“What’s wrong?”
“Not all of these have the red button glowing. Maybe they’re not charged.”
“Or the charge ran out? How much action are these babies good for?”
“No one alive on this planet can tell us, not even Bithia, I’m guessing.” Nate tried one of the weapons whose button was dull, aiming at a pink circular barrel across the room at the edge of the light. Sure enough, pressing the “trigger” produced no result. He tossed the depleted weapon into the box with a spacer’s curse. “Sort the good ones out, see what firepower we do have.”
It took a depressingly short amount of time. From a cache of twenty, only three had the brightly glowing button. Several others had trigger symbols that only flickered. Nate set them firmly aside. “Not worth the trouble to carry. They’d probably fail us at the worst possible moment. “
“No sign of whatever recharges the action either.” Thom checked through the pile one more time for anything he might have missed.
“We’ve spent enough time on this and had all the luck we’re going to get, you agree?”
“I’m ready to get out of here.” Thom latched the holster belt at his waist and adjusted the fit so the weapon was close at hand.
Nate handed Thom the other active weapon. “You take the extra, since I have to manage the red box.”
He walked toward the elevator, Thom following close on his heels, staring around. He estimated they’d managed to do a cursory survey of perhaps one-tenth of the total floor space of the warehouse.
“What a waste. All these artifacts and one remaining survivor, no less, who could tell us what each and every thing is, or does, and we don’t have the time to explore,” Nate said as they headed for the platform. “I know of Sectors archaeologists who’ve made entire careers out of analysis on one shard of a broken symbol.”
“Plenty of experts and treasure hunters would kill to be here, all right, genuine Ancient Observer installation or not. Place is old enough to be intriguing to those guys,” Thom said cheerfully. “I’ll kill to get out of here, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I’m with you all the way, my friend. Never was tempted to join the Archaeology Service, and I’m not enlisting now either.”
“What are we going to do with the sleepers?” Thom asked as he stood at the lip of the elevator and watched the four men, all of whom lay as if dead. The sergeant hunkered down to rapidly check pulses. “Still breathing, more’s the pity.”
Nate considered his options. “Tempting as it might be to leave Sarbordon here to his proper fate, I can’t do it. Can’t leave even a sadistic bully like him to die of starvation in a coma.”
“No argument from me. Did Bithia say how long the sleep effect lasts, once the locals are removed from the storehouse?”
Nate shook his head. “Never occurred to me to ask. I’m not sure I believed in the knockout device. We need to find something to tie them up with before we go back to the surface. The men waiting outside should be fairly easy to ambush. Certainly no one’s expecting any trouble from us.”
“We left two more guards, five drivers and the two priestesses up there.” Thom reviewed the numbers rapidly. “Kinda heavy odds, even with these nice new toys we acquired. Atletl and Celixia are in an exposed position, situational awareness unknown but I’d bet they’re engrossed in each other. Can’t count on them to be combat ready.” He frowned. “One soldier escapes and makes it back to the city to sound the alert, there goes our chance of reaching your lady.”
“I don’t disagree. Suggestions?”
“Go by yourself, tell them the big boss needs more help to collect all the goodies. We get as many of them down here as you can convince.”
Nate considered. “So far I like it. What’s the next play?”
“We dress ourselves like the guards, take a few choice parcels to the surface as lures for the priestesses and any other hangers-on. When they come to get a better look and are distracted, we overpower them. Tie up the whole bunch on the surface, then bring these guys up. I’m sure you’re not planning on leaving anyone down here to starve to death while unconscious.”
“Right, goes against the grain to do tat, even to a bastard like Sarbordon. Then I close the cache entryway, we steal a chariot, set the rest of the animals loose to delay pursuit and head back to the palace for Bithia.” Nate nodded. “Efficient. Works for me. Excellent staff work, sergeant.”
“I know you like the plan clearly laid out one step at a time.”
Dragging the unconscious men off the platform took a few moments. Nate stepped inside the lift and paused, checking with Thom, already hard at work stripping the helmet and armor off the first guard. “You okay staying here?”
“Sure.” The sergeant waved one arm at the storeroom. “Got all the comforts of home here. Someone’s home anyway. Let’s get this action under way.”
Nate activated the symbol and counted slowly to himself as the platform ascended with stately grace. It took two full Terra standard minutes to reach the surface. He triggered the exterior door and found himself facing those left behind, crowded close to the step. The guards and charioteers fell back as Nate emerged onto the platform. Hands on sword, several men peered intently behind him, obviously surprised he was alone.
Good call on Thom’s part for me to ascend by myself. If we’d both come without escort, the enemy would have been on the alert. Hopefully they won’t recognize this alien device on my belt as a weapon. Shooting anyone was his last resort. He liked a fair fight, and the total destruction created by the sleek black Mark One blaster, as Thom had nicknamed the gun, was excessive against swords and belt knives.
“Sarbordon commanded me to fetch more help,” Nate said immediately, not giving anyone time to ask awkward questions. He pointed at the guards. “You and you, now!” As the men stumbled to join him, Nate crooked a finger at the nearest driver. “You too.”
“I need to stay with the animals.” Another man retreated a few steps before Nate could tag him for the subterranean detail. “And guard the priestesses.”
“Right, you two stay.” Nate kept his tone amiable, not liking the slightly suspicious tone the man had. “Atletl!”
“Lord?” His teammate came front and center, pushing past the driver who’d been reluctant to accept Nate’s orders.
“Be ready to depart when we return to the surface,” Nate said, hoping Atletl would take the hint and be prepared for action next time the door opened.
“Wait.” One of the Huitlani priestesses shook her head imperiously and made as if to step through the door.
“No females!” Nate slammed his hand on the activating symbol, and she barely avoided the instantaneously closing door.
He maintained an easy chatter during the descent, remarking about the magical, wondrous weapons and other things the king was now going to command. His nervous audience listened avidly, succumbing to the induced coma as suddenly as the first set of Talonqueni had when the door opened.
Nate gaped at Thom, now resplendent in the uniform of the palace guards, complete with green tunic, leather breastplate, short black-and-green-striped kilt, black cloak, sword and anachronistic blasters on both hips. “Nice feathers.” Nate flicked the cluster of greenish-black chingaza plumage adorning the helmet.
Raising his bushy red eyebrows, Thom fingered his clothing and grimaced. “Good thing it’s dark out, or I wouldn’t fool anyone who took a second glance.”
“Where’s mine?”
“Right there.” Thom pointed to a heap of clothes. “I’ve picked out a few sexy, colorful boxes and bins with unusual shapes for us to pile into the lift, guaranteed to distract even the damn priestesses for at least a moment.”
“Good work. Drag my latest victims off the platform, would you, while I change? And then I’ll help load the bait.”
Nate stripped rapidly and donned his Talonque palace guard’s uniform. “Bit breezy, this kilt thing.”
“Wrap yourself in the cloak, plenty of
fabric there, thank goodness.”
Nate set the helmet on his head and fastened the chin straps. “Glad we serve in a modern military.”
“Helmet buys us time, since it obscures the face, which is the only good thing I can say about it. Weighs too much, no real protection and screws up your peripheral vision.”
Nate checked the small pile of items Thom had stacked on the platform, verifying the precious red box was off to the side where no one could grab it. He and Thom took their positions and made the slow ascent to carry out their ambush.
Although the strategy started well, the fight wasn’t quite as smooth and simple as Nate hoped. When the door opened at his command, he and Thom carried the bait packages out, trying to keep their faces hidden from the waiting priestesses and drivers. The two women reached for the same glittering small box, each tugging on her side and berating the other loudly. The drivers stood by, trying not to laugh too obviously at the greedy spat. Nate and Thom descended the steps again, carrying a large box this time, and moved toward the group.
At a prearranged hand signal from Nate, they dropped the container, each targeting a different driver. Nate knocked his man out with a quick uppercut, but Thom’s victim was only dazed. He staggered toward the chariots, Thom in hot pursuit.
The priestesses screamed, attacking Nate before he could move to help Thom subdue the fugitive. Atletl and Celixia launched themselves into the fray, Celixia grabbing one woman by her long, greasy braid and spinning her to the ground. Atletl clamped his hand around the upraised arm of the other, effectively preventing her from stabbing Nate in the back.
“Restrain them with these.” Nate threw a handful of cloth strips to Atletl before he sprinted after Thom.
Thom and the driver were struggling at the horse line. As Nate got closer, Thom stabbed the driver in the neck, allowing him to collapse to the ground, spooking the nearest kemat.
Another chariot had arrived while Nate was below in the cache, and now the vehicle’s driver whipped his team of kemat, trying to escape.
“Stop or die!” Nate yelled urgently.
The man redoubled his efforts.
Reluctantly, Nate raised his Mark One and fired.
The driver became a lump of steaming black bones covered in greasy ash, and the upper half of the chariot was burned away. The kemat on the traces screamed in panic, trying to drag the remnants of the vehicle. Nate slammed the weapon into the holster and ran to calm the animals without getting kicked or bitten. He released the simple mechanism holding the team to the chariot, wrestled the kemat to the line and knotted the reins securely.
Atletl and Celixia had finished binding the priestesses hand and foot and were now working on the man Nate had knocked out.
“Situation under control,” Thom said. “Shall I let stampede the extra kemat?”
“Not yet. I don’t think we have much time to waste, but we don’t need stray horses, kemat, whatever these animals are, going back to the barn prematurely. Let’s retrieve Sarbordon and his sleeping pals from the storeroom first.”
“Good idea.”
Thom and Nate walked across the rutted ground of the plateau to the base of the pyramid. Eyes wide, huge smile on her face, Celixia clutched the scorched red box. “You found it!”
Atletl eyed them cautiously. “Truly, now you wield the powers of the god. You blasted the driver and his chariot with a wave of the hand, and both were as nothing.”
“Not a miracle, friend, merely a weapon. A potent weapon, I’ll grant you.” Nate showed Celixia and Atletl the Mark One. “We found these in Fr’taray’s storehouse.”
“One of the things the king sought most was the power to wield fire and death from a distance,” Celixia said. “He was obsessed with obtaining that ability in particular.”
“I thought all the legends about Fr’taray’s people spoke of them as being peaceful?” Nate questioned the differing stories. “Bithia certainly didn’t think her expedition had any weapons.”
The priestess frowned and shook her head. “There were a few tales indicating otherwise, but the stories didn’t come to us in the direct line of instruction from the first Hialar. I can’t say how truthful any of it may be, after all these centuries.”
“Does it matter?” Thom asked. “Let’s get a move on. You have a sleeping beauty to rescue, yes?”
“What can I do to help?” Atletl was ready for action.
“Can you handle a chariot?” Nate asked.
“Of course. Why?”
“Pick two teams of kemat for us. Stampede the others. As soon as Thom and I bring the rest of the soldiers, drivers and Sarbordon from the storehouse, we’ll be on our way to the palace to rescue Bithia.”
“He isn’t dead?” Eyebrows raised, Atletl sounded both surprised and disappointed.
“Sound asleep,” Nate said. “Fr’taray left a safeguard in his warehouse. I could open the door for him, but neither he nor anyone else from this planet could ever step through to seize the prize.”
“Ironic, ain’t it?” Thom seemed amused by the concept. He pointed at their teammate. “If you’re planning to come with us on the next adventure of the night, change into one of the guard uniforms. I stripped off a spare set for you, in case you planned on enlisting in the cause.”
Frowning, Atletl drew himself to his full height. “I’m a warrior of my people, sworn to fight Sarbordon and the god he serves until my dying breath. Let there be no doubt.”
Nate was amused by the way Celixia was lost in total admiration of the young warrior’s eloquence, her brown eyes fixed on his handsome face, her lips parted slightly. Nate exchanged an amused glance with Thom and moved off to the pyramid to finish his set of tasks.
He was impatient to be gone, back to the palace and Bithia. Events were going his way now, but Nate didn’t trust the good luck to last.
It never did, in his experience.
CHAPTER SIX
He commandeered only one chariot, because Atletl was the sole person with the ability to drive a team of nearly wild kemat. Nate and Thom had to admit their skills as drivers extended only to mechanical transportation. Nate didn’t want to risk a first attempt at working with living propulsion units at night, driving down a steep grade in a wooden chariot. The extra transport wasn’t needed, he decided.
The road descending from the plateau was deserted, and they made good time. Atletl had to lean on the primitive brakes to keep the chariot from overrunning the kemat on the final set of curves. Then he had to wait a few moments before inserting the vehicle into the traffic on the main thoroughfare into the city.
“What the seven hells is going on?” Nate watched people streaming in both directions on foot, on the backs of kemat, piled onto carts and in chariots. The moonlight dimmed and brightened as clouds scudded across the sky, but it was clear enough to see a massive and impromptu evacuation was occurring. “The city always this busy at night, Celixia?”
“Not at all. I can’t imagine—”
A squadron of soldiers galloped by, going away from the palace at high speed. Nate and Thom ducked their heads as much as possible to hide their faces, but the troop seemed preoccupied with whatever urgent mission had sent them patrolling, which apparently didn’t include searching for escaped prisoners.
“Something’s certainly happening,” Thom said, watching the riders gallop away.
“Nighttime sacrifices?” Nate asked.
“Not at this season.” Celixia shook her head and examined the crowds, openmouthed.
“Whatever has the citizenry and the army distracted works in our favor,” Nate said. He was optimistic about the whole plan, particularly with the alien weapons to back their play.
“We may have trouble getting through the gates to the palace compound.” Thom’s reminder impinged on Nate’s good mood. “The city feels like a siege or attack is imminent. The guards may be extra alert tonight.”
“The Githholz might be behind the upheaval,” Celixia said. “I’d heard earlier toda
y their army was on the march, but no one expected them to arrive in the lowlands much before the second spring planting.”
Atletl laughed, even as he yanked the team to the side to avoid a lopsided cart with a broken wheel and the bundles of goods falling onto the road.
“Your foolish rulers consistently underestimate us—as if we couldn’t fight our way to Nochen before the first planting.”
“Sarbordon’s troops captured you,” she said. “Who was underestimating who?”
“An intervention of fate.” Waving a hand to indicate he took no offense at her remark, Atletl was magnanimous. “Obviously, I was destined to play a part in all the miraculous events and the remaining efforts to free T’naritza.”
“She prefers to go by her real name, if you don’t mind.” The time was right to set a few things straight. He didn’t want Atletl working with them under false pretenses. Neither he nor Thom was going to claim shreds of divinity, not that he ever had, except for allowing their enemies to think they were warriors of Fr’taray. The locals had declared Bithia’s father worthy to be a god, not Nate. He suspected Bithia would refuse to represent herself as a goddess once she was free of the device and her life no longer depended on the charade.
“Real name?” Atletl was puzzled. “Is she not the daughter of Fr’taray, then?”
“Yes, but her name is Bithia.”
The Githholz warrior looked to Celixia, who nodded confirmation.
“Too much for me.” Atletl flicked the ear of the left leader with the whip to keep the animal from veering to the side of the road as another troop of cavalry rode straight at them. “The games of the gods are above my head. I know my people fight to root out the evil worship of Huitlani. We despise all the blood and death and tribute he demands.”
“We’re on the same side,” Nate said, watching these new mounted soldiers pass them by without pausing.
Atletl managed to keep his team trotting at a steady pace. Nate admired the man’s skill and nerve and thanked the Lords of Space again for getting the warrior entangled in the enemy’s net with him and Thom.
Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) Page 13
