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Edda Page 8

by Conor Kostick


  Blue and red streaks flashed across the sky, indicating that the human avatars from Saga were in the thick of battle and firing their energy weapons. It was too congested over by the portal to see what was happening. Some distance ahead, however, Ghost caught sight of Cindella, and her heart gave a skip of delight that Erik’s avatar was still alive. The pirate was standing on top of a troop carrier, surrounded by enemy soldiers but sweeping them away with a machine gun she had captured. It looked like the avatar’s magic armor from Epic was effective here, because bullets were hitting the figure but just bouncing off her. As Ghost watched admiringly, a warrior looking like a medieval knight climbed into the vehicle and caught Cindella from behind with a thrust from a sword. That staggered Cindella and she leaped from the truck, disappearing from Ghost’s view.

  Ever since Ghost had rolled through the portal and down the hill, a stream of expletives had been coming through her coms unit, but in the last few seconds they had died away, which was rather ominous. She hadn’t been able to speak until now; all her concentration had been needed to deflect bullets. A large group of pikemen had spotted her and were running toward her, but she had a few moments until they arrived. It was most peculiar how the soldiers here were a mix of types, from those using ancient handheld weapons to those using fairly modern guns.

  “What’s going on? Have we a plan?” she asked the static, all the while firing non-stop at the incoming attackers.

  B.E.’s voice was a whisper. “I’m lying in a pile of bodies beside a tank, playing dead.”

  “Ghost!” cried Erik. “Get back out through the portal if you can. I think we’re going to wipe. I’m down to twenty-two percent health.”

  There was no time to say anything further, for despite the fact that Ghost had picked off a dozen of the pikemen with her handguns, there were still twenty or so who had reached her and were now chopping down at her with poles, the ends of which were fixed with sharp curved blades. Again there was something curious about the soldiers: they all seemed to perform the same actions. This made it relatively easy to swerve and dodge their blows, except that things were getting congested. The gun in her right hand was out of power, so in midair—vaulting as a pikeman attempted to cut her legs off at the knee—Ghost dropped the empty gun to pull out a dagger. Dragging an off-balance soldier across her body to block the incoming attacks, Ghost alternated close-range shots from her left hand with stabs and slashes from her right. Breathless and sweating, she soon stood alone in the center of a pile of bodies.

  “Other reports, please,” she managed to pant out. Taking a tip from B.E., Ghost crouched down among the dead while she tried to get a picture of what was happening.

  “I think it’s just the three of us,” answered Erik.

  But there were three distinct clicks in her ear.

  “Was that you, B.E.? If someone else is alive but unable to speak, tap again.”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Harald? Inny? Anon . . .”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  So, the scout was hiding somewhere, too. Probably surrounded by enemies.

  “Anyone see what happened to Harald and Inny?” Erik’s voice faltered slightly.

  “Shot,” whispered B.E. “Both dead.”

  Maybe she should try to get back to Saga? Much as Ghost relished being in battle, if too many enemy soldiers focused on her, even her RAL abilities would not be able to cope with them all. Just as she was readying herself to sprint back up the slope toward the portal, an extraordinary sight caused Ghost to remain in place.

  Cindella came into view about fifty meters away, sprinting around the side of the hill on which the portal stood, with an enormous body of horsemen of the medieval type galloping behind her. Farther up the hillside was a crowd of the more modern soldiers, moving after her much more slowly, but firing their guns all the while. Not that this was a problem, since those bullets that hit their target still bounced off the avatar’s armor. As Ghost watched, Cindella produced a crystal bottle from the pouches around her waist and drank from it. Some kind of magic potion, probably.

  Keeping low to the ground as the whole chase thundered past Ghost’s position, she smiled to herself. Erik had managed to draw all of their remaining troops in a chase after his avatar. It seemed from the curved route he was taking that Erik was steering Cindella in a wide circle around the hill.

  “. . . off me! I protest! How dare . . .”

  “Gunnar?” Ghost whispered.

  “He’s gone,” said B.E. faintly. “He just rolled out of the portal and ran straight back to Saga again.”

  “The coward! You mean he ducked out of the battle?” It was rare to hear Erik sound so furious, but a moment later his voice became calmer. “I’m sorry, Ghost.”

  “It’s only an avatar. Why is he afraid of it being killed?” she asked in reply, keeping her voice low.

  “I’ve no idea what he’s thinking, but his absence may be to our advantage right now. Anonemuss, I want you to unclip, please. Go get Gunnar to clip out, too. Tell him exactly what is happening here. Then he is to go back into Saga and tell Milan and Athena. The main thing is that they don’t try to come in. It’s too dangerous. Got that?”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Do you need a full report from me, or can you see what’s happening?”

  Tap.

  “Tap three times if you want the full report.”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “There are about fifty modern soldiers left in the vicinity of the portal. With something like five hundred barbarian riders chasing me around the base of the hill, I’m running in a circle whose path is about two hundred meters from the portal, which is in the center. I’m good—eighty-nine percent health and slowly rising. I can keep this up indefinitely, as the bullets don’t damage me. I haven’t given up yet, and I reckon B.E. and I still have a chance, so Ghost, there’s no need for you to take any risks. Also, seeing as Gunnar can act as a communication channel where he is, he needn’t come through again.”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “What’s the plan, then?” If B.E. had any doubts, it was impossible to detect them in his voice; it may have been a whisper, but it was almost an enthusiastic one.

  “Mad, isn’t it? I’m going to clear the modern soldiers from the hill with my bow, while keeping these cavalry chasing me if I can. Then we’ll see. If you can stand up safely and pick off these horsemen one by one without being attacked, we are good. If they come for you, there’s nothing I can do, so run back through the portal.”

  “Gotcha,” acknowledged B.E.

  “Same for you, Ghost, wherever you are.”

  “I’m hiding in a pile of bodies at the bottom of the hill. You just passed me.”

  “Nice. When the hill is clear, go up to the portal, and then, if the cavalry break off from chasing me, at least you’re safe.”

  “Good idea.”

  “One down.”

  A few seconds passed.

  “Two more. There’s about fifty altogether, though, so this may be a while.”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Welcome back, Anonemuss. All good on your side?” There was a cheerful note in Erik’s voice now, and Ghost smiled to herself. He was the perfect comrade to have alongside you in battle; he’d kept his composure and his plan sounded like it might work.

  Tap, tap.

  “What’s two taps mean?” asked Ghost. “Neither yes nor no?”

  “I bet it means Gunnar was acting the maggot again, but that he has gone to talk to Milan, right?” Despite the risk of being heard by the remaining riflemen on the hill, B.E. evidently couldn’t resist offering his negative estimate of Gunnar’s likely behavior.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Ha,” chuckled Ghost.

  “Stay hidden, wherever you are, Anonemuss,” said Erik. “I’m taking out the soldiers on the hill with my bow while trying to keep these horsemen focused on me. I’ll let you know when it’s clear, and then you can join B.E. and Ghost up at the portal.”
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  Tap, tap, tap.

  For a while there was just a faint hiss over the coms. Then Cindella came into view again and Ghost lay flat and still. Arrows flew overhead as Cindella released shots, firing over her shoulder. There were distinctly fewer bullets flying past than there had been on Erik’s last circuit. The huge numbers of cavalry, though, were still intimidating, and the ground shook as they rode by.

  A few more minutes passed. Above her the sky was clear blue apart from a wispy cloud that drifted past, far above the carnage on the hillside. It was a good idea to warn Milan to stay clear. He probably had been getting ready to come through and he almost certainly would be dead if he had. Athena, too, if she couldn’t bear waiting on her own.

  “I’m clear.” All of a sudden B.E. spoke up in his normal voice. “You just killed the last of them from around me.”

  “Great, but don’t open fire till I’ve eliminated the other riflemen. It won’t be long now, and it would be a shame if they shot you after all this running around.”

  “Will do.”

  Another appearance of Cindella and her long tail of riders. It was eerie how they all rode in the same pose, with an upraised spear in one hand, and it was peculiar too how their horses all ran with the same gait. These NPCs were not particularly sophisticated in their programming.

  “Right you are, B.E. Give it a go. If any barbarians break off to attack you, please jump back through the portal. Ghost, Anonemuss, if you are clear of the riders, maybe now would be a good time to get up to the portal.”

  At once Ghost leaped up and sprinted as fast as she could up the hill, her senses alert all the while for incoming fire. But it was true: the riflemen on the hill were dead and all the vehicles seemed empty of crew. Panting, she arrived at the top, where B.E. was methodically firing his pulsar weapon. He paused just for a moment to nod a greeting to Ghost, then drew a line on the cavalry once more. Down below, Cindella was in plain sight, leading the horsemen as though they were a great dark cloak spread out behind her. Where they had been riding around the hill, a wide muddy circle had been drawn in the grass.

  Anonemuss, the scout, ran up.

  “Where were you hiding?” asked B.E.

  “I was holding on to the underside of a troop carrier.”

  “Hah. Neat.”

  “Hey team, I see you.” Cindella gave them a wave and Ghost waved back before trying a shot with her handgun. The red bolt of energy streaked away but expired before it reached the rider she had aimed at. Dropping the gun, Ghost went over and picked a rifle up from a dead enemy soldier. It was a very crude piece of programming, a simple device. The bullet it fired would do only a fraction of the damage of an energy bolt, but at least it would reach the target.

  “Got one.” B.E. was kneeling now and Ghost could see the regular pulses of his shots at the edge of her vision. “I don’t believe it, after that mess we were in, but I think we’re going to win this. So long as they keep chasing you, at least. It’s a bit like the dragon fight, don’t you think, Erik?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “It’s like, if they just had a bit more intelligence, they’d hunt us down, or some of them would stop and go back the other way to intercept you. But even though they are stronger than us, their programming is too limited. And we’ve found a way to exploit it.”

  “True.” And round Cindella came again, allowing Ghost and the two avatars to open fire once more. They were growing more confident, shooting fast and piling up the bodies of horsemen at the base of the hill. Each time she came to their side of the portal, Cindella had to vary her path slightly, running alongside the curving lines of slain barbarians, all in the same death pose: horse and rider lying together on the grass.

  At last, only a handful of the enemy remained and Cindella stood her ground while everyone else finished them off, Erik evidently confident that Cindella could avoid the final stabs of the enemy’s spears. What a battle! Ghost slapped B.E. and Anonemuss on the back, then picked up her airboard to stroll down the hill and join Cindella.

  “That was pretty good fun in the end,” said B.E.

  “Want me to log out and tell Gunnar what happened?” asked Anonemuss.

  “Yes, please, and if you can persuade him, have Gunnar come through when he’s done reporting to Milan and Athena.”

  “Nice strategy, Erik. Well done.” Ghost and Cindella walked over the battlefield examining their fallen opponents. The detail on the figures was not great. The modern soldiers, for example, had the outline of pockets on their uniforms, but when Ghost and Cindella bent down to search through them, it became obvious that these were just drawn on the cloth and could not actually be opened.

  “Thanks, Ghost. We were lucky, though, really. It was so close to a total wipe. Even Cindella was nearly down.”

  B.E. picked up a rifle from the ground and shook his head. “Strange how crude it is. Like a drawing.” He pulled the trigger while aiming at a distant bush and missed. “I wonder how they reload.”

  Cindella bent down and picked one up, and as she turned it over in her hands, Erik had his avatar remove her glove. All at once the world was washed in subtle hints of green and turquoise, the light coming from a ring on her finger and recasting the scene.

  “What’s the ring?” asked Ghost.

  Cindella brandished it proudly. “It’s a magic ring from Epic, the only one of its kind: the Ring of True Seeing.”

  “And does it tell you anything about these people?”

  “Maybe. These guns, for example—they have no mechanical parts. They look like rifles, but they could be any shape. What makes them work is something I can now see inside of them, although I don’t really know what I’m looking at. There’s a space in the stock of the guns packed with glowing symbols, linked together and slowly writhing around each other. Same with these bodies. They have a cavity in their chests, but—presumably because they’re dead—there’s no glow and the symbols are broken and scattered, like the springs and coils of a watch that has been smashed open.”

  As Erik was talking, the portal flickered and the striking blond trooper that was Gunnar stepped from it. Despite the neutral expression of his avatar, there was something nervous about his movements.

  A moment later, Milan and Athena came through and behind them came Anonemuss.

  “Wow, nice battle.” Milan appeared impressed by the piles of bodies all around them.

  “The good news from your perspective”—B.E. stood up and moved toward Milan—“is that these things are not too smart. They had a very rigid set of moves. If they came through the portal and attacked Saga, they would do a lot of damage, but you would defeat them.” B.E. gestured to the hundreds of fallen troops. “Erik and I did most of this, because they wouldn’t stop chasing him even when I was picking them off.”

  The bodies of Harald and Inny were lying near the portal and Athena was searching through their belongings. Having found what she was looking for—the tracking device—she stood up and pointed.

  “He’s over there to the north. Probably a good way off, because the signal is fairly weak.”

  “The scout that came into Saga, you mean?” asked Ghost.

  “Right.”

  “I think I see a road, or a river, where there’s a gap in the hills.” B.E. was looking through the telescopic sights of his pulse rifle in the direction Athena was pointing. At this, Cindella rummaged in a pouch and produced a small box, the velvet-lined interior of which held two large glass lenses. More magic, evidently, for soon after she put them on, Erik was able to give a report.

  “It is a road. And there are people on it; more of those barbarian horsemen, riding this way.”

  Before anyone could respond, a distinct droning sound, like that of a bee, could be heard from the same direction.

  “Milan, Athena, get back into Saga now, please. I think the rest of us should move out of here.” Ghost looked about them for some cover to hide in.

  “I want to stay,” said Milan determinedly.


  “Me, too.”

  “Thanks, both of you, but look.” Ghost pointed at the shattered bodies of the avatars of Inny and Harald. “That could be you.”

  By now there was a dark spot visible in the section of the sky from which the ominous deep sound was coming. It was moving fast.

  “There’s more coming! A lot more,” cried Erik. “Tanks and personnel carriers full of soldiers are right behind the riders. We really have to run for it now. Milan, Athena—Ghost is right; you should go back now while you can.” Cindella began to move toward a line of trees, but paused because Milan was not budging.

  “Look, Ghost, we’ve been through a lot together. I like you pretty much more than anyone else I know—with the possible exception of Athena—and I owe you. So if I die, I die, but I’m coming along.”

  “And while I agree with those sentiments”—Athena raised her voice—“the real case for us staying is more pragmatic than the words of this romantic. You might need our skills.”

  “Please. Go back,” urged Ghost.

  “Get down!” shouted Anonemuss, ducking in beside a truck. Frighteningly swift, the black dot in the sky had become a plane, diving straight toward them, with a new sound audible despite the angry roaring noise of its engines: that of bullets hammering out and tearing up the hill in lines that rushed toward them.

  Only Ghost remained on her feet, concentrating, slowing time. Two impact lines came racing along the ground at the ferocious speed of the airplane. But just as they seemed set to smash into her body, the bullet tracks disappeared. While the noise of the plane’s machine guns was still loud in her ears, the bullets were no longer hitting the ground; instead, they were streaming through the air, curving away above her. Ghost turned, the wind from the passage of the plane blowing her hair all around her head, and guided the lines of bullets on up into the sky with movements of her arms. A moment later the plane blew apart in a ball of flame: its bullets, redirected by Ghost, had found the fuel tank. Debris fell around them as the brightness of the explosion slowly faded from her eyes.

 

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