Deathsport

by William Hughes

  Ankar Moor had been lost in thought for a long time and, at last, Polna presumed himself dismissed. But as he started to turn away, his leader said, “We must be just about half a day’s ride from Triton by these machines. That is clearly where they will be heading.”

  Polna shook his head.

  “If it is, they sure picked a strange way to get there.”

  Ankar Moor disagreed.

  “No. They knew that we could catch them up and destroy them on the plain. Their only chance was to dodge us in the mountains. They understood that. Kaz Oshay is a worthy opponent.”

  There was another silence between the two men. It was Ankar Moor who broke it once more.

  “Those caves in the canyon. There is something about them. Something that flashed to me when they were near them. They will go back to them before they go to Triton.”

  “But you just said they were on their way there.”

  Ankar Moor held up his hand.

  “I am no longer of the Guides, but I know their ways. The consciousness still touches me. They will go back up that valley. We must make our ambush for them there in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Another silence, then the big man swore.

  “Damn. If I thought that we could find them tonight I would risk the chance of an attack by the Mutants!”

  Polna, who did not have quite the self-confidence in his own survival as his master, shuddered at the thought and hoped that Ankar Moor had not noticed it. There was another silence as the Obedience Enforcer leader stared up at the sky once more, then down into the fire. Polna breathed a sigh of relief as he said, “We had better keep it bright all night.”

  Relieved, he turned away.

  “I will see to it.”

  He left Ankar Moor alone, staring out into the darkness and planning his vengeance for the morrow.

  Kaz Oshay and Deneer sat at opposite ends of their mattress, staring into each other’s eyes. There was no sound in the room other than the hiss of the lamp they had taken. For the moment their eyes were locked and their minds were touching and caressing one another. At last, Deneer spoke in a soft voice:

  “Be grateful for every moment there is between us, for we must remember these moments. They may never come back to us once we have moved past them and gone on.”

  Kaz whispered, “You speak truly, woman.”

  They rose and moved close to one another. Their arms reached out and they entwined, the physical contact relaxing and, at the same time, exciting both of them.

  After a while, they broke away from each other and, with gentle fingers, each one began to undress the other until they stood facing one another, each admiring the body of the other.

  Slowly they sank down on the mattress, their bodies pressing close together, the warmth of their feelings passing between them. Kaz rolled over until he was atop Deneer and she stretched herself out beneath him, arching her back in welcome to him.

  “I want you, Kaz Oshay . . . I want you.”

  He whispered his answer in kind:

  “And I you, Deneer . . . and I you . . .”

  After that they did not speak again. They had no need of words, for, just as their souls were one in the power of the consciousness, so too did their bodies become one in the power of ecstasy.

  Both would have had all the alertness of the Guides, had their powers been called upon, but danger was not near. Instead they were able to concentrate their minds on the fulfilment of the needs of their bodies. The moment for which both of them had roamed the wastelands alone all of their lives had come to them.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ankar Moor had picked the point of ambush well. Even Polna had to admit that to himself. The only question was, would the fugitives come across the plain and up the valley to the place he had chosen, or would they have found some other route to their destination.

  The Enforcer guards had set out with the coming of the dawn. There had been no sign of the Mutants during the night and most of them had slept soundly and were ready to face the vicissitudes of another day, driven on more by the power for revenge of their leader than by their own strength and determination.

  The sun was only just over the horizon, but already the ground was cracking in the heat. In the distance, even Polna could see the heat shimmering on the dry bed of the lake that had once been across the plain.

  Ankar Moor and three of the men were on one side of a hilltop overlooking the ambush point, out of sight to anyone coming across the plain from the twin valleys. He glanced down into the pass in the hills and at the ravine that ran across it, partially blocking it. Polna and the other three men were hidden in this ravine with their machines, waiting for his signal.

  For an hour, the sun rose higher and the temperature of the ground and air with it. Ankar Moor scanned the horizon with his special field binoculars but so far he could see no movement, detect no sign of the fugitives.

  Then he saw them. Just the glint of their machines on the horizon at first, then they sprang into prominence against the background of the dry lake bed as they started to roar across it in line, abreast, close together.

  Only now did he transmit the information to Polna.

  “Just as I thought. They are riding straight towards the pass. Don’t make a move until I tell you.”

  Polna and his men got the order over the microphones in their helmets and they waited impatiently on their silent machines.

  Unaware of the enemies who lay in wait for them, Kaz, Deneer, Doctor Karl and Marcus made a race of speeding across the lake. They were all refreshed after their night’s sleep and faced the ordeals of the day with a renewed spirit.

  Marcus fell back a bit and observed his father’s antics on the Death Machine with a boyish smile. At last, he called:

  “Hey, dad!”

  Doctor Karl glanced over his shoulder:

  “Yes?”

  “If anyone had ever told me I’d live to see my old man riding something like this machine across the desert when he was fifty years old, I’d have told them they were crazy.”

  Doctor Karl smiled vaguely. He had not really heard the words that had been shouted at him.

  “What was that?”

  Marcus moved closer.

  “Nothing! I was just saying that I think you’re great.”

  That his father did hear and he smiled affectionate appreciation before going into a series of manoeuvres, zig-zagging his machine to show how adept he had become at handling it. This showing off nearly ended with him sliding into the side of Deneer’s machine and the girl took evasive action before shouting: “Watch out, Doctor! We will have enough trouble with our enemies, without you going wild.”

  The remark was made in the same mood that affected all four, but it did have the effect of reminding them that there might be threats to be faced ahead of them for which they must be prepared. Kaz had kept out of the general horseplay. Now he looked up at the sky and stiffened in the saddle. Deneer frowned at him and asked: “What is it?”

  He said anxiously, “We must reach the sandstone cliffs quickly and get to the caves.”

  “Why?”

  “The Flash Wind. It is bearing down on us.”

  Now Deneer put out all her antennae and she too got the feeling of the wind in the air.

  “Yes, now I feel it too. The Flash Wind is coming faster than you said it would.”

  Kaz smiled at her. He knew her teasing ways and was no longer offended when she poked this sort of fun at him.

  “No one is perfect. Would you have preferred to wait in the Death Sport arena for the Flash Wind to come?”

  She lowered her eyes and laughed.

  “Only if you had waited with me.”

  They went up the rise that took them out of the open space that had once been a lake and then came to an old road. In the days before the devastation it had been a two lane highway up to a resort area near the lake. It had been well-made because parts of it still retained their tarmac, though nine hu
ndred years of nature and the dreadful Flash Winds had broken up sections of it and returned them to dust. They crossed on a stretch that was still flat and well impacted and Marcus grumbled:

  “Too bad we can’t take a road like this straight in to Triton. We could be there in an hour.”

  His father frowned at him, affectionately:

  “Have patience. They will get us there in good time.”

  Ankar Moor rose from his position, put away his field glasses and straddled his Death Machine. The fugitives were halfway across the distance towards him. It was time to put his plan into effect. He rasped his instructions into the helmet microphone:

  “Block the pass.”

  He started his own machine and appeared over the brow of the hill, slightly in the lead of the three men with him, plunging down the side on to the plain, making straight for the fugitives.

  Below him, Polna glanced round at his men, hidden in the ravine. They started their machines on his signal and then he beckoned the men to move, shouting:

  “Come on. You can’t live forever.”

  As the soldiers had charged from their trenches in the ancient wars, so now did Polna and his men charge up out of the ravine on their screaming machines, fanning out in line abreast to block the pass, Polna in the centre.

  Kaz spotted the movements up on the hillside at once and zoomed his machine close to Deneer’s.

  “They are ahead of us. They are blocking the pass.”

  Deneer nodded.

  “I see them.”

  All four of the fugitives grouped together and slowed down their machines but, taking their cue from Kaz, they did not stop altogether. After a short run forward, Deneer said, in a voice that had slowly filled with an unwonted tension, “We must draw them out.”

  Kaz pointed.

  “They have split. Some of them are coming to us, others are blocking the pass. We need more guile than that.”

  Doctor Karl and Marcus glanced at each other, neither of them having an idea in their minds as to how they were to avoid death this time. It seemed that the odds were too great and Kaz Oshay was leading them merely into a confrontation that would end in their deaths.

  Kaz turned to them.

  “We will go forward to deal with the men who charge us. You hold back and then head for the pass when you see us go.”

  The Karls obeyed their orders and started falling back at once. Kaz smiled at Deneer: “Divide and conquer.”

  They faced front again, then, from deep within them, came the great whoop of their war cry and they throttled back their machines and charged off in the direction of Ankar Moor and his charging guards, across the desert wasteland.

  Ankar Moor threw back his head in triumphant exhilaration as they came forward at him. Now he would have the vengeance that he had waited for so long. He shouted into his microphone:

  “Split and attack from the flanks.”

  With one of his three fellow guards he swung away to the east side of the plain, the other two men veering off from the straight line to the west. Kaz Oshay and Deneer did not split: instead they took the track that would bring them straight at the two men who had gone to the west flank.

  They throttled back still further until they were both going at top speed. A collision seemed to be inevitable. Soon all four of the charging machines would be within blaster firing range. As Marcus and Doctor Karl watched, they held their breath and prayed.

  Just as it seemed that the end was inevitable, the two Guides roared their machines up a mound in the same second and, flying through the air, they sailed over the heads of the two alarmed Enforcers. As they landed, both of them fired their rear blaster pods in unison and Ankar Moor lost two of his best men in a flash of green, their screams hanging in the air as they were consigned to oblivion.

  Marcus looked at his father.

  “You were right. They are special.”

  “Let us thank God for it.”

  Kaz and Deneer turned their machines and he shouted over at her:

  “Nicely done, woman!”

  “Nicely done, man!”

  Now Kaz raised his arm and waved, the signal for Marcus and his father to follow them.

  Marcus throttled back his machine:

  “Come on, dad.”

  “I’m coming.” He too throttled back his machine and bumped over the open ground a little behind his son.

  Ankar Moor and his remaining fighter made a broad sweeping turn and the big man shouted into his microphone: “Hold your positions! You mustn’t let them through.”

  Polna acknowledged the order and told his men to stay exactly where they were, ranged across the mouth of the canyon, just ahead of the ravine:

  “Hold it, stay where you are. You’re not to move unless and until I give you a specific order.”

  However nervous his men were feeling after witnessing the annihilation of their fellows, they did their best to give no sign of it and waved acknowledgement to Polna.

  Ankar Moor and the other man were doing their best to get back to the mouth of the canyon, but the big man knew that he would never make it in time. Once more, Kaz Oshay had tricked him.

  Kaz glanced round. Deneer was right on his tail and the other two machines were catching up rapidly, falling into line. If there was any problem, it was Doctor Karl. He was not so used to his machine, an older man, therefore perhaps a little slower. He was hanging back from the others, a wider gap between him and the rest of the group.

  Kaz pointed towards the pass.

  “Follow me.”

  He immediately swung his machine to one side, putting up a cloud of dust between him and the Enforcers holding the shaky line. The others followed suit as they reached the spot, then saw him charge through the cloud that had been raised, up one side of the pass and at the man on the end of the line at the upper edge of the ravine.

  Polna reacted and swung into action, shouting at the other two guards:

  “Get them! We can’t let them through.”

  Kaz led the pack of fugitives straight at the hapless Enforcer, balanced on his machine at the lip of the ravine. The man was frozen in terror. Then unfroze for long enough to consider his position and decide that the wisest thing he could do at that moment would be to desert his post.

  Turning quickly, he tried to get his machine round and tried to plunge it down into the ravine, but he was too late. Kaz pressed the button on his forward pods and the machine and man disintegrated together. Immediately, Kaz aimed his machine at the lip of the ravine, hit it at full speed and, lifting the nose of the great machine into the air, he flew up and across the ravine.

  As he hit the far side and began to roar up the pass, Deneer passed immediately over the spot he had used and she too lifted the nose of her cycle in the air and made the leap.

  It was Marcus’s turn next. Polna and the others had got their machines turned and were racing to close the gap. Polna had Ankar Moor’s screams of angry encouragement in his ears:

  “Destroy them! They must not pass!”

  Marcus reached the lip of the ravine, tried to copy the movements of the two Guides and found himself sailing through the air. He almost lost control as he hit the other side, wobbled for a moment, then roared off after them up the pass.

  Doctor Karl was lagging just a little way behind. He throttled back as hard as he dared, but Polna and the others were closing the gap too fast for comfort.

  The doctor roared up the path and hit the mound only a yard ahead of his nearest pursuer. He hit the mound and took to the air. At the last moment he remembered his rear blaster pods and pressed the button. In the same second, the Enforcer fired his forward pods as he left the ground. Both men disappeared in a green flash of anti-matter without touching the ground again.

  Kaz was glancing back and saw the explosion that obliterated Doctor Karl, then noticed Marcus speeding forward, not turning, unaware that his father had died. He made no signal, but faced the front again and roared on, the other two survivors in his wak
e.

  Ankar Moor flew at the mound at top speed, hit the lip and leapt the ravine before coming to an angry halt on the far side. He raised his helmet and turned his leather-clad face back to scream at Polna:

  “It’s all your fault. You let them get through the line. I told you to hold your positions. Why didn’t you obey me?”

  “They rushed us.”

  “Don’t argue with me. We must give chase at once.” He gunned his machine and shot off up the pass in pursuit of the disappearing fugitives. Wearily, Polna turned to the remaining two men.

  “O.K., after me.” They revved their machines to take the jump across the ravine and join in the pursuit once more.

  Still unaware that his father had been killed, Marcus Karl sped after Kaz Oshay and Deneer out of the top of the pass and into the broken ground beyond that would lead them back to the canyon of the sandstone caves.

  Kaz, feeling that they were far enough ahead of their pursuers to allow for a little relaxation, brought his machine to a halt and Deneer and Marcus slid to a stop alongside him. Marcus glanced round and realised that his father was not with them. He glanced back and Deneer said softly:

  “I am sorry.”

  Marcus could not take it in.

  “Where’s my father?”

  Kaz said quietly, “He died bravely.”

  “What?”

  Deneer reached across and tried to touch Marcus on the arm, but, with the sudden onset of grief, he pushed the comforting hand away:

  “He took one of them with him when he died.”

  It sank in at last, Marcus started to turn his machine, to rush back and avenge his father’s death:

  “Those bastards.”

  Kaz jumped from his huge cycle, propped it up and rushed round to grab the grief-stricken youth:

  “Stop. You cannot attack them by yourself.”

  Marcus’s eyes were blinded by tears. He was in no condition to take good advice from anyone. Instead, he tried to shake off Kaz’s firm grip, crying out as he did so: