The Resurrection Key

by Andy McDermott

  ‘More or less,’ said Eddie, stretching a sore leg.

  ‘I’m so glad to hear that,’ Hui said. The audio quality was low, glitchy; even using Chinese military channels, bandwidth had become limited now the armed forces were being mobilised. ‘I am still at the hill; I have only received intermittent updates from the soldiers here. What has happened?’

  ‘A lot of property destruction,’ Nina told her. ‘Potentially major civilian casualties. But the fortress has been damaged – it hasn’t crashed yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Eddie blew up the crystal it uses to focus earth energy.’

  ‘Major Wu’s chasing it in her helicopter,’ Cheng added.

  ‘I heard. I hope her anger does not get more people killed.’

  ‘We need to get out of here before Wu and her superiors start looking for scapegoats,’ said Nina. ‘I doubt she’s gonna let her father take the blame, so I have a horrible feeling we’ll be at the top of her list.’

  ‘I suspect we all will. The military always looks to the outside for blame before turning its eyes on itself.’ Hui considered her next action. ‘I will contact the base and have a helicopter pick me up – then I will collect you as well. Where are you?’

  ‘Just look for the collapsed skyscrapers,’ said Eddie. ‘We’re in the park next to them.’

  ‘I will be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Nina.

  The call ended. She looked back across the city, seeing the helicopter pass out of sight as it followed the fortress into Xinengyuan’s heart.

  The Z-20 descended towards the city’s streets. ‘The UFO’s landing!’ said the pilot.

  Wu saw the metal monster lower itself to the ground in a park, its chin on a grassy mound to bring its prow upwards. She realised immediately why. ‘They’re giving their guns a wider firing arc,’ she said. ‘Stay behind it so it can’t target us.’

  The pilot changed course. ‘Do you want me to land?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘We need to make sure it can’t take off again.’ A glance back; soldiers were ready on both miniguns. ‘Prepare to fire!’

  The fortress’s touchdown was not gentle, sending the throne room’s occupants staggering. Gadreel recovered and hurried to the mausoleum. ‘Sidona! How many more have you woken?’

  ‘About twenty-five so far,’ his wife replied. ‘The first are beginning to recover.’

  The Nephilim leader performed rapid mental arithmetic. Inside the clamshell behind the three thrones was a smaller craft, the vimana-kal. Intended as a royal transport so that he could travel without moving the entire fortress, it had only limited space within. It could take perhaps twenty, twenty-two at the tightest squeeze – but it still needed room for the tracker and the annoying human, Zan.

  ‘Then continue,’ he told her. ‘Those we cannot fit into the vimana-kal will defend the fortress until we can leave.’

  ‘My lord!’ shouted a man in the throne room. ‘One of their machines is coming!’

  ‘Destroy it!’

  ‘It is behind us! We cannot bring the lightning spears to bear.’

  Gadreel cursed. ‘They are going to attack!’ He picked out eight of the warriors in the throne room. ‘You men, go outside. Find cover and shoot down the machine if you can. If the beasts reach the ground, kill them.’ They ran from the chamber.

  He went to the thrones. His seat at the centre had several stones and crystals inset into its arms. He touched his hand to one. To his relief, there was still enough earth energy flowing through the fortress to open the enclosure behind him. The clamshell slowly split apart.

  Gold gleamed within. The vimana-kal was a flattened ovoid, its orichalcum skin polished to a near-mirror shine even after uncounted years. Three round crystal windows were spaced across its upper surface, an entrance hatch at the rear. It had been built to accommodate six travellers in comfort; how it would fare with almost four times that number remained to be seen.

  But he would have to find out. He headed for the smaller craft’s entrance – then paused as he passed his son’s body. The wounded vimana’s unsteady flight had slipped the robes from his face. The sight of the youth filled him once more with grief – and rage. ‘I shall make them pay,’ he promised, gently drawing the covering back over Turel’s head before entering the vimana-kal.

  The pilot brought his helicopter into a hover a hundred metres above the ground, facing the fortress’s right rear quarter. ‘Ready.’

  Major Wu did not waste a moment. ‘Open fire!’

  Both gunners swung their weapons at the grounded dragon and pulled the triggers. The miniguns spat out a vicious barrage of gunfire. Wu felt a surge of angry triumph as the first rounds hit home; the fortress’s shield was indeed down, bullets ripping into its hull. ‘Aim for the window!’ she ordered. ‘If you see anyone, kill them!’

  The gunners obeyed. Metal splintered, the storm of bullets hosing through the broken window—

  ‘There!’ cried the co-pilot, pointing. ‘Someone’s coming out!’

  Wu saw several giant armoured figures rush from the open hatch. Most charged across the hull, but a couple dropped into cover behind the strakes and brought up their spear weapons. ‘Incoming fire! Take evasive action!’

  The pilot and gunners responded simultaneously, the former pitching the helicopter sideways. The latter briefly ceased firing as they found the threats – then opened up again. More rounds ripped through metal, and the men crouching behind it. Wu felt another surge of cruel satisfaction as bodies were flung backwards amidst flying shrapnel. Their fancy armour may have made the Nephilim invulnerable in ancient times, but it was useless against modern weaponry.

  One gunner sent his stream of bullets after the other warriors, catching a giant in the back, but the rest leapt over the side to take cover beneath the fortress. The danger they posed had just risen hugely, Wu knew; the dragon was so large they could reappear from anywhere and shoot before the miniguns could target them. ‘Pull back and land,’ she barked. ‘Ground troops, get ready!’

  The Z-20 drew away from the fortress. As Wu had predicted, a warrior emerged from under its tail section and fired his weapon. The sizzling energy burst shot past, missing by a metre. Wu held on as the aircraft pulled up sharply to land behind a building, then threw open the main hatch. ‘Move out!’ she shouted, grabbing a rifle. ‘Flanking positions, keep in cover – and if any of those monsters shows its head, blow it off!’

  The hammer blows on the hull warned Gadreel he was running out of time. The humans were attacking from their flying machine; soon they would begin a ground assault.

  He readied the vimana-kal as much as he could, but, like its parent craft, it needed the touch of a priestess and the resurrection key to bring the crystal at its heart fully back to life. He ran back into the throne room. Chaos greeted him. The clamorous assault had stopped, but the room had been devastated by the humans’ weapons. One warrior had lost his legs, the wounded man moaning and twitching near the altars where he had crawled on a trail of blood. Gadreel could not spare him more than a pitying glance as he rushed to the mausoleum stairs, Zan following hesitantly.

  Below, he saw the first of the newly woken Nephilim, bleary and confused from their revival. ‘Sidona, I need you in the vimana-kal. How many more have you awoken?’

  ‘Another ten,’ his wife replied. ‘I can still wake more—’

  ‘It will have to do. Come, quickly! You, Zan – bring the tracker.’

  Zan regarded the heavy machine with dismayed resignation. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Sidona hurried to her husband, bearing the key. He led her towards the smaller craft. She gasped at the sight of the wounded man. ‘Their weapons – they are too powerful! We cannot stand against them!’

  ‘We can,’ Gadreel growled. ‘They are like everything human – crude and savage. But we have a power they do not, and w
e will use it to turn their own weapon against them!’

  They entered the vimana-kal. Sidona quickly put the key in place and pressed her hand to it, her eyes going blank for a moment as she shaped the planet’s invisible forces. More crystals around the room glowed brightly. The fortress was crippled, but its child was in perfect condition.

  She withdrew. ‘How will we know where to go?’

  ‘There is a place where many lines of force meet,’ Gadreel told her, ‘a place of great power – it must be Tartarus. The tracker will guide us.’

  ‘If you can trust the human.’

  Beyond the windows, he saw Zan struggling to carry the machine across the throne room. ‘If he wishes to stay alive, he will obey. He has betrayed his own people – there is nowhere else for him to go. Now, ready us to leave.’

  He ran back out into the throne room to address his people from the central altar. ‘The world has changed,’ he said, raising his voice so those in the chamber below could hear. ‘Our persecutors are gone – but they have been usurped by the beasts who bore us, the humans. They became powerful while we slept, but we can still defeat them!’

  His words had the desired effect, rallying the warriors. ‘We will reclaim our place and free our people,’ he went on. ‘But it will require sacrifice. The fortress is crippled. Our only hope is to use the vimana-kal to reach the hidden prison – but it is too small to take us all. Some must remain here. I am sorry.’ He briefly bowed his head, then continued: ‘Defend the fortress to the last. Your lives will not be wasted. We will free our daughters and sons, our sisters and brothers, all those who were taken from us by the People of the Tree. They will remember you for a thousand generations!’

  Some of the newly woken entered during his speech, listening with excitement – or alarm, wondering if they would be the ones asked to give their lives. He made eye contact with each of them, reassuring them that he had not taken this decision lightly. ‘We have little time left. We must make good use of it. Lady Sidona and I will give each of you your tasks. Then,’ his voice rose to a crescendo, ‘we will take back the world that is rightfully ours!’

  The throne room erupted with cheers. Gadreel granted himself a moment to bask in the long-missed adulation of his people, then gestured for silence, ready to begin the difficult task of choosing who would escape – and who would be left to fight to the death.

  Major Wu’s team split into two groups, flanking the fortress. Those heading left had the more dangerous approach, as they would be within the firing arc of one of the big guns at its front.

  Wu led the other group, going right. It was not out of cowardice, she told herself; she wanted to be the one to kill Gadreel for murdering her father. That meant fighting her way to the entrance, and if she had to shoot every giant in her path, so be it . . .

  They ran across the park. Everything had gone unnervingly quiet, but that would not last—

  Movement in the shadows beneath the fortress. ‘Cover!’ she barked, diving flat at the foot of a tree. Her men followed suit, using planters and benches for protection as they brought up their rifles. A towering figure rose under the dragon’s tail, golden spear in his hands.

  Wu shot first, sending three rapid rounds at her target. As a special forces operative, marksmanship was not only an expected skill, but demanded. Her shots were true, striking the Nephilim’s chest – but his armour flared like the fortress’s hull, shielded. Her Type 95 had neither the stopping power nor the sheer rate of fire of a minigun. By the time she realised he was unharmed, he had recovered—

  Rippling energy crackled from his spear – and the man to Wu’s left exploded in a shower of blood and shredded flesh. A hot wetness splattered her cheek.

  Fighting shock, she flicked the rifle’s fire selector to full auto and pulled the trigger again. This time, half the magazine hit her target. A scarlet burst from the giant’s neck told her she had found a gap in his armour. He fell backwards.

  Other dark shapes moved beneath the fortress. ‘Grenades!’ she shouted. ‘Clear those scum out!’

  Two of her remaining men had grenade launchers beneath their rifle barrels. Wu and the others ducked as a pair of forty-millimetre fragmentation charges were unleashed. Explosions and razor-sharp shrapnel tore through the space under the fortress. Shrill screams replaced the echoes of the detonations.

  Wu jumped up and sprinted towards the downed aircraft. ‘Move in! Kill them all!’

  She ducked under the hull. The warrior she had shot lay on his back, clutching his throat as he gargled blood. She fired a single shot into his eye, then moved on. Another giant had been torn practically in half by a grenade, a second bloodied Nephilim on hands and knees several metres away. Wu ran up to him and jammed her rifle’s muzzle against the exposed nape of his neck, then fired. The huge figure flopped to the ground.

  Chattering gunfire to her left. The other group was engaging the warriors—

  An ear-splitting crackle from the main gun – and a huge blast tore a crater out of the park. Wu whipped her head around to see pieces of her soldiers tumbling back to earth.

  But her way to the hatch was now clear – and she heard the thud of rotor blades. The support she had called in from Cangliang was finally here.

  Sensing victory, she advanced into the open to find the way into the ship. The Nephilim were now trapped like rats—

  The fortress shuddered.

  Wu reacted in alarm, but it was not trying to take off. Something had moved inside it, shifting its weight . . .

  She looked up – and saw the dragon’s head split open.

  A section of hull behind the windows swung upwards. Gold shone within. She realised where it was in relation to the rest of the chamber – the enclosure behind the thrones. The Nephilim had hidden something inside it—

  Wu stared in surprise as a golden object, a flattened egg as long as a truck’s trailer, silently levitated from its nest. The sight of windows made her realise what it was – another aircraft, some sort of shuttle or escape pod. They were trying to get away!

  She whipped up her rifle and emptied her magazine at it. The rounds twanged off, the golden skin shimmering with iridescent energy. It too had a shield. The UFO kept climbing, turning southwards – then, without a sound, whisked away into the distance.

  ‘No!’ Wu shouted, rapidly reloading and sending another futile burst after it. She somehow knew Gadreel was aboard. And now he was escaping, denying her revenge – and taking the secrets of the Nephilim with him.

  Not caring if any Nephilim still posed a threat beneath the fortress, she ran back the way she had come. ‘Chopper pilot, this is Major Wu!’ she shouted into her headset. ‘Pick me up, now! They’re escaping – we have to go after them!’

  ‘Look!’ shouted Macy, pointing. The others turned to see a golden pod-like craft flash between the skyscrapers.

  ‘What the hell’s that?’ said Eddie.

  ‘It’s another vimana,’ Nina realised. ‘A smaller one – it must have been stored inside the fortress!’

  ‘What is this, Pimp My UFO?’ He tracked the object as it headed south. ‘It’s not hanging about, whatever it is.’

  ‘It’s got to be Gadreel and Sidona. The fortress is wrecked, so they’re bugging out.’

  ‘Going where?’ asked Cheng.

  ‘To find their people – to find Tartarus.’ The golden craft shrank into the distance. ‘We need to follow it! They’ve got the resurrection key – so if they find the prison, they can wake up their people. All of them.’

  Cheng looked pensive. ‘But we don’t know where they’re going.’

  ‘Gadreel knew where the prison was,’ she told him. ‘Or at least he had a good idea. When he looked at the map on the tracker, he was very interested in part of it.’

  ‘Which part?’ said Eddie.

  ‘I’m not sure. Somewhere in the southern hemisphere
. We know the Veteres have been there, because they went through Indonesia and Australia all the way to Antarctica. So somewhere along the way, they found a place to site their prison – at a major confluence point of earth energy. We need to find it.’

  ‘The tracker!’ Cheng said excitedly. ‘It has a wireless connection to the computers at the research centre. Everything it does is recorded – so there’ll be a copy of whatever Gadreel saw!’

  ‘Then we’ve got to get back there,’ said Nina. ‘Fast.’ She looked around as Hui’s helicopter came in to land, ready to ferry them to the base.

  The vimana-kal’s interior was overcrowded beyond the point of mere discomfort, but all those aboard knew they would have to endure it. They had greater concerns.

  Sidona had made Zan connect the tracker to the craft’s crystal heart. Even though it was much smaller than its counterpart in the crippled fortress, she soon discovered the machine gave her every bit as much power and control over the earth’s energies. Her first priority had been to locate Tartarus, guiding their craft towards it.

  Next came vengeance.

  ‘The beasts cannot be allowed to claim the vimana,’ Gadreel growled. ‘We must destroy it to keep it from them.’

  ‘My lord,’ Sidona said quietly, ‘the warriors who remained with it . . .’

  He closed his eyes. ‘I know.’ A breath, then he opened them again, his expression stone. ‘They will not be forgotten.’ The other Nephilim crushed together in the cabin expressed silent appreciation for their sacrifice. ‘Now. Begin.’

  Sidona bowed her head, then turned to Zan. ‘The vimana. Show it to me.’

  ‘Yes, my lady,’ the translator replied nervously. He zoomed the laptop’s map in on Xinengyuan. ‘It is here.’

  ‘Target it,’ ordered Gadreel. Zan hesitantly did so, the crosshairs locking on the park. ‘What you did to the tower,’ the Nephilim leader continued to his wife, ‘do so again. Except . . . how great a devastation can you bring?’