Deathsport

by William Hughes

  Coolly, under complete control, his hatred seething but not unleashed, Ankar Moor reached down and grabbed Zirpola by the collar of his emerald cloak, pulling him eyeball to bulging watery blue eyeball:

  “You worthless animal. Never, never speak to me like that.”

  He hurled the Ruler of Helix from him, so that Zirpola crashed in a heap on the ground. For a moment it looked as if Ankar Moor would put his foot on him to squash him like a bug, but he scuttled away across the floor, to cower by his chair.

  When Ankar Moor spoke again his voice was quiet, but each word sounded as if it had been cast in steel.

  “I will go after Kaz Oshay and the others because it pleases me to do so. And I will see them all destroyed because I am Ankar Moor and I wish to see them destroyed.”

  With that he leaned forward and grabbed the ruler of Helix by the collar once more. He lifted him up so that the man was choking, gasping for breath, then threw him down into his chair. “You own me no longer. I do not follow the code but in this one respect: I am my own master.”

  With that, he strode away from the Lord of Helix, then made his way to the nearest staircase, which, with the elevators out of action, would get him to a Death Machine and in pursuit of his enemies as soon as possible.

  Zirpola was very still for a moment, until he was quite sure that his former fellow-plotter was gone. Then he struggled to his feet again. The only people available to feel his anger now were the four girls, one of them already marked by him, and the television crew. He rose and moved towards the girls, who backed away from him, afraid for their lives.

  He got only two paces forward before the tissues in his brain ruptured and exploded, throwing him to the ground. He was dead before his body was laid out before them.

  Kaz Oshay smiled round at his companions. They were well out of the City now and far ahead of their pursuers. Helix City was just a spot on the horizon, the sun shining on its domes.

  Marcus Karl moved his machine closer to the Range Guide, so that he was able to shout across at Kaz:

  “We must get to Triton. We must warn them about the Lord Zirpola’s plans for war.”

  But Kaz Oshay shook his head and turned to Deneer.

  “We must first look after our own. You will lead, Deneer. Tell me where the child was lost.”

  Deneer nodded, pleased, but she understood Marcus’s fears and smiled at him: “The place is by the sandstone cliffs on the route to Triton. We will try to rescue Karissa, then go on to the City.”

  And with that the Karls, for the moment, had to be content.

  CHAPTER NINE

  By the late afternoon, the City of Helix and the nightmare of the events of the past night and day had been left far behind. As he rode along at the side of his father, Marcus Karl began to recognise some of the landmarks it had taken almost a day to reach when he had originally been travelling the same trail by caravan, on his journey to Triton for his wedding. He was happier to think of this now. There was a chance he would still be in Triton in time for the wedding, perhaps even ahead of the time he had originally been expected. In the meantime, he could only pray that they would not be able to find the tribe of Mutants who had taken the Guide girl, Karissa. For, like all Statemen, he was frightened of the Mutants and did not dare to meet these misshapen men, with their sharp teeth and poisoned glands, in open combat.

  It seemed that they held no fears either for Kaz Oshay or Deneer and when Marcus had indicated to his father that he would protest again about going after one little child when there was a whole City to save, his father had advised him against it:

  “They have a law in their code. They take care of their own first. Respect that, they are still our best chance of getting away to Triton. Even with these machines, we could not make it on our own.”

  “But they are so fast.”

  His father nodded.

  “But how would you survive the nights, when the Mutants are abroad?”

  Marcus had agreed. His father had a point. So he had maintained his silence since the first protest he had made, when they were escaping from the Death Sport arena.

  The shadows were lengthening as they came over the brow of a rise and started down towards the canyon that went past the great sandstone cliffs where the Enforcers had attacked, and Karissa, the daughter of the destroyed Guide Adriann, had been lost to them.

  Kaz turned to Deneer: “Whereabouts was the child lost?”

  Deneer pointed a long way ahead.

  “Over there, by the sand cliffs. Where my group was attacked.”

  Kaz Oshay was gently reassuring.

  “We have Union. We will find her.”

  Marcus could contain himself no longer.

  “Please. They will still be chasing us. We must press on and warn Triton, so that they can arm themselves for protection.”

  Kaz was calm. He did not wish to hurt the young Stateman, but he would perhaps never understand the attitude of the Guides. His world was not theirs.

  “You go to Triton if you want, Stateman. You are free to do as you please now.”

  Marcus slapped his hand to his forehead. “But don’t you understand?”

  “I understand your anxiety. Please understand ours.”

  But Marcus was too anxious to listen:

  “Don’t you understand? There’s going to be a war. Thousands of people may lose their lives. We have to warn Triton and stop it happening if we can get there in time.”

  Deneer tried to explain again:

  “Our first responsibility is to our own kind, Stateman. It is the way of the code.”

  “But this is important to the whole world.”

  Kaz sighed. His patience was running out. Anyway this pause in their flight might give Ankar Moor and his men a chance to catch up with them. “If it is so important to you, then you go on alone.”

  Marcus snorted: “You know I can’t. I’d never get there alive. But if you took us, we’d be in Triton tomorrow night.”

  Now Kaz Oshay glared at him.

  “Not even a fool travels the wastes at night.”

  Marcus was beside himself.

  “Why can’t you see how important it is?”

  Doctor Karl thought it was time he took a hand in the conversation. Marcus was over anxious and all he was succeeding in doing was making angry the only two people who could help them.

  “I am sorry. My son is young. The girl he loves lives in Triton. Like you, he is anxious to look after his own kind first. What can you do for us, Kaz Oshay?”

  Kaz Oshay smiled on the man he had come to respect during their night in the cells.

  “You and your son are our friends. You have helped us regain our freedom and keep our lives. We will guide you all the way to Triton after we have found the child—not before.”

  Deneer echoed him.

  “I agree. It is just.”

  “Well I don’t—”

  Marcus’s father glared him into silence and snapped: “Shut up!”

  He turned back to Kaz:

  “That is all we can ask, Kaz Oshay.”

  They were about to re-start their machines when Deneer held up a warning hand.

  “Do you hear it?”

  Neither of the Karls could hear anything, but Kaz Oshay nodded:

  “I hear.” He mounted his machine, started it and, to Marcus’s surprise, started rapidly back the way they had come. He veered off their path and mounted a rise, stopping at the top of it, so he was outlined for them against the falling sun, like some ancient hero of the worlds.

  From where he had stopped his machine, he could see the men making a rolling cloud of dust across the plain. It was the Enforcers, giving chase, and in the lead was Ankar Moor, larger than the others, his silver outfit glinting in the sun as he rode.

  Kaz smiled to himself. Perhaps the time was coming when Ankar Moor would have to respond to the code and fight him alone, animal or not.

  Kaz turned his machine and roared back down to join the others:


  “Ankar Moor. He and his men are behind us. They follow us with ease, for he leads them. They close the gap.”

  All four machines were soon throbbing with power. Kaz said. “There will be danger, we cannot take a direct route to the sandstone cliffs and the caves, for they will follow us too easily.” And with that he led off up the side of the canyon, taking the steep wall with ease.

  To the Statemen, it seemed like an impossible climb, but Deneer calmed their fears:

  “I will follow you. Kaz Oshay is a kind man. He would not lead where you cannot follow.”

  Even so, it came as a surprise to both Marcus and his father when the Death Machines they rode took the slope easily. Deneer followed them and soon they were spread out behind Kaz Oshay, going through rock gaps and gullies, weaving through the rubble and dust of nature.

  Ankar Moor charged across the dusty plain ahead of his most trusted Enforcers. The remaining prisoners and the weaker brethren had been left far behind and the big man was not displeased.

  Polna was close behind him, relieved that his master had not, in fact, wreaked any punishment on him for the events for which he had blamed him. What he did not know was that this was no sign of forgiveness, it was just that, at this moment, he needed the other man’s support as he chased after Kaz Oshay and the others, bent on his revenge. All thoughts of world conquest were pushed out of his mind by the needs of his colossal vanity for vengeance and retribution.

  With the two of them were only six other men, the best armed, both physically and mentally, of the guards of Helix. All were equipped with helmet microphones and as Ankar Moor observed Kaz Oshay on the horizon and knew he was on the right track, and gaining on his enemy, he rasped to the other men who followed him:

  “If any of you should falter, you will be left behind. You have been warned.”

  Polna answered, in an effort to make sure that his status was assured beyond the chase:

  “We will not falter, Ankar Moor.”

  “So be it,” rasped their leader, revving his machine and pushing it forward as the figure of Kaz Oshay disappeared from view.

  The sun was low in the sky by the time Deneer felt that they were once more travelling in the right direction, making a wide sweep through the mountains that would bring them back to the sandstone caves and a chance to find Karissa.

  Marcus and Doctor Karl were relieved, too, that there would soon be an end to what had turned into more of an exercise in mountaineering than anything else. The going had been tortuous and frightening for all of them, but they had laid a false trail that Ankar Moor, with constant pauses for the following of their tracks, would find it even more difficult to trace.

  At last they arrived at a point where they overlooked the central part of the canyon where the sandstone caves were placed. One moment it seemed that Kaz Oshay was climbing up the side of a mountain: the next he had braked hard on the summit.

  The others joined him and the two Statemen gulped as they looked at the almost sheer drop on the other side, right to the bottom of the canyon, immediately facing the caves.

  Marcus said: “You don’t mean we are going to go down this?”

  Kaz turned to him, his irritation at the young man’s demands completely forgotten.

  “We have no choice.”

  He glanced behind him and the Karls, for the first time, saw something of which Kaz and Deneer had both been aware (because of their acute hearing) as they had dodged their way through the mountains—Ankar Moor, his men strung out behind him, was already near the foot of the mountain they had just scaled with the help of the miraculous machines they had stolen. Now the Karls also knew, that they had no choice and Marcus gave Kaz a grinning nod which indicated that he would make the best of it.

  They all gave one more quick glance at their pursuer as he started up the mountainside after them, then all went forward at once, out into space, leaving their lives in the hands of the various gods they trusted. For the Statemen this was the old God, for Kaz Oshay and Deneer, it was the consciousness.

  Kaz gave a great shout as he led them down, a shout that echoed round the empty canyon. Amazingly, they reached the bottom almost together and charged forward at high speed across the canyon.

  Deneer caught up with Kaz.

  “I know you did not plan that. I thought you knew the way?”

  Kaz, who was not prepared to admit he had made a mistake in front of the two trusting Statemen, grinned at her:

  “That is a well-known short-cut. I have often used it.”

  Deneer laughed.

  “And your horse rolled down at your side. I suppose?”

  Kaz winked at her and joined in her laughter. Marcus had caught one word of the exchange and now said breathlessly:

  “A short-cut to suicide is the best way to describe it.”

  Deneer laughed again. “But you have come through alive.”

  Kaz added: “And remember too, that if you had not, you would have become one with the infinity to which we all already belong.”

  Marcus would have asked more about this last statement, but Kaz Oshay’s attention had already been taken by something else behind him. He stopped his machine and stared back at the vertical side down which they had come. The others followed suit and saw what he had seen.

  Ankar Moor was at the top of the slide. He had stopped his machine, obviously not wishing to descend on his own, and equally obviously not believing that any of his men would follow him. Kaz Oshay knew enough of the man to know that he was no coward, so it was only a sense of unequal danger that had made him pause. They would have time for their mission of rescue, for their pursuers would have to go some distance to find a safe place to get down into the canyon and anyway darkness was nearly on top of them.

  Kaz said quietly to Deneer: “It is too late tonight. We will have to come back tomorrow.”

  “I agree.”

  He restarted his machine and led them off up the canyon, away from the caves once more. They came to a slide area on the canyon wall and Kaz Oshay started up it, the others following behind trustingly. He shouted a loud encouragement: “Darkness will be coming! We must hurry!”

  At the top they found themselves in the head of a shadowed valley. They raced forward into the dusk of the wastelands.

  At the bottom of the valley, there flowed a shallow stream. Marcus sighed: “Thank God. I could use a drink.”

  His father was alarmed.

  “Don’t touch it. The pollution. Everything in the wasteland is poisoned beyond reclaim.”

  Marcus took his father’s advice and merely drove slowly through the water after the others. The rumble of their machines bounced back at them from the narrowing valley walls. Eventually, it became so narrow that they had to go in and out of the stream to move down it. Round a bend, they came to a fork, where two valleys ran on. Kaz abruptly stopped his machine and signalled the others to do the same. They obeyed, then listened to the sudden silence that fell.

  Doctor Karl and his son could hear nothing, but Kaz Oshay turned to Deneer. “They still follow us.”

  Deneer sighed, disappointed, as she too heard the faint sound that was carried to her on the evening breeze.

  “Yes. I thought we had lost them.”

  Marcus shook his head. “That is incredible. I can’t hear a thing.”

  Doctor Karl put a finger to his lips. “Hush. Neither can I.”

  Kaz turned his attention to the two choices of route that were now in front of them.

  “This is not my land.”

  Deneer shook her head.

  “Nor mine.”

  “I am not familiar,” Kaz went on to admit. “But we have a choice to make.”

  “I am not familiar with this place either, but we remain close to the sandstone cliffs and that will be our right direction tomorrow. You lead and choose, we will follow.”

  Kaz nodded and signalled them all to restart their machines.

  “The light leaves us. Let us try on the left.” He poi
nted out the direction and Deneer nodded her agreement.

  The four fugitives started their machines and went up the left fork in the canyon formed by the splitting of the valley. Not knowing the terrain, there was always a risk that they would find themselves in a dead end and would have to retrace their route, with the danger that Ankar Moor and his men would catch up and confront them. Kaz Oshay did not wish to avoid that confrontation if it came, but, until an attempt had been made to find and rescue Karissa, he did not want to be pushed into it.

  The ground began to rise and as it did so they found that they were riding on the remains of an old rutted road that must have been there before the great devastation nine hundred years before. They were relieved, it meant at least that this valley went somewhere, the right choice had been made.

  The road flattened out into a flat, grassy plain, high up and clear of obstruction, allowing more of the dying daylight to get to them, so they were able to accelerate back to high speed again for a while. Kaz turned to Deneer and grinned. “Another one of my short-cuts.”

  She laughed and pulled back the throttle on the Death Machine she was riding, to race him across the grassy plain. Doctor Karl and his son followed more slowly, looking about them. It was the first time in his life that Doctor Karl had seen any growing thing in the open—grass only, it was true, but it was something. It proved that the world was becoming less poisonous if its soil was able to support life again.

  He eventually managed to catch up with Kaz Oshay and Deneer and shouted to them:

  “This grass? Have you seen other places where it grows?”

  Kaz frowned but Deneer leant across and smiled at him.

  “This man is our friend. You can tell him.”

  Kaz said, “I am sorry. We seem to learn that men destroy all they find. Only the Guides are the guardians of the future. Yes, there are places. They are few and it has been difficult, but plants and animals were always preserved and thrive again. Perhaps, one day, they will once more cover the face of the earth.”