Prosperine: The Adventures of the Space Heroine Hickory Lace: Books 1, 2 & 3 (The Prosperine Trilogy)

by PJ McDermott

  Hickory frowned. It didn’t sound right. Yes, protect the Ark, but why use a fusion bomb to do it? Definitely overkill. “Why booby trap it with an explosive that would threaten the entire planet?” she said.

  The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Hickory, then at each other.

  The admiral shrugged. “Does it matter? If it is a conventional explosive, it’ll still rob us of a historical find. If it’s a PBF, the result is the same.”

  “Except it destroys the planet,” said Hickory, raising her eyebrows.

  Gareth clicked his fingers several times. “There’s a piece of the puzzle missing, eh? Something happened after the original pioneers left to frighten the ones left behind into using extreme measures. Anything on the recordings, Professor?”

  “There might be. Some of the recordings appear to have been made at a later date, but we haven’t found anything yet that would shine a light on this.”

  The admiral rapped his knuckles on the table. “People! We don’t have time for this. We don’t need to know why this happened, only what happened and how to fix it. Now, does anyone have any ideas about that?”

  Jess said slowly, “If they were as advanced as we think, they would incorporate a way of disarming the bomb in case of accidental detonation. A code or a key.”

  The Teacher said, “Something that would survive the regression of society. An artifact of immense power that would seek out the company of individuals who would keep it safe until a place and time when it is needed.”

  Markhov pointed to the hologram. The image of a sword filled the screen, followed by more symbols. “This was found in a later recording.”

  Gareth spoke for all. “The sword of Connat-sèra-Haagar!”

  The screen went blank.

  Everyone looked at the professor. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s where this record finishes. There should be other visual records—probably an inventory of contents, lists of people and families selected…” He paused, spreading his hands wide. “The sword is the key to something important. There’s no doubt about that, but is it a failsafe device, and if so, how would it be used?”

  The Teacher spoke quietly, “The sword of Connat is imbued with power, a magic that draws it in a time of need to this place, to the Ark, like a magnet draws iron. The ancients made this so, and there will be a reason. Perhaps the sword itself will answer our questions.” He paused. “I sense its presence. It is nearby.”

  Good News Bad News

  Hickory, good news and not so good. Hickory received the call from Jess via her SIM implant. After the Teacher’s pronouncement, the admiral had given Jess permission to use the shuttle to fly over the island while the rest of them remained with the Ark. “Go ahead,” she said.

  There’s no sign of Vogel. I don’t think he’s on the Island. That’s the good news, but we have a problem out here. It looks like the troglodytes are coming over for dinner.

  Hickory glanced at Tirpogh. The boy sat on the floor playing with a plastic toy soldier the admiral had given him. “How many are there?” she said.

  We passed about a hundred of them on the way to our camp. They should reach there in half an hour. They’re armed with spears, and they brought their pets with them.

  “They’re probably upset we escaped, but I’m surprised they followed us here.”

  Me too. Could it be the boy they’re after?

  “Might be, but I don’t fancy giving him to them if he doesn’t want to go.” She handed the boy a handkerchief and signaled for him to tie it over his nose to reduce the effect of the fumes.

  I’ve a bad feeling about this, Hickory.

  “Hang in there, Jess. Gareth and four techs are back at camp. I want you to protect the professor’s equipment for as long as you can, but if it looks like they’re going to attack, I order you to take the shuttle out to the Ark.”

  Hickory signed off, leaned over and coughed violently. She took Tirpogh by the hand and hurried over to where the admiral, the Teacher, and the professor were gathered. Acrid white smoke filled the Ark’s flight deck, lights flashed on the panels in front of them, and a blaring siren made it hard to hear. A few hours earlier, a holo panel had materialized above the station they were working on, displaying a sequence of flashing characters accompanied by the jarring discord. It looked like a countdown, but how long would it take to reach zero?

  Quickly, she explained the situation on the beach. “I have to go and help them.”

  “I’m sorry Hickory, you’re needed here.” The admiral appeared anything but sorry. He looked angry, and he was taking it out on everyone else. He directed his wrath at the chief scientist. “Professor Markhov, I must know how long we have before we have to evacuate. If you can’t tell me, I’ll order everyone out now. I’m not putting more Agency lives at risk.” A dozen or so specialists still worked inside the Ark.

  Markhov glanced up from the station he was working on. He wore a mask and perspiration dripped from his brow. He raised an arm to wipe it away. “If you stop interrupting me, I’ll be able to tell you in a few minutes.”

  “Are you alright, Hickory?” asked the Teacher, leaning over to look into her face.

  She gasped and coughed again. “I’m okay. This smoke is catching my throat. Doesn’t it bother you?” She accepted a mask and slipped it on. She found it remarkable how calm the Teacher remained in the face of the confusion and danger.

  “A slight tickle, nothing more,” he replied. “Gareth and Jess are safe for the moment.”

  Hickory didn’t bother to question him on how he could possibly know. She didn’t doubt him and felt a measure of relief. On many occasions, he had demonstrated his ability to see and hear things others could not.

  Markhov’s muffled voice could be heard over the din. “Hickory, come here. I need your help. You too, Admiral.”

  *

  The primitives massed silently on the crest of the hill, a shadowy outline against the deep red light of the pre-dawn. Each warrior carried a reptile balanced on one forearm and a spear in the other hand.

  Jess and Gareth stood side-by-side, watching them. The four technical assistants stood nervously to one side, swords in hand. The pilot of the shuttlecraft sat inside his vehicle, prepared to take off should the primitives reach him. The admiral couldn’t risk the shuttle being stranded, and he had issued instructions to leave the others rather than let it be taken if it came to a choice.

  “They’re symbiotic,” said Jess. “I guessed as much when Tirpogh collected a couple of the chicks in the cave on the way into his homeland. They speak with each other, and I’m guessing the birds will carry out the commands of their masters.”

  “Not great for us, then,” said Gareth, loosening his sword belt.

  Jess glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. “Bad timing,” she said. “I hope the others can figure out how to defuse the bomb.”

  “Professor Markhov’s a pretty smart cookie.” Gareth grimaced. “I don’t think our techs will be much help in a fight.”

  “Better than no help at all,” said Jess. She called to the technicians. “Hey, boys. Come in close. It’ll be easier to look out for each other.”

  The four techs, holding their weapons uncertainly, joined them.

  “Anybody got any experience of combat?” asked Gareth.

  The techs looked at each other, then the youngest looking one spoke, “I did a stint with the Reserves before I joined the Agency. Never saw any fighting, though.”

  “Uh, okay. Anyone else—no?” Gareth pointed at the youngster. “I’m promoting you to corporal. What’s your name, son?”

  “Jaxit, Robert Jaxit, sir.”

  Jess’s eyes rolled. “Gareth! Don’t be a twit.”

  “Okay, okay—just some fun before we die.” He grinned at the techs.

  “Looks like they’ve waited long enough,” said Jess, gazing aver Gareth’s shoulder.

  The elders, wearing their animal skin cloaks and with their hair piled high, had positioned thems
elves to face their own warriors. Now, all except the chieftain moved to the rear. He strode along the line and raised his spear above his head. He screamed at his followers, frequently pointing his knobbly club at the visitors.

  “What do you think?” said Gareth

  “I think we’re in trouble.”

  The leader whirled his club around his head three times, and each time his followers responded with a high-pitched ululation. On the third occasion, the warriors lifted their arms into the air, and the reptiles took off, rising like a dark cloud into the early morning sky.

  “Here they come,” said Jess, drawing her sword free. “Steady, everyone. Protect your face. They’ll go for the eyes first. Cut down any that come within range. Their necks are the most vulnerable to our swords. Try to cut clean and keep your sword moving.”

  The reptiles swarmed towards them, filling the air with their screams. The main body of warriors followed them, running down the hillside, brandishing their spears and yelling wildly. The elders stayed behind, watching from the ridge.

  Hickory, if you’ve any ideas, now would be a good time. Jess sent the desperate message via her SIM but heard no reply.

  *

  Hickory blinked the stinging smoke from her eyes and hurried over to Markhov, who stood in front of a large clear panel. Deep inside, she glimpsed purple sparks of light shimmering amongst a swirling milky-white mist. Three-dimensional geometric elements and mathematical objects, matrices, and strings of hieroglyphics rotated into view, then disappeared. Other wraith-like shapes fluttered in the background.

  “This is the central nervous system of the ship, I’m sure of it,” said Markhov. “It will coordinate all the primary systems like engineering, navigation, atmospheric control, life support, and communications. There’s a good chance it also connects to the self-destruct apparatus. If we knew how they are linked, we might be able to disable it.”

  “How do we find this link?” said Hickory.

  “From what we’ve learned, the ancients were a telepathic race who had a preference for working in harmony with each other. When they were faced with complex problems or tried to conceptualize solutions to their needs using first principles, they would use a networking technique to achieve their goals. I’m hoping that we two in tandem with the Teacher might be able to do the same.” He paused. His eyes flicked towards hers, then away.

  “But, how?” she asked.

  “By linking our minds to this machine in a similar way as we do with PORO. When we get inside, we’ll have enough mental energy to engage with the computer and our minds should be able to travel anywhere inside the system.”

  The admiral shook his head. “You’re talking about merging your mind with an alien machine, one we don’t have a clue as to how it works? At least humans built PORO and we sort of know what we’re doing, but this? It doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

  “It’s the only one I can think of that might possibly work.”

  “If we’re lucky,” said the admiral.

  “If we’re very lucky,” agreed Markhov.

  “What happens if we’re not so lucky?” said Hickory.

  “That’s the big unknown. Perhaps we set off the bomb, maybe nothing happens. We could already be too late, and the damn thing will go off in the next minute.”

  “We have three hours,” said the Teacher, approaching them with Tirpogh clutching his hands. “The boy has a rudimentary understanding of the Segniori language. All the primitives learn from an early age how to read the stories on their cave walls. I taught him the meaning of a minute of time and asked him to count on his fingers the number of minute intervals on the clock.”

  “Clever,” murmured Markhov. “Perhaps we can add the boy’s telepathic ability to ours to help engage the machine.”

  The Teacher smiled slightly. “No. That isn’t possible. The boy is untrained, and in any case, the language differences would prove to be a hindrance.”

  “Hmm. Alright then. Three hours should give us enough time, but we must make a start straight away. Admiral, you’d best take the rest of the team back to the Jabberwocky. If this thing goes up, it’ll take half the planet with it.”

  “Take the boy too, and I believe Gareth and Jess may need some help,” said the Teacher. “They’re well at this moment, although exhausted,” he said in answer to Hickory’s unasked question.”

  “How…never mind,” said the admiral, shaking his head.

  *

  For weeks he had soared over the mountains, deserts and the forests of this desolate land, enduring the searing heat and the incessant plagues of insects to look for his own kind. He would have given up, except there remained nothing else for him to do. He did not have the strength to fly back to the coldness of the Erlachi Mountains, and every time he thought of attempting the journey, he remembered the promise of the White One that he would find his family here. He held no doubt that the White One only spoke truth, and it gave him heart to continue his search.

  He almost passed them by, when he heard the tinny, scratching voice call out in terror. He flew down and walked amongst them, and they bowed down in obeisance; scraggly, unkempt, wild-eyed monstrosities, their wings in tatters. They were scavengers, no longer the proud race of hunters they had once been, unrecognizable as his kin. Despair tore at his heart. These were his family? The last of a noble race reduced to mocking shadows. Instinctively, Temloki knew this inhospitable land was the cause of their demise. He resolved to leave and attempt the return home to Erlach. Better to die in solitude, or free in the skies over the ocean, than amongst these sorry creatures.

  Come, we have need of you, my friend. The Teacher’s voice resonated in the mind of Temloki. When he heard the summons, he felt half inclined to ignore it, but the White One had a powerful will and he found himself wheeling towards the source.

  *

  Temloki hovered high above the beach. Below him, a few of the wingless ones were keeping the Solakah and their puny two-legged companions at bay with their tiny metal teeth. He felt a rage burn like fire in his chest at the memory of Ka-Varla, filled with poisoned arrows. But, no, these were not of the Erlachi. He inhaled deeply and savored a faint but familiar tang. It belonged to the wingless whisperer from a far off world, the one who had spoken to him, friend to the White One.

  The Solakah were many and, though small, they were tenacious. He had come upon their lair when searching for his own kind and they had pursued him for many miles.

  The memory of his kinfolk filled him with sadness, and then anger at his fate. He swooped on the smaller reptiles, and cut a swathe through the legion, knocking dozens aside and seizing others in his massive jaws. He rolled his enormous frame and spun around, heading back towards them.

  The Solakah screeched in alarm but recovered quickly and parted on either side as he approached. Twisting one way then the other, Temloki snapped at any reptile within range.

  The flock on his left feigned an attack then pulled away at the last second, enticing the larger beast to pursue them. The remaining body of reptiles closed in behind and attacked from below, striking his underbelly with beak and claw. A few struck at the soft place between wing and shoulder, and Temloki shrieked. The enemy had discovered his weakest spot and now mercilessly attacked his vulnerable flesh. Spying a tar pit below, he folded his wings and plummeted earthward. At the last moment, before he plunged into the bubbling black pool, he spread his wings. His feet skimmed the surface, and he soared upwards. Many of the reptiles who followed his downward spiral could not pull back in time and disappeared into the tar.

  Temloki thrashed the air to gain altitude, and the smaller creatures resumed their attack. He screamed his rage, snapping at them and swiping them with his enormous wings and tail, but they continued to plague him. Temloki flew into the desert. He spotted a dry gully and tumbled into it, then followed its course for miles, twisting and turning at high speed to avoid hitting the walls. The smaller reptiles could not keep up with him. He swooped beneath a
rock arch and headed out to sea, his belly skimming the waves to prevent any attack from below.

  The reptiles pursued him for a mile, then gave up the chase and wheeled back to shore. Almost half their number had been destroyed, but there were enough left to fulfill the wishes of their masters. They zeroed in on Gareth and Jess.

  *

  Gareth slashed upwards and sliced off the heads of the first three to arrive. Looping her weapon overhead in both hands, Jess swung it in an arc that separated half a dozen more from their bodies. Corporal Jaxit and the three newly enlisted troopers waved their swords about with little effect. Blood and gore sprayed over everyone as the reptiles fell from the air.

  Startled by the ferocity of the attack, the creatures veered away.

  Gareth and Jess stood back to back and braced themselves for the next assault.

  “It’s a strange world, isn’t it?” said Gareth, panting. “The last time I saw the Riv-Amok we were trying to kill him, and he was doing his best to kill us.”

  “The Teacher’s doing, I suspect,” said Jess. She called to the techs, huddled together. “Get ready. They’re coming back.”

  They didn’t have long to wait. The flock circled once, then flew at them. Jess leaped high, spun away from an outstretched claw then slashed upwards with her sword, impaling one beast. Immediately, she swung downwards in a wide arc that severed several creature’s heads from their bodies. The reptiles collapsed to the ground, still pumping blood.

  Before Jess could bring her sword to bear again, another reptile flew at her, snapping at her face. She stumbled backward from the surprise of the attack. The beast hissed and spat as she dropped her sword and grasped its neck with both hands. “Gareth!” Frantic, she fell to the ground, the creature’s wings flailing about her head and its beak stabbing at her face.

  Gareth skewered the reptile through the throat and dragged Jess to her feet. “Come on, Mother. This is no time to lie down on the job.” The grin on his face faded as he saw Jaxit face down on the ground, unmoving.