whump, spraying water. Avery heard the spray patter against the dirigible’s underside.

  “Not today, you lovely,” Janx called out as the leviathan sounded in a great wash of foam and lightning.

  They were inside the battle. Fighters zipped and roared all about them. Dirigibles too. The awesome rays blocked out the sky overhead, throwing whole aerial battalions into shadow. Their weapons, stolen or reverse-engineered from Octung, flung otherworldly lights on the Octunggen planes. One bomber erupted into green flames and fell from the sky, taking out several fighters on the way down, not all of them Octunggen. One seemed to peel inside-out, dropping screaming soldiers to the sea.

  And then there were the war-boats, the great gunned zeppelins of Octung. They drifted into the battle regally, fearlessly. Machine guns bristled from mounts all along their envelopes—extradimensional weapons, too. That was where the psychics would be gathered, and the generals, commanding the battle from a flying fort. Ghenisan fighters tore at them, but the zeppelins’ weapons turned them aside in flames or worse.

  Not only was the Octunggen force comprised of men and machines and god-given guns, though; scores, perhaps hundreds of the Collossum’s familiars had gone with the host, many flying under their own power. A tide of the race Avery had noted in Lusterqal, equally angelic and otherworldly, flowed toward a Ghenisan aeroplane battle formation and triggered some weapon or ability of theirs, and the planes disintegrated. In another quarter, a great lamprey-like being swallowed a Ghenisan dirigible whole. And there were others, representatives of many races allied to the R’loth Avery was unfamiliar with, some he could make no sense of. It was war out of the hells themselves.

  A fighter buzzed right by the yacht, smoke trailing from its right wing, and he couldn’t tell if it was Ghenisan or Octunggen.

  An Octunggen fighter, guns rattling, bore down on the yacht from above, eclipsing the sky. Another flier smashed into it and both exploded in fragments and fire.

  A fighter drove at them from the rear, forward guns blazing. Janx shot at it and at last it plummeted toward the sea. Other fighters nipped at the yacht, diving and strafing. Bullets punched through wood. Several ripped the envelope, but the yacht stayed aloft.

  Janx firing from the back, Frederick from the front, the yacht plowed on through the chaos, all those aboard urgent to get out of it. The Over-City pursued doggedly behind. It was keeping pace with them, the same distance from them now as it had been at the beginning of their flight. The battle swarmed around it, moving as it moved. Ghenisan fighters blasted at its control towers, and huge cannons and extradimensional weapons fired back. No Ghenisan ship could stand against the Over-City.

  Sheridan had taken up a rifle and was plugging away at the fighters. Avery wasn’t sure if she shot at Ghenisan or Octunggen.

  “You’d better be shooting at the enemy,” he shouted.

  With a tight smile, she said, “I am.”

  Another fighter bore down on them, this one from the front. Frederick fired at it, his bullets bright tracers that streaked to its side. The plane’s machine gun pounded the deck, splintering a line right toward Col. vun Cuvastaq. The colonel had time to look up, and then the bullets slammed him backward, nearly tearing him in two. Blood and guts spattered everywhere.

  Without him at the wheel, the yacht began to list. Avery ran to it, grabbing it with his one free hand. It fought him. He needed two hands for it, but he still gripped the rod in one.

  “Layanna!” he called. “Layanna!”

  If she heard him she gave no sign. She was deeply immersed in restoring the Device. He realized he shouldn’t disturb her. He tried to steer with both hands while at the same time gripping the rod. Where it touched the wheel, the wheel blackened and smoked. He decided to alternate hands to avoid wearing one out.

  He wanted to go to vun Cuvastaq, see if there was anything that could be done for the man, but he knew no one could survive those injuries, and there was no time. Planes flew, rattled and flamed all around him. Desperate, he steered to avoid them, jerking left and right.

  Hildra, Hildebrand in tow, bent over the colonel, and Avery was touched to see concern in her face.

  “Well?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Avery nodded, feeling a twinge of sadness that he had doubted the man; vun Cuvastaq had proven himself loyal to the end.

  Behind Hildra, Layanna still worked o
n the Device. Surely she must be close, Avery thought. Surely.

  He flew them through the battle, dodging fighters and dirigibles and inhuman beings, while Janx and Frederick repelled any that got too close. And then, suddenly, they were almost out. Avery could see empty skies ahead, beyond the battle. Just a little more and it would be safe. Just a little more ...

  “Shit,” said Frederick.

  Avery turned.

  Barreling out of the aerial battle, a great black zeppelin furrowed toward them, guns blazing from its turrets and emplacements. It was huge, the biggest war-boat Avery had ever seen, bristling with weaponry and crackling with otherworldly devices.

  Without warning, pain suffused him. He swayed, hardly able to stand.

  “Uthua,” he gasped, clinging to consciousness. “Uthua’s ... on that ... thing.” The psychic blast had been too powerful to be that of a mere human. Janx, Frederick and Hildra reeled, too.

  The zeppelin drove on, closer with every second. Avery trembled and nearly vomited at the nearness of the Collossum. He could feel Uthua. The wrath of the near-Elder almost shook the air around the zeppelin.

  Janx fired bursts at it, but the war-boat was too big. Its guns fired ten-over, tracking them through the sky, obliterating ships all around them. Avery twisted the wheel one way, then the other, levered them up and down. Hildra frantically compensated with dials and ropes, trimming the ship as it flew.

  But it was no use. The war-boat was on them fast. There was no escaping Uthua this time. Avery glanced constantly over his shoulder to see the zeppelin approaching, feeling a cold wash of certainty come over him. This was it. We failed.

  A great ray eclipsed the sky before them, and Avery swung the yacht up toward the fabulous animal. The creature, its wingspan more than a mile across, flew majestically through the sky, its great wings slowly rising, then falling, strong busts of wind billowing out from every beat. What was more, the air blurred around it as it flew, some sort of planar disturbance. As Avery drew nearer, he could see long ragged scars on its underbelly and sides, signs that it had known battle.

  The back of his skull itched. At first he wasn’t sure if the psychic pressure came from Uthua or the ray, but it increased as he neared the creature and it had a distinctly different feel than Uthua’s mental exertions, which still rocked him. The itching was the psychic aboard the ray, channeling his abilities through the creature.

  “Layanna!” Avery screamed. “Layanna!” This time, perhaps hearing his extreme agitation, she opened her eyes sleepily, and he shouted, “Contact the psychic on that thing! Tell him to combine his forces with the other—”

  A sudden blast from Uthua staggered him, choking him. Haggardly, he swept the yacht up past the huge gaping mouth of the ray and, wrestling with the wheel, shot it over the broad expanse of the ray’s back. He expected to see soldiers and equipment here, but there was nothing, only gray skin and scars. Perhaps the psychic controlled the being from another location, or perhaps it was inside the ray—a common place for the military to position themselves, protected from the elements and with sturdy walls to keep out the gunfire, while they in turn could fire back from the many gun emplacements surgically carved into the animal—in some sort of trance, cross-legged in the creature’s cranial cavity, eyes closed and mind engaged ...

  It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the psychic felt Uthua’s presence. If he had felt Avery’s, he must have felt Uthua’s. Uthua would shine like a torch in the dark to him. And someone who could amplify their talents with a ray ...

  Avery glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, the war-boat had not been thrown off course by Avery’s ploy. The zeppelin rocketed over the front of the ray straight toward the yacht, guns spitting. But, just as Avery had hoped, the zeppelin was not steady. It drifted one way, then another, slowly losing control.

  “Yes!” Avery said. Just a little more ...

  “What’s going on?” Hildra shouted.

  Avery was too busy to answer, but he imagined Uthua at the wheel reeling from the magnified barrage of the ray—but it would not just be one ray, Avery hoped, but many. Per Layanna’s suggestion, if Avery’s hope proved valid, the psychic would have alerted the others of his kind, the other ray controllers, and they would all be focusing their mounts on Uthua. Under their assault, even Uthua would waver, or so Avery prayed. He had known Uthua would be at the wheel, directly leading the hunt just as he had directly led the assault on the Black Sect, just as he had led the reversing of the Device’s functions, performing the bulk of the hands-on duties himself.

  The broad back of the ray stretched on, and on. Avery craned his head over his shoulder to see the zeppelin. It plowed toward him—barely wobbling. Damn. Avery had been sure the psychic barrage would have driven Uthua off course or even into the back of the ray. But the R’loth was too strong.

  The back’s expanse abruptly ended, and Avery swung around the long, trailing tail but kept as close to it as he could. It was his last chance.

  It worked.

  Uthua, pursuing immediately behind and, if nothing, somewhat unsteady, could not avoid the long whipping appendage. The war-boat veered, but not fast enough, and the tail scraped the side of the craft, tearing off a whole section of it, exposing the skeleton-like structure of the underlayment and the gas-bags beneath, and rupturing several.

  The war-boat, very slowly, drifted to the side and plunged toward the sea. All those on the yacht’s deck whooped in joy. But Uthua was not about to go down without striking back, and even as his ship sank toward the surface of the sea, the great ray’s wings ceased moving, its tail stopped lashing, and the splendid beast gracefully plowed toward the sea as well.

  And Uthua was not done.

  For, even as the zeppelin drooped, one of its guns finally found the yacht. Everyone flung themselves to the deck as heavy bullets punched through gunwale and machinery. Rounds riddled the yacht’s envelope. Air hissed from it violently.

  “Damn!” Hildra said.

  Frantically she spun dials and throttled canisters, trying to inflate the envelope, buy them more time, but it was a losing battle.

  Behind them, the zeppelin struck the water with a splash, and beyond it a huge eruption of foam and energy plumed up when the ray hit a moment later.

  Frederick pointed. “Watch out!”

  Avery turned his attention forward. A plane dove at them, on fire and plummeting toward the sea. Avery veered around it, able to smell its smoke and metal. He was close enough to see the agonized look on the pilot’s face. Once again he wasn’t sure if the man was Ghenisan or Octunggen and he had no time to look for colors.

  They were almost out of the battle. Avery could see empty sky beyond the warzone even clearer than before.

  And then they were out.

  As if they had simply passed through a cloud and burst out the other side, suddenly they sailed through clear skies. They flew over battleships and carriers, then onward. Behind them the battle still raged. The roar of guns and planes sounded in Avery’s ears, slow to recede, even though they were far away. His blood rushed like fire.

  Janx cheered raggedly, and Frederick laughed.

  They flew for breathless minutes, wind sighing and canvas creaking, Avery’s heart finally returning to a normal rhythm, before Hildra said, quietly, “Get ready.”

  She was standing, wrench in hand, tweaking the controls and tubes that gave air to the yacht, her environment suit covered in soot. Through her face-plate Avery could tell her cheeks and forehead were slicked with sweat. Her breath fogged the glass. She pointed something out to Janx, who sighed.

  “We’re going down,” Hildra said. “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Avery wanted to kick something. They had come this close. They were almost safe. Just activate the Device and be on their way ...

  He returned his attention to piloting, but he saw immediately that there was little point. The dirigible lost altitude rapidly, second by second, sinking further toward the bu
bbling, crackling water wreathed in fumes. No, he thought. Gods no. After all this ...

  There was only one thing for it. He reduced speed so that they would touch down as gently as they could. The yacht would not crash and break up upon hitting the water.

  It was losing altitude faster than he’d anticipated, though—faster every moment. The sea rushed up at him. It filled the world, vast and powerful and unstoppable. A bubble exploded to port, showering light and heat on them, almost blistering Avery’s skin. He could smell the sea, all ammonia and salt. He realized randomly that for most of his career on the water he had never actually smelled it. He’d always worn a suit when outside. It was only on land, protected by hot lard processors and other mechanisms, that he’d been able to safely inhale the sea’s vapors. But now, naked to the elements, a mutant, a godsdamned fish-man, he could smell the sea. To his surprise, it smelled good.

  The yacht smashed down.

  It threw him to the deck. Somewhere, muffled by wood, Ani screamed. Janx grunted. Hildra swore.

  Everything went black.

  Chapter 9

  When Avery came to, things that had not been secured rolled about the deck, sliding and thumping, tools and gear, chunks of wood that had torn free. Janx’s pistol. A fist knotted in the back of Avery’s head. Something poked his ribs.

  He smelled smoke. Glanced to his right. His left.

  The rod! It was eating a hole in the deck. As he’d passed out he must have dropped it. Quickly he scooped it up. He breathed in and out rapidly, and sparks flashed before his eyes. Blackness came over him. Not again, he thought. Not again. He forced himself to remain awake.

  Somewhere Janx and Hildra were cursing. He felt rough hands grab him and haul him up, and Janx pounded him on the back.

  “You okay, Doc?”

  “I—” Avery coughed. “I’m fine.”

  Toxic fumes, exuded by the sea, churned languidly across the deck like fog, making everything misty and surreal. It muffled the sounds of water lapping the hull and the frequent booms of thunder. Lightning appeared as patches of light, making the fog glow in pockets, then fade.