by Tim Allen
“I have disabled the device,” Wolf confirmed to Syn and the soldiers. “These objects,” he said, holding up the batteries, “give the device its power. Without them, it is harmless.”
Syn had been listening to Wolf and scanning the interior of the box. She transferred the data to her neuro-net and was just about to inform Wolf that he could destroy Jonar’s creation when she detected a massive power surge. Then, a loud, shrieking noise came from underneath the box. Syn shouted, “Commander, watch out!”
As the high-pitched whine intensified, Wolf shook his head from side to side. Sharp pain erupted behind his eyes. He placed his hands on his head and gasped as wave after wave of pain rocked him. The men stared at Wolf in fear. One soldier held fast to his arms and asked, “My lord, are you all right?” An instant later, the device exploded, killing seven men and critically injuring six others. Wolf was thrown from the area and knocked senseless.
* * *
Wolf awoke to a cold rag on his forehead and a blinding headache. He looked around for a moment before the pain forced his eyes shut again, and he saw that he was in the med lab on his ship. After several minutes, he reopened his eyes and groaned, spotting candy striper Syn looking as desirable as ever. He dropped his head back on the pillow and dozed off, but then sprang out of bed and demanded, “Syn, how long was I unconscious?” His eyes widened as another question occurred to him. “How did you get me back to the ship?”
Syn smiled down at him and replied, “I see you’re back among the living, Commander. Those questions are easily answered. One, you have been unconscious for about six hours. Two, I am an extremely desirable female. Do not forget I can think faster than anyone on this planet and that has its advantages. We are on the plain, outside the castle.”
Wolf opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Syn touched a finger to his lips and said, “Shhh…When everyone was running to see you, I put on a backpack and ran up to you with the ship hovering above me. They wanted to take you into the castle, but I persuaded them to place you in the tent that I would erect. I used the ship’s holo-projectors to show me setting stakes and supports into the ground. It looked like I set up this giant pavilion on the plain. The scene below us is a tangible hologram. You are asleep, lying on a couch, in the hologram down there. I also am there, wiping your forehead with a damp cloth and feeding you warm broth.”
“So below us on the ground is a hologram of a tent?” Wolf asked, trying to comprehend.
Syn nodded.
“A hologram of me is lying in this holo-tent, unconscious?”
“Yes, Commander.”
“You are there, talking to visitors who come to see me…and the ship is hovering over this hologram, cloaked and projecting the force fields with its cameras?”
“Yes, Commander, the ship is doing it all—or rather, I am doing it all. No one can tell it is a projection. I told you earlier I had augmented the holo-emitters. But I have unfortunate news. The explosives in the jamming device killed thirteen men. No one who helped in your search survived.”
A look of sorrow crossed Wolf’s face, and then he asked, “What were the constituents in the explosive device? And what was that awful sound?”
“The explosive was picric acid, made by nitrating substances such as animal horn, silk, indigo, and other natural resins. In 1742, Johann Rudolf Glauber mentioned it in his writings on alchemy. Crude but effective as you found out. What concerns me more is the ultrasonic attack on you. I am sure the feedback from your earpiece amplified it. I will make adjustments to help you resist it in case we encounter another LRAD attack.”
“LRAD?”
“Long-range acoustic device, Commander. The human threshold of pain for sound is about one hundred thirty decibels. My sensors showed the attack reached one hundred fifty decibels before the explosion. The ultrasonic attack knocked you unconscious, not the explosion. The mystery is why it only affected you and not the other men around you.”
“Someone is uncommonly smart on this planet,” Wolf observed. “Did you figure out the jamming device?”
“Yes. I’ve built a jamming blocker and installed it on the ship’s hardware. That should stop the interference. I also modified your watch.” Syn handed him a new watch, smaller than the original. He felt a strange tingling in his arm as he put the device on his wrist.
“We will need to go to orbit to install the software in the satellites,” Syn added.
“Is anyone in the tent right now?” Wolf asked. When Syn shook her head, he said, “I’m going to the castle. Open the rear hatch.”
Syn complied, and Wolf looked down at the ten feet separating him from the ground. The top of the holo-tent was Avenger’s underbelly, projecting a tent surface to anyone who entered. He jumped to the ground, and his hologram on the bed disappeared. NASA Syn was in the tent smiling at him.
“Can you pack this thing up?” Wolf asked. “I want you airborne as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Commander, I will be packed in an hour. The furniture was brought out by the king’s men. You’ll need to have them come retrieve it.”
Wolf kissed Syn on the cheek and walked out of the tent. A hush descended over the men gathered around waiting for news on Wolf’s condition. One man took off sprinting towards the castle; Wolf assumed he was a runner for the king. Onel was waiting, and his face broke into a broad smile when he saw Wolf.
“My friend, thank you for saving my daughter. I am sorry you were injured. Please, accept this token of my appreciation.” Onel handed Wolf an expensive ring with a gold band. The flat black surface was adorned with the head of a dire lion that resembled a wolf engraved in gold filigree.
Wolf placed the ring on his left pinky, the only finger on which he could fit a ring, and said, “Thank you, Onel, it is exquisite. I will cherish it always. Is Jhondra all right? I had to stun her to save her. You understand, don’t you?”
“I saw it all. At first, I thought you had killed her because you couldn’t save her. But then I saw the others stir, and I knew you somehow put them to sleep with the ghost lights you fired.”
“Ghost lights?”
“Yes, the lights that came out of your cane. They hit the men and scared their souls from their bodies for a few minutes. I saw that the lights killed or destroyed everything else they hit.”
“Ghost lights—that’s a good explanation, my friend. It’s close to the truth. Jhondra will be all right, just sore for a few days. I grieve for the men who died in the explosion. I should have expected something like that.”
“No one can anticipate everything, my friend. We lost over two hundred and fifty in that battle, but Jonar lost six hundred slain, and one thousand men have sworn fealty to our king. That is, they will, if you will.”
“If I will what, Onel?”
“Swear fealty to King Waylan and become the king’s champion.”
“Become his what?”
“His champion. You will be given wealth, privilege, and nobility. A wife would be given if you were not already betrothed; but the king has decreed that you may have two if that is your wish.”
“Two of what?”
“Two wives, of course. Jhondra has said she will share you if your bride-to-be agrees.”
Wolf swallowed hard as Syn’s jealous voice hissed in his ear, “Not a chance!” He looked over his shoulder at the tent Syn was breaking down and answered, “No, I must decline. In my land, a man can have only one wife. He must be faithful to her until death separates them. I am happy with my betrothed. She and I are connected in so many ways—we are inseparable.”
“Good save, Wolf. I forgive you,” Syn purred in a sultry voice.
Onel glanced over at Syn, who was bending over to pull a pole from the ground. Her shapely backside in the formfitting NASA uniform was causing the men watching her to shift from foot to foot and whisper among themselves, grinning like schoolboys who were seeing a bathing woman for the first time. “She is an admirable lady. Come, the king wants to see you about becomi
ng his champion and to discuss other matters,” Onel said.
They walked towards the castle, and Wolf noticed a sea of new tents pitched around the area. The recruits saw Wolf approaching and rose, cheering their hero. Dozens of men converged on him and dropped to their knees, extending their hands out in a cupping gesture, as if waiting for him to place something in their palms. Wolf shot Onel an inquisitive look.
“It is a gesture of respect and honor,” Onel said. “To drop a knee to someone other than a king is unprecedented. I have not seen it happen. There are three ways to handle this, my friend. We should stop for a moment so I can explain before we pass these men.”
They stopped walking and Onel explained: “You can ignore the warriors and pass them, which means you will not accept them to serve you. It is an insult, and some of these men will kill themselves. The second is to walk backwards past them all, which means you do not aspire to leadership, and you have no need for men at arms. The third is to touch the heads of the kneeling men and give them something of yours. This signifies that you accept their service and vow to fight for them as hard as they have sworn to fight for you. The men you touch are war-bound to you, and they will never break this oath. Only death can release them.”
“Did not these men kneel to Jonar?” Wolf asked with a trace of sarcasm.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“In my entire life, I have seen just six men kneel to anyone,” Onel said. “I am one of those six—I knelt to Waylan. The other five were men loyal to our father. They are in the Old Guard, and you will meet them soon. When our father died, they knelt to Waylan.” Looking out across the wave of men, Onel added, “To see so many men kneel is unprecedented. This respect is not offered to common leaders. These men do this for a chance to prove themselves. They will attain prominence in the eyes of other men, and if they die, they will attain eternal bliss. What you do in the next few moments will mark them for life.”
“If I accept so many men, won’t it wrong King Waylan?” Wolf asked cautiously.
“That you ask the question proves you deserve the honor,” Onel responded. “I say accept the men, but the choice is yours.”
“Look at how many kneel,” Wolf observed in wonder. “How many are there?”
Onel replied, “I do not know.”
“One thousand five hundred and twenty, Commander,” Syn said in his ear.
“I need to go to my tent for a moment,” Wolf announced. He turned and walked back to the holo-tent. When he reached Syn, he asked, “Do we have anything we can part with in mass quantity?”
“Yes, Commander, we have thousands of washers and screws of different sizes in the maintenance bay. I will get you a box of stainless steel washers. They’re about the size of a dime, but we have six boxes of them. Each box contains five thousand washers.”
“That will work, Syn. How will you get them down to me?”
Syn pulled him to the side of the tent she hadn’t yet disassembled. She had rotated the ship, and Nurse Syn dropped a small box out the bay door. It was about the size of a box of tissues. Wolf caught the box and opened it to inspect the shining pieces of steel. He then walked back to Onel and said, “I will accept the honor but only to hold these men from returning to Jonar. We will need them.”
Wolf approached the first man, touched his head, and gave him a washer. The man drew a piece of rawhide from his boot and made a necklace of the washer. For the next three hours, Wolf distributed washers. When he finished, he had over fifteen hundred new men at arms; even some of Waylan’s men vowed to serve him. Onel looked on with satisfaction, knowing the new soldiers would be a boon in the war against Jonar. After Wolf accepted the last man, he stuffed a handful of washers in his pocket and returned to Syn.
“You’d better keep these out just in case,” Wolf suggested, giving her the box of washers.
Syn took the box and set it down. She had nearly finished breaking down the tent and was storing the imaginary parts in an imaginary canvas bag when Wolf asked, “How are you going to get rid of this stuff? The eyes of everyone out here are on you.”
“I am going for a walk. I will walk into the forest with the ship trailing and disappear. No one will see me. I will have the ship hover low, so I can put the washers in the bay.”
“Okay. I want you to go into orbit as soon as possible and install the new software on the satellites. Let me know when you’ve finished.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Syn turned away, and Wolf grabbed her arm, pulling her close. He kissed her tenderly and said, “Be careful, Syn. This madman has access to technology, and I don’t want you hurt.”
Syn beamed her most dazzling smile and promised, “I will be careful, my love.”
Onel had walked up and smiled at the affectionate exchange. “Your woman will not be accompanying us to the castle?”
“No, Onel. She must return to the ship and prepare it for a possible attack.”
“I will send guards with her,” Onel offered. “Such a woman can’t be out here alone.”
“There is no need, Onel. She is tougher than I am. She will be fine by herself.”
Onel looked doubtfully at Syn, who smiled and waved. She picked up her backpack and headed off towards the woods, vanishing into the vegetation. “I hope that fine woman can take care of herself,” Onel said with a resigned shrug. “She is so beautiful, she would tempt any man to possess her.”
“He’s such a nice man,” Syn whispered in Wolf’s ear.
“Come, Onel, we have delayed long enough. She will be okay. I don’t want to make the king wait any longer than necessary. Let us report our news to him. We have gained over fifteen hundred new soldiers for him to command.”
From a hidden vantage point in the woods, eyes had been watching the exchange between Wolf and Syn through an antique spyglass. “So, the man of iron can be hurt. We have found a chink in his armor…but was it the explosion or the howler that injured him?”
A second voice replied, “He was indisposed for six hours. I had hoped it would be longer. Come, Sylvaine, let us retire to our keep to ponder this.”
An impeccably dressed black man turned, an evil smile on his lips, and headed off into the woods, accompanied by the Templar Sylvaine.
Chapter 20
Wolf and Onel proceeded up the crevasse from the main gate and then crossed over the bridge, entering the castle and going directly to the baths. An hour later, they dressed and made their way to the throne room where a feast was being prepared in Wolf’s honor. King Waylan presided over the event from his throne as the revelers talked and drank. He was still in pain from the stab wound in his side, and he was angry he had missed the battle in front of his own gates. When Wolf and Onel entered, he pushed away his pages’ helpful hands as he stood and hobbled unassisted to greet them.
Wolf extended his hand and asked, “How are you feeling, Sire?”
“I am healthy, my friend. I am an old campaigner, and I have been wounded far worse. I heard you were injured by some type of explosion?”
“Not injured, Your Majesty, but it stunned me briefly,” Wolf replied.
“Come, let us sit at the table, and you can tell me how it happened.” Waylan returned to the table and seated himself. He was perspiring from the effort it took to walk, maintaining his role as a mighty king to his loyal subjects.
“Brother, you overtax yourself again. We are no longer young men. You must rest,” Onel said, moving to Waylan’s side. He signaled a page to bring the king’s chirurgeons.
Waylan waved a dismissive hand. “You worry too much, brother. Besides, if something happens to me, you will be King Onel.”
Onel’s face blanched with anger as he admonished, “Say no such thing again! You joke with my love for you. I want only for my brother to live. I was the oldest and I could have had the scepter, but I saw in you something our land needed. This kingdom is nothing without you, and I would be even less.”
Waylan considered his br
other with a sad smile and said, “I love you too, my brother. I only mean to prepare you for what will come one day. Every day, my wounds hurt me more. I feel old age creeping upon me. I will not be able to run from death much longer. I have become slow and I stumble, while death’s steps never falter in pursuit of me. Like it or not, I fear that by the coming of the next Brown Star, you will be king of this land.”
Onel looked away, choked with emotion, and Wolf asked, “Sire, what ails you? I know your knee is injured, but what other pains do you have?”
“I have lived longer than most men. Old age is creeping upon me, and there is no cure for that. I am just growing old and weary.”
“Commander, I can scan him,” Syn said in Wolf’s ear. “The new watch is equipped with medical capabilities. The only drawback is that the scanner beam must remain on the king for five minutes, and I will need a blood sample.”
Wolf said to the king, “Sire, I have a favor to ask. It may help you to recover. But first I must ask…do you trust me?”
The king eyed Wolf thoughtfully. After a long pause, he answered, “Do I trust you? Who could stop you if you wanted my life? Yes, my friend, I trust you.”
“What you are proposing will not require my brother to travel, I hope?” Onel interjected. “I fear he is not up to moving about too much.”
“No, it will require five minutes of the king’s time and a drop of blood. Nothing more.”
“Is it witchcraft?” Onel asked, frowning.
“No, my friend, it is science.”
“Science? What is that?” Waylan and Onel inquired in unison.
“There is an explanation for why and how most things happen. When you see a bird flying in the sky, you say, ‘How does it do that?’ Science looks at the bird and says it is using its wings to catch the air to lift and soar through the sky. The next step in science is to copy it by trying different things to duplicate the effect and master it.”
“Here is another example…” Wolf pulled out his knife and picked up an iron poker from a fireplace, placing it on the end of the table. Swinging his knife into the poker’s stem, he cut the heavy iron in half with little effort. He handed the knife to Waylan and invited the king to do the same, explaining, “Science is what has allowed us to make iron better and stronger.”
