Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  As Wallace manoeuvred the nimble boat Topper took aim on the gate.

  ‘I’ve got a clear sight LT.’ He called.

  Atkinson checked the positions of his men to make sure they were all clear of the back blast.

  ‘Shoot!’ He ordered.

  ‘Fire in the hole.’ called Topper. The Rangers ducked away from him and covered their ears. He depressed the trigger.

  With a roar the rocket motor ignited, accelerating the projectile to four hundred and seventy metres per second. It sped upstream, leaving a thick plume of smoke in its wake.

  One of the small group of guards in the turret was turning a polished concave Orichalcum lens to magnify and focus the light of a burning candle towards the boat. Whilst the rest were preparing bows one of them looked out of the small archery port. He leant forward to watch the strange plume of smoke speed towards the gate below.

  The rocket barely had enough distance to get to full speed before it slammed into the gate. The HEAT (High Explosive Anti Tank) Warhead buried deeply into the sturdy gate before exploding.

  The concussion stunned the guards in the turrets. They dropped to their knees clutching their ears, all thoughts of defending the gate gone.

  A cloud of dust floated in front of the gate. As it started to settle Atkinson held his breath.

  ‘Take us in.’ He slapped Wallace on the shoulder.

  The gate was hanging into the water, revealing a gap wide enough to allow the Guardian to pass through with clearance to each side.

  Dean Wallace slammed the throttles against the stops and threw the wheel hard over. In the waist of the boat Topper carelessly chucked the useless remains of the rocket overboard and picked up his M4 Carbine.

  ‘Weapons hot, try to save your ammo, but take out anything that looks like it may get a hit on us.’ Atkinson screamed over the wind.

  He raised his weapon one handed and stood beside Wallace, one hand resting on the console to steady himself, ready to defend the skilled pilot.

  The boat sped through the shattered gate and into the canal system of the city, clearing the gate with less than a metres clearance on each side. The Rangers tensed, expecting an immediate response, but they passed through.

  The first stretch of the canal led directly north. It was three hundred metres wide like the canal outside the city. On each side there were docks holding part of the Atlantian fleet lit by torches at regular intervals. They roared past at an easy forty-five miles an hour.

  The Rangers could see sailors and marines running to their biremes in the hope that they could chase the speeding boat. They held their fire as they realised there was no immediate threat.

  ‘Four minutes to first turn.’ Atkinson called into his throat microphone. The message was relayed to his team and also to another team that was within the city. Their eighteen and a half mile race had begun.

  Behind the speeding patrol boat a marine reached the end of a jetty. He grabbed the stubby hammer hanging on a hook and began beating away at a hollow metal triangle.

  The resulting gongs began reverberating through the air, catching the speeding boat and passing the message of alarm into the heart of the city.

  In the boat they could easily hear the deep-throated sound.

  ‘Keep your eyes open, they know we’re coming.’

  Wallace flicked a switch on the control panel and a pair of powerful spotlights swept the darkness aside, throwing the canal into relished clarity.

  ‘Might as well see where we’re going,’ he announced.

  *

  Outer Third Quadrant 25th May

  Fisher acknowledged the call from Atkinson. Arrayed behind and to his sides were fifty hand-selected warriors from the Fourth and Fifth Quadrants. Close by were Dingo, Jarak, Danny and Fitz.

  Saraph crept quietly up to them.

  ‘We’re ready. The Third will be taking over guard on the gate in a minute. They have received orders to let us pass.’

  They crouched down. A short distance away they could see guardsman from the Third dressing their ranks and preparing to take over guard duty on the North Canal Gate.

  Their commander looked briefly in the direction where they were hidden, then issued the order for his men to move out. The detachment moved in perfect formation towards the gatehouse.

  The gatehouse was situated above the canal and was reached by a pair of wide sweeping ramps, one on each side of the canal. As always the Atlantian architecture had grace as well as functionality. Any ships would have been able to sail with their masts up underneath the gatehouse if they needed to.

  The officer from the detachment already on duty marched down the ramp to meet the replacements and stopped them.

  From their hidden location it was plain to see that something wasn’t proceeding as it should be.

  ‘They’re not moving,’ Eraz whispered from beside Danny.

  ‘Damn,’ said Fisher.

  ‘Give Hoylarn a minute, he has seniority.’ Saraph referred to the First Captain of the Third Outer Guards.

  The chances of Hoylarn pulling rank were abruptly reduced as a sound started to drift across the city. The sound of alarm bells.

  The officer from the Tenth snapped his head around to look towards the centre of the city.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Fisher.

  He stood and raced out of the shadows. The Warriors from the Fourth and Fifth followed with a roar.

  At the gate Hoylarn issued orders and his men spread in a line and lowered their spears to face Fisher and the approaching warriors.

  Behind him the Officer from the Tenth used the time to also issue orders. His men raced from their positions to reinforce the Third. They stood in line with their spears grounded, ready to step forward into any gaps that would appear in the ranks before them as injuries were sustained.

  Fisher ran with Dingo to his right and Fitz to his left. Danny, Saraph, Sophia, Eraz and Jarak were beyond Dingo. There was a line of warriors in front of them, armed with swords and shields.

  At a distance of twenty metres Hoylarn issued a shouted order. In perfect synchronicity every second warrior took a stride forward and one to the left to stand in front of his companion. Every one lifted his spear to a safe position.

  The unprepared warriors from the Tenth had no time to react as the Fourth and Fifth charged unimpeded through the gaps. The swordsmen were immediately inside the distance required by the heavy spears and they made easy work of the defenceless guards.

  ‘Dingo, get the runners.’

  The Ranger rammed his shoulder into the stomach of the guardsman blocking his path, lifting him bodily from the ground and launching him backwards.

  He lifted his M4 and, without breaking stride, fired off two sets of three round bursts that slammed into the backs of the Tenth officer and one of the guards who had dropped his shield to make a dash for safety.

  Fisher and General Ilissus made their way to the gatehouse and looked over the other side of the span.

  ‘We need to hold the gate for another twenty minutes,’ said Fisher.

  ‘That would be easier if we can keep the warriors in that barracks inside the building.’ Ilissus indicated a low building that was identical to the one that Hoylarn had left behind.

  ‘Dingo, Danny, Fitz. Get up here.’ The three men ran to the top of the arch.

  ‘I need you to make sure nobody comes out of that building. Keep them pinned from up here. I’m going to see if we can arrange some defensive structures.’

  He and General Ilissus looked around to see if they could find anything to make a barricade. Sophia and Saraph lead the combined warriors of the Fourth and Fifth up the ramp to a point where they could spread out and muster. The warriors still had their drawn weapons and linked their shields ready to repel any counterattack.

  Dingo knelt at the apex of the bridge with Danny to one side and Fitz at the other
.

  ‘Keep both eyes open and stay calm. I’ll do most or all the shooting unless they come out mob handed. I’ll tell you what to do then if that happens.’

  The two seamen nodded, and then held the Carbines ready.

  ‘If they come out of the streets I want Fitz to take the one by the canal, I’ll take the two in the centre and Danny, you take the one near the barracks and keep an eye on the barracks itself. Sing out when you change a magazine so the person beside knows to keep an eye on your zone.

  ‘Stick to single shots and aim for the body. If they wear armour it should react, and if they’re not it’ll put them down. ‘Scuse me.’

  Dingo raised his carbine and fired a round towards the barracks. Instead of aiming at the first two men who had jogged out of the barracks, he fired at the third. The round hit the target in the chest, causing his armour to explode.

  The shrapnel from the body armour blasted the other two guards to the ground. Dingo refrained from firing again as the two men slowly dragged themselves back into the shelter of the barracks.

  ‘That should keep them back for a while.’ Dingo smiled.

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Danny. He pointed down the dark street.

  From the darkness they could hear the hobnailed sandals of approaching warriors. Slowly they came within distance of the lanterns.

  The front row of warriors where pushing several two wheeled cart before them. The heavy wooden boards of the cart were angled up to provide protection.

  From their elevated position the three gunmen could see that the street behind the makeshift mobile barricade was filled with warriors. They had swapped their ornate Orichalcum shields for training versions, which were plain wood.

  ‘Damn, they’ve figured it out,’ said Dingo.

  Steadily the approaching warriors streamed down the street and into the open area before the bridge. They began dressing their lines, ready to attack. Danny and Fitz started to develop a hollow feeling in their stomachs as more and more warriors joined the lines.

  ‘We need to be able to fire past those wagons.’ Dingo looked at the gatehouse.

  ‘Quick, give me a leg up.’ He ran to the wall then stepped into Fitz’ cupped hands. With a heave Dingo hauled himself onto the flat roof then turned as first Danny, then a leaping Fitz, joined him.

  Further down the slope the thin line of the Fourth and Fifth prepared to meet the attack. Sophia and Saraph walked back and forth in front of the line. Fisher and Ilissus stood part way up the incline attempting to come up with tactics that would enable them to hold the bridge.

  There was the shout of an order, and the warriors stepped forward. With a rumble, the heavy carts were pushed forward.

  Danny looked at his watch. They had to hold for over a quarter of an hour.

  *

  The Canal 25th May

  The Guardian patrol boat left a turbulent white wake in the dark water behind it as it roared down the canal. The high walls of the water way amplified the noise, drowning out any attempts at conversation.

  The Rangers on the boat were concentrating on their fields of fire, looking for signs of movement amongst the shadows between the torches. So far they hadn’t fired a round, relying on the speed of the boat to get them past any obstacles before it could respond.

  ‘Turn coming up.’ shouted Wallace.

  The Rangers braced themselves as the pilot threw the controls to the right. The boat reacted instantly, throwing a huge sheet of water to the left as it banked into the turn at forty miles an hour.

  Wallace straightened out the yoke to resume the race down the centre of the canal, now heading east. The Canal curved gently back towards the North as it skirted the central island.

  According to the information they had, the bank off the port bow was under control of the First and Second Quadrants, whilst the starboard bow was regulated by the Sixth for the next few miles, then the Fifth, Fourth and finally the Third, where they would take another starboard turn to head north again.

  A sudden plume of fire erupted from the water forty metres in front of the boat. It descended in a spray and continued to burn on the surface of the canal.

  Wallace instinctively yanked the controls to avoid the fire. Beside him Atkinson lurched to one side. His neck snapped to one side, throwing his eyes up into the air. A speck in the air was growing larger. A flaming projectile was on a direct course for the boat.

  ‘Incoming!’ he screamed.

  Wallace looked into the sky and dragged the control yoke to the left. The projectile barely missed the patrol boat and exploded as it hit the water. Atkinson and Wallace ducked beneath the protection of the control console as liquid fire sprayed over the boat.

  The two Rangers manning the starboard machine-gun caught the full blast and were instantly turned into human torches. In agony they threw themselves over the gunwale into the canal in an effort to quench the flames.

  Atkinson turned to see the two men splash into the water. He was about to call for Wallace to reverse course when, instead of killing the flames, contact with the water caused the flames to flare up with increased fury.

  As the boat weaved back and forth along the canal Atkinson could see the burning bodies of his men sinking into the depths.

  The source of the projectiles quickly became evident. The patrol boat continued along the canal dodging smoking missiles from a pair of biremes that were moored in the centre of the canal. On the forecastle of each was a twin-armed catapult.

  As each catapult was fired, part of the energy released assisted in drawing back the twin’s arm. This aided the bombardiers to keep a steady stream of fire. The Atlantians were able to maintain their rate of fire, and between shots they fine tuned their aim, bringing successive projectiles closer and closer to the Rangers.

  As soon as the powerful spotlights splashed across the biremes Chick opened fire with his Mark 48-0 machine gun, spraying both of the bows. The rapid fire sent the bombardiers diving for cover. The ceramic-coated rounds ploughed into the heavy wood, sending deadly splinters sweeping across the exposed deck.

  The Guardian continued to speed towards the biremes. Chick and Beatbox worked efficiently as a team to change the box on the machine gun. As he chambered the first round Chick scanned the front of the two ships, idly noticing the bombardiers scrambling back to their posts.

  A glance at the waterline gave Chick an idea. He had seen the glimpse of a metallic reflection from the lantern that the bombardiers were using to aid their actions.

  Instead of aiming at the catapults he adjusted his aim and targeted the hulls of the ships. The bullets slammed through the water and cracked against the Orichalcum sheathed rams with destructive power.

  With a roar the Orichalcum exploded. The detonation was prevented from spreading by the water and was turned back upon itself. The only free area for the explosion to expand into was the ship. The keels of the two biremes were ripped off, allowing the dark waters of the canal to flood into their holds.

  With the weight of the water and the catapults on the prows the biremes practically dived into the depths. They disappeared in an expanding puddle of fire as the catapults payload hit the water.

  The Guardian roared past, leaving the surviving crewmen swimming amongst the debris.

  ‘Topper, take over the starboard MG.’ Atkinson spoke calmly into his throat microphone.

  Topper kept low and made his way to the hard mounted weapons point. He was surprised to see flames still licking around the weapon. With a shock he realised that the flames were spreading to the magazine.

  He saw Atkinson looking back at him.

  ‘Dump it Topper.’

  The Ranger grabbed the Mark 48-0 with his gloved hands and heaved it out of its mounting and into the canal. The boat sped onwards, leaving the weapon to burst into flames as it hit the water. Topper watched it descend to the depths. He saw a plume of water burst up as the m
agazine exploded.

  He knelt and pulled his carbine around from his back. Raising it he swept it over the dark shore. Gunfire erupted from the far side of the boat as Jazzy fired at a group of archers slightly ahead of the boat.

  The heavy bullets punched into the unarmoured warriors, spinning them to the ground. The few arrows that were fired were released hastily and landed well away from their intended target.

  Wallace concentrated hard on their path. Luckily the bright moonlight was illuminating the water and the spotlights enabled him to pick out smaller objects. The dark banks were lit regularly by lanterns, giving him guidance like the cats eyes on a motorway.

  The Guardian flew under another bridge, leaving a broad wake that caught the moonlight. Instantly the sporadic archery fire from the port bow stopped. They had run the gauntlet of the First Quadrant.

  *

  Northern Gateway 25th May

  Jarak stood in the front line of the defenders, watching carefully through narrowed eyes as the carts moved slowly towards them. Suddenly he dashed from the line towards the part of the ramp. As he reached the wall he leant his shield against the wall and bent down to pick something up.

  Having recovered what he wanted he looked up and saw that the carts were almost upon him. He sprang to his feet and ran back to his own lines, leaving his shield leant against the wall. He passed between the warriors and moved to where Saraph stood with Eraz.

  ‘How did that look?’ he asked.

  ‘Like the Kraken was after your soul,’ laughed Eraz.

  On the crest of the gatehouse Dingo calmly waited. The curve of the bridge meant that the carts were slightly away from the wall of the city. This left a narrow gap through which he could see the neglected shield.

  The row of carts rolled slowly past the shield that was strategically aligned. Dingo raised his weapon, aimed carefully and loosed a three round burst.

  The shield exploded like a claymore mine, throwing shards of Orichalcum into the flank of the approaching warriors. With shrapnel still flying the warriors of the Fourth launched an attack.