Snatched

by Vijaya Schartz

Zania had their attention. "Most of the time, they would follow a river, a valley, some natural landscape. Even a cave like these tubes. Because it’s easier than to dig through rock."

  But Dakini wouldn’t give up. "What makes you think that’s the case here?"

  "I could be wrong." Zania sincerely hoped she wasn’t. "But if there is one underground train, chances are it was a common mode of transportation here as well. There must be many similar tunnels. It just makes sense."

  Svend drummed his fingers on his knee, as if to boost his thinking. "The other advantage of traveling underground is that the satellites can’t detect us."

  The Centurion nodded. The Gorgon seemed unsure, glancing at Dakini.

  "Right." Zania made progress. "I also think that the tunnels under Dagora have long been abandoned, condemned, and maybe even forgotten. Many may have crumbled, and I doubt they will be guarded."

  "Why the hell not?" Dakini sounded eager to find a flaw in Zania’s plan.

  Pushing away her frustrations, Zania remained calm. "Their access into the streets were probably walled off centuries ago. They may have been condemned before the machines took over. New buildings may be sitting on top of these exits. We might have to blast our way through."

  The Centurion rubbed his stubby chin. "If we emerge in the center of town, we won’t have to walk far in the open. Less risk of being picked up by satellites or stopped before we can accomplish our mission."

  "Which is?" Zania realized she’d missed the first part of the meeting and needed to be clear about the objective.

  Gray glanced at the others, as if asking permission before answering. All nodded, except Dakini, who glared at him.

  Gray ignored her. "We must take control of the central computer, so our scientist allies inside the city can modify the machines to help us. Once the machines cooperate, we can evacuate the city, hopefully before the volcano blows."

  Except for Gray and Zania, no one in the group had any idea of what a computer was. Zania wondered at the chances of success of such an operation, yet, she would risk her life with this unlikely bunch, to make sure innocents didn’t suffer. Above all, she was a soldier, trained to fight for freedom and justice.

  *****

  Making bombs required patience, but military preparedness always served Zania well in the past.

  Gray assigned teams to collect the bat guano. The Centurions ground the elements into powder with hard stones. A few unlucky warriors collected urine from the latrines in gourds, while hunters went into the forest to fetch bamboo stems and small gourds the size of a fist.

  Scouts explored the deeper tunnels and the rain forest around the ruined villages, searching for traces of an underground railroad. They had been briefed on the characteristics of manmade tunnels, like those of the underground train, with decorative archways, stairs and writing on the walls. Zania hoped they would find something soon. Otherwise, entering Dagora would prove almost impossible.

  When time came to try the first bomb sample, in the forest, away from the cave, it petered away like a wet firecracker, to the obvious delight of Dakini and the Gorgon.

  But by the third try, Zania had the perfect mix. The explosion rocked the forest in a cloud of black smoke. The birds flew away in a batting of wings, and the monkeys stopped screaming, leaving the forest eerily silent.

  Zania looked up to see a tree toppling upon the group. Unwilling to speak in the open, even to give the alarm, she pushed the centurion and Gray out of the way.

  In a loud series of cracks and moans, the tall tree crashed through the vegetation, barely missing the leaders, who stared at each other with relief then erupted into laughter. The monkeys took it as a good sign and resumed their obnoxious screaming.

  The leaders’ faces and hair, as black as Dakini’s from the smoke, showed the white of their eyes. Even Svend laughed at Zania, who chuckled at the thought that she must look just as weird.

  After they all returned inside the cave, Zania could finally speak. "Now we can make something more powerful, that will blast a hole in any rock wall... or destroy a flock of drones." She wiped her face and her hand came up thick with black soot. "I hope the satellites will classify that explosion as a natural phenomenon."

  Gray nodded. "It sounded like thunder, a common sound around here."

  As Zania worked with Svend on assembling the bombs, in a small cave far from the main hall, she noticed how quickly he picked up the work and understood the process, although he’d never studied chemistry. His pile of completed devices grew faster than Zania’s.

  Zania smiled. "Good work! I’m impressed."

  "As long as we are only killing machines, I don’t mind making these."

  Zania chuckled. "As opposed to what? People?"

  "Women and children." Svend’s face closed.

  Just as Zania meant to ask about his comment, she spotted Dakini and the Gorgon, staring from the entrance.

  "Want to help?" Zania didn’t expect help but hoped to soothe the intolerable anger building between them.

  Dakini came forth but shook her head and snarled. "Labor is for slaves. I give orders. Others do the work."

  As Dakini still stared at the hands doing the work, Zania realized the Amazon Queen wanted to learn about the process.

  "It’s simple, you see? Three quarters saltpeter, fifteen percent charcoal, and ten percent sulfur. But you can’t shake the mixture. It’s highly explosive."

  Ignoring Zania, Dakini addressed Svend. "That’s why you store the finished gourds so far from the main cave?"

  Svend seemed ready to make peace. "With these earthquakes, a spark from a torch or static electricity could detonate the whole pile."

  Zania could tell Dakini was taking notes and watching the process closely. Did she plan to make her own bombs? "There will be enough for everyone."

  Hatred flashed in Dakini’s eyes, searing Zania. "I don’t trust you, upstart. You better watch your back."

  The Gorgon hissed in support then the two left quickly. The Amazon Queen wasn’t ready to forgive Zania for surviving her murderous attempt. Not to mention stealing Svend’s heart. Zania would have to watch out.

  Right now, however, with Svend at her side, Zania felt safe. She also held the key to the success of the mission. Dakini might hate Zania on many levels, but as a leader, she certainly understood the advantages of explosive weapons.

  It took a few days to make the bombs, during which the ground shook once. Soon they had a large enough stash so that every single warrior in the four tribes could carry several devices. Zania spent each night in Svend’s arms, each morning feeling happy but exhausted from his lovemaking and from lack of sleep.

  On the fifth day, the scouts brought good news. The last tremor had opened a deep crack in the forest floor near a ruined village, down in the valley. The fissure revealed a man-made tunnel, with square lines, made of broken concrete. It had the unmistakable wide tracks of rusted steel meant to carry a train. That was cause for celebration. The next day, the four tribes would move on toward the city.

  During the festivities, the hirsute Freedom tribesman Zania suspected of plotting against Gray, rose and walked toward the leaders. Remembering his first argument, Zania expected the worst. How would the leaders react?

  The noisy voices in the hall ebbed, and everyone waited, suspended in the moment. Even though few knew of this problem, the gravity in the man’s face, and the way he twisted the ties of his leather jerkin, indicated that his life could be at stake.

  Zania laid her hand on Svend’s thigh, wondering how Gray would react. Would the leader act like a guard? Or be magnanimous?

  Facing the leaders, the man squared his shoulders as if to gather the courage to speak. "I’m not going with you."

  A general gasp and a few murmurs glided over the assembled tribes.

  "I won’t risk my life for people who hate us!" the tribesman said with unexpected bravado. "I’ve done enough of that. Me and my friends, we want to go our own way, find a place to
settle down, away from this dangerous mountain before it explodes and buries us all. We can live elsewhere under the forest canopy. The Freedom tribe did it for years."

  About thirty men and ten women from the four tribes rose and lined up behind him. A few carried hunting blades. Their grim faces indicated their resolve. The bloody games had left an indelible imprint on them. They would hate the people of this planet for the remainder of their lives.

  Gray sighed heavily. "I thought this might happen." He exchanged looks with Svend, the centurion, and Dakini who all nodded.

  Zania wondered when the leaders had discussed this issue, but apparently they had, and they didn’t include Zania in their deliberations. She couldn’t believe Svend hadn’t told her about this. The more she learned about him, the more she realized he remained a mystery.

  Then Gray pressed his lips as he considered the group of rebellious tribesmen. "We are not slaves anymore, but free men and women."

  A murmur of agreement coursed through the assembly. So, the leaders had chosen to be wise. Good choice.

  "I can’t force you to do anything. You are with us or you aren’t. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. Take a few weapons but no explosives."

  The hirsute man bowed and relief flooded his face. "Thank you for your generosity."

  The group behind him relaxed. Some slapped other's shoulders. They had been ready for battle and had found peace instead.

  Gray scanned the assembly with a neutral expression on his face. "Anyone else wants to follow the new tribe?"

  No one else dared stand up.

  The rebellious group shuffled along the weapon pile and picked up axes, swords, knives, Labrys, then they lined up and held their weapons high in salute, warrior style, a sign of respect and gratitude.

  "Good luck out there!" The hirsute tribesman filed out of the main cave, followed closely by his new tribe.

  "Thanks, we’ll need it," Gray called after them in the deep quiet that filled the cave. After they left, he added, "We are doing the honorable thing. The citizens of Dagora are innocent women and children for the most part. And we are their only hope of survival. If it were your family in danger, you would want strangers to step up and save them."

  Svend nodded gravely.

  Hunters, Amazons, Vikings and Centurions cheered then returned to the food and drink.

  Zania wondered whether Gray had family in Dagora. After all, he was a native.

  The festivities lasted the rest of the day and long after dark.

  *****

  That night, in the privacy of their small, private space, Svend rolled over Zania and his kiss almost melted her resolve. His mouth tasted of Juju wine, and his embrace held the promise of heady pleasures. But for her own sake, Zania had to learn to say no.

  Gently, she pulled away the strong fingers already loosening the front laces of her bustier. "I will need my strength tomorrow."

  He looked surprised then grinned devilishly. "Did I wear you out?"

  Although tempted to show him otherwise, Zania had to remain strong. "Why don’t we talk for a change?"

  Svend frowned and sat up on the fur. "Talk?"

  "Yes, talk. How do you feel about going into the city?"

  Svend chuckled, as if embarrassed, and stared at his hands. "I don’t mind facing warriors, but I don’t like the idea of fighting machines."

  "I can’t blame you there." Zania didn’t like the idea either. "I understand these robots are fast, accurate, and they can strike from a distance."

  His clear gray eyes glanced up at her. "And they cannot feel pain, or fear."

  Zania reached and laid her hand on his knee. "Tell me more about yourself. We act like a couple, yet I know so little about your life before we met. You never told me how you ended up here."

  Svend laid down and rolled off away from her. "I don’t want to talk about it." The finality in his voice carried surprising anger.

  "Why not?" The rejection stung Zania but she wanted to understand him. She sat up and crossed her legs, leaning back against the cave wall. "I told you about my world. About my soldiers who died in battle, about the Collectors who rescued me but sold me into slavery..." She caressed his shoulder.

  He took her fingers and drew them into his mouth.

  Lost in the sensation, Zania had to steel her resolve and pull away her hand gently. "You mentioned your village being attacked by explosive devices."

  "The Collectors!" Svend spat the name like a mouthful of venom. He sat up suddenly, staring away from her. "They may have saved your life, but they also kill to get what they want."

  "You mean the Collectors razed your village?" Zania never thought of the advanced race as bloodthirsty. Greedy, yes, but senseless killers?

  "They came from the sky with the fury of Ragnarok, raining balls of fire that exploded the main hall, where women and children took refuge." The frustration of reliving the nightmare creased his wide forehead.

  Zania wished she hadn’t asked. "That’s terrible."

  "I was only sixteen but already a man. I had a young wife and a baby boy... Svenson." A great sadness filled his eyes. "I didn’t know how to fight such invaders. They hid inside their ship."

  "I’m so sorry..." Zania’s heart ached for him.

  Tears welled and glistened in his light gray eyes. "They captured the best warriors and hunters first and took us aboard their vessel. Then, as we watched from a large window, their weapons set the hall ablaze. My heart bled as I imagined my wife and child screaming in the inferno. It incinerated everything and everyone." Heavy tears flowed freely down his face. "I couldn’t save them."

  Such senseless carnage revolted Zania. She wiped one of his tears then smoothed his hair. "But why would they kill women and children?"

  "I asked that same question, much later, when I could control the rage in my heart. The Collectors said they couldn’t leave witnesses. Since they’d taken the best warriors and hunters, it was only humane to kill the rest of the population. Otherwise, they would starve, or be slaughtered by their enemies."

  Zania remembered what the Collector told her the day she’d awakened. According to her planet’s history, all the warriors on both sides had died in that desert battle. No one won, everyone lost. Had the Collectors exterminated all the soldiers on that battlefield, sand demons and North American Fighters alike? "Wherever they tread, they leave no witnesses..."

  "That’s the way they operate."

  "Then they must have killed my soldiers as well." The revelation burned a hole in Zania’s gut at the thought of her dead comrades. "It’s not enough that they take us from our homes, they need to kill every innocent soul around? I wish I could make them pay."

  Svend snorted derisively. "Believe me, I’ve thought about it many times."

  So far, Zania had considered herself lucky, because, although she was a slave, the Collectors had saved her life. And besides, she always had hopes of escaping. But she now realized the true extent of the Collectors’ greed. "They need to be stopped."

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning at dawn, Zania struggled to contain her excitement. Svend smiled at her as he adjusted a length of rough rope on his shoulder. He looked like a mountain climber as he prepared to lead the Viking tribe out of the cave.

  "Make sure the explosives don’t get wet," Zania reminded him.

  Gray addressed the tribes ready to depart. "And not a word in the open, until we are inside the tunnel. Good luck out there."

  The warriors responded with a cheer.

  Finally some action. All these preparations had rendered Zania restless. She filed in with the Vikings following Svend. Instead of passing through the waterfall, he led the column to the side of it, and they squeezed through the dry space against the rock. The many weapons they carried clinked like chains as they walked and leapt from stone to stone across the pond.

  Zania enjoyed the weight of the katana sword at her side. The knives and daggers at her belt and in her boots made her feel safe.
Even the prodding rod in her satchel might come handy. Her extra burden, like everyone else’s, included torches to light the tunnels, explosives, and enough fruit and smoked meat to last a few days.

  If all went well, the journey to Dagora would only take a day, but they had to allow for unexpected delays or obstacles. Determining the best point of exit from the tunnel into the city could take time. And they might have to blast their way to the surface.

  After crossing the pond, Zania caught up with Svend, at the head of the line with the scouts and the torch bearer. Svend seemed in his element in the jungle. The fur vest made him look like a wild furry cat, walking with purpose, reacting to every change in the terrain, the flapping of wings, the slithering of a snake on a branch, an unusual bird call.

  The column moved along an unfamiliar trail across the rain forest, down steep terrain along the river. As the ground leveled out, they came upon a wide, wooded valley, sprinkled with moss-covered ruins. Soon, they reached the fissure in the ground, like a fresh wound on the forest floor. Svend motioned for the column to stop.

  Zania followed him to the crumbling edge of the chasm. A long vine, hanging from a tree, dipped into the crevice, probably the one the scouts had installed the day before. Holding on to it, Zania bent over the opening to peer into the black depths but couldn’t see anything.

  Gesturing to the torch bearer, Svend lit a torch and threw it into the crevice. The torch flickered as it fell slowly toward the bottom, and Zania counted the seconds. Quite deep. Fortunately, the torch remained lit where it landed, indicating the tunnel wasn’t flooded. The small flame showed little of the underground tunnel but would serve as a beacon.

  Svend motioned for Zania to go down first.

  Nodding, Zania grabbed the vine with both hands and eased herself off the edge into the dark abyss. As she glanced up, she saw Zvend unrolling his rope. Then she started down toward the faint light of the torch.

  The hole seemed to deepen as she progressed. Would she ever reach bottom? The smell of rotten earth mixed with a pungent odor of creosote. Sounds of dripping water echoed down below.