Atlantia Series 1: Survivor (22 page)

‘The core is intact,’ he said. ‘That’s our chance. If Captain Sansin can regian control of the Atlantia, which I’m sure he’ll try to do, then he’ll want to get that core back. If we can get to it they can pick us up at the same time.’

Cutler stared at Andaim for a long moment, and then he began to laugh. The convicts around him chuckled, some of them casting sneers at Andaim as they did so.

Cutler strode toward Andaim to stand toe–to–toe with him, his features twisted with malice as he spoke.

‘And what, lieutenant, makes you think that any one of us wants to go back to that wreck of a ship?’

Andaim’s jaw hung slack as he tried to speak.

‘You want to stay here?’ he finally gasped.

‘Well give the man a bone,’ Cutler replied. ‘You’re smarter than you look. We got a planet here that can support us. We got debris that we can fashion into homes, a fusion core that can become a power source, and best of all? Nobody knows that we survived. As long as we’re believed dead, nobody’s going to find us.’

Andaim shook his head. ‘Look about you, Cutler. There’s nothing out here.’

‘There’s nothin’ up there either,’ Cutler replied. ‘And there sure as hell won’t be once the Word arrives, ain’t that right boys?’

The convicts rumbled their agreement, their gazes turning dark as they watched Andaim, a physical embodiment of everything that they had fought against and a society that had rejected and punished them not just once, but for all eternity.

‘This isn’t going to work,’ Andaim said.

‘Not with you here, no,’ Cutler replied and then raised his voice so that everybody could hear him. ‘I’d say food’s a little scarce on the ground here boys, what say we make our dinner march with us?’

The convict’s chortled with grim humour as Cutler tossed a set of manacles at Andaim.

‘Seriously?’ Andaim uttered. ‘This is your idea of a plan?’

‘We’ll take the core for ourselves,’ Cutler announced both to Andaim and to the convicts. ‘Along with any other technical equipment and weapons we can find in the debris. As long as nobody alerts the Atlantia to our presence, we’ll be safe. Then we’ll seek out somewhere more habitable to enjoy our stay.’

Qayin’s voice rumbled above the chorus of agreements.

‘And which way are those more habitable climes, Cutler?’

Cutler did not reply. Instead, he raised his pistol and pointed it at Qayin’s head.

‘Nobody’s asking you, Qayin,’ he snarled.

‘I’m asking
you
,’ Qayin shot back. ‘You don’t got a plan, do you? You’re all bluster and boasting.’

‘Least I ain’t no traitor, Qayin.’

The convicts rumbled threateningly, some of them wielding slivers of metal sheared from the debris during the crash, makeshift handles of torn fabric wrapped around the ends, fashioned by the ever resourceful prisoners. The crude blades flashed in the bright sunlight.

‘Seriously?’ Qayin grumbled. ‘You’re still going with that?’

‘You walked,’ Cutler shot back. ‘You left us on that prison hull to die and saved yourself. So much for the Mark of Qayin, it’s now the mark of a coward.’

Qayin snarled at Cutler, who gestured with a flick of his pistol toward the weapon Qayin held in his hand.

‘Drop it, or I swear I’ll put a shot in both your heads right here and now. Neither of you are necessary, Qayin.’

‘Do it,’ Andaim whispered harshly to Qayin. ‘We can’t do anything right now.’

‘There ain’t no
we
,’ Qayin growled back at him.

The giant convict stared at Cutler for a moment longer and then he raised his hands and deactivated the pistol.

‘All right, Cutler,’ he said. ‘Have it your way.’

Cutler stepped forward as Qayin dropped the pistol at his feet and stepped back from it. The convict picked the weapon up and grinned cruelly as he called behind him.

‘Fasten them up boys!’

The convicts rushed forward and manacled both Andaim and Qayin. As soon as they were restrained, Cutler looked out toward the towering pillar of smoke and flame.

‘Let’s go,’ he shouted.

As then convicts moved off, Andaim whispered to Qayin.

‘This is insane. Even if he recovers the core and controls it, what the hell does he intend to do with it?’

‘Protection against the Word,’ Qayin guessed. ‘He’s set on staying here and letting the Atlantia sail away or be defeated.’

‘That core is useless without something to contain it and direct its energy. Right now, it’s a greater danger to us than to anything else.’

Qayin had no reply for the lieutenant, and so remained silent. They walked for hours as the sun sank toward the horizon behind them, the skyline a trembling sea of molten metal and the endless desert stark against the bright sky. Andaim, his head swimming and aching with dehydration, managed to maintain a steady pace as the hours wound on but he heard others behind him stumbling and struggling to walk as the heat drained them of precious fluids.

‘You’re killing us, Cutler,’ Andaim croaked as they walked. ‘Just a sure and fast as the Word will when it finds us all.’

Cutler did not reply, marching ever onward beneath the blazing sky.

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, the cloying heat fading when Andaim smelled the odour of water drifting upon the air across the lonely deserts. Trees, their leaves strange and long and their trunks layered, sprouted forth in a sprawling oasis of green as the little caravan was led toward the water.

Andaim struggled up a low sloping dune and before him a spectacular sight unfolded. A vast, shallow river valley dominated the desert canvass, green water sparkling in the sunlight and surrounded by dense ranks of trees on both banks.

The convicts stared at the oasis in awe and then began running down toward it as Andaim glanced over his shoulder. Qayin hawked up a globule of phlegm and spat it out into the sand at his feet.

‘How the hell did he manage that?’ he asked.

Their captors shoved them in their backs and they were forced to descend the other side of the dune and join the animal trail that led toward the oasis.

‘I don’t know,’ Andaim replied, ‘but you can bet that everything else that lives here will be at that watering hole, and I’m not keen to find out what predators survive on this planet.’

***

The beast snarled at Evelyn as she jabbed the driftwood at it, its fangs bared and its eyes screwed up in fury.

She had not realised just how massive the predators were until she had gotten close to them, each creature twice as long as a man and standing high enough to reach her hips. Thick claws on their feet were likewise bared, and they were trying to flank her on either side but seemed reluctant to enter the water. Each time they moved alongside her she backed away into the waves and they were forced to retreat.

Evelyn’s arms ached with the effort of holding the driftwood out in front of her with the sodden mass of venomous tissue dangling from the end, and her legs were weak with fatigue and a lack of proper sleep. She needed water and rest, but she knew damned well that as soon as she showed any sign of weakness the beasts would be upon her in a frenzy of fangs and claws.

One of them grew bolder and splashed into the shallow water at the shoreline, one giant paw swinging out toward the driftwood to bat it aside and attack. Evelyn jerked back out of reach, pulled the driftwood into her side as the paw swiped past and then lunged forward and drove the damp tissue straight into the predator’s face.

The thick, slimy tentacles draped themselves briefly across the animal’s nostrils and eyes, and a primal fear bolted through Evelyn’s guts as the creature let out a horrendous roar and jerked its thickly maned head away. The animal staggered onto the beach, driving its face into the sand and twisting its body in agony as it smashed one paw against its snout in an attempt to relieve itself from its pain.

Evelyn turned to the remaining three animals, none of which had fled despite the effect of the weapon on their companion. Their sandy–coloured flanks were lean and Evelyn could see the shape of bones beneath the muscles and skin. The animals were hungry and Evelyn was too tempting a morsel to abandon so easily.

They stayed away from the tip of the driftwood, pacing back and forth before the shoreline. Evelyn staggered against the strength of the rollers, and with a start she realised that she was much closer to the dunes than she had been a few hours before. The tide was coming in, much as it had done on Caneeron as the gravity of its moons pulled at the world’s oceans. She looked up and glimpsed the small moon in the blue sky now almost overhead and the sun much lower in the sky, and cursed.

The dunes and bluff were only a few dozen cubits away, at which point she would have no choice but to return to dry land or drown in the churning ocean. Her legs were already numb with cold and before long her skin would start to blister and tear against the rocks and stones embedded in the sand beneath her feet.

Evelyn looked at the predators. She knew that many of the largest land carnivores on Caneeron, especially the Shrey’k, could be warded off both by fire and by the understanding that for whatever reason a prey was sufficiently dangerous to be avoided rather than hunted. Although not especially intelligent the Shrey’k had become conditioned to avoiding humans because they were so difficult to hunt and able to defend themselves. The only ones that veered from this general rule were the starving, the injured, those protecting young and those that had never before encountered a human.

Evelyn could see no young animals watching the hunt, no injuries and only hunger in the animal’s eyes, not life–threatening starvation. In contrast, the animal that she had wounded was now far away down the beach and still thrashing at itself.

Evelyn steeled herself and advanced, moving to the right of the three animals with the driftwood held before her as she rushed out of the deeper water and charged one of the smaller animals.

The creature snarled and hissed as it leaped back out of range, one paw swiping at the driftwood. Evelyn lowered it and the animal’s paw whipped over the top as she then lunged again and jammed the poisonous tissue into the animal’s side.

Another roar of agony pierced the air and the predator darted away, smashing into one of its companions in its haste and knocking it over. Evelyn charged further, ramming the driftwood directly into the creature’s hind quarters. The animal shrieked in agony and leaped away from her in a run that swiftly faltered as its hind legs gave way and it dragged itself across the sand with its fore legs, howling in pain.

Evelyn searched for the remaining beast, and her heart sank and her legs bowed with fear as she realised that it had slunk between her and the water’s edge. It prowled through the churning foam, its head low and its fangs bared as it turned toward her. Evelyn whipped the driftwood around and pointed it at the creature, and with a guttural cry she did the only thing that she could think of and charged toward it.

The animal snarled in surprise as it jerked back and away from Evelyn and plunged into the deeper water. Evelyn lunged forward and smashed the driftwood against the creature’s exposed flank. It screamed a high–pitched howl of pain as it crashed into the waves and tried to swim away.

Evelyn took her chance and turned as she crashed out of the water and ran in a low, weary gait up the beach. She reached the bluff and scrambled back up it, then turned back breathlessly to look down at the water’s edge.

The creature in the water was thrashing at its flank, claws and fangs tearing at the flesh as it tried to attack its own pain. Two other animals were further down the beach, one of them laying motionless on the sand and the other sniffing at it while swiping occasionally at its own head. Much farther away, the body of the biggest animal lay on its side, twitching sporadically.

Evelyn reached down and grabbed huge handfuls of the damp green foliage and hauled them across her body. Despite the cold she knew that once out in the deserts her greatest threat would be the heat. Then she turned and struck out, her body drenched and the air noticeably cooler that before. As she walked, trying to put as much distance between herself and her tormentors as possible in case they recovered from the poison, she saw ahead the pillar of smoke and flame striking up into the hard blue sky.

She shielded her eyes against the flare of the desert sand and sun as she walked, and for a moment she watched the rippling light casting its brilliant beam of energy.

Evelyn gasped as she realised what she was seeing: the fusion core, exposed and blazing like a beacon. If the Atlantia could see the core, and the captain had control, he would almost certainly send a shuttle down to retrieve it.

New hope surged adrenaline through Evelyn’s veins and she strode faster, careful not to touch the poisonous tissue dangling from the driftwood as she held it upright and used it as a staff.

Alone, she vanished into the trembling heat haze rippling across the horizon.

***

‘Captain on the bridge!’

Bra’hiv’s deeply bellowed command announced Hevel’s arrival. The new captain strode to sit in his chair and surveyed the crew as he scanned the various screens set into his chair.

‘Is the ship ready?’ he demanded.

‘Things are underway sir,’ Bra’hiv replied. ‘Repairs are being made and I’ll begin preparing the men for battle and to repel boarders, or whatever else comes our way.’

Hevel nodded. ‘What of Idris Sansin?’

‘He and the command crew remain in custody sir,’ Bra’hiv replied. ‘They have made no complaints or demands.’

‘That’s not like him,’ Hevel said thoughtfully. ‘It likely means that he’s up to something.’

‘He can hardly do much,’ Bra’hiv replied. ‘He’s locked in the holding cells with C’rairn and the others.’

‘And you have no problem with C’rairn allying himself with the captain?’ Hevel asked. ‘He is one of your marines, after all.’

‘I command the marines,’ Bra’hiv replied, ‘but their loyalty to the captain is strong.’

‘He has loyalty outside of the bridge too,’ Dhalere pointed out as she joined them. ‘The civilians are restless. They don’t understand what’s happening here. They think that we’re committing suicide, and until we make our stand they won’t realise what we’re capable of.’