Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (17 page)

Nate searched the immediate area again as Thom went to recheck the other body for possible ID. Nate bent to retrieve the red box Celixia had been so emphatic about. “Wait a minute,” he said, hope rising. He set the box on the floor and shoved a pile of containers a few inches to the left. Something that gleamed red in the shadows had caught his eye as he bent over to get the box. Leaning closer, he saw a glowing symbol on the butt of an unmistakable hand weapon. Nate was sure his find was the dead explorer’s gun or blaster, flung off the walkway as the person died.

“Help me with this. I think we got a possible weapon.”

It took them ten minutes of moving items from stacks and repiling them in the aisle to be able to reach the object that had attracted Nate’s eye. He scooped up the shiny one-piece device in his left hand and backed into the clear.

“Deadly weapon if I ever met one,” Thom said as he examined their find in detail.

The grip fit neatly into Nate’s right hand, the red symbol on the left side under his thumb. Nate said, “I’m itching to push the damn button. What do you think?”

“Just don’t aim it at me.” Thom grinned. “We got nothing to lose. We don’t even know what this junk is.”

“True.” Nate took aim at a purple trapezoid resting on a pile about ten yards away and pushed the button.

The purple trapezoid ceased to exist, leaving a small pile of oily, congealed black ash in its place.

“Nasty but effective,” Thom said. “We lucked onto the ancient blaster, which I hereby designate the Alien Mark One. Think there are any more conveniently lying around, waiting for us to find them?”

“Check in the vicinity of the first body.” Nate carried the weapon in one hand and cradled the red box in the crook of his left arm as he walked toward the main aisle. “Wish this thing came with a holster.”

“Never satisfied, are you?” Thom’s voice was teasing. “Five minutes ago we were defenseless, now we’ve got the ultimate weapon in our possession, and you’re complaining because it don’t include accessories.”

“Guess I did sound ungrateful.”

They searched the area around the first corpse thoroughly but failed to find another weapon. Finally, Nate straightened and stretched, trying to ease sore muscles that were stiffening after the rigors of the sapiche game earlier in the day followed by the jarring chariot ride. His attention was caught by a container covered in symbols. “You see what I see?”

Thom swiveled his head in the direction Nate was indicating. “A whole box of these lethal beauties?”

Nate double-checked the red button on the blaster he’d found, then raised his eyes back to the box on top of the stack directly opposite him.
Same symbol
. It was even the identical blazing red color. “The Lords of Space are with us now. I think our luck has finally changed on this damn mission. Let’s get to that box and find out if we’re right.”

Half an hour later, he was staring at an entire arsenal of the ancient weapons, complete with the desired belts and holsters.

“Mother lode!” Thom was happy.

“Maybe not,” Nate said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not all of these have the red button glowing. Maybe they’re not charged.”

“Or the charge ran out? How much action are these babies good for?”

“No one alive on this planet can tell us, not even Bithia, I’m guessing.” Nate tried one of the weapons whose button was dull, aiming at a pink circular barrel across the room at the edge of the light. Sure enough, pressing the “trigger” produced no result. He tossed the depleted weapon into the box with a spacer’s curse. “Sort the good ones out, see what firepower we do have.”

It took a depressingly short amount of time. From a cache of twenty, only three had the brightly glowing button. Several others had trigger symbols that only flickered. Nate set them firmly aside. “Not worth the trouble to carry. They’d probably fail us at the worst possible moment. “

“No sign of whatever recharges the action either.” Thom checked through the pile one more time for anything he might have missed.

“We’ve spent enough time on this and had all the luck we’re going to get, you agree?”

“I’m ready to get out of here.” Thom latched the holster belt at his waist and adjusted the fit so the weapon was close at hand.

Nate handed Thom the other active weapon. “You take the extra, since I have to manage the red box.”

He walked toward the elevator, Thom following close on his heels, staring around. He estimated they’d managed to do a cursory survey of perhaps one-tenth of the total floor space of the warehouse.

“What a waste. All these artifacts and one remaining survivor, no less, who could tell us what each and every thing is, or does, and we don’t have the time to explore,” Nate said as they headed for the platform. “I know of Sectors archaeologists who’ve made entire careers out of analysis on one shard of a broken symbol.”

“Plenty of experts and treasure hunters would kill to be here, all right, genuine Ancient Observer installation or not. Place is old enough to be intriguing to those guys,” Thom said cheerfully. “I’ll kill to get out of here, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’m with you all the way, my friend. Never was tempted to join the Archaeology Service, and I’m not enlisting now either.”

“What are we going to do with the sleepers?” Thom asked as he stood at the lip of the elevator and watched the four men, all of whom lay as if dead. The sergeant hunkered down to rapidly check pulses. “Still breathing, more’s the pity.”
 

Nate considered his options. “Tempting as it might be to leave Sarbordon here to his proper fate, I can’t do it. Can’t leave even a sadistic bully like him to die of starvation in a coma.”

“No argument from me. Did Bithia say how long the sleep effect lasts, once the locals are removed from the storehouse?”

Nate shook his head. “Never occurred to me to ask. I’m not sure I believed in the knockout device. We need to find something to tie them up with before we go back to the surface. The men waiting outside should be fairly easy to ambush. Certainly no one’s expecting any trouble from us.”

“We left two more guards, five drivers and the two priestesses up there.” Thom reviewed the numbers rapidly. “Kinda heavy odds, even with these nice new toys we acquired. Atletl and Celixia are in an exposed position, situational awareness unknown but I’d bet they’re engrossed in each other. Can’t count on them to be combat ready.” He frowned. “One soldier escapes and makes it back to the city to sound the alert, there goes our chance of reaching your lady.”

“I don’t disagree. Suggestions?”

“Go by yourself, tell them the big boss needs more help to collect all the goodies. We get as many of them down here as you can convince.”

Nate considered. “So far I like it. What’s the next play?”

“We dress ourselves like the guards, take a few choice parcels to the surface as lures for the priestesses and any other hangers-on. When they come to get a better look and are distracted, we overpower them. Tie up the whole bunch on the surface, then bring these guys up. I’m sure you’re not planning on leaving anyone down here to starve to death while unconscious.”

“Right, goes against the grain to do tat, even to a bastard like Sarbordon. Then I close the cache entryway, we steal a chariot, set the rest of the animals loose to delay pursuit and head back to the palace for Bithia.” Nate nodded. “Efficient. Works for me. Excellent staff work, sergeant.”

“I know you like the plan clearly laid out one step at a time.”
 

Dragging the unconscious men off the platform took a few moments. Nate stepped inside the lift and paused, checking with Thom, already hard at work stripping the helmet and armor off the first guard. “You okay staying here?”

“Sure.” The sergeant waved one arm at the storeroom. “Got all the comforts of home here. Someone’s home anyway. Let’s get this action under way.”
 

Nate activated the symbol and counted slowly to himself as the platform ascended with stately grace. It took two full Terra standard minutes to reach the surface. He triggered the exterior door and found himself facing those left behind, crowded close to the step. The guards and charioteers fell back as Nate emerged onto the platform. Hands on sword, several men peered intently behind him, obviously surprised he was alone.

Good call on Thom’s part for me to ascend by myself. If we’d both come without escort, the enemy would have been on the alert. Hopefully they won’t recognize this alien device on my belt as a weapon.
Shooting anyone was his last resort. He liked a fair fight, and the total destruction created by the sleek black Mark One blaster, as Thom had nicknamed the gun, was excessive against swords and belt knives.

“Sarbordon commanded me to fetch more help,” Nate said immediately, not giving anyone time to ask awkward questions. He pointed at the guards. “You and you, now!” As the men stumbled to join him, Nate crooked a finger at the nearest driver. “You too.”

“I need to stay with the animals.” Another man retreated a few steps before Nate could tag him for the subterranean detail. “And guard the priestesses.”

“Right, you two stay.” Nate kept his tone amiable, not liking the slightly suspicious tone the man had. “Atletl!”

“Lord?” His teammate came front and center, pushing past the driver who’d been reluctant to accept Nate’s orders.

“Be ready to depart when we return to the surface,” Nate said, hoping Atletl would take the hint and be prepared for action next time the door opened.

“Wait.” One of the Huitlani priestesses shook her head imperiously and made as if to step through the door.

“No females!” Nate slammed his hand on the activating symbol, and she barely avoided the instantaneously closing door.

He maintained an easy chatter during the descent, remarking about the magical, wondrous weapons and other things the king was now going to command. His nervous audience listened avidly, succumbing to the induced coma as suddenly as the first set of Talonqueni had when the door opened.

Nate gaped at Thom, now resplendent in the uniform of the palace guards, complete with green tunic, leather breastplate, short black-and-green-striped kilt, black cloak, sword and anachronistic blasters on both hips. “Nice feathers.” Nate flicked the cluster of greenish-black chingaza plumage adorning the helmet.

Raising his bushy red eyebrows, Thom fingered his clothing and grimaced. “Good thing it’s dark out, or I wouldn’t fool anyone who took a second glance.”

“Where’s mine?”

“Right there.” Thom pointed to a heap of clothes. “I’ve picked out a few sexy, colorful boxes and bins with unusual shapes for us to pile into the lift, guaranteed to distract even the damn priestesses for at least a moment.”

“Good work. Drag my latest victims off the platform, would you, while I change? And then I’ll help load the bait.”

Nate stripped rapidly and donned his Talonque palace guard’s uniform. “Bit breezy, this kilt thing.”

“Wrap yourself in the cloak, plenty of fabric there, thank goodness.”
 

Nate set the helmet on his head and fastened the chin straps. “Glad we serve in a modern military.”

“Helmet buys us time, since it obscures the face, which is the only good thing I can say about it. Weighs too much, no real protection and screws up your peripheral vision.”
 

Nate checked the small pile of items Thom had stacked on the platform, verifying the precious red box was off to the side where no one could grab it. He and Thom took their positions and made the slow ascent to carry out their ambush.

Although the strategy started well, the fight wasn’t quite as smooth and simple as Nate hoped. When the door opened at his command, he and Thom carried the bait packages out, trying to keep their faces hidden from the waiting priestesses and drivers. The two women reached for the same glittering small box, each tugging on her side and berating the other loudly. The drivers stood by, trying not to laugh too obviously at the greedy spat. Nate and Thom descended the steps again, carrying a large box this time, and moved toward the group.

At a prearranged hand signal from Nate, they dropped the container, each targeting a different driver. Nate knocked his man out with a quick uppercut, but Thom’s victim was only dazed. He staggered toward the chariots, Thom in hot pursuit.

The priestesses screamed, attacking Nate before he could move to help Thom subdue the fugitive. Atletl and Celixia launched themselves into the fray, Celixia grabbing one woman by her long, greasy braid and spinning her to the ground. Atletl clamped his hand around the upraised arm of the other, effectively preventing her from stabbing Nate in the back.

“Restrain them with these.” Nate threw a handful of cloth strips to Atletl before he sprinted after Thom.

Thom and the driver were struggling at the horse line. As Nate got closer, Thom stabbed the driver in the neck, allowing him to collapse to the ground, spooking the nearest kemat.
 

Another chariot had arrived while Nate was below in the cache, and now the vehicle’s driver whipped his team of kemat, trying to escape.

“Stop or die!” Nate yelled urgently.

The man redoubled his efforts.

Reluctantly, Nate raised his Mark One and fired.