The Dream of the Iron Dragon: An Alternate History Viking Epic (Saga of the Iron Dragon Book 1)

by Robert Kroese

  “I’m here. Go ahead.”

  “Bad news. Looks like the Cho-ta’an ship pulled it off. Whoever’s flying that thing has balls of steel. They’ve settled into an orbit about three thousand klicks below you.”

  “What’s their velocity?”

  “About 40,000 kph and slowing. They just slipped underneath you. That’s the good news.”

  “I assume the bad news is that they’re going to be coming around again in about an hour and a half.”

  “A little less than that, actually. Looks like they’re trying to match your orbit.”

  “Damn it,” Slater grumbled. “So now what?”

  “Don’t panic,” Carpenter said. “You’re going to have to increase your deceleration rate to enter the atmosphere before they catch up to you. I’ve done some back-of-the-envelope calculations, and it looks like three gees will do it.”

  Slater groaned.

  “You’ll survive. Assuming they aren’t saving a few missiles for a rainy day, all they’ve got is railguns. Effective range of a couple hundred klicks, maybe. Much less in the atmosphere.”

  “All right,” Slater said. “Should I crank the thrusters up to three gees now?”

  “Yeah. I’ll send you an updated flight plan in a few minutes.”

  They spent several minutes at three gee deceleration. Slater received the updated plan from Carpenter and plugged it into the nav system. A few minutes later, their deceleration decreased slightly.

  “Are we still aiming for Colorado, Carpenter?” Slater asked.

  “’Fraid not,” Carpenter replied. “The North America route would give the Cho-ta’an time to catch you. You’ll have to set down sooner, which will put you about seven thousand kilometers to the east. Looks like North Africa is our best bet. Climate’s a bit inhospitable, but at least there won’t be many people around.”

  “You’re talking about the fucking Sahara desert,” Gabe said. “Where are we going to find fuel to burn in the Sahara?”

  “Relax,” Carpenter said. “Top priority right now is evading the Cho-ta’an. Once you’re on the ground, we can look for a more optimal place to set up shop. The good news is that I’ll have line-of-sight with the lander for the next few hours.” Andrea Luhman was already hurtling toward Jupiter, but as long as it was on the same side of the Earth as the lander, they’d be able to communicate.

  Slater heard a high-pitched whine that gradually turned into a dull roar. They had entered the atmosphere.

  “Looking good, Slater. You’re over the Atlantic now. In a few minutes… shit.”

  “What is it, Carpenter?”

  “The Cho-ta’an ship. Damn, these guys can fly.”

  “What, Carpenter? What the hell is going on?”

  “Okay, don’t panic. They’ve entered the atmosphere, but they’re still about a thousand klicks behind you. Railgun range in the atmosphere is a hundred klicks, max. And they’ll have to be a lot closer than that to hit a moving target the size of the lander.”

  “How fast are they moving?”

  “Faster than you. Man, this is going to be tight.”

  “Find me a mountain range,” Slater said. “If I can put some mass between us before they get in range, they’ll never find us. We’ll just power down, throw the camo nets over the lander and wait them out.”

  “Good idea,” Carpenter said. “Give me a sec.” He was quiet for some time. “Okay, in a couple minutes you’re going to see land. That’s western Africa. As soon as you’re over land, adjust your heading thirty degrees to port.

  “What, no mountains in Africa?” Slater said.

  “Too much empty space between you and any cover. Going to have to take you to Europe.”

  “Copy that,” Slater said. A hazy brown strip was growing larger at the edge of her window. She trusted this was the coast of Africa, although it was too indistinct and remote to make out any features of the landscape. The sky was clear, but they were still twenty kilometers up and traveling over two thousand kilometers per hour. Soon they were over land, and Slater pulled the lander hard to the left.

  “They’re closing on you fast, Slater,” Carpenter said. “Your best chance is to lose them in the Pyrenees.”

  “Pyrenees? Where the hell is that?”

  “Mountain range between Spain and France. Can’t miss ‘em. How fast can you descend in that thing and maintain control?”

  “About thirty meters a second.”

  “Do it. And increase your velocity, if you can. You need cover, fast.”

  “I’m on it.”

  She nosed the lander down and it began to descend at a sickening rate. Soon they were over water again—water of an impossible azure that Slater was vaguely aware was the Mediterranean Sea. Her knowledge of Earth geography was decidedly spotty, but every human child still learned about the cultures of the Mediterranean, where human civilization was born.

  When they were only a few thousand meters up, land appeared on the port side again. “You should be seeing Spain on your left,” Carpenter said as if in response to her mental question. “In about a thousand kilometers, you’ll approach a mountain range. That’s the Pyrenees. Get on the other side of them and then bank as hard as you can to the right. Find a valley and set the lander down as fast as you can. As long as you’re in the air, you’re a sitting duck. Those railguns will slice right though you.”

  “Copy that,” Slater said.

  Not much later, Slater spied a bank of clouds butting up against a jagged line of gray and white. At the near edge of the clouds, the foothills of the Pyrenees were visible. The lander was barely two thousand meters above them. Slater pulled up and leveled out. “I’m going to have to gain some altitude to clear those peaks,” she said.

  “Stay low as long as you can. The Cho-ta’an ship is within a hundred klicks now. If you stay below the clouds, they’ll have a hard time spotting you from above. They’ll have to follow you through the mountains, which should give you an advantage. I’d expect them to start firing at any moment. Take evasive action if you can do it without slowing down.”

  “Copy that,” Slater said again. “Let’s see what this beast can do.” The lander groaned as she pulled the stick to the right. The lander wasn’t built for tricky atmospheric maneuvers. Its profile was too exposed and its wings were too stubby, so that the aux thrusters had to be used just to keep it airborne. Her only consolation was that as clumsy as the lander was, the massive Cho-ta’an warship was worse. Those things were built for interplanetary combat, not flying through mountain ranges.

  The lander’s altitude remained steady. Slater saw the wisdom of staying close to the ground, but she also knew the one thing the lander was good at: falling. If the Cho-ta’an ship started firing, she wanted to have the option of cutting the aux thrusters and dropping like a rock.

  She didn’t have to wait long. To her left, a line of gray projectiles streaked past, missing the lander by less than ten meters. Cho-ta’an railguns shot streams of explosive projectiles about the size of a human fist. Each one of them possessed enough explosive power to tear a gaping hole in the lander. No sound accompanied the stream: whatever noise the railguns made was traveling too slowly to reach the lander, which was still flying almost double the speed of sound.

  Slater pulled the yoke to the right, and another stream of projectiles shot past, even closer this time. The lander was now over the foothills. A blanket of gray clouds slid over top of them. The mountains ahead grew steadily larger.

  “You need to descend, Slater!” Carpenter yelled over the comm. “Use the terrain!”

  “I’ve got this, Carpenter. Trust me.” She managed to keep her voice from cracking as she said it.

  Slater waited until the stream of projectiles stopped, counted to three, then pulled sharply to the left. The lander groaned with the turn, and another stream shot past, this time on their right.

  “Jesus, Slater,” O’Brien gasped from behind her. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

 
“Cho-ta’an railguns take three seconds to aim between volleys,” Gabe said quietly. “She knows what she’s doing. Now shut up and let her concentrate.”

  Slater smiled grimly. She wished she had Gabe’s confidence. Her knowledge of Cho-ta’an weaponry was entirely academic. She’d never been under fire before, but the IDL required all pilots to study basic evasive maneuvers. The training really hadn’t amounted to much: her instructor had impressed on the class the futility of trying to evade a Cho-ta’an warship in a civilian craft. The goal of the training was simply to allow them to stay alive long enough to eject from the ship. That wasn’t an option at present.

  Slater pushed the yoke forward and she felt her insides jump as the lander dived under another volley. The green, tree-dotted hills below surged toward them. She pulled back on the yoke and the lander leveled out, barely a stone’s throw from the treetops. Yet another volley shot past somewhere overhead.

  Slater pulled the yoke to the left, following the course of a creek that ran along the bottom of a valley, then banked hard to the right to avoid a snow-capped mountain that arose directly ahead. Behind her, she heard O’Brien groaning with nausea.

  The lander’s left wing missed the mountainside by an arm’s length. Adrenaline shot through her. She hadn’t meant to cut it that close. But nobody behind her said a word. They had no choice but to trust her. Soon they would all find out whether that trust was misplaced.

  The thought had barely crossed her mind when she heard a dull thudding from her left. It took her a moment to understand what had happened.

  “We’ve been hit,” Gabe said, loudly but calmly. “Nobody panic. Stay seated and get ready for a rough landing. Slater, you’ve got this.”

  Slater nodded, grateful for Gabe’s vote of confidence but not feeling it.

  “Slater, you okay?” came Carpenter’s voice.

  “Tore through the wing,” Slater said. “Getting some drag, but no serious damage. Aux thrusters are compensating.”

  “They’re getting really close,” Carpenter said. “You’re going to lose your cloud cover if you leave the range. Double back when you can.”

  She made a wide bank to the right around another peak. Another streak of projectiles shot overhead.

  “This is no time to get conservative, Slater,” Gabe said from behind her. “You don’t get points for dodging the mountain if the railgun takes us out.”

  Slater nodded. Gabe was right. They weren’t going to get out of this if she didn’t take some risks. She pulled the yoke hard to the right and back as another volley shot past. The Cho-ta’an ship was now visible as a dot on the rear viewscreen, visible without magnification.

  For a moment, her view was obscured by clouds. When they’d cleared, she found herself flying directly toward a mountainside. Traveling at over Mach two, they’d impact in seconds. The lander shrieked and groaned as she pulled as hard as she could to the left, aiming for a small gap between two peaks. Another series of thuds sounded to her left. Warnings flashed on the control panel.

  “Shit!” she yelled. “We’ve lost the port aux thrusters. I’m not going to be able to bank. Can barely maintain altitude.” She held her breath as the lander barely cleared the gap between the two peaks. The clouds cleared and soon they were soaring over the hills of southern France.

  Well, that’s that, thought Slater. I did my best, but it wasn’t enough. No more mountains, no more cloud cover, no way to dodge the railgun. They were going to die.

  “Slater!” Carpenter’s voice cried over the comm. “You did it!”

  Slater stared at the control panel, flashing furiously with warnings. “Did what?” she asked, unable to make sense of Carpenter’s jubilant tone.

  “Outmaneuvered them,” Carpenter said. “The Cho-ta’an ship grazed the mountainside. They’re losing speed. Altitude is dropping.”

  “Huh,” Slater said. That was something, at least. The Cho-ta’an were going to die along with them.

  “Can you pull up?” Carpenter asked. “I’ll try to get you to a better location.”

  “No can do,” Slater replied. “Banking is going to be a problem too. Even at max thrust, we’re losing altitude.”

  “Shit,” said Carpenter. “Well, you picked a great place to land, if you’re trying to get the attention of all of Europe. You’re headed straight for Paris.”

  “Can we land south of there?”

  “Still pretty heavily populated, but I guess we don’t have much choice. The sooner you can put her down, the better.”

  “Copy that.” Slater reduced thrust and the nose of the lander began to tip forward. “Damn it,” she growled, and engaged the thrusters again. “Uh, Carpenter, we’ve got a problem. Aux thrusters aren’t coming on to compensate for lack of thrust.”

  “Oh,” Carpenter replied. The simplicity of his response made her heart sink. Carpenter was never at a loss for words. He knew what she did: if the aux thrusters wouldn’t fire, they’d have to keep the main thrusters firing to stay level. If they reduced thrust, they’d lose lift. The nose would drop, and they’d hurtle toward the ground. Slater remembered somebody telling her about a species of sea animal on Earth called a shark. Supposedly if the shark stopped swimming, it would die. That’s us, thought Slater. If we stop moving forward, we die.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Carpenter said. “You’ve got to lower thrust as much as you can and still stay level. Eventually the atmosphere will slow you down enough to make a landing. I’m going to try to find you a large flat area to set down.”

  “The low countries should work,” Gabe said. “The Netherlands or Belgium. Or whatever they’re called these days.”

  “I was thinking larger and flatter than that,” Carpenter said.

  “Larger and flatter…” Gabe repeated, puzzled.

  Reyes smiled grimly at him. “He means the ocean, genius.”

  *****

  An ocean landing wouldn’t be a landing at all. It would be a crash—one they were unlikely to survive. Not that it mattered. If the lander sank to the bottom of the ocean, their mission was already doomed. They were never going to get off Earth.

  It wasn’t actually the ocean Carpenter had in mind in any case: it was the North Sea, the vast, rough, icy cold body of water that separated Scandinavia from the British Isles and the European mainland. It was certainly large enough, although “flat” was debatable. According to Gabe, it wasn’t unusual for the North Sea to have waves ten meters high. Carpenter insisted the sea looked “relatively calm” today, whatever that meant.

  Unfortunately, Slater couldn’t reduce the lander’s thrust by more than thirty percent without the nose dropping. Their speed was still falling, but not enough.

  “You’re going to overshoot the sea,” Carpenter said.

  “Is that good news or bad news?” Slater asked.

  “Let’s go with good,” Carpenter replied after a moment. “You’re headed toward Norway. Odds are fifty-fifty you’ll find a nice snowy plain to set down in.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “You’ll hit a mountain. But at least it’ll be over quickly.”

  Slater sighed. He was right. An instantaneous death sounded a lot better than drowning in the North Sea.

  “The Cho-ta’an ship is down,” Carpenter said. “It just hit the water about fifty klicks behind you.”

  “Any chance they’ll survive?”

  “Not a clue. The ship is sinking like a rock, though.”

  “Well, thank God for that at least.” If they somehow survived the landing, at least they wouldn’t have the Cho-ta’an to worry about.

  They were now only five hundred meters up and still traveling over half the speed of sound. The sea slid beneath them like a tablet of bluish-black marble streaked with white. Snow-covered mountains loomed ahead. Soon they were once again over land—intricate swirls of rocky land that jutted into the dark mass of the sea. The coast was dotted with small, primitive structures, many of which had stone chimneys that emitted plu
mes of light gray smoke. Several small, square-sailed ships floated near the shore. Further inland, the snow-covered ground sloped gently toward a distant mountain range.

  The mountains ran mainly northeast to southwest, roughly parallel with the lander’s current course, so it was not inconceivable the lander would hit the ground before they reached the mountains. Even if it did, though, it would hit at over five hundred kilometers per hour. Soon they were close enough to the ground to see individual people, who stopped what they were doing to gaze at the strange silvery object hurtling through the sky. There wasn’t much the crew could do but stare back.

  They were moving gradually farther inland as they soared over the coast. Buildings were becoming more scarce, and the few people they saw seemed to be traveling to or from one of the coastal settlements. Many of these were using mules—and sometimes sleds—to transport loads of cargo.

  After another few minutes, Slater could no longer see the fjords. For some time their view was dominated by evergreen forests, and then they were over mountains.

  “Shit,” Slater muttered. There was no way they were going to survive a mountain landing.

  “Hang on,” Carpenter said. “Bank left. Try to line yourself up with that valley.”

  “On it,” Slater said, as the lander shot over a wide river valley. There was enough flat ground on either side of the river that they might still be able to make a landing they could walk away from. The lander groaned and shuddered as she pulled it to left. Soon they were above forest again. The tops of the taller trees nearly brushed against the bottom of the lander. A few klicks ahead, a wide swathe of pure white opened up—a snow-covered plain sloping gently down from the foothills.

  “You see that white patch?” Carpenter asked. “That’s your best shot.”

  “I’m going to overshoot it,” Slater said, watching the line of trees approaching at the end of the plain, some ten klicks away.

  “Not if you shut off the thrusters.”

  “If I shut off the thrusters, we’re going to crash.”

  Carpenter didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The lander was going to crash no matter what they did. The only question was where.