The Aeolian Master Book One Revival

by John Northern

  Ben was sitting in a chair wishing the Galaef hadn’t insisted he accompany him to that meeting with Hurd and Thorne. Is there a moral to this story?—maybe,—don’t become too friendly with politicians in high places.

  The other six runners were sitting in various locations staring into space. This time they weren't eating snacks or drinking beverages or laughing nervously.

  "Well, if it's all the same to you," said Rennie who finally couldn't stand the silence any longer, "I think this whole thing is absurd. Just think about it for a moment. Here we are in the middle of a civilized city,—you know: advanced technology, intelligent people, a fairly decent understanding of the Universe, hell we even have access to hyperspace—can you imagine that, hyperspace? And yet with all this intelligence around us we're in the middle of an absurd complex in our home city being killed by creatures imported from millions of light-years away. And the absurd part of it is,—it's on purpose."

  No one said anything.

  "Don't you think that's absurd?" He looked at Sam. "Come on Sam, don't you think it's unrealistic that an arena is built for spectators to watch other people being killed?"

  Sam pulled at his bright, red mustache and squinched his eyebrows. “Beyond absurd,” he said.

  "Absurd, yes,” said Ben, “but not unrealistic." History has taught us that there have been many rulers who have perpetrated hideous forms of unjust and unfair punishment on their subjects. Consider for a moment the history we have learned about the civilizations on Earth. Do you remember one such dynasty who fed the Christians to some sort of beast? They watched for amusement as the beast tore limbs off his prey, a man or a woman, and gnawed on their still live, quivering bodies. And there was another crazy dictator who put people into fiery ovens or poisoned them in make-believe showers."

  "That doesn't make it right," quipped Rennie.

  "I didn't say it was right," retorted Ben. "All I'm saying is it's not so unusual. It seems the criminally insane become rulers of people more often than we would like to think.

  "Yeah," said Gaal. "there's no doubt Hurd's crazy."

  Everyone became quiet again, so Ben stood up and studied the upcoming zone. It was quite a contrast to the first two zones. There were trees, bushes, vines, unusual flowers, and grass. The foliage was so dense in some areas it was impossible to see further than ten feet. A lot of life milled around in the greenery and off to the right, he could see an animal, which looked like a wild dog, standing in some tall grass. I hate jungles, he thought. And I’ve never even been in one.

  Just then the soft, feminine voice told them they must leave, and the door slid open.

  Dahms stepped out, gripped her sword, and started down the path. "Time to get mean," she said.

  As Ben walked behind her, about ten feet. Sam sidled up to him and said the most inappropriate thing, “I wonder what she would be like on a date. It’s kind of hard to imagine. She has a pretty face, a hard athletic body, long legs, blond hair, and an interesting personality. But on the other hand she might be too demanding. She always seems to take charge.”

  Ben was trying to figure out why Sam was talking nonsense in the middle of a deadly environment. But then, he considered the psychology involved when people are under severe external stress—it has an effect of bonding relationships faster than normal.

  Sam continued, “She has some kind of underlying leadership quality and everybody just seems to do whatever she says. Still she might be. . . . What the hell am I talking about?" he said a little louder. "We probably won't even make it through the third zone."

  “Yeah,” said Ben. “It sounded like you were starting to get weird on us.”

  "Don't be so negative," said Gaal. It was obvious Gaal had only heard the part about not making it through the next zone.

  Sam snickered. "You think I'm being negative? Only two people, out of what? . . . five or six hundred have ever made it through the run. And you want to be positive. Look around you. For the first time in my life I'm seeing plants, insects, and reptiles I never knew existed before today."

  Even as he finished his words he jumped back as a small snake with a green body and a bright purple head suddenly slithered away in the grass. Sam watched it to make sure it kept going in the opposite direction, but at a distance of fifteen feet the little snake quickly turned and coiled its body. Its head weaved back and forth, its tongue flicked in and out, and then its mouth opened wide while at the same time extending its neck in a rapid motion and with great force.

  Sam, watching with fascination, was almost hypnotized as the purple head danced like a reed in the wind, and then, from the mouth, there was a small flash. The snake's head drew quickly back.

  Ben was also watching the snake as it spit. He reached out and grabbed Sam by the arm and jerked him to one side allowing the venom to miss his eye by a mere two inches. It hit him on the left temple and started burning a hole in his scalp.

  "Damn," yelled Sam. He reached up and wiped away the burning venom. Small blisters began to form where the venom had touched his skin, even on his hand.

  "That little son of a bitch," he mumbled under his voice.

  “Let’s go,” said Ben. “I don’t want to wait around to see if he’s going to spit again.” They strode quickly down the trail catching up with Dhams.

  She had heard Sam yell. "What happened?" she asked as she stopped and turned to look at him.

  "That little snake with the purple head spits venom," he said.

  Dahms examined the blisters on the side of his head. "Probably the least of our worries."

  "Thanks, I'll remember that when one spits on you." Sam was half joking and half not, nevertheless Rennie loved it.

  "When one spits on you," he repeated what Sam had just said and started chuckling. He said it again under his breath and chuckled some more.

  Dahms started down the trail coming closer to the end of the grass and the beginning of the thick jungle vegetation.

  To Ben, Sam said, “I’ve seen her before, but I never knew she was second in command of the underground forces. She was in Hurd's tower when I was taking care of some business for my father. I had spoken to her once or twice, but only briefly.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Ben. “For now, let’s keep our minds on the run.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Sam slowly and unconvincingly.

  “Watch for movement,” said Dahms as she continued to lead.

  The path wound its way into the jungle. Large limbs hung over the path casting long shadows, and huge orange globes, growing in clusters on the branches, weighted them down so that some of them were almost touching the ground. The foliage was so thick it was like walking through a green fog. Most of the light was shielded making the path hard to see. The soil was moist, and there were irregularly shaped pools of swampy water on both sides and sometimes crossing the path.

  Dahms used her sword to hack at the vines and to push them aside as she progressed slowly through the dense plant life. And just like that they stepped into an open area where the lights were once again bright and this time almost blinding. The opening was about thirty yards across and all around the periphery the shrubbery was sparse and the trees were smaller. Examining the trees on the other side of the opening there were long, hanging vines, which ran back and forth overlapping each other and extending from the trees to the ground making it easy for creatures to climb to the branches and stare down at the intruders. Here and there snakes were slithering upon the limbs, their forked tongues flicked in and out. Once in awhile one would fall to the ground and disappear into the dense jungle.

  Some of the vines grew from the ground where the large green stalks were as thick as a man's leg. Little, pink orchids were growing throughout the vines, and Ben noted their scent was not sweet and fragrant as most flowers, instead it was rather fetid and quite strong. He could smell them thirty yards away.

  "Look," said Rennie. He pointed at a pile of what looked like old rusty handbeams about ten fee
t off the path in the open field. He walked over and picked one up. He put his hand about three inches in front of the lens and flipped the switch. He could see the light reflecting off his palm. "It works," he said a little amazed. "The damn thing works." He swung it around to show the others.

  Dahms walked over to examine the handbeams.

  Rennie flipped the switch to the off position and then bent down and picked up another one. He handed it to Dahms. "I bet we're going to need these for something."

  Dahms took the handbeam, turned it on to make sure it was working, and then turned it off. "You're probably right. Everyone grab one and let's go."

  Ben picked one up and hooked it to his belt.

  Sam, who was always puffing on a cigar, bit the end off, spit it out, and started fervently puffing. He picked up one of the handbeams, looked it over for a moment, and then threw it back on the pile. "Why the hell are we going to need these in the middle of a jungle?"

  Ben and Sam caught up with Dahms while the others were picking up handbeams.

  The six men, with Dahms leading, were half way across the opening when they heard a loud, almost humming or buzzing noise coming from above.

  Everyone looked up, but with the blinding lights shining directly down from the rafters, they could only make out a number of large shapes—about two feet in length and a foot in width—hovering, as if suspended in mid air.

  “What the hell is that?” said Ben.

  Sam popped the cigar out of his mouth. "Let's get out of here," he yelled. The runners bolted for the trees on the other side of the opening. They all made it into the thick foliage, and a few moments later the noise coming from the flying insects faded away and finally was gone.

  This time Ben took the lead. He used his sword to hack a snake in half that was hanging from a branch. He kicked at another one in the path and catching it in the side he sent it hurtling into the underbrush. There was a nest of strange looking insects to the left of the path, but he passed them by. While rounding a curve in the path he came upon another opening, and as he stepped out of the jungle and looked ahead he could see open spaces all the way to the safety house. “Damn good to be out of the jungle,” he said.

  Ben started across the opening, gripping his sword and waiting for the humming sound to return. But it didn't come, and as he came to a small rise, the path forked and went in different directions. The right path traveled around a pond and under a group of trees about thirty yards ahead. The path on the left side of the fork continued down to the same small pond, where it ended abruptly in the water. The pond was twenty yards across, and the path reemerged on the other side. It then joined the path that crossed under the trees and traveled on to the safety chamber.

  In the short grass to the left of the pond were hundreds of green-coiled bodies with bright purple heads waving back and forth. Spiting snakes, thought Ben. This made it impossible to go around the pond to the left. The only two choices were either through the pond or under the trees to the right of the pond.

  "I'm sure there's something here," said Dahms. "But is it in the pond or behind those trees?"

  So far they hadn’t come across anything deadly in this zone, which meant it would be any moment. The safety chamber was in sight, and not that far away. Ben scrutinized the pond. It was a dark, murky color with floating green scum and little bugs skittering back and forth feeding on the slime. Beneath the surface of the water there was another type of bug, about ten inches long and black with little legs and antennae. Its head was yellow, tapering into a stripe down the back.

  Sam saw it too, "Look at that little bastard," he said. "Could be poisonous."

  The humming-buzzing returned and was getting louder. Something was coming fast over the trees. Ben and the other runners whirled around and looked up. Forty yards behind and forty feet above them five insects came flying toward them. As they came speeding closer he could see their bodies were more than two feet long and their wingspans, from tip to tip, were at least four feet. Two beady eyes on two-inch stalks protruded from their heads. Their bodies were long and slender, coming to a taper with what appeared to be a stinger at the end. And then he saw the fangs. He had never seen insects with teeth. “What planet did these come from?”

  “They’re from the planet Ocianna, and they’re called Mooregangers,” yelled Gaal. “They’re very fast, and their stingers are poisonous.”

  They came lower until they were just above their heads and just out of reach.

  "Form a circle," yelled Dahms. But the sound from the creatures' wings was so loud that it drowned out her voice.

  The lead insect made a direct assault on Jos. It was so fast and so unexpected that no one had a chance to react, and before anyone could do anything, it formed a 'C' shape bringing its stinger forward from behind and plunged it into Jos' chest.

  The thing sunk its teeth into his face and hung on with ferocity. Harold raised his sword, and hacked the nightmarish insect in half. "Damn this thing," he yelled and he kept hacking and hacking at the insect.

  Sam grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. "It's dead," he said.

  Harold looked up and yelled at the cameras. "Hurd, you God damn bastard, you're going to die!" His voice all but choked and then he looked down at Jos who was still alive, but barely.

  Paying no attention to the insects still hovering above their heads. Harold kneeled down. Jos tried to say something, but could only stammer meaningless sounds. Blood was oozing from the wounds, but it wasn't the loss of blood that was killing him, rather it was the poison from the insect’s stinger. His skin turned a light yellow and then his tongue swelled and turned black. He took a long slow breath and finally let out the death rattle.

  Sam grabbed Harold under the arm and stood him up. "They're still up there," he said pointing with his sword at the four remaining insects.

  Ben could see the anger and frustration, the hate and the sorrow all at the same time in Harold's face. “Get ready for another attack,” yelled Ben over the droning.

  Ben and Gaal put their backs to Dahms’ as they watched the insects.

  "They act like they're trying to protect their young," yelled Sam.

  "That’s right,” yelled Gaal. “That’s the only time they’ll attack a human. They probably have a nest close by."

  "Who the hell cares?" retorted Harold.

  The insects flew to a height of twenty feet above the heads of the runners and formed into a ‘V’ shape like a flock of birds. Their moves were coordinated as they came closer. The noise from their wings was almost deafening which made it not only difficult to hear, but difficult to concentrate.

  The lead insect moved slightly below the others, then dove for Ben’s chest. But this time Ben was ready for it. As the insect made its ‘C’ shape he quickly stepped to the side and at the same time struck with his sword. The stinger was severed and fell squirming to the ground. The flight of the insect was forced awry by the blow of the sword, but it turned in mid air, backtracked, and continued its attack. It butted Ben’s chest several times with its stub. It was obviously senseless to pain, and it was in the midst of dying, but didn't know it.

  Gaal grabbed a wing and flung it to the ground. He and Sam crushed out its life with the heels of their running shoes.

  "That probably cost Hurd ten thousand tal," Gaal said.

  Craning his neck so he could watch the insects, Ben used his free hand and wiped away a blue oozing slime off his chest where the insect had tried to sting him without a stinger. Then he pulled the short sword from the sheath and waited.

  One of the three remaining insects broke formation and acting as a decoy flew in front of Dahms. While Ben turned his head over his shoulder to watch, Sam turned to face the attack, and he and Dahms raised their swords. But as it brought itself into the 'C' shape, within just a few feet of Dahms, it suddenly stopped short. While it had the runners' attention, the other two broke formation. One came in from the side, and the other came from behind.

 
Unknown to Sam, by turning to help Dahms, he had exposed his back to an assault. One of them dove for his back while the other attacked Ben from the side.

  Ben saw them coming and shouted a warning to Sam, but the noise was so loud he was unable to hear it, and even if he had heard it he wouldn’t have been able to turn in time.

  Seeing this and knowing Sam was about to die, Harold stepped between the stinger and Sam's back. He didn't have time to kill the thing, but he did have time to stop Sam from being killed. He slashed with his sword, but missed.

  Sam was still watching the other insect in front of Dahms as Harold took the stinger in the right lung. He heard Harold's cry and whirled around in time to see the insect pull free and fly out of sword’s range.

  At the same time Ben, being assaulted by the other insect, was able to twist fast enough to avoid the stinger. It missed by less than an inch. Ben thrust his sword into the insect's abdomen and leaned further to the left. One of the wings hit Ben in the face with a rapid flap, flap, flap. He brought up the short sword in his left hand and turning to the right while falling toward the ground he swung the sword around in an arc and severed the stinger from its body. He fell to his left shoulder and held on to his right sword while the bug continued to beat its wings against the air. Ben sat up and flung the pinioned insect into the open field. It continued to flop around until Dahms ran over and cut it in half.

  The insect that had wounded Harold, flew higher up and joined formation with the one that had acted as a decoy. They hovered for a few seconds as they appraised the situation. The other three insects were lying dead on the ground, blue ooze seeping into the soil. Finally, as if realizing they had done all the damage they could do and possibly discourage any assault on their nest, they flew back into the foliage.

  Ben stood up and looked down at Harold. He could see his skin turning a light yellow and his muscles were twitching in uncontrollable spasms, and although Ben knew he was in agony there seemed to be a slight smile on his lips. As his tongue turned black and started to protrude due to the swelling he simply closed his eyes and died.

  Sam knelt beside Harold for a moment and placed his hand on his shoulder. "If I get out of this, I'll take care of your family," he said softly. "I'll also make sure that Hurd is taken care of."

  Jos and Harold lie on the ground. Their bodies were bloated, and their black tongues protruded from their mouths. Ben remembered something a religious man once said. ‘When we’re finished with our human suits, we leave them behind and move on to a better place.’ Ben hoped he was right.

  “Which way?” asked Rennie as he looked at the two paths.

  Ben studied the tree, then the pond. “Remember what you said about always going to the left,” he said.

  "I'm not sure it's the right way," replied Dahms, "since we’ve already encountered the major threat in this zone it might not matter which way we go. And quite frankly as I look at the pond I keep imagining poisonous snakes or a carnivorous underwater creature who could inflict a deadly wound."

  But Ben knew better, and he started for the pond. “If you look under the tree you’ll see a worn spot in the grass as if something is running around beneath it. Personally I’d rather not meet it face to face.”

  Dahms considered it for a moment. "I see your point," she said.

  “That’s right,” said Sam as he stroked his red mustache and glared at the tree.

  “I’ll try this way first,” said Ben. "If I don't make it through the pond, then you'll know to go the other way."

  “You’d think the giant insects would have been enough for this zone,” said Sam.

  Ben stopped at the edge and peered into the water looking for anything big and monstrous, or anything small and suspicious. “Each zone becomes more difficult,” he said. He slapped the surface with the flat of his sword a couple of times causing the bugs to skitter away from the turmoil. The green slime rose and fell in ripples, but nothing else moved. It was too murky to see deeper than a foot from the surface, so he stuck his sword through the slime and quickly agitated the water. Still nothing happened. He drew his short sword, and with a sword in each hand he stepped into the pond. As he forged ahead the little pond dropped off, becoming deep, quite rapidly. After three steps he was already up to his waist and two more steps, up to his shoulders. He pushed his left foot forward and stepped down. The water was now slapping against his face and little bugs were scurrying to get out of his way. Green slime was clinging to one ear as he stretched his head and face upward to keep the water out of his mouth and nose. With his sword now under the water he probed around in front feeling for any unknown creature. He picked up his right foot to push it forward when something suddenly grabbed it and started to pull—not too strong, but enough to cause him to jerk his foot upward while striking down with his sword. He started to strike again when he realized his foot had simply gotten caught in a clump of moss.

  He pushed his right foot toward the bottom and felt around, then started forward again. After ten yards, near the middle of the pond, the bottom leveled, and began to slope up. The mud on the bottom was slippery, which made walking difficult, but he finally emerged on the other side and stood dripping water and wiping slime off his shoulders and arms.

  "It's all clear," he said.

  Of the remaining four, Sam was the first to step into the pond. With the sword in his right hand he began stabbing the water in front of him. He edged his way toward the center of the pond keeping alert to anything that might want to eat him. Finally, as the pond became too deep for him to keep his head out of the water he sheathed his sword and began to dog paddle.

  After he had gone another five feet Dahms stepped into the murky pond, and then came Gaal, followed by Rennie.

  "The water's nice and cool," said Rennie. He splashed some of the water in his face to wash away the sweat.

  Ben waited for them. And Sam had just reached the bank of the pond, and was giving Dahms a hand when a loud, high-pitched wailing scream brought everyone to a standstill. They quickly turned and looked at the trees near the far edge of the pond.

  A hideous six-foot monstrosity covered with shiny, grey scales came crashing out of the bushes next to the tree. Its jaws opened wide showing large, yellow teeth with fangs protruding down from the top row.

  Ben raised both swords getting ready for the attack.

  Sam pulled Dahms from the pond and joined Ben just as the thing started running at them.

  "A sword won't penetrate that hide," he yelled. "Aim for the eyes."

  The beast came to a sudden halt. Around its neck was a metal collar, a blue-green sheen in color. From it a long chain extended and disappeared behind the tree.

  Gaal and Rennie stepped onto the bank.

  "Only for those who take the other path," said Gaal.

  "Looks like you were right," said Dahms.

  Rennie didn't say anything. He was still shaken. His face was white and perspiration began to drip from his forehead.

  Ben watched as the monster's jaws snapped shut and then opened again. Hiding behind his tree waiting for the right moment to jump on his victims, he had undoubtedly eaten some of the unsuspecting runners. “He’s probably developed a taste for humans,” said Ben.

  Sam said, "In my opinion that thing's too ugly to keep on living." And before anyone realized what he was doing, Sam charged the beast at a full run.

  Dahms held her breath for a second, then yelled, "What the hell are you doing? Stop!

  Sam could see that the beast was still at the end of the chain, stretching it tight. Without realizing it the beast was making himself completely defenseless.

  Sam jumped in the air and ran his sword through the beast’s eye and into his brain. He stepped back rending the sword free. He looked toward the ceiling. "Import another one of these," he yelled.

  The beast fell heavily to the ground with blood spurting from the eye socket.

  Ben looked toward the rafters as a crackling voice came over the loudsp
eaker.

  It was Hurd, and he was angry. "May your sister rot in the Zi pits. That Yulni cost me one hundred thousand tal!" There was a slight pause, then, "I'm going enjoy watching you die!" The loudspeaker clicked off.

  Dahms patted Sam on the back, and then to the group she whispered, “There’s a good chance Hurd won’t be watching us die.”

  “You must know something,” said Sam, “because that’s the second time you’re made reference to us making it through, but I won’t ask, and as for Hurd, his time will eventually come. It might not be my doing, but someone will take him out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four