Archer of Venus (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1)

by James Palmer

  “Run, Jason!” said Vashta before getting a stun stick between her shoulder blades. She winced as she fell to her knees.

  “Vashta!” Archer yelled, but it was no use. She was right. He had to run, to get out of there. He couldn’t save her if he too was in chains. Archer turned and ran out the door, two more Enforcers in pursuit, making it onto the elevator before they could reach him.

  Once safely inside, Archer commanded the elevator to take him to the basement. He thought the Enforcers would have some way of stopping his descent or bring the elevator capsule back to Lady Vashta’s floor, but he made it to the basement unimpeded. Beneath the building it was cool and dimly lit, a series of service tunnels snaking off in every possible direction. He stepped off the elevator and reached into a fold in his robes, found the talking disk. “Find me a way out of here,” he said.

  “Please be more specific,” said the disk, and Archer weighed his options. Where could he go that would be safe from the Enforcers? The entire city was no doubt looking for him even now. Then he remembered something Lady Vashta had said when he’d first arrived in the white tower. “Take me to Venn Sann.”

  “Venn Sann’s whereabouts are currently unknown,” proclaimed the disk, and Archer sighed in frustration. He yanked the disk from his robes and glared at it, gripping it tightly. It was cold and heavy in his hand. It was just a machine, he reminded himself. He must be specific and literal.

  “Show me a way out of the city from the service tunnels beneath this tower,” he said. I need to get into the jungle.”

  “Working,” said the disk, and Archer felt it grow warm in his hand. The elevator pod closed and made its way back up the way it had come. Archer ran and ducked around a corner, his eyes searching out hiding places in case more Enforcers came down on the next elevator.

  “Go to the end of this corridor, then turn right,” said the disk, and Archer ran.

  He felt like a rodent trapped in a maze, with only the talking disk to guide him. In the levels above an alarm sounded, a keening vibration that Archer felt rather than heard, and he quickened his pace as he carried out the disk’s instructions. From somewhere behind him, Archer heard many marching feet approach, and he hid beneath a cluster of pipes until the heavily armed and armored guards passed him by. As he was crawling out he heard a deep voice yell, “Halt!”

  Archer almost froze where he was, crouching, his hands on the cool floor as he dislodged himself from the pipes. But he hurried into a fighting crouch, pulling the pilfered stun stick from his robes and holding it behind him. A young man in black and gold armor stared at him, a weapon that looked painfully like a gun held shakily in Archer’s direction. He was little more than a kid, and Archer thought this might be the first time he’d ever pointed his weapon at another living thing.

  Archer held up his free right hand. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to get out of here. I don’t belong here.”

  “You belong in the pit, slave!” shouted the guard, loud enough for his comrades in arms to hear and come running back to the spot where Archer stood.

  “Hold on there,” said Archer. “You don’t know anything about me. I’m a man, a human being just like you.”

  “Put both hands where I can see them.”

  “Oh, all right,” Archer said, twisting toward the kid and flicking his left wrist into the air, sending the stun stick toward the guard like a missile.

  It struck his gun hand, knocking the weapon free. As the young guardsman made a grab for it, Archer was on top of him, throwing all of his weight on top of the guard’s back and jamming an elbow in between his shoulder blades. The armor was strong but the guard felt it, grunting as he went to his knees. Archer kicked his gun under the pipes, then slammed his knee into the side of the boy’s head. A kick to the face sent the guard sprawling onto his back. He didn’t get up.

  Archer went to crawl under the pipes and retrieve the guard’s weapon, but he sound of approaching feet made him pause. “Get me out of here,” he told the disk.

  “Recalculating,” it said. “Return back up the corridor and take the next left.”

  Archer did as he was told, all the while hearing the guards coming fast from somewhere behind him. He twisted left, then right, then left again, following the disk’s instructions, even though he had no idea where he was.

  “Ahead and to the right there is a ventilation shaft,” said the disk. “It will lead you into the jungle.”

  Archer reached the promised shaft. A large metal pipe just large enough for him to fit through jutted into the corridor. Steel ribs cut horizontally across the opening at both ends, but through them Archer could see jungle green and unfiltered Venusian sunlight. Archer studied the ribs, which were attached to the opening by a ring-shaped assembly fitted over the end of the tube. He chewed his bottom lip in thought. He was certain he could remove the assembly, but he was just as certain that the guards would hear him doing so, and he didn’t know how long it would take to work them loose at either end.

  Archer stood quietly for almost a full minute, listening for the sounds of booted feet. There was a mumble of voices, but they were distant. Satisfied it would take them at least a few minutes to reach the source of the noise he was about to make, Archer got to work prying the ribbed cover from the duct. It was difficult going at first, but eventually he was able to remove it with only a slight squeal of protest from the bolts that held the cover. He gently set it on the floor and climbed feet first into the duct. Now came the loud part, he thought as he kicked the outer cover with his booted feet. There was a loud clang that seemed to reverberate through the entire building, and Archer had to tell himself it was merely the echo inside the small enclosed space. He kicked it again, harder this time, felt one of the bolts wrench free. Humid jungle air assailed him as he heard the muffled sound of the guards homing in on his location.

  “He’s in the vent,” he heard one of them say as he kicked out one final time. The ribbed cover fell off. He was free. He slid his body toward the opening.

  “Stop!”

  Archer craned his neck. Three guards peered at him, upside down from his view, pointing their strange guns at him. Archer placed his heels over the lip of the opening and pulled, hauling his body out through the duct. His feet hit the ribbed vent cover, then touched down on moist ground. He took one last look behind him. The guards peered at him through the pipe, anger and fear obvious on their faces. Archer smiled and waved at them before vanishing into the jungle.

  When he was a few yards away he paused, taking stock of himself. He had lost the stun stick in his fight with the guard, and never had a chance to retrieve the man’s weapon. He took the talking disk out of his pocket and spoke to it, but it did not reply. It felt cold in his hand. Perhaps it only worked inside the city. He tossed it to the ground.

  The jungle heat was stifling, settling over him like a wool blanket. He mopped sweat from his face and looked back toward the city of Cadmium, an amber jewel shimmering in the heat. It was tall, imposing, formidable, its dome glistening around it like a dirty soap bubble. Archer realized then there would be no pursuit. Their dome, and the fact that they sent machines into the jungle to capture slaves for them pointed to one obvious conclusion: the people of Cadmium feared the Venusian jungle.

  He turned and ran, wary of staying in one place for too long. Besides, he had to find Venn Sann, this Thinker. He was the only one who could help him now. For as he still longed to return to Earth of his own time, his only thoughts were of Lady Vashta. She was in terrible danger, and he had to save her.

  Archer crashed through the thick jungle for what seemed hours, finally emerging in a clearing. The sound of rapidly running water told him there was a stream nearby, and reminded him of how thirsty he was. Many pairs of eyes stared back at him. There was a village here. A ramshackle assemblage of huts and lean-tos were clustered near the center of the clearing, while men, women and children toiled about beneath of the glare of the seemingly eternal Venusian sun. Th
ey stared at him for a long moment before going back to their various chores. Archer entered the clearing and spoke.

  “Can anyone help me? I need to find Venn Sann.”

  Nothing. The people ignored him.

  “Venn Sann. The Thinker? Does anyone know who I’m talking about?”

  “We know, stranger,” said a young man. Barely a teenager, he had long hair the color of straw and deep green eyes. A young girl stood next to him with similar facial features and those same green eyes.

  “You know where I can find the one they call Thinker?” Archer asked, coming over to them.

  The boy looked warily at the others before answering. “Yes. He lives in a cave in the mountains. Don’t worry about them,” he said, gesturing to the other people of the village. “They are afraid of him. I am Voro, and this is my sister Joro.”

  “My name’s Archer. Can you take me to him, Voro?”

  “I can’t,” said Voro sadly. “It is forbidden for my people to go near Thinker’s cave. They say thunders and lightnings come from it at night.”

  “But you’re not afraid?” Archer said.

  “No,” said the Joro. “When we were younger, Thinker came to our people when my brother and I were very ill. He healed us.”

  “Are you in need of healing, stranger?” asked the boy.

  “Not exactly,” said Archer. “But I need to speak with Thinker. It is very important.”

  “It is a full cycle’s ride to the mountains,” said Voro. “You’ll never make it on foot. You’ll need a mount.”

  “Where can I get one?”

  “I am sorry, stranger. It is forbidden.”

  Archer threw up his hands. “Of course it is.”

  A large shadow fell across the clearing, and everyone looked up in surprise. A woman screamed, and Archer followed Joro’s fearful gaze into the sky, where a green reptilian creature swooped toward them on huge membranous wings.

  Chapter Nine

  Attack of the Sky Beast

  Everyone started running for the relative safety of the jungle as the creature made its rapid descent. Voro and Joro brought up spears from somewhere, and Archer simply stared, wishing he had pilfered one of Cadmium’s more advanced weapons for himself.

  “Sky beast!” Voro proclaimed, holding his spear at the ready. Joro cowered next to him, her eyes locking onto the titanic creature. Archer felt an almost paralyzing fear that told him to seek the safety of the jungle immediately, but he could not leave these twins. They were the only ones who seemed willing to help him find the cave of Venn Sann.

  The three of them crouched low as the titan hurled itself at the ground, snatching up a running villager in its jaws before returning to the sky. Archer knew it wasn’t finished; it would be back.

  “Come on,” he told the twins. “Let’s head for the jungle.”

  The three of them ran, Archer leading the way. He knew they could make it. The creature was so huge, it could never reach them in the tangle of trees and other growth. He bounded toward the jungle’s edge, his legs making long strides. Then there was a sharp pain and the crunch of bone, and Archer was hauled off his feet and into the air. On the ground lay a spear, and he snatched it up before he was yanked away from it.

  The pain was horrendous, the sudden rush of wind and sky frightening. The sky beast had Archer’s right foot. Not a perfect grip, but one the monster would correct shortly if he didn’t do something. The pain of his foot grinding between the titan’s teeth caused black blossoms to bloom before his eyes. Going numb, he twisted around, hefting the spear.

  The sky beast’s head was scant inches from him, its reptilian eyes glistening. He jabbed the spear into the creature’s right eye, causing its mouth to open and drop him, the ground rushing up to meet him.

  Pain filled the universe. He saw blood and sky. A blur of faces swam in and out of his perception. He thought he saw Voro and Joro. They were saying something to him, but the words sounded very far away and Archer couldn’t make them out. It hurt when he moved, when he breathed. He tasted blood, and felt something inside of him grinding together, broken. He closed his eyes and knew no more.

  When awareness returned, he was strapped to the scaly hide of some large beast moving through the thick jungle. He saw a dirty swatch of blond hair, and knew that one of the twins was leading the animal somewhere. But where? His right foot was in agony, and he had the pressing feeling that there was something he had to do, something important. He couldn’t recall what it was and drifted away again.

  Pain lanced through him, and he opened his eyes. He was being moved, lifted from the green beast and deposited onto the ground, flat on his back and staring up at the sky. A gray bulge of rock jutted into the sky to his right, and he turned his head to stare at it.

  “Thinker’s cave is up there,” said Voro, pointing. “You showed much bravery when the sky beast attacked. The elders gave us permission to bring you here. But this is as far as we dare to go. I cannot carry you up the mountain.”

  Archer tried to speak, but his mouth was dry, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Joro grabbed a water skin from somewhere and poured some water over his face and into his mouth. He coughed. “Thank you,” he said, gasping.

  Joro placed the water skin next to him and smiled. “We must return to our people now. Thank you for your kindness and bravery.”

  Archer simply nodded as the twins urged their beast of burden to turn around and begin the trek back into the jungle. He stared up at the mountain, its gray, formidable outline wreathed in shadow, the sun behind it from his vantage point. He sat up painfully.

  His right foot was hanging limply at an impossible angle, and had swollen inside his boot. He felt a couple of ribs rubbing painfully against each other and winced. His robes were a shredded mess, and he removed all but his loincloth. Placing the water skin’s strap over his shoulder, he began pulling himself toward the cliff face, dragging his ruined foot behind him. He took another sip of water and gazed up the huge rock. He had done a bit of climbing in the Hollywood hills, and to his untrained eye this looked as if it would be a difficult climb even for someone who wasn’t injured.

  “Hello?” he called, his voice echoing off the mountain. “Venn Sann! Thinker! I came to see you. Lady Vashta needs your help.”

  He waited. He could just make out an opening midway up the rock face, but there was no movement, no light coming from it that would indicate it was inhabited. There were certainly no thunders and lightnings as the twins had described. Grumbling, Archer pulled and pushed himself onto his good left foot and began to look for handholds in the rock.

  He began pulling himself up, making sure he had good footing with his left leg before continuing onward. He was getting closer to the cave, but his ribs troubled him, and the blanket-like humidity made the already arduous climb even more difficult. But all of this only served to goad him on further. Lady Vashta needed him. As he stared toward the cave looking for handholds, all he could see was her virtuous face. She had saved his life. How could he not return the favor?

  His left hand slipped, and his body slew to the right, his ruined foot banging against a jutting rock. Nausea filled his stomach, and black dots danced before his eyes. His mind had enough time to register that he was falling, then nothingness enveloped his consciousness.

  Chapter Ten

  The Cave of the Thinker

  Archer awoke to a world of flame.

  His mind reeled as he raised his head and hauled himself up on one elbow, escaping the fire.

  Archer looked around. He was in a cave. A small fire burned near the cave’s mouth, throwing weird shadows onto the walls. Beyond the fire a man sat cross-legged. Not just any man; an Overman. Short but broad and powerfully built, with a bald head and dark, knowing eyes peaking out from beneath pronounced brow ridges. Sitting across his lap was a long wooden staff capped by a metal cylinder, similar to the one he’d seen inside the city. Similar to the one that sent him to this place.

  He sat up,
noticing at once that his ribs didn’t ache. His right foot was also where it should be, looking good as new. He rotated his ankle and flexed his toes. There was no pain at all.

  “My staff healed your injuries,” the Overman intoned in a deep, commanding voice.

  “Thank you,” said Archer, standing up and flexing his arms and legs. He knew he should feel battle sore, fatigued, but he felt the best he had in years. “I called to you, you know.”

  Thinker looked beyond the fire to the jungle outside the cave. “Your kind come here only to torment me. I ignore them all. But when I saw you fall, and scanned your injuries, I knew you were sincere. I also noticed there is something different about you.”

  “Yes?”

  “The language center of your brain is full of my nanomachines. I also scanned your genome.”

  “My what?”

  “There are numerous minute genetic differences between you and the humans who populate this jungle,” said Thinker, ignoring Archer’s question.

  “That’s because I’m not exactly from around here,” said Archer. “In fact, I’m from Earth in the year nineteen fifty-two. I need you to help me rescue Lady Vashta and return to my own time and place.”

  “Why is the Lady in need of rescue?”

  “She was captured by the Overmen’s Enforcers.”

  Thinker sighed deeply. “I knew Vastha’s crusade would come to naught. She is a hopeless idealist just like her father before her.”

  “But it hasn’t,” said Archer. “Not if we rescue her.”

  Thinker smiled, bemused. “One person does not make an army.”

  “That’s why you must help me. You came out here because you wanted to restore humanity to power, didn’t you?”

  Thinker rose to his feet, holding the staff in his right hand. “Yes, and look where it has gotten me. Now I am an outcast to my people, and a pariah to yours. They hate and fear me. I tried to show them the ways of science and one day raise an army against my despicable brothers, but they turned on me. Now I must hide out in this cave, shunned by those I came to help.”