《Skydrift: A Steampunk Fantasy (edited version)》Chapter Twenty-Two—The Keepers
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Jon’s head pounded as he blinked awake, his face pressed against the vibrating metal plate floor. A loud ringing had set in both his ears.
“Shut it off!” a voice bellowed over the din of the rumbling.
He couldn’t tell who was speaking, but if he had to make a choice, he would have said it was the senior Guardian, Carle Bael’s.
“Let her go!” another voice shouted.
This time Jon recognized it as Andrea’s. He made an effort to turn his head but felt too weak. It was as if he’d not fully regained consciousness. The last thing he’d remembered was telling Niles they would have to make a stand.
Then blackness.
“I said if you don’t shut it off right now I’ll splatter your head all over these walls,” Bael said.
Who is he threatening? he wondered, worrying he wouldn’t recover fast enough to do anything about it.
“I told you already,” Emma’s voice shot back defiantly. “I don’t know how.” There was pause. Then finally came her stifled cry.
Jon made another effort to turn his head, this time more desperate as he used both arms to raise his upper body a fraction so that he had more room to turn his head. His body surely started healing itself but how long had it been since he was knocked unconscious?
Emma came into view. The first thing Jon noticed was the blood draining down her face from the side of her head. She was on her knees, head held back by Bael’s tight grip over her hair. She was trying to wrench his fingers open.
Bael’s energy pistol was pressed hard into the slickened side of her cheek now. “Last chance.”
Jon coughed over the lingering smoke from the explosion. “Stop,” He said, a hand outstretched as if he could physically will himself to grab the pistol from Bael’s hand. He couldn’t let him kill her. I won’t allow it!
Bael turned his head. “Make it stop, or I’ll kill her right here.”
“I... I’ll do it,” he said.
Emma writhed wildly in an attempt to get free as she screeched, “No, Jon! Don’t do it!”
Bael yanked her head back, and then brought his fist down into her stomach. Emma wheezed as she wilted to the floor in a fetal position.
“Stop,” Jon shouted. He glanced behind himself where he thought he’d felt a struggling movement. It was no wonder he seemed to be the only person in the room with Emma and Bael. Niles and the rest of the group were on their knees, their hands behind their heads held closely at gunpoint. “Please,” Jon said. “I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt anyone.”
Bael didn’t say anything for a moment, then he nodded to his men behind Jon and they promptly lifted him up. His legs felt like rot wood. He nearly collapsed, but the two men held him on his feet.
“Hurry,” Bael snarled as he flourished his pistol in the direction of the main console.
If Jon canceled the weapon’s discharge, the alien fleet would arrive on the planet under four days. They’d know what had transpired inside the control room and they’d surely renew their efforts in wiping out human kind. I can’t let that happen, he told himself.
“Move,” Bael shouted as he pushed his pistol behind Jon’s neck, pulling him toward the console.
Jon nearly fell, but it was a lie. But Bael didn’t know that. Before he started inputting commands into the console, Jon shrugged off his guards. He had both arms on the console for support now, but he knew he could probably stand and walk at this point without any help.
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Bael probably didn’t know what was happening, but Jon knew he was supposed to stop the weapon from firing or Emma was dead. Instead he turned around.
He was face to face with Bael.
“What are you doing?” the Guardian barked.
Jon balled his fist and surged forward. The first punch landed squarely on Bael’s nose. The second was unsuccessful as Bael brought his left arm up in a block.
Jon felt a sudden shock of pain course through the back of his shoulder after the soldier behind him had brought the butt of his rifle down.
Jon looked up at his captors. Bael’s nose was crooked and blood dripped down his lips and into his beard, his eyes wide in apparent shock. Then his face crunched furiously as he raised his pistol toward Emma.
Suddenly the floor lurched.
Jon heard the discharge of Bael’s pistol as he fell, a surge of lightning fear coursing through his chest and arms. “Emma!”
If he hurt her, I’ll kill him!
Jon got to his hands and knees as quickly as he could, scrambling towards Emma. But she was already getting up off the floor of her own volition.
Bael had evidentially missed his shot.
Jon let out a quick air of relief as he tried to ready himself for the next round of life or death when he suddenly realized the floors were no longer vibrating. The rumbling that had seemed to be issuing from the deepest bowls of the planet had also stopped.
Had the weapon fired? he wondered.
Bael was on his feet now, looking angrier than ever. But his attention was directed toward one of his soldiers who asked, “What is that?” The soldier was pointing to a bright blinking glyph on a newly projected hologram while a soft claxon sounded through the room.
Bael glanced about, seemingly indecisive for a moment. Then, snarling, he turned to Jon. “What is that?”
Jon touched the pulsing glyph which issued a command. It brought up many lines of scrolling information.
“Well, what is it?”
“The weapon has fired,” Jon said, looking down at Emma who was still on her knees. Then he turned to Niles and the rest of the crew. “We did it.”
“Did what?” Bael barked.
“We’ve destroyed most of the fleet.” He touched some of the scrolling informational glyphs and then pointed at what symbolized the remaining ships.
“Whatever you did,” Bael said, eyes narrowing, “it’s going to be the death sentence for you.”
Jon ignored him. He didn’t care what the consequences were now that they had possibly pulled off their mission. He continued to read the glyphs for a moment before touching the proper line which indicated whatever damage the weapon had inflicted on its intended target. He had to make sure it was finished. “According to these readouts... we’ve destroyed twelve ships, and... five remain, which are currently making a course correction.”
Andrea breathed out a heavy sigh. “Thank the gods!”
Jon felt a smile coming on, but then he noticed another glyph he’d not seen earlier was blinking on the other side of the projection. He touched it to bring up the relevant information.
He was taken aback when the entire view changed from post discharge to some other critical projection he didn’t recognize. More informational glyphs were scrolling across the hologram as well as a two dimensional layout of the control room.
“What’s going on?” Bael said.
Jon allowed himself a quick glance at the man. The blood on his face had stopped flowing freely now. “Let me find out.”
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The control room was surrounded by several other smaller chambers. Four of which were blinking in a limned blue outline. Beside the layout were hundreds of lines of information glyphs. Jon moved his eyes to the scrolling blue ones and started to read. He crinkled his brows not understanding as he read aloud. “Salvation encroachment? Keepers dissolved?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Niles asked.
I don’t know what it means, he thought, but he knew the time stamped alert wasn’t a good thing. Whatever it meant, it started as soon as Jon had activated the weapon.
Then, noticing the exit route on the left of the screen, Jon was momentarily distracted. If they had any chance to escape, this was the way.
Bael evidentially realized where Jon’s eyes had been lingering. “Alright, enough of this,” he barked. “Take them away.”
Jon felt a strong grip clasp his arm.
Now it’s impossible, he thought. There’s going to be no way to—
The projection presenting freedom to Jon and the others suddenly flickered before going completely dark.
Where the entry door once was, a thin wall of blue shimmering light appeared. It had a rough lined edge which streamed horizontally across the door.
Bael cocked his head back. “What the hells?”
Jon heard Emma gasp before she quietly said, “This is archeological find forty-nine technology.”
“So it is,” Bael sneered. “What’s going on here?”
A couple of the soldiers lit flares as one of them said, “I don’t like this.”
“Shut up,” Bael snapped.
The control room was unknown territory to Jon as well as to Bael, but if the power was off as well as the computer systems, how could anyone in the control room issue complex engineering orders like that?
They’d have to have intimate knowledge of how the power systems work, he thought.
Earlier he’d perused the database, learning how to shut and lock doors, but Jon still didn’t know where the power junction was located or even how to operate it.
It wasn’t one of Bael’s men, and it certainly hadn’t been Jon who had shut off all the power, save for the energy barrier.
Then a surge of excited energy that seemed to bifurcate many times to the ends of his limbs shot through the body of the guard on Jon’s right side.
Someone screamed.
Jon lurched back.
“What’s happening?” Niles shouted.
“Senior!” one of Bael’s men shouted.
Alert, eyes wide and heads swiveling, everyone looked about for wherever that energy projectile came from.
There was no immediate answer, though.
There can only be one explanation for this! Jon thought. Someone else is here...
Bael wheeled around to face Jon. “Did one of you set this up on your way in?”
“No,” Jon said fervently. “Bael, listen to me...”
The red light from the flares made the Guardian’s bloody snarl look demonic as he said, “I’ve had enough of you, Swords.” He pushed Jon backwards and added, “If you open your mouth again except to answer one of my questions, I’ll finish what I started earlier.”
Jon hadn’t known Bael personally during his time with the Order, but he had heard stories. From what he knew, Bael was quick to anger and usually carried out his threats, which meant Jon would have to keep his mouth shut or risk the lives of their group.
It was unbearable. If felt as though a writhing beast inside him was clawing its way up his throat. He had to warn the others before…
There were several soft pneumatic hisses as if several doors had been opened. Jon looked back and forth but saw nothing. He didn’t remember any doors into the control room except the entry door, and the exit at the end of the corridor.
“What was that?” he heard one of the soldiers whisper.
Then the two-dimensional diagram flashed into his head. Surrounding the chamber had been four smaller rooms with what looked like corridors leading away from the control room. But he hadn’t seen any doors into the main chamber from those rooms.
Low rumbling growl-like sounds issued from several directions.
“What is that?” Bael said, wheeling around. There was an evident note of heightening pitch in his voice.
Bael’s men, rifles raised, were ready for a fight. Then Jon heard several of them mutter things in hushed whispers.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Did you hear that?”
“It’s nothing,” another hissed.
“Give me that,” Bael said contemptuously as he snatched a flare from one the men. He tossed it up at the wall.
What in the...?
From what Jon saw, and he didn’t get a very good glimpse, was a door-sized shaft near the ceiling, and what looked like the lower half of a pair of... legs? He couldn’t be sure.
His heart was racing.
Every soldier in the room had his weapon poised at the spot where Bael had tossed the flare. Then the Guardian barked, “Where are those RMK-Nineteen visors, dammit?”
One of the men shouldered through the jam as he rifled through his bag for the Order tech the senior had called for. He handed Bael the visor. He was slipping the tech over his head when it happened.
Blue flashes of light began streaking through the room. It was only a split second before every one of Bael’s rifles began firing with blazes of flashing light and ear deafening cracks and hissing energy discharges.
Jon jumped to the floor yelling, “Down! Everybody get down!” in the hopes Niles and the others heard him.
It’s them! It’s them! It’s them! his thoughts screamed as he scrambled through dozens of shifting legs while bullet casings rained down over his back and bright lights flashed as energy weapons cracked and smoked.
A boot crunched down on his hand. He hardly felt it. He could see most of the others only a few feet away. They too were on the floor scrambling for cover as smoking bodies continued dropping. “Come on,” he tried to yell over the din, waving his arm.
He kept moving in the direction of the exit corridor as fast as he could. He hoped the others had heard him. He could see a clearing where the tangle of legs and stomping boots ended.
The cacophony of weapons fire and shouting soldiers and screaming death cries was maddening.
One of Bane’s men came scrambling through on his hands and knees muttering like a crazy person, brushing past Jon just as he was exiting the sea of legs and boots. He managed to grab a dropped flare on his way out, followed by Andrea who came scrambling next. Then came Sidney, Walter and then finally Emma with Niles helping her at her side, his arm around her shoulders.
“Let’s get the hells out of here! Niles croaked as he and the others ran straight past him.
Jon started running after the others when something grabbed his boot. He fell hard to the floor, a throaty grunt issuing involuntarily from his mouth.
He knew it was a clawed hand grabbing implacably at his boot as he scrambled to his back. Whatever was clutching at him hadn’t lost its grip.
“SWORDS!” It was Bael, the RMK-Nineteen visor still covering his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere, Swords!”
Jon kicked the other Guardian in the chest as half a dozen of his men rushed past in frantic bewilderment and retreat.
Bael lost his grip, hardly reacting to his men rushing in retreat as he unsheathed his knife. He leapt at Jon, both hands and all his weight over the hilt. The knife nearly drove into Jon’s chest, but he had caught Bael’s wrists. “I’m... going to kill you,” Bael grunted.
Jon couldn’t hold the blade much longer. Bael, being much younger than he, had the advantage in strength. The blade was beginning to penetrate his vest.
Then a flash of blue light streaked overhead. Warm liquid shot onto Jon’s neck and face, but he felt Bael’s body go limp before falling to the side.
Jon looked over at what was the other Guardian. The left side of his head was gone. Then Jon’s eyes settled in the direction of the screams, a few red flares providing just enough light to see the blackened silhouettes of Bael’s remaining men as they were getting cut down by inhuman figures in close combat.
A flash of weapons fire limned one standing near the base of his feet in yellow light. Jon scrabbled for the flare he had dropped and raised it over his head.
Amidst the terrified screaming, Jon saw it clearly.
My gods!
His mind suddenly dredged up images of when he’d first seen the frozen corpse of the alien inside the Guardian temple.
Jon’s ill-beckoned thoughts vanished as the creature standing before him centered its glowing blue eyes on him. It snarled toothily as it raised its weapon.
Flashing light issued over Jon’s head and the creature’s face erupted with blue liquid.
It crashed to the floor, sizzling.
One of Bael’s soldiers who’d evidentially retreated earlier came back for his Captain. The soldier had emptied an energy round into the creature’s face. “Come on,” the soldier shrieked after laying eyes on Bael’s body. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
Jon scrambled after the soldier, who evidentially didn’t care that Jon and the others were no longer in their custody.
The shouts and screams of the others faded behind him as they were cut and blasted apart by those horrors the Order called extraterrestrials. They were more like world-fairing monsters.
“Where the hell have you been?” Niles barked when Jon arrived.
The whole group was there along with five of the late Bael’s men who now seemed to only care about escape.
“I was...” He bent over to catch his breath. “...held up.”
“Held up?” Sidney said removing his hands from his mouth as he turned to look at Jon, his back pressed tightly against the wall.
“What the hells were those things?” one of the soldiers croaked.
“Beings from another world,” Emma said. “That’s why we’re here—to stop them.”
“Look,” another soldier said. “We need to find a way out of here.”
Jon stepped forward. “I know the way out. I committed it to memory before...” he trailed off.
“Then let’s stop wasting time in this corridor and get out of here,” Andrea said.
Jon doubted the aliens would pursue them out of the control room. There hadn’t been that many Keepers to begin with, and even though most of Bael’s men were wiped out just moments ago, Jon knew there’d only been two or three of the creatures left.
“Listen,” Jon said, raising his flare to the remainder of Bael’s five soldiers. “As soon as we get out of here we part ways.”
The soldier who had come back for his captain but ended up saving Jon stepped forward. “Yeah, no problem,” he said in what seemed like scared relief. “We just want to get out of here.”
Jon nodded in agreement. Then he added, “And as soon as you get back, you need to warn the Order about what happened here so they can finish off those remaining monsters. Do you understand?”
The soldier nodded fervently.
“Good,” Niles said. “Now can we please get out of here? Those bastards could come to finish us off any minute.”
How did they get in here? Jon wondered. Their fleet is still four days out!
Shouldering to the front of the group to lead the way, he knew he’d mull it over until he figured it out.
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