A group of Vonnegan troopers was still standing outside the only doorway they had found. As far as Morgan knew, the only other way out of the room was the triangular hole she had cut in the wall. She could carve a new opening with her Meursault blade, but she was sure that troops had filled that entire hallway. She walked to the spot where she had cut through the wall, and her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a large group of troops walking back and forth, discussing how best to get at the raiders.
None of the guards at the open doorway were shooting at her or her friends, she realized. Morgan figured that they appreciated exactly just how many explosives filled the room and the extent of the damage they could cause.
“You have the best aim out of all of us,” Morgan said, handing Pistol one of the two blasters she had picked up. “Only shoot if you know you’ll hit your target.”
The android held the blaster out with his good arm, then adjusted its position so his aim was reliant entirely on the one eye that still functioned. The eye began to glow as it calibrated for accuracy. When he was finished, he stood up, aimed the weapon, and shot the shoulder of one of the armored troops who was too close to the doorway. The Vonnegan fell flat on his back. Upon seeing his comrade get blasted, a second trooper, who had also been near the open door, darted backward and away from danger.
“They’re still out there,” Morgan said to Pistol. “Any time they try and sneak in, remind them how good of a shot an android can be.”
Pistol’s only confirmation that he had heard the order was a slight nod. Moments later, a second group of troopers appeared by the doorway as they tried to decide how to kill or capture the raiders without blowing themselves up, along with the entire facility. Pistol squeezed the trigger. A laser blast struck a Vonnegan between the chest plates of his armor and dropped him to the ground exactly like the first one. The others near him hid behind the wall, out of sight.
“We seem to be stuck,” Morgan said. “Very stuck.”
Traskk offered a growl of agreement.
As they watched, the android’s advanced tactical program cycled through its progression. Tiny dots of light flashed at various places across his pupil as his systems calculated various targets and the potential accuracy of every possible shot.
To their side, the same section of the wall that Traskk had moved back into position began to screech as a group of Vonnegan guards attempted to collectively do what Traskk had managed all by himself. In response, Pistol’s optics focused on the open doorway for half a second, then swiveled to assess the area of the wall where Vonnegan troops might appear at any moment. No part of him moved except for his eye, which was unblinking and rapid in its rotations.
A Vonnegan trooper peered around the edge of the doorway at the end of the room. Before he could pull his head back, a laser streak flashed across the room and struck his helmet, causing him to tumble to the ground.
Another trooper took a chance. This one, instead of playing cautious, tried to run into the room at full speed and take a defensive position before any of the raiders could get him. The android’s calculations, however, were much too fast for a Vonnegan to outrace. The trooper was only two steps across the room before a pair of laser blasts hit the side of his chest plating and dropped him to the ground.
“They’re losing their patience,” Morgan said.
Again, Traskk growled in agreement.
Vere said, “As soon as we get out of here, we have to build the round table.”
Not knowing what that was supposed to mean and not particularly caring, Morgan replied, “We’ve got to get out of here first. Every minute we waste is time for more Vonnegan forces to make sure we never get home.”
Traskk growled and pointed in the general direction of the spaceport, where the Pendragon would still be parked and where the Griffin Fire would be providing protection. Morgan groaned at the thought of the damage her ship might be taking.
“Pistol, any suggestions?”
The android didn’t turn his attention away from either of the targets he was scanning. “Not enough information to base a decision on. The blast-proof walls affect my ability to scan for alternate routes back to our ships.”
The triangular section of wall slid forward, then slammed hard against the floor with a ringing boom. A group of seven or eight troopers was there. Traskk dived on top of Vere to block her from any laser blasts that would be coming at them. Pistol pulled the trigger of his blaster over and over. Crouching next to a metal storage bin, Morgan did the same.
Most of the shots hit the first four Vonnegans while the troopers behind them continued to return fire. One of the shots, however, missed the open section of wall and bounced off the interior blast-proofing, then went ricocheting around the room, zipping off ten walls before finally being absorbed.
Morgan turned toward Pistol for a second. “I said, only if you know you can hit them.”
Pistol was unfazed by the criticism. “All six of my shots hit their target.”
Knowing she was the only other person inside the room with a blaster, Morgan cringed and kept her mouth shut.
Four more troopers darted into the room, two from the doorway and two from the open section of the wall. Morgan hit the two from the hallway. Pistol shot one of the guards coming in the doorway, but the other managed to hide behind a container without being hit.
“We’re running out of time,” Morgan said.
“Time?” Vere said, then chuckled as if amused by the concept.
Shaking her head and sighing, Morgan tried to ignore the mutterings of the person who had once been the CasterLan leader.
Vonnegan troops were gathering outside the hole in the hallway, preparing for a coordinated attack on the room.
“Go get them,” Morgan said to Traskk, patting the scales on his shoulder.
In the time it took her eyelids to blink once, the reptile was already gone, bolting between rows of explosives containers on his way to rip apart the enemy. Moments later, she heard one trooper offer a muffled yell before going silent. Another screamed, fired a blaster, then went quiet in mid-yell. Two others screamed, the sound of their fear echoing in the cavernous room as a warning to any other Vonnegan who would be dumb enough to face the rage of an angry Basilisk.
Three more troopers dashed inside the open doorway. Pistol was able to get two of them but the third was able to find cover and begin stalking the aisles of containers.
“We’re running out of time,” Morgan said again, trying to think of something for them to do, some way to get out of the room they were trapped in. She had the suspicion that by the time they did manage to get back up to the spaceport, it would be too late. Both ships would be destroyed and she would look up at the sky to see a dozen Athens Destroyers orbiting Terror-Dhome.
A laser blast began bouncing off the walls. Then another. And another after that. Only three laser blasts were being deflected back and forth off of every wall, but they were flying so fast that it seemed like a hundred blasts ricocheting around them.
“Down,” Morgan yelled so none of her companions would get hit.
From some unseen part of the other side of the room, another of Traskk’s ferocious growls echoed.
Laser blasts kept ricocheting off the walls. Looking at the open doorway and then at the hole in the wall, Morgan could see there were no Vonnegan troopers firing.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Morgan almost said, then noticed that it was Vere who was shooting.
She must have picked up the blaster that Morgan had put on the ground and was now firing shot after shot toward the doorways. Almost none of the shots hit their targets, however. As a result, the entire room was filled with streaks of lasers that were bouncing all around them and the containers of explosives.
With a frown, Vere said, “It turns out that two years of hard labor does awful things for your shooting accuracy.” However, that didn’t stop her from continuing to try and help keep the Vonnegans away.
“What are y
ou doing?” Morgan hissed, grabbing the blaster from Vere.
Vere was still standing where she could get shot. Instead of being worried about the threat, she displayed a calm expression of complete serenity. A laser blast sailed past Vere’s head, missing her face by less than a foot. She didn’t even flinch.
“We’ll get out of here. Don’t worry.”
Morgan grabbed both of Vere’s shoulders and yanked her down to the ground.
“I love your optimism, Vere, but you’re driving me insane right now.”
Vere seemed unflustered by this. “Your word isn’t the same as mine.”
“That’s great,” Morgan said. “That’s just wonderful. I’d love to hear all about it later on, after we’re done saving you.”
Unlike the Vere she had known, the Vere in front of her only gave a small smile, then went back to acting supremely confident that they would escape. The Vere she had met in Eastcheap, the one she had convinced to return to Edsall Dark in an attempt to prevent a war, the one who had obsessed over the Excalibur Armada before sacrificing herself for the rest of the kingdom, would have at least had something threatening to say. The Vere that Morgan saw in front of her now looked like she knew something no one else did. There was no fury in her eyes, no panic. Only calm and a sense of purpose.
After the laser blasts were absorbed into the blast-proof plating, Morgan took a deep breath. All around her, she saw containers—each of which held massive amounts of explosives—with the blast-proof coating that was wearing away. Another shot on one of the weakened points and all of the explosives inside would be set off. When that happened, no amount of protective coating would keep the other containers from igniting as well. The entire room, the entire prison and mining colony, would erupt in a series of catastrophic explosions. Every part of the facility would crumble into the lava and become liquid fire in a matter of seconds.
On the far side of the room, another Vonnegan yelped, and she knew Traskk had successfully stalked another victim.
Morgan stood and moved behind one of the giant containers. She pushed as hard as she could, but the metal crate wouldn’t budge.
“Pistol, drop the blaster. I’ve got an idea.”
The android saw what she was trying to do and joined in the attempt. But between the two of them, the container still wouldn’t move even an inch across the metal floor.
“This is never going to work,” she said.
Above them, there were hooks and cables for moving the bins. There was no panel in sight for operating it, however.
“Pistol, find the controls for the pulley system.”
The android nodded and disappeared to the far corner of the room.
Another series of laser blasts began bouncing off all the walls. When Morgan turned around, she saw Vere had picked one of the weapons off the ground and had begun firing it again, the same look of calm on her face. Almost none of her shots went out the open door, though. Most deflected off the walls and began zipping around her and her friends.
“I swear, I used to be a pretty good shot,” Vere said, her brow furrowed.
“Damn it,” Morgan yelled, grabbing Vere’s shoulder. She tore the blaster out of Vere’s hands, tossed it on the ground, then pointed to the metal bin. “I have a task I think suits you a little better.” Pushing Vere toward the container, she said, “Move this.”
Vere looked at the heavy container and frowned. “Come on, I just got done a shift on the lava fields.” When Morgan didn’t smile, she added, “I go away for a while and everyone loses their sense of humor.”
Without another word, she walked up to the container, placed both hands on the metal frame, and pushed. Every muscle in her shoulders, back, and arms bulged as she did so. The metal bin groaned. Slowly, a tiny bit at a time, the container scraped across the ground, leaving a pair of deep scratches in the metal floor. Morgan joined the effort and they began making noticeable progress.
After a minute, the container was halfway toward the hole she had cut into the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blur of a long tail and an enormous frame darting between the rows of containers on the other side of the room, hunting soldiers who had been trying to sneak up to Morgan and her friends.
After another minute of pushing, the container was flush against the wall and covering the hole. Morgan, hunched over and breathing heavily, looked up and saw that Vere wasn’t even sweating.
If anyone was going to try and attack them from that side, they would have to cut a hole through the explosives container and take the chance of destroying themselves and everything around them.
“What now?” Vere asked.
“We do the same thing for the main entrance.” Then, tugging on Vere’s elbow, added, “Come on, we need your muscles.”
Meanwhile, Traskk was waiting at the entrance, just off to the side of the open doorway. Any trooper who wanted to come in and try to capture them would have to get past the Basilisk’s claws, fangs, and tail. None of the Vonnegans were willing to try.
For a second time, Morgan and Vere pushed a container across the floor. Even as they were pushing, Morgan had to admit that Vere was doing most of the work.
Once the door was blocked, Traskk gave a soft growl.
Pistol was approaching with a handheld device in his palm. The android translated, “He says, ‘We’re safe. But now we’re even more trapped than we were before.’”
Morgan had been thinking the same thing. At the rate they were going, they were never going to get out of the room they were stuck in, let alone get off the planet.
26
Vere was aware of everything that was going on around her. She also knew the importance of getting off Terror-Dhome. And yet there was no urgency in the chaos around her. After having survived the worst aspects of the Cauldrons of Dagda, after learning all of the insights that had been taught to her by Mortimous, she was sure everything would work out for the best.
In one of her most recent conversations with the old sage, the two of them had discussed each part of her life. Why she had fled Edsall Dark and gone to Eastcheap. Why she had accepted the Green Knight’s challenge without considering its possible repercussions. Why she had set her hopes on a mythical armada of ships to save her kingdom.
“I’ve made so many mistakes,” she had said. “My entire life is one dumb decision after another.”
“Without those mistakes, would you be here?”
She didn’t take offense at the question because she knew that when he said here he meant the void in which she met with him and not the Cauldrons of Dagda where her physical body was.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “No.”
The sound of amusement came back to his voice. “How can they be mistakes then?”
“I just wish I’d done things differently.”
Looking back on every part of her life, she got the feeling that even as key events had played out, she had merely witnessed them rather than actually been a part of them.
“All that means,” Mortimous said, as if able to read her thoughts, “is that you are a far different person than the one who did those things.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Vere had asked with a frown.
At the time this conversation had been taking place, her physical body had still been pushing the Circle of Sorrow. A blister the size of a large coin had ripped open on her hand but she didn’t notice. Nor had she noticed the eight-legged alien prisoner who collapsed only feet away from her, exhausted from the intense heat and the grueling work.
Mortimous had smiled and told her that she would have threatened to kill him years earlier. Now, she wanted to understand what he had to say. In that regard, she had changed for the better.
Looking back on the conversation, Vere thought of something she wanted to tell him. Instead of focusing her mind and having Mortimous appear in front of her, however, she knew she had to remain in the present and help her friends get away from this lava planet and from Mowbray’s
forces.
27
Quickly looked up at the pair of Athens Destroyers hovering over the planet and at the swarm of Thunderbolts all around him before telling Cade that they were running out of options.
The response was immediate and more than a little panicked: “What does that mean? What am I supposed to do? Should I power the ship up and help you out?”
Quickly tried to think about what he would do if he were in Cade’s position. At least Quickly was able to face his attackers and take some of them with him. At least he could maneuver the Griffin Fire away from one enemy or toward another, depending on which offered the least amount of danger. Cade, on the other hand, was stuck inside a stationary vessel without many options.
There was only one thing he could think of. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have mentioned it. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
“You’re going to have to break into one of the other ships parked on the spaceport.”
“What?” Cade yelled, fear taking the place of rational thought.
Quickly closed his eyes for a second, trying to remain calm. He was losing Cade to the chaos of the situation. He knew he had to be strong and confident in the hope that some of it would rub off on his friend.
“You’ll have to—”
A dozen laser blasts streaked past the Griffin Fire, momentarily distracting him.
Groups of four Thunderbolts were at every position around him. He slowed the ship down and threw the controls forward. The Griffin Fire came about in a sharp U-turn and then accelerated again. He fired into the group of approaching Thunderbolts, destroying two and forcing the other two to swerve in opposite directions. But still he was surrounded by Thunderbolts everywhere he looked.
“Listen, Cade. Breathe and relax. Everything will be okay.”
“I am breathing, but I won’t be much longer if we don’t get out—”
“Listen,” Quickly said, cutting him off. “All we can do is give them more time. To do that, we need to keep our wits about us, okay?” When he didn’t get a reply, he said again, “Okay?”
The Round Table (Space Lore Book 3) Page 9
