Chapter 37
You look ridiculous in that get-up, Sands. Honestly, if you could see yourself! Although, if the situation were not so desperate, it would turn me on.
You’re not looking so bad yourself, old friend. What’s the plan?
We are getting out of here. We need to get close to one of the exits so that I can jump us out undetected by that general creature. I don’t want him to learn of my jump abilities until we are all out of here. Pretend to fight. Make it look good.
Night was falling, the air sharp with a wind off the Black Mountains. The crowd roared with anticipation as the two women faced each other across the arena, ready to fight to the death.
Astral-La moved in on Flower-of-Sands and received a cuff across the left cheek which threw her to the ground. Crowd uproar.
‘Hey, that felt for real. I didn’t mean that good.’ Astral-La leapt shakily to her feet.
‘As you said, we need to make it look good,’ Flower-of-Sands laughed as Astral-La hit the ground again.
Flower-of-Sands raised her arms in triumph as the crowd erupted on her behalf. To her surprise, she realized that she was enjoying herself and paraded the arena, kicking up dirt and waggling her hips. Astral-La, lying on the sand, looked on with amazement and considerable annoyance.
Sands! Are you serious?
Of course. I’m getting my own back for the times you frightened me. I’m a warrior queen now. Hail me, I am Sand Queen.
Seriously? This is not the time or place.
I’m just making it look real.
Well, frankly, it’s real enough, and they are all blind drunk anyway. Let’s get out of here.
A group of soldiers, clad in leather and metal, recently drafted into the gladiatorial regime by the general, entered the arena armed with spears, swords, knives, and other less obvious but equally lethal looking instruments of combat. One of the soldiers reached Flower-of-Sands, his sword professionally held and ready for a kill. Somehow, as always with Flower-of-Sands, he ended up face down in the dirt. Others reached Astral-La, who was still lying on the sand. One of the men shrieked, grabbing his throat, sinking to his knees. Another attempted to strike her, but fell back as a spear from a confused accomplice penetrated his left shoulder.
Flower-of-Sands realized her mistake in prolonging her escape by indulging in inappropriate histrionics. Leaping into the midst of soldiers bearing down on Astral-La, she threw each of them to the ground before flinging Astral-La roughly to safety. She needed to link physically to Astral-La so that they could teleport away. She soared free of the soldiers and crashed onto the ground beside her friend, whose eyes were smouldering with annoyance bordering on fury.
‘Sands, remind me …’
Then it happened. Multiple explosions. Massive flying machines blotting out the sun, menacing, creating panic throughout the crowd. Hundreds of militias jumping from the machines, some sliding down ropes, others wearing flying harnesses or sitting astride hover scooters. They wore vivid combats suits, large helmets with visual appendages. It was impossible to tell the difference between biological and artefact, and those watching had little time to consider the matter. What was clear was the assailants were hostile and were killing whatever moved beneath them.
Rounds and incendiary missiles assaulted the rows of seats around the arena. Those who had gathered to witness death, now found themselves about to die. The general, his guests, and sycophants had vanished. Spectators, desperately trying to escape the hail of bullets and death rays, crammed through inadequate doorways to what they hoped would be safety. Most of them came under direct fire and fell in piles along gangways. Bodies, limbs, and blood were everywhere. Some guards and on duty soldiers returned fire but were quickly eliminated. The Coliseum began to collapse; the roof, such as it was, caving in as all areas above ground level sagged and split like an old concertina.
Astral-La and Flower-of-Sands grabbed each other and headed for the exit, still wary of revealing Astral-La’s teleporting abilities. They reached an exit at the side of the arena and entered a corridor used by prospective gladiators. Many guards and soldiers were seeking escape from the attack, which was chaos incarnate as the attack appeared to be coming from every direction.
Astral-La jumped them both away as a shell tore through the air somewhere outside and exploded around them.
They were outside the storage unit where Daff and Wanda were hiding. Flower-of-Sands flung open the door to reveal a total absence of the two children. ‘Where is Daff?’ she cried.
‘I don’t know. And don’t scream. It will not help.’
‘Where is he? After all this time.’
‘We must look for him. Quick, follow me, and stay close. We may need to jump. And don’t panic.’
‘I’m not panicking, but I’m not leaving without him.’
Astral-La said nothing but led her distraught friend into the main corridor. It was difficult to assess the situation as so much was taking place, but it seemed that the invaders were only killing those who were obviously military. But it was not straightforward. Many local militias had dispensed with their military attire and were posing as citizens and then opening fire at the invaders. Many of the general’s servants and slaves were caught in the cross fire, mowed down amid screams of terror.
‘There they are,’ Astral-La shouted.
‘What do you mean they?’
‘Daff has a friend with him.’
‘What?’
‘No time to explain.’
A group of local militias were leading Daff and Wanda away. The children must have left their hiding place in the chaos, only to be apprehended by guards. Why? What could the guards want with the children? Perhaps they intended to use them as hostages.
The alien militia had now entered the area but were some distance from Daff and Wanda. In addition to fighting the general’s men, they were rounding up non-combatants. A nasty skirmish broke out as local militia in disguise launched an attack.
Seeing this as a useful distraction, Flower-of-Sands knocked out a local guard as he came out of the kitchen area, and took his firearm. Suddenly, she had become a lethal killing machine searching for her child. Nothing was to stand in her way. Astral-La followed and together they rounded in on the group that held Daff and Wanda hostage.
Daff turned, saw Flower-of-Sands, and cried out for help. The locals turned and opened fire. Rounds spat along the walls and ceiling. Flower-of-Sands dared not return fire for fear of hitting Daff and the girl. The locals grabbed the children and continued their march towards the compound exit. What they were hoping to achieve by holding the children hostage was unclear.
‘It’s not helping,’ Astral-La yelled as rounds from the retreating locals splayed around them.
‘I know,’ Flower-of-Sands sobbed helplessly. ‘What can we do?’
‘We must get nearer.’
‘But how?’
‘I could jump into their midst and jump the children out in a flash.’
‘Too risky!’ Flower-of-Sands was suddenly on her feet and running along the stricken corridor towards Daff and Wanda, taking cover whenever possible. It was a crazy thing to do, but the hostage takers were so stunned that at first, they did nothing.
‘Risky! What do you call that?’ Astral-La shouted after her.
Flower-of-Sands opened fire. Something was helping her; she didn’t know what and she didn’t care. All she was concerned with was Daff. This time her shots were accurate, not hitting the soldiers directly as they were using Daff and Wanda as shields, but across the walls.
It was not enough. The enemy was rallying and to Flower-of-Sands horror, preparing to kill Daff and Wanda. She moaned in anguish as a guard raise his sidearm to Daff’s head.
To the rear of the hostage takers, Alois and Helena appeared, fully armed. The hostage takers turned, disoriented by the sudden change in dynamic. And they were too late. Alois and Helena open fire with precision and professionalism and quickly dispensed with them, leaving Daff a
nd Wanda gasping at the sight of the inert and bleeding bodies around them.
Flower-of-Sands rushed into the pile of bodies and grasped Daff to her. Astral-La quickly followed and took hold of Wanda who appeared to be going into shock. Alois and Helena had also reached them.
‘Quick,’ Alois said firmly, ‘we need to move. Follow us.’
This was no time for questions, of which there were many. They rushed to the end of the corridor, amidst smoke and heat from fires that were occurring with increasing frequency.
‘In here,’ Alois ordered as they came to a steel door.
The door opened into a long passage. Unlike many corridors connected to the campus, this was not makeshift but expertly built with a view to security.
‘This is the general’s secret passage,’ Helena said. ‘or one of them. I know about it because I have worked closely with him.’
‘We must be quick,’ Alois said. ‘This opens out onto a launching pad. The invaders will eventually detect it, but hopefully not yet. The general has already made his escape, along with a bunch of his cronies. However, there should be a spare copter or two.’
‘How come you are doing this? And who are you really?’ Flower-of-Sands said, her eyes wild with apprehension, both hands clutching Daff.
They had reached the end of the passage and Alois flung open a large door.
‘Helena and I work for the Inquisition. We are from an agency contracted out by the galaxies principal civilization, the Oula, who are the legitimate Unseen.’
They were standing on a small platform below which train rails stretched into a dark tube. Lights came on as they drew nearer. An open carriage slid along the rails and came to a halt.
‘This is hi tech for the general!’ Flower-of-Sands said.
‘The general is no fool. Unlike most on this planet, he believes in a future, and has invested in it. This is his escape route. He is long gone, and will live whilst many of those he exploited are being slaughtered.’
‘And who are the invaders?’ Astral-La asked.
‘They are a faction of the Pulse,’ Helena replied, ‘who serve the Unseen, who directly feed off the suffering of its inhabitants.’
‘Yes, we know,’ Astral muttered.
‘You must go,’ Alois commanded. ‘This vehicle will take you into the heart of the Black Mountains. From there you will be on your own, but most likely there will be ‘copters available.’
Astral spoke. ‘We may not need the ‘copters. I have special abilities. But we can’t go because …’
‘There are others …’ Flower-of-Sands interrupted.
‘Venetia and Jalaal,’ Astral-La said. ‘We can’t go without them.’
‘But you must,’ Helena said. ‘For the sake of the children. You must leave now. We will locate your friends and send them on. I have just rescued them from an incident and they are in hiding.’
‘Incident? In hiding? Explain please.’
‘There is not the time. They can explain when they catch up with you.’
‘If they ever do!’
‘Look, it’s not an exact science. Its war. We will do whatever we can to get them to you.’
‘But anything could happen,’ Astral-La looked anguished and wanted to argue despite the gravity of their situation. ‘We must find them before we leave. We must all go together.’
‘You can’t,’ Helena said firmly. ‘Look, we have stuck our necks out for you people. Essentially, we have blown our cover prematurely because of you, so please do what we say.’
‘What if Flower goes with the children, and I stay,’ Astral-La said.
Flower-of-Sands looked incredulous. ‘But I can fight.’
‘We can fight too,’ Alois reached out to Flower-of-Sands and took one of her hands. ‘And the children need a fighter with them. And this is no place for children.’
Flower-of-Sands was thoughtful. ‘Okay, I will wait for you on the mountain with Daff and … ‘
Large-eyed, Wanda approached her new protector. ‘My name is Wanda. And we have food.’ Flower-of-Sands smiled and stroked her head. Then, tears in her eyes, she turned to Alois and embraced him ‘I always knew there was something about you.’
Helena reach forward and separated them. ‘Time,’ she whispered and turned to Flower-of-Sands. ‘Go!’
Chapter 38
Following the incident with the Alugular, Venetia and Jalaal had returned with Helena to the children’s hiding place, arriving to see local soldiers arresting the children and marching them away.
‘Don’t approach them,’ Helena whispered. ‘There are too many and you don’t know how to fight. Stay here. I will sort it.’
Venetia and Jalaal entered the storage unit that had housed the children, and Helena took her leave and disappeared into the nearby confusion. Venetia began crying and trembling with shock. Jalaal took her in his arms.
‘Thank you for rescuing me,’ she said softly.
Jalaal laughed self-effacingly. ‘I didn’t exactly help the situation.’
‘Yes, you did. If you had not arrived when you did, God knows what would have happened. You stopped that monster in its tracks.’
He laughed chokingly. ‘And I take credit for being nearly strangled to death.’
‘That must have been an erotic experience.’ Venetia tried to make a joke.
‘It was no joke Venetia.’ His voice was still gravelly.
‘I know that, of course I do.’
Gunfire, shouting and screaming interrupted their brief respite. They heard heavy footsteps and banging on doors. A nearby linen basket of towels was the only thing offering hope of camouflage; they dived into it. The door burst open, and someone or something surveyed the storage unit. For a moment, they thought he, she or it would spray the area with rounds, but an eruption further along the passage drew the combatant away. Venetia made as if to leave the basket, but Jalaal held her back.
Suddenly the door opened again and the presence stood surveying the area. Venetia and Jalaal held their breaths.
The confusion outside the store room grew stronger and the presence withdrew.
After waiting a few minutes, they scrambled out of the basket and made towards the door. Opening the door, they beheld general disorder and panic. The invading militia were rounding up non-combatants, many of whom were hysterical. A group of local fighters had posed as non-combatants but had been exposed, which was the cause of the recent eruption. Bodies lay on the floor, a grim sight for people raised in a non-violent culture, but at least the shooting had subsided.
Stepping over bodies, they reached the main corridor. People were running in every direction, trying to escape the invaders. Venetia and Jalaal held back.
‘What should we do?’ Venetia moaned. ‘We must find the others. Above all, we must find Astral.’
‘I’m trying to link to her, but it’s not working. Too much going on.’
‘We should have stayed in the storage unit. Astral would look for us there.’
‘First, I must get my instrument.’
‘What! Are you mad?’
‘I’m nothing without it. It is part of me.’
‘Really, oh that’s great, really great – first class. Our lives are at risk and all you can think of is your rubab. We could be killed, but that’s not important.’
‘It’s in the dormitory assigned to me. Astral and Helena will look there first anyway. It’s our best chance.’
Venetia sighed with resignation. ‘Okay, lead the way. You’re in charge.’
Although the main corridor was hazardous, they sensed a lull in the presence of the hostiles. Jalaal led the way along the corridor, passing several kitchen staff and stepping over more bodies.
Shouts from the far end of the corridor sent a shudder of dread through them. They turned briefly to see hostiles gesticulating for them to stop.
They did not. Rounds spat across the wall and ceiling. One grazed Jalaal’s left arm sending him sliding along the wall. Crying out, he wrenched open a
door and they disappeared inside.
‘This way,’ Jalaal gasped. ‘I know these passages.’
‘How? We have been here only a brief time.’
‘There’s a plan in the kitchen and I have photographic memory.’
‘Now you tell me.’
Jalaal gasped but said nothing.
‘Are you all right, Jalaal. You are hit.’
‘It’s only a flesh wound.’
‘Only! And how do you know that?’
They seemed to be in a labyrinth, but Jalaal magically knew his way. In the distance, they heard another eruption of gunfire. With any luck, they had ceased to be a priority.
Jalaal’s residence was a dreary square room with paint peeling off the walls and eight bunkbeds. No one else was there. Jalaal ran to his bunk and searched beneath it and pulled out his rubab, relief flooding through him. Venetia ran to a sink, looked for a towel, but could find nothing. Reaching inside her skirt, she tore off strips from her underwear. Soaking some of the strips in water, she proceeded to dress Jalaal’s wound, cleaning the skin, and securing a satisfactory, although temporary dressing.
‘Lucky for you, I studied first aid at school. Not my best subject, but it will do.’
Jalaal seemed uninterested in his wound; he gazed lovingly at his instrument, caressing the cover, almost on the verge of removing it.
‘Perhaps if I started to play, it would calm people down and stop the fighting,’ he said solemnly.
This irritated Venetia considerably and she reared up, preparing to make a cutting remark.
It never happened. The door burst open and a group of alien militia entered. Jalaal and Venetia raise their arms, closing their eyes, and waiting for the end. Crisis had now become routine. One of the militia spoke something incomprehensible through a helmet that covered its face – if indeed it had a face; superficially humanoid, the nature of these invaders was unknown to Venetia and Jalaal.
For a few moments, Jalaal and Venetia expected to die, but the invaders decided otherwise. They moved in on the hapless couple and ushered them towards the door. Somehow, Jalaal had snatched his rubab and folded it into his outer clothing. Years of practice had taught him how to do this undetected. That practice was now bearing fruit.
Flower-of-Sands: The Extraordinary Adventures of a Female Astronaut (Seriously Intergalactic Book 1) Page 33
