Elementis 1: The Heir to the Stone (29 page)

Twain eyed up his next move, and he reached his hand up, stretching out. He saw the perfect grip hold, it was just a finger-nail's width too far out of reach. He peered down for a new foot-hold. He would have to plant his foot in a rut below which he could comfortably step across to and hope that it didn't give as he pushed up to grab a hold of the mocking rock that would see him swing safely to the next unit. He wiped his sweaty right palm against his trousers and swung his leg across to the foot hold, testing it with a gentle push down before he transferred his weight. He pushed off with his left leg, let go with his left hand, and shifted his weight onto the tiny ledge. The foothold slipped away from the rock face; Twain had no grip. His stomach dropped, all of his blood rushed to his head. His right hand whipped up and wrapped around the target rock. He hung, swaying as he caught his breath.

A noise in the distance thundered up the walls of the valley. The rock face began to tremble, sending loose stone falling down onto Twain's face and body. He couldn't believe the tectonic plates had chosen this moment to have a seismic reshuffle while he was clinging for life on the edge of a cliff. He had a short jump to the conveyor belt but he had no foot-hold; he also had no choice. He held onto the rock with both hands and began to swing from side to side. As soon as he had enough momentum he pulled up with what little muscle he had and flew across, landing with a solid jump onto the conveyor belt.

The cythereans inside cowered from the quake, hardly noticing a young boy drop in on them. Twain wondered what the noise was in the distance; the ground never usually shook for this long. He ignored the falling shrapnel and looked down the valley and out across the desert towards the forest. He hadn't realised it before, but from where he was, high in the valley, he could see Mercron's claws scratching up to the sky out of the trees in the distance. His eyes were playing up. The claws looked as if they were moving. Twain gawped as he watched Mercron rise taller and taller above the trees. The entire structure was lifting out of the ground.

*

Hawk was closer to the city than Twain. He and the few Guard that were with him relaxed on the heat-absorbing roof of their ship when Mercron reared its ugly body. They saw the claws rumbling upwards, watching in disbelief as the city grew from the ground, towering even higher above them. The surface of the beast seemed alive, transforming from the smooth silver skin that looked good enough to slide down to being covered with thousands of what appeared to be gun stations. A few ground-shaking moments later and Mercron was airborne a giant clawed hand flying through the sky. Hawk and the soldiers couldn't take their eyes away from it.

*

Twain was joined at the edge of the drop by a few curious cythereans. They watched the heat waves of Mercron's boosters lift the city above the trees. None of them had ever considered that such a monster could fly. They looked at each other, speechless.

Twain broke the silence. "Credit where credit’s due," he said, "that is pretty cool!"

*

King Uly walked with a renewed purpose onto the command deck of the Tylis. Jonas followed behind his father. The bright, clean look of the deck gave it a well-organised feeling. The floating screens in front of the flight officers were sharp holograms, directed by swiping hands and pokes.

Uly took his place next to Qotu. "Broadcast to the ship commander," he said, more telling than asking.

Qotu looked worryingly at Uly but still began tapping the buttons on a control pad to prepare the broadcast. "What is it, Uly?" he asked.

Uly peered up at the floating outline of the screen, waiting for his own face to appear. "There's a slight change of plan," he told his new ally.

Qotu pressed one last button and Uly appeared on the screen above them and on every screen throughout the ship. He watched himself talking, keeping his speech to the point. "The enemy were delayed in returning to Aquilla. We are right behind them, prepare for attack. We will destroy the Nangus."

The broadcast ended. "Destroy it?" Jonas said. "Father, Willow is on that ship!"

"And your brother," said the king, knowing what sacrifices had to be made in order to win this war.

"What about protecting the innocent minds of the dydrid?" Jonas said, appealing to his father's kinder nature.

Uly stood firm. "We have passed that point."

"Father, please!?"

"I am sorry, son," Uly said, shaking his head at his boy. Jonas had a look of defiance in his eye. He walked backwards, away from his father. He turned and left the command deck.

Alarms rang out across the Tylis. Airqian pilots and Cytherean Guard pushed past each other in the corridors, rushing for their allocated stations. The size of the ship and the sheer number of fighters parked in the hull meant that every pilot had their own fighter-deck number to get to, and under the kings orders to attack no one wanted to be the last to man their ship.

The protectors were amongst the first to arrive on fighter-deck fifty-nine. A wall of helmets made up one entire side of the deck. Spectrum, Menace and Goldheart grabbed their battlesigned helmets from the wall. The protectors were just about to jump onto the ship-transporter lift when Jonas ran onto the deck, wearing the green flight suit of the airq. They stood and smiled as Jonas grabbed his helmet and slid it on running across to join them.

A voice called out to him from behind, "Jonas!" It was his father's voice.

"Father!" he said, spinning around to see him standing on deck.

The king walked closer. "Your friends will be fine without you."

Jonas took off his helmet. "Father, I have to fight," Jonas begged, the thought of not doing so crushed his soul.

"No, son, you have to live," Uly said, placing an arm on his shoulder. "Say goodbye to your protectors."

Jonas was silent, dismayed that his father did not want him to fight. Annoyed that he thought so little of his flying ability that he assumed he would be killed for certain.

The king nodded towards the protectors, "Good luck everyone," he said, as he turned and walked back across the flight deck and out through the sliding doors.

Jonas placed his helmet back on the wall, stroking his fingers down its white shell, hoping that his father would return and say it was okay to join his friends in battle. After all that he had been through, now, when the battle was here to be won, his father stopped him from being a part of it. Jonas didn't understand.

Spectrum walked up behind Jonas. "The king is right," he said.

Menace moved forward, "It would be over if we lost you, Spider," she said.

All four protectors stood to attention and presented Jonas with a salute. He raised a stiff right arm and gripped his left hand around his energy-star, returning the salute. The protectors ran into the glass lift and slid away to their fighters, replaced by an empty glass lift, leaving Jonas alone on the flight deck.

*

King Uly stood back beside Qotu. The airq had always been excellent traders with the cythereans; they were their biggest consumers of compressed nitrogen and oxygen gases, constantly needed to assist in replenishing the dying quantities on their home planet of Atar. Qotu knew too well that if the Zohr took full control of the trade moons then their planet would more than likely not be able to sustain life for more than another 200 years. And the struggles that would develop in food provisions and natural life would no doubt lead to civil unrest and the destruction of their civilization much quicker than that. It meant everything to the leader of the airq that they should win this battle. The promise of owning the seven trade moons meant an eternal lifeline for their planet and a richer life than they already had.

The only problem with the airq was their tendency for greed; they only ever thought of themselves or of their riches. Even agreeing to become a secret hideaway for the king had cost the cythereans one free shipment of gas. King Uly would have been much closer to the race if their greed had not been so great. But since Uly was now forever in their debt and Qotu knew the powers of which the cythereans were capable, the alliance was now firmly agreeable to both of them.

An airqian officer with Khit stitched into his name badge approached Qotu and the king. He stood to attention in front of them. "Almost in range of the Nangus commander, we will reach them before they enter Aquilla," he reported.

"Good, make final preparations for the fighter assault," Qotu said, nodding in recognition. Officer Khit stood down and hurried back to resume his patrol behind his team of data analysts.

Jonas walked onto the command deck, holding back his disappointment, "Qotu, can the Tylis get a fighter reading of the Nangus?" he said.

"Don’t worry Jonas, we outnumber them ten to one, they don’t stand a chance!" said Qotu, brimming with confidence. Jonas wasn't sure how he felt about that.

*

The Zohr watched the silver-eared head of one of his crewmen walking around the lower deck side and up the steps towards the front of his throne. "They are gaining quickly, my Zohr. It’s an airqian koble ship, 100,000 fighters," the crewman said, bowing down but not daring to make eye contact. The image of the Tylis reappeared from the holopad with a mid-air animation of the fighters breaking free from the hull.

"Where is Mercron?" the Zohr said, with a hint of irritation.

"We are entering the Valo System now. The city is moments away," the crewman advised.

The Zohr waved the crewman away. "Then I am not concerned with this," he said, sneering at the Tylis in front of him. "The fire-power of Mercron alone will destroy them."

*

The claws of Mercron burned red through the inner atmosphere of Aquilla, heading towards its master. Mercron's towers had been the tallest ever built on planet Aquilla and yet the space city had grown three fold out of the dark pit in which its secret was hidden. The size of the flying city was lost in the vastness of space, it was certain though; there was no other machine as intimidating anywhere in the universe.

*

Uly, Jonas and Qotu stood in silence, awaiting final confirmation of the attack. Officer Khit called out to them. "We are within range," he said, turning away from a data-screen and back again to observe the readings of the Nangus in relation to their positioning.

"Launch fighters," Qotu said, somehow managing not to let the words stick in his worried throat.

"Launching fighters in three… two… one…" said officer Khit, feeding into the final command, "fighters away!"

A hissing sound of released steam and ghostly echoes of sealing vacuums moved through the ship. And outside in dark space as if by some gravity-defying, invisible force, the Tylis shattered in slow motion into thousands of pieces in a mass exodus of fighters. Blue boosters lit up as the fighters arranged themselves into one exquisite squadron, flying wing to wing and belly to hatch. The jagged body of the Nangus was in every one of their sights.

Spectrum tapped away at buttons on his dash, configuring the koble's communications systems, setting one button for the protectors and another to speak with all fighters. The pressure of leading every fighter out there would have made most men sweat themselves into dehydration. Not one sign of perspiration made its way out of the pores of Spectrum's forehead. He pressed the button for the protectors. "No heroics out here, Lucas. Keep your guns on the engines."

Menace's voice came through. "When did he ever do what he was told?" she said, not even knowing why Spectrum was trying to get Cortex to do something sensible.

Cortex activated his communications in response. "If I have to take out a few hundred dydrips at the same time as saving the world, so be it!" he said, full of his usual zest.

Cortex's mouth always amused Goldheart, the humour of the lad and his gungho approach to even something as serious as this never failed to draw a smile. With the view in front however, Goldheart wasn't smiling, he was too overwhelmed. "I don’t care what you do!" he said, filling his eyes with the sight of the surrounding allied fighters approaching an enemy he had wanted to crush ever since he could crawl. "This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!"

Spectrum pressed the communications-to-all button. "Ready to engage, enemy fighters approaching," he commanded.

Every man answered in an instant. "Ready to engage," returned one unified voice.

The king, Jonas and Qotu held an uneasy stare watching the floating voxels of the holographic radar, as rows of uniformed blue dots edged further away from the sphere of the Tylis, drawing closer to the sparse covering of the red-dotted shadow-walkers who guarded the rear of the Nangus.

Officer Khit called out, "Combat commencing any second!"

Everyone's eyes were fixed to the radar, as blue and red inched closer together. The edge of Valo materialised, dwarfing the Nangus as it edged close to the side of the star.

Spectrum's eyes focused with honor through the visor of his helmet. The speeding wall of enemy fighters coming for him made him think how proud his parents would be to see him leading such a magnificent charge. He pressed his communications button, placed his hand back on his flight stick and said the word. "Engage!"

The darkness was gifted light as one towering unit of koble fighters unleashed their laser cannons followed by a shower of shadow-seeker missiles to finish off the dydrid fighters only partially wounded by the bolts of fire. Qotu had been right in what he'd told Jonas; the dydrid didn't stand a chance. The first attack destroyed every enemy fighter out there. Once the flashes of light had cleared there wasn't a single red voxel left on the radar. The armada of koble fighters rumbled through the turbulence of metal debris left floating by the doomed walkers and the pathway to the Nangus was clear. The ship ran through space like a gutless coward, thrusting towards the closest trade moon. The koble fighters turned up their energides, speeding up to hunt down the Zohr.