Sunlord (23 page)

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Authors: Ronan Frost

BOOK: Sunlord
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A long tense interval of static followed as the guard
processed this for what seemed like a long time. Shaun felt blood
rush to his head and a feeling of dread stole over his heart. Had
they been found?

He breathed a sigh of relief as the guard rolled
backwards, freeing their path. The tank responded instantaneously
and jerked forward with brutal power.

On the radar Shaun saw they were nearing the main
complex. Then all of a sudden the image before him cleared as the
tank broke through the blinding dust. In the space of a few metres
the ferocious wind reduced into silence as they entered the eye of
the artificial cyclone. Rows of building confronted them on all
sides, nested into each other like a bee hive. Pods and scout craft
squatted on the baked earth, nestled into hangers like larvae. The
entire structure looked impenetrable and firm, as if bolted in
place to stand the full ravages of time. But Shaun knew that every
component was able to retract into its root structure and pack into
cargo ships, to be back in orbit within the space of hours.

Shaun spoke over his shoulder to the anxiously
awaiting Eloprin.

"Get ready, I think we're going to have some
company."

The tank rushed past the structures, coming scant
inches from the tips of some buildings. Even though he knew the
computer would not make a mistake Shaun found himself clutching the
arms of the chair in the expectation of a collision.

A few other vehicles pulled out in from of the tank,
other zipping past and down side streets. Even though it looked
chaotic, a traffic policeman's nightmare, the computer had
everything under control.

The tank's computer guidance turned the tank in a
ninety degree left-hand turn to leave the main road. It seemed they
were fast approaching the hospital, where the computer thought it
would unload its cargo of wounded Sunlords. They were in the heart
of the complex, deep behind enemy lines, yet Shaun knew as long as
he let the computer drive them around they were in no danger of
detection.

They travelled for a further few minutes, and Shaun
became puzzled as the sheer size of the establishment sunk in. It
seemed the Hartrias were setting up a major base, complete with
trench lines, perimeter gun turrets and infantry tents.

His thoughts froze as a Sunlord trooper dressed in an
armoured pressure suit stepped forward into their path, his
six-fingered hand raised in a halt gesture, the other brandishing a
hefty looking rifle. This was real danger, for a Sunlord would see
what the robotic sentry had not.

Shaun hesitated for a brief second before decidedly
reaching over the control board and flicking a master switch. It
was time for some manual intervention.

Shaun rammed the throttle slider to its maximum,
jamming it against the stop. The tank's engine responded instantly
as it shot forward with an animal like roar, lurching Shaun into
the padding of the seat and sending his native companions skidding
over the polished floor.

The Sunlord trooper learned the last and most
important lesson of his life; never stand in the way of a tank. He
disappeared beneath the heavy tracks, jolting the massive vehicle
slightly.

Speed and momentum built as the heavy duty engine
roared. Shaun pushed the trackball left and the tank responded
quickly to skid around the corner on one track. Restoring full
throttle as soon as they had recovered from the corner Shaun
clipping the corner of a passing construction vehicle.

The natives cursed at their predicament as they slid
helplessly, striking projections and grasping for solid support.
They could not see outside and could only guess at were Shaun was
taking them, their imagination populating the surrounds with ranks
upon ranks of Sunlord troopers.

A row of guards stepped out before the tank, but
quickly retreated as soon as they saw the tank was not about to
stop. But Shaun knew reinforcements would not be long in coming.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, a combat tank roared from a side
alleyway and spun about in pursuit, coming close to collision as it
barrelled in at full speed. Shaun could see in the holographic
image of the tank in the vdu, its great cannon bearing upon
them.

"Your stop!" bawled Shaun over the crashing of the
engine. He activated the emergency brakes and shoved the trackball
hard right. Skidding sideways on the concreted slabs the tank
crashed into a pile of steel crates with a terrible grinding of
metal, scattering debris in all directions.

"Get yourselves hidden," urged Shaun as Capac
appeared at his shoulder. The tank's engine idled roughly, and
Shaun knew it would be only a matter of seconds before the
enclosing net of Hartrias security caught up to them.

"I'll divert their attention," he continued. "From
there I'll get myself a cruiser and head back to the
Federation."

"You're not coming with us?"

Shaun glanced nervously at the tank's controls. "No,
look, we haven't got much time. Quickly, get out of here while the
going's good."

Capac heard the hydraulics hum and felt a gust of
dusty air as Shaun opened the hatch.

"Good hunting!" the forester cried as he leapt out
the hatch, his rifle held low and ready.

Myshia quickly followed with the silky motions of a
dancing shadow.

Ashian paused in the doorway, silhouetted by the
light. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell.

"Thank you, Star Man. Goodbye."

With these final words he took one final breath,
braced his nerves, and launched himself out of the tank.

Shaun wasted no time in resealing the hatch, his mind
working without emotion. The engine thundered and took off,
shedding scraps of metal as it flew off down the concrete road. The
natives dashed to the shelter of the buildings, covertly making
their way through the jumble of crates and wreckage.

There was no turning back now.

Ashian and Myshia followed Capac's lead as they
ducked through the shadows, their eyes darting about nervously,
hearts beating a ferocious tattoo in their ears.

A tank rumbled past, followed by the shouting of
Sunlord troopers. The natives ducked low as a trooper practically
walked straight past them. If Ashian had reached out through the
jumbled crates he could have brushed the armour of the passing
trooper.

The forest warriors did not move or even breathe. It
seemed the whole world had stopped as the trooper walked ever
closer. Capac held his rifle ready, his muscles bunching, in the
shadows his oil smeared body was almost invisible, the colouring of
his large insectile eyes seemingly disjointed.

Luckily for them it seemed they were following the
tank, and signs of pursuit quickly diminished. Capac breathed a
sigh of relief as he unlocked frozen muscles. They moved quickly
into the shadows to seek as much cover as possible.

In a brief moment of introspection Ashian looked upon
himself, suddenly astonished at the transformation that had
occurred. He had once been a slightly rotund council member, the
Grand Vizier, who directed the morning sermons at the Temple of
Abas. And now he was plastered in thick black oil, his once combed
hair a tussled unruly mess and his fine clothing given way to a
leather tunic bound by a length of cord. His life was now balanced
on a knife edge.

Capac reached the end of the cover of the crates -
beyond lay an empty expanse of bitumen and storage bays. A forklift
and crane worked on some equipment to unloaded a huge docked cargo
ship. The mammoth size of the cargo ship was stunning; its landing
pads were taller than a man, and a vast expanse of grey metal of
its hull seemed to reach up into the sky like a mountain.
Occasionally great clouds of steam would hiss from vents like the
breath of a gigantic dragon.

The onlooking hunter wondered how on earth the
Sunlords managed to get such a thing off the ground.

An uneasy niggling of awe crept into his belly, but
he forced them away. He was a tribesman, and fear meant
nothing.

Capac hunkered low while awaiting for the other two
to regroup. He spoke silently, like a stalking hunter, his words
the barest of whispers. "One of their craft is there. The outlander
said that's our ticket."

Myshia nodded, but remained apprehensive. "How do we
get onboard?"

The eloprin hunters turned as one to look upon
Ashian, for he was the one who boasted that he could smuggle them
aboard. Caught off-guard, Ashian cast about looking for
inspiration. He peered over the lip of the crate to spy upon the
working forklift once more, careful not to make any sudden
movements.

"We've got only one option," he muttered. "We've got
to get into those crates."

Myshia's eyes widened in surprise, but Capac nodded
in agreement. "From there that metal beast with the long arms will
carry us on..."

Their eyes met, and the decision was made. Capac lead
them off, circling around so that they were closer to the forklift.
It was a tense few minutes, but they made it unscathed. The humming
computer controlled forklift trundled about not five metres from
where they lay.

As soon as it had disappeared with a full load into
the hull of the cargo ship they made their move. Ashian immediately
set about attacking the catches holding the crate's lid fastened
and soon his nimble fingers had removed all four of the metal
devices. Capac and Myshia helped as best as they were able to budge
the lid, but it remained solid. Together all three pushed against
it, their muscles trembling with effort.

Capac cursed, and gave up. An idea struck Ashian.

"Here, give me your knife, Capac."

Capac handed over the implement, and watched as
Ashian fitted it under the rubber seal of the crate, working its
end to prise it in. The weapon began to bend with strain and Ashian
pushed down, applying leverage to the blade.

With a final heave the lid opened a crack and air
rushed in to fill the vacuum sealed interior. Ashian fell back as
the crate seemingly gasped for air.

Capac lifted the lid, finding that it gave easily now
that the difference in pressures had been resolved.

He peered inside, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

The crate contained a neat stack of machinery,
immersed in a pool of evil smelling grease.

Capac hauled out of strangely shaped apparatus, and
lay it in the shadows between the nearby crates. The others helped
to remove the peculiar pieces of machinery, dripping with heavy oil
that would preserve them.

In a few moments enough room had been cleared that
enabled Capac to lower himself into the black oil. He positioned
himself between the few parts of remaining machinery and braced his
back against the inside wall, expecting the journey to be a rough
one. Myshia leapt lithely into the crate without a word, holding
her bow above her head to keep it free of the oil.

Suddenly a rumble made Ashian look up, and he saw
with horror that the forklift had emerged from the ship and was
headed directly towards them. In their exposed position they would
surely be seen.

"I'll seal this crate," he breathed. "I'll have to
find another for myself."

Capac seemed concerned. "Be careful."

Ashian was already closing the lid. "Don't worry,
I'll meet up with you once we get inside the ship."

He flicked the catches closed, putting a splinter of
fractured metal between the rubber sealing as he did so that would
allow a small flow of air to circulate in the crate. He realised
suddenly that those inside wouldn't be able to open the catches
from where they lay; if Ashian didn't release them they would be
trapped!

The heavy burden of responsibility weighed upon his
mind, for he knew he could not simply leave to catches open or it
would look suspicious. He had just flicked the last catch when the
squat orange machine bore down upon them. He dropped out of
sight.

Ashian moved between the crates on hands and knees
with bare seconds to spare. He realised that the forklift had
reached the crate containing his companions, and had extended its
robotic arms to engage with the brackets on the box. With a hum of
machinery the forklift made easy work of lifting the crate off the
ground and spun quickly about-face, one tread working forward while
the other worked backwards. Moments later it was headed for the
ramp of the cargo ship and disappeared into the darkness of the
hold.

A sinking feeling settled in Ashian's belly, for this
was not what he had expected. They had never intended to separate,
and this new turn of events meant that they may never find each
other again. For the next few hours, Ashian was alone. The Currach
exhaled, releasing pent up air that he realised he had been
holding. He sunk against a steel crate desperately trying to think
of was going to do.

He froze, the hairs upon the nape of his pale fleshed
neck bristling at the sound of footsteps. He felt the vibrations
more than he heard them, and immediately knew that a Sunlord
approached.

Ashian was wild eyed for a brief moment before
rationality replaced the spark of panic. He must hide!

Legs curled beneath him, Ashian dove for a narrow gap
between two massive stacks of various sized crates. He hit the
ground and rolled into deeper cover, putting a barrier between
himself and the marching Sunlord.

At that moment the footsteps rounded the corner,
bringing the guard in view of the crate he had just leapt behind.
It had been close, and Ashian feared that the Sunlord may have seen
him.

The Sunlord android froze, its senses suddenly
attuned to a small disturbance. It looked exactly like a flesh and
blood Sunlord trooper, but its true identity was know only to a
handful of technicians. It belonged to the TX sub-class, a lean
mechanical network underneath the layer of plasticised skin, nerves
honed to fine edge, its body extra-ordinarily powerful. Its secret
identity allowed it to mix more easily with the Hartrias troops,
giving Avatar the opportunity to overlook her workers and supervise
construction. Rebellion or strikes amongst workers was rare due to
the presence of the awed TX androids.

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