Battleship Raider

by Paul Tomlinson

  The blast struck the robot in a spot that would have been between its shoulder blades if it had had any. The robot fell backwards, firing its rifle into the sky. It hit the ground and lay twitching like an overturned turtle. Was it dead? I wasn’t going to bet my life on it.

  Leaping from ship to tree had gone remarkably well. Attempting another leap – from treetop to treetop – would be tempting fate. Only a fool would try it. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Fuelled by adrenaline, I was feeling invincible. Of course, this wasn’t going to end well. But the risk of injury from travelling tree to tree seemed less than the risk of being shot by a damaged robot if I headed down to the ground. So I jumped.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The target tree wasn’t nearly as soft and springy as the first one. It was like throwing myself from a feather duvet towards a concrete post. Continuing my cartoon exploits, I smacked face-first into the trunk and began to slide down. I tried to grab a branch to stop the fall and felt a tearing pain in my hand – it felt like I had lost at least two fingers. My feet hit another branch hard enough to rattle my teeth and the branch bent as if preparing to springboard me on toward even greater agonies. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I bent my knees and grabbed the branch with my undamaged hand, clinging on as the branch snapped back up. Leaves rained down from the tree, but I managed to keep my perch.

  Despite the burning pain in my hand and the fact that vision in my left eye was blurred and the flesh around it swelling, I wanted to keep moving, to get as far away from the fallen security robot as I could. I made myself look down at my hand. The fingers were still there but they didn’t look like they were where they should be. They were either dislocated or broken. I didn’t bother trying to get the glove off.

  I was about ten feet below the tops of the trees now. At this height, the branches of neighbouring trees were quite close together. With care, I was able to step from one stout branch to another, increasing my distance from the ship. I didn’t encounter birds or any of the monkey-like creatures – I assumed the noise of my falling had frightened them away. Apart from the stirring of leaves as I passed from tree to tree, the forest was eerily quiet. This was a good thing, as it meant I stood a better chance of hearing the robot approach – assuming that it hadn’t been paralysed by the fall.

  After half-an-hour I decided I could pause and catch my breath. I climbed down to the ground and sat between the roots of a huge ancient tree. My hand was throbbing and sending flashes of red-hot pain up my arm. Contorting my body so I could get my backpack off without touching the injured fingers took a little time. I fished out the little medical kit. There were antibiotics, which I didn’t think I needed, and a hypo-spray of anaesthetic which I was sure that I did. I pressed it against the inside of my wrist and injected it. My hand and the lower part of my arm grew numb and cold. It was a nice feeling.

  I carefully peeled off the glove and exposed my poor twisted fingers. The pinkie finger and the one next to it – the one I had twice worn a wedding ring on – had been pulled out of their sockets. Thankfully, the skin was unbroken. I needed to get the fingers back into place before the pain-killer wore off. I knew it was still going to hurt and I knew I had to avoid screaming because that would just alert the robot to my position. One at a time or both together? I gripped the ends of both fingers tightly and pulled as hard as I dared.

  I passed out for the best part of ten minutes. Whether or not I screamed, I don’t know. There was a good chance I did. My injured fingers looked like they were back where they were supposed to be. But they looked a lot fatter than they used to. I used a piece of clean white bandage to bind them together with my middle finger and then wrapped the rest of the bandage around my hand. That was as much protection as I could give them. The anaesthetic was wearing off, but the pain that was resurfacing was just a dull throbbing. I used an antiseptic wipe on my face – there wasn’t much blood on it when I looked down at it. My left eye was almost completely swollen shut now. During all of this I had been listening carefully, but the jungle around me was silent except for the gentle swooshing of the trees. And the distant rumble of thunder.

  I looked into my backpack, doing a quick inventory. I had just under a litre of drinking water left and a protein bar that claimed to be chili con carne flavoured. And I was all out of clean underwear and socks. As near as I could judge, the Trekker was parked about ten miles north-east of my current position. It was now late afternoon and there was no way I could reach the vehicle before nightfall. That and the threat of a rainstorm set me to thinking that I would need to find somewhere to shelter. Preferable somewhere I could defend if the security robot made an appearance. I had two shots left in the rifle. My pistol was fully-loaded, but unless I was at point-blank range, it wouldn’t do me much good. And I didn’t want to get that close to the robot.

  A nice dry cave would have been an ideal spot to hole-up for the night, but I had no idea whether the jungle offered anything like that. Without Trixie, I had no way of finding out. Lacking any other data, I had to consider the fact that the best source of shelter within easy reach was the wreck of the Celestia. But did I really want to go back there? And if I did, how was I going to get in? I couldn’t use the hatch I’d originally opened because some fool had jammed it shut from the inside. And was that last security robot still at the crash site, waiting for me? I soon had the answer to this last question.

  I was just about to get to my feet and choose a direction when I saw something that kept me frozen in place. Through the leaves of nearby undergrowth I could see the security robot. It stood motionless, rifle held ready, scanning the area. If I moved from my hiding place among the tree roots, my body heat would provide the robot’s vision with a bright orange-red target to fire at. I slowly raised my rifle, resting it on the tree root and taking careful aim. I couldn’t afford to waste my last two shots. The chest provided the best target and I breathed out slowly and then squeezed the trigger.

  A hit! But only in the shoulder. The robot staggered backwards, firing its own gun up into the trees. I didn’t wait to see what happened then – I scramble to my feet and ran.

  I could hear the robot crashing through the undergrowth in pursuit. But worse than that was a sound somewhere off to my right. It was the roar of a dragon. The gunfire had attracted its attention. I veered left, away from the sound.

  Another rifle blast and a tree just in front of me exploded, a hole blasted through the trunk. The tree shook, shedding leaves, and then started to fall. I tried to curve around it, but I couldn’t get away far enough and the branches of the falling tree knocked me to the ground. I tried to get out from under it, but a branch was pinning my leg to the ground. Hearing the robot approach, I lay as still as I could and looked out through the leaves.

  The robot appeared from the shadows and stopped in the little clearing, scanning the ground and the trees around it. The still smouldering fallen tree might be shielding me from the robot’s infrared sensors, but as it got closer it was sure to see me. The rifle had been knocked from my hand when the tree fell. I drew my pistol, knowing it would be useless unless the robot was right on top of me.

  The robot took a step towards me. Then another. Its head swept from left to right as it scanned. Another step. The head stopped and its eyes were pointing directly at me. It had picked up my heat signature. It raised the rifle. Foliage to the right of the robot seemed to explode suddenly as something big leapt into the clearing. The robot half-turned, swinging the rifle round as it did so.

  The dragon darted forwards, jaws open wide. Tilting its head it closed its teeth around the robot’s midsection and lifted it from the ground. It shook the robot so that its shark-like teeth could saw through it. The robot tried to get the rifle in a position where a shot would do some good. A bullet blasted a chunk of flesh out of the dragon’s side, but this only served to anger it. The robot was shaken like a doll and the dragon’s teeth finally did their thing, cutting the robot in half. The two parts fell to the g
round. The robot’s upper body adjusted its position, turned the rifle on the dragon. A shot grazed its neck and as the dragon leaned forward to roar at its attacker, I saw the damaged eye. This was the same dragon I had encountered before.

  While robot and dragon fought, I had to take my chance and try to get away. I used my good hand to scrape dirt away from under my trapped leg and managed to free it. Then I grabbed up the rifle and ran – or rather hobbled – as fast as my legs would carry me.

  I ran blindly through the undergrowth. Behind me, I could hear the fight continuing. A shot and then a roar from the dragon. A hit but not a fatal one. And then there was another sound, off to my left – something big crashing through the jungle. A second dragon? It too must have been drawn by the sound of gunfire. I headed away from the sound. Multiple rifle blasts – and then a triumphant bellow from the dragon. I guessed that he had won. At least I didn’t have to worry about the robot anymore.

  In the quiet that followed, I kept running, not worrying how much sound I was making. And as I went, I wondered whether it had really been the sound of gunfire that had attracted my one-eyed dragon friend. The data Trixie had pulled up about the sapphire dragons had said that their tongues could pick up the scent of its prey from six miles away. It knew my scent. And it had an old score to settle. The robot had probably just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I hoped the wounds inflicted by the robot would slow the dragon down. I had one shot left in the rifle and I didn’t think it was going to be enough to stop a charging dragon. And my pistol would be about as much use as a rubber band gun.

  I thought about the movement I had heard before. Were there now two dragons out there? And if so, would they fight each other or would they team up to track me? I wished Trixie was there to whisper in my ear and advise me on the behaviour patterns of sapphire dragons.

  Without really being aware of it, I had been running in a wide arc back towards the wreck of the Celestia. Perhaps I was drawing on some primitive survival instinct. I wasn’t navigating by the position of the sun – because I couldn’t see it. I wasn’t sure how long it would be until nightfall, but it did seem to be growing darker. But that could have been the storm clouds piling up overhead rather than the fact that the sun was going down. I wanted to get back to the wreck before it got too dark to see. Could dragons see in the dark? Another question that Trixie could have answered.

  Even when I reached the Celestia I was going to have to deal with the problem of getting inside. Climbing with two damaged fingers and a bruised knee was going to make for slow, painful progress. But I’d worry about that when I got there. I believed that my very strong desire not to be eaten would allow me access to previously untapped reserves of energy and luck.

  I was aware of sounds of pursuit without really listening for them – another instance of that survival instinct, I presumed. There were two pursuers, I was sure, one behind and to the left and the other on the right that was much closer. If I had had the energy, I would have cursed loudly, blaming Old Jack Sterling for getting me into this mess. But I couldn’t spare the effort – and if anyone was to blame for all this, it was me. I decided that if I got out of this alive, I would forgive myself and buy myself a drink. And if I didn’t, well, I wouldn’t be around to blame anyone.

  The trees thinned out ahead of me and I caught sight of the stained metal hull of the ship. I was afraid it might be a mirage caused by lack of oxygen – like an oasis glimpsed in the desert. But as I approached, it didn’t shimmer and vanish. A safe haven was within sight. I didn’t need to get inside, I just had to climb high enough that the dragon couldn’t reach me. His claws might allow him to climb trees but I doubted they’d get much purchase on smooth metal. My limping jog became a near sprint. I almost made it.

  The dragon broke through the undergrowth and stood between me and the ship. I skidded to a stop on the wet leaves. As if this moment wasn’t dramatic enough, thunder rumbled overhead and lightning lit up the scene. The dragon leaned towards me and roared. It turned its head slightly, showing me the socket where I had ruined its eye, and then it roared at me again. I think it was saying ‘It’s payback time!’ It raked its claws through the soil, gouging out deep cuts. ‘I’m going to do this to your flesh!’ The crowd in the arena would be roaring at this point – waiting for the thumb to jab downwards, signalling that the dragon should attack. More thunder and heavy raindrops began to spatter on the leaves like drumbeats. ‘Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!’

  My options were limited. I could raise the rifle and try to take out its other eye – and hope that it would flee rather than attack blindly, relying on its sense of smell. Or I could make a dash off to one side and try and climb one of the taller trees. Up there I might be able to make my way to the ship and jump back onto it. But even if the dragon didn’t manage to claw its way up and drag me down, my chances of reaching the ship safely in my present damaged state were slim to none. Any sudden move would almost certainly trigger an attack, but standing still wasn’t going to achieve anything. I glanced left and right, trying to spot a tree that might offer a chance for escape. It had to be sturdy enough that the dragon couldn’t throw its weight against it and topple it. And high enough that I stood a chance of getting up beyond its reach. There was a gnarled old tree about ten feet to my right. It was covered in moss and vines that stood out like veins. There should be enough purchase there for me to be able to climb rapidly. I couldn’t see the top of it, which I took to be a good sign.

  Three-two-one-GO!

  I ran. The dragon roared. Thunder exploded overhead. And I screamed like a wild thing. I heard crashing behind me but didn’t look back. I reached the tree and scrambled up, hoping it wasn’t so wet that I would slide straight down into the waiting jaws of the beast. Keep climbing. Don’t look down.

  The tree shook as the dragon slammed into it. I clung on as if my life depended on it. Oh, wait, it actually did. I climbed higher as I heard a scratching and scraping sound below – the dragon using its claws to try and climb up after me. I risked a glance down. And saw the vines breaking, unable to support the dragon’s weight. It tried again, digging its massive toe claws into the bark of the tree. It managed to draw itself up a few yards, but again its weight made the claws rip through the bark and slide downwards.

  I reached a higher branch and sat there for a moment to draw breath. The rain was heavier now and it gradually worked its way through the canopy of the trees and dripped down in large drops. The wet would make it harder for me to climb – but hopefully the same was true of the dragon.

  The dragon was on the ground, glaring up at me and roaring occasionally. It leaned back on its haunches and launched itself upwards. Its leap brought snapping jaws close to me and I pulled up my feet – but the jump had been eight feet short. Shaking its head, the beast coiled itself again, ready to spring. Its teeth were a little closer, but still some way short.

  If I fired the rifle into its gaping mouth, would that be enough to kill it? At the very least, it would do it some serious harm – and it might be enough to discourage it and send it on its way. As the dragon prepared to make another jump, I raised the rifle and took aim. Leaning forward, it seemed as if its teeth would reach me this time. My finger tightened on the trigger.

  The ground underneath the dragon exploded, showering me with compost. The force of the blast almost knocked me off my perch. I hadn’t fired the shot. I spat out bits of rotted leaf and peered down, trying to see the dragon. It lay on its side twitching, stunned by the blast. It shook itself and got to its feet. For the moment I was forgotten and it turned its attention on the source of the explosion. It roared at the shadowy shape and then turned and fled.

  I blinked, squinting with my one good eye to see through the rain, trying to catch sight of my saviour. And I saw that the second ‘beast’ that had pursued me wasn’t another dragon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a big military robot – perhaps eight feet tall and almost as wide at the shoulders. It
s battered and scratched paintwork had once been bright red, so maybe it had originally been a firefighter on the Celestia’s launch deck before someone remade it into a walking tank. The armour protecting its shoulders looked like it had been made from salvaged steel plate and its mid-section featured the same badly-welded patchwork of scrap. Its head sat low between its shoulders and looked like it didn’t belong there – it was bright yellow and would have been better suited to one of those waiters that say things like ‘Glad to be of service.’ Large feet and hand made it look like a giant metal ape. I say ‘hand,’ singular, because in place of a left arm it had some sort of cannon that was still smoking.

  I was just about to wave and shout ‘Thanks’ – but the robot turned and pointed the cannon towards me. This wasn’t a rescue, it had just targeted the dragon first. I was next.

  I scrambled to my feet and launched myself from the branch towards the tree behind. I felt the heat as the tree I had been in blossomed into flame and the force of the blast gave me an extra push. My chest slammed into a thick branch and I grabbed hold of it, gasping for breath. I pulled myself up, wanting to keep moving before the robot targeted me again.

  The rain was coming down heavier now, making the branches slippery and reducing visibility. Drifting smoke from the burning tree only made things worse. But I had to keep going. Some of the trees were so close together I could run along the branch of one and step onto a branch of its neighbour. In other places, I had to launch myself across the gap and hope the branch I was aiming for would support my weight when I hit it.