Episode 52







Meanwhile, back around the bend, Dutch automatically peeled off her suit right in front of Angelo without even thinking and then noticed the look on his face. Her problem was that she fell in between two pools, so to speak. She felt more comfortable bathing with the men because it was what she was used to. To bathe with the women felt too…naked, unnatural. She had seldom even seen Sweet Mary naked…or vice versa. They used to close their eyes when the other was getting dressed in the prison.


“Er, mind if I bathe with you?” she asked lamely and a little bit too late. “Sorry, I’m so used to living with men I didn’t even think….”


Angelo wasn’t in the habit of bathing with women, but he understood her problem immediately and was equal to the situation.


“Sure. No problem.”


“Thanks.”


Angelo began to wash himself with gusto, trying very hard not to look embarrassed.


When they had finished there was an awkward silence while they waited for their suits to dry. The suits looked a sorry sight, scuffed and torn and generally not too much use as clothing anymore. Righteous’ suit had suffered the most. His was literally hanging in strips since his plunge into the swamp.


“Gonna need some new clothes soon,” said Dutch.


“Maybe some of those skins they use for bags and stuff,” said Angelo.


Dutch laughed. “We’ll all look like a bunch of cave men.”


Angelo’s eyes inadvertently fell on Dutch’s broad frame and well-muscled body. He couldn’t help but sneak some admiring glances at her. He even found her sexy in a robust kind of way. She had a much better looking body than he did. But that was a cop’s life; hanging round in bars, drinking and smoking, mostly too tired or too lazy to go to the gym, whereas she was an ore-miner. Not an ounce of limp fat on her toned torso. He had to admit that she was quite beautiful. Then, simply to drag his eyes away from her, he looked at Righteous who was twice her size and muscled proportionately. Between the three of them he felt like a real ninety pound weakling. Oh well. Rose loved him for who he was. And that was all that mattered.


They sat in silence and listened to the gentle lapping of the water.


“What do you think has happened to him?” asked Dutch, running her hand through her thick hair.


“I think it’s this planet. I think he picked up a bug or something.”


“More likely a bug up the proverbial. He’s definitely got something. Maybe swamp fever. He hardly even knows we’re here.”


“And what about Sweet Mary? I think we should rename her ‘Kick-ass Mary’. This planet is doing strange things to both of them.”


“And all those things under the tree?”


“Don’t know. Rose hasn’t said anything and I don’t want to ask. It’s just………this place gives me the heebie jeebies sometimes. Never quite sure what’s happening. But they did look like a child’s toys – human toys. What were they doing there?”


Dutch just stared at the surface of the water, deep in thought.


“I wonder what that big building is about?” she said.


“Maybe it’s their capital city. Sure looks fancy. And big.”


“And these bones…looks like a giant dinosaur carcass. Wish we could get Righteous to talk.” Dutch shrugged her shoulders and continued to sit and stare.


 


The scream, when it came, was somehow not wholly unexpected. Things had been going right for so long that sooner or later something was bound to go wrong. Dutch and Angelo ran downstream in the direction of the scream and were confronting a surprised Rose before they realized they were all naked.


“Hello,” she said, as if nothing was wrong. Sweet Mary was nowhere in sight.


“Where is she?” asked Dutch.


Rose, clutching her flute tightly to her chest, turned mutely and pointed over her shoulder. Dutch and Angelo took off in that direction and after crashing through some bushes they came upon an extraordinary sight.


 


There, in a little clearing was the most bizarre and terrible sight they’d ever seen. A strange looking Ahram was perched on an even stranger looking craft. He had a white robe over his shoulders that was so uncharacteristic of an Ahram that the humans were almost inclined to laugh at the absurdity was it not for the deadly seriousness of the situation. The craft he rode upon was even more perplexing to the humans; a plain, white, round disc, some five metres in diameter, that hovered silently a foot or so above the ground with no obvious means of support or propulsion. If this sight was not singular enough to silence and strike awe into the spectator, then the crozier he carried in his hand was.


It was difficult to describe because it was hard to look at. It seemed to shimmer and vibrate with such intensity as would render it non-material, or as close to pure, formless energy as matter could come. The shaft steamed and writhed like a live creature in his hand. But the piece de resistance was the loupe at the top of the crozier. It was an awesome sight – best and easiest described as a circle of bone with a miniature wormhole trapped within it, sucking at the air like a hungry animal. It changed colour as one looked, perhaps alternating with the mood of the creature, because at the moment was turning from bright red to a deep ugly purple. It was a riveting sight. They dared not even breathe too deeply for fear of drawing its power down on them.


But all this was as nothing, for the truly horrific part of the scene was Sweet Mary, suspended in mid-air and held aloft seemingly by the power of the crozier. Her sightless eyes stared into nothingness and her arms and legs jerked up and down like a wooden puppet, limbs flying this way and that in a horrible parody of a mad woman dancing in the fires of hell.


Rose, who had followed on behind them all, felt something warm run down her leg and realized she had wet herself.


“Bad girl. Bad Rose,” she said.


Dutch thought she was going to be sick. She knew she was useless against that sort of power.


“If you harm her I will kill you.”


“How nice,” said the strange looking Ahram on the flying platform. “You can always rely on a human for a violent response. And of course, you have done it before, haven’t you?”


Suddenly Righteous was in the picture - blazing black malice and thundering along the ground straight at the newcomer, intent on ripping his heart out.


“DON’T!” said the stranger. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One little flick of my wrist and I will break her spine.”


Righteous made a gargantuan effort to reign himself in and skidded to a stop. He looked first at Sweet Mary then at the rider on the disc and knew he was beaten. He stood fuming in frustration. The Rider merely laughed at him and turned to other matters. None of the humans even questioned the fact that they could understand what the Rider was saying. No one ever questioned that sort of power. It just seemed natural that he was superhuman…or superahram. Even his demeanour was superior in an all-powerful kind of way. A laconic twist of the lip made his snout look lopsided and gave him a dangerously sinister air, as if he wouldn’t give two hoots to strike you down dead. His skin was smoother than the other Ahram and almost white, as if constant use of the power had bleached the colour out of him.


“Greetings Earthlings. Welcome to Urghan. I hope you had a pleasant journey?” he said and he hooted with laughter. “And doesn’t she dance gracefully?” he said indicating Sweet Mary, his crozier swaying to and fro like a conductors baton, choreographing her Dans Macabre as she swooped this way and that in the empty air.


Tongue-tied and goggle-eyed they gawped in amazement and disbelief. They didn’t know whether it was all just a dream or really happening. It was hard for their pragmatic minds to watch and accept the rules of reality being bent and broken like this.


“And no, I don’t speak English. The crozier is translating for me. Think of it as an interstellar wi-fi…among other things. It can access any database in the universe – and you humans just love data don’t you? Every little fart and fumble recorded for posterity. Ha, ha. You have vast knowledge and intelligence but no real  power – no personal power,” he said, jigging his crozier and making Sweet Mary jump up and down, flailing her limbs about, fit to break.


“Without your machines you’re worse than useless. Up in those mountains you wouldn’t last a day. The only reason I am not letting you go up there to die is that you will make an interesting distraction for the Seesh.” He spat the word out as if it soiled his lips. “He has been a bit depressed lately,” his voice soured sarcastically, “had no-one new to play with – and we haven’t had a sacrifice in months. So it’s very convenient of you to have come along. Especially now as he has had his eye on a few of my favourite concubines and I would be loathe to lose them…not that these scrawny chicks of yours would be a satisfying mouthful for the worm.”


At first they thought he meant worm as a synonym for death, but then it began to dawn on them that he might be meaning it literally.


“Worm?” enquired Angelo.


“Well, worm is a bit of a misnomer. Giant snake is a more accurate description. But really, it’s nothing to worry about. Now, it’s time to get going. You know how irritable I get when I miss lunch. Come on, hop to it. Ha, ha,” he said, jangling Sweet Mary into another frenetic dance and set off down the road on his flying saucer with her suspended in front of him.

THINGS AREN'T LOOKING TOO GOOD FOR THE HUMANS. FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT WEEK.