Episode 69

Dust and debris from the bomb attack on the mountainside was still drifting down onto their heads when Sam leapt out of the cockpit and onto the ground, laser in one hand, cigar in the other, and marched over to Dutch.

 “You in charge this place?” he asked, waving his gun left and right.

Dutch didn’t answer right away. She was busy sizing him up from her vantage point on the flying platform. She glanced at his laser. Recognizing the make and model she knew it was a formidable weapon, and wondered how the crozier would stand up against it. Sweet Mary, Gennetta and the girls stood behind her, partially shielded from Sam’s view. Dutch had her finger firmly on the crozier as she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m in charge here. Who are you?”

As she said this she noticed some movement from the spaceship behind him. There before her unbelieving eyes was Angelo, clambering down the ladder and leading Righteous by the hand.

Sam turned to follow her gaze.

“I bring friends back…for a favour. They owe me now.”

“Oh yeah,” said Dutch, tightening her grip on the crozier and settling her feet firmly on the saucer.

Sam just smiled and looked around him.

“Nice place you have.” He was a real cool customer.

By now Sweet Mary had seen Angelo and Righteous, together with Noot and a strange new lady, and was peering round the edge of the flying disc hardly able to contain her excitement. She was dying to run out and welcome them. But the standoff between Dutch and this strange man was as palpable as electricity. No-one dared to move.

Righteous, Belle, Noot and Angelo finally drew level with Sam but he held up his cigar hand and stopped them going any further.

Daring the stranger’s wrath Sweet Mary couldn’t hold it in any more.

“Angelo, Righteous,” she called. “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” said Angelo.

“First thing first,” interrupted Sam. “No happy boo-hoo’s till I get pay for trip.”

“What do you want?” said Dutch.

“I want cheating, lying, scumbag who steal my money.” Sam pulled out a fresh cigar and took his time lighting up.

Dutch was none the wiser as to who he meant.

“He wants Eric,” explained Angelo. “Apparently he cheated him in a card game.”

Gennetta’s eyes opened very wide at this statement. She didn’t like Sam, and she found it hard to believe what he said. She also didn’t like the weapon he was waving around so nonchalantly.

“These pipples my hostage till I get pay,” he said, waving his gun at Angelo and co.

“He’s not here,” said Dutch.

“Where’s Rose,” asked Angelo, no longer being able to contain his anxiety. He had hoped to find her reunited with Dutch and Sweet Mary, but his worst fears were being confirmed.

“We haven’t seen her since she was in that child’s bedroom in the Cantave. I’m sorry Angelo.”

Angelo nodded and his whole demeanour sagged in disappointment. He had hoped…

“Never mind where who…where Eric?” Sam stuck his feet firmly in the dirt and moved his cigar to the other side of his mouth. The laser-gun never wavered. They could see he meant business.

Gennetta felt a worm of fear crawling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know the in’s and out’s of their quarrel, but this man was very dangerous and she knew she had to keep him away from Eric. She looked at Sam and then at the Tartarus and an idea stirred in her head. Ever since her egg-craft had been destroyed, her hopes of finding the dreamers had faded to nothing. The chances with the Tartarus were still close to that, for although she had found the women once (and the worm), that was only because the Seesh had opened a wormhole that had acted as a beacon for her little egg-ship. The immense energy generated by an anomaly like the wormhole acted like a magnet on the space ship and fairly dragged them to it. She had had no trouble in finding the arena then and saving the two earth girls, but that didn’t mean she’d find that place again. It was at no fixed point in the desert; in fact, it might not even be on this planet. There were no co-ordinates because the Seesh kept shifting the location somehow and the dreamers were almost impossible to find, especially without a flying craft. Now there was a slight chance.

Looking at Tartarus, she realized she could lead Sam directly away from Eric and try and find the missing women at the same time. But sifting through billions of square miles of desert sand was an impossible task. And she knew it. Also, it would mean telling a blatant lie. But then again, this man was no angel and she’d be saving a life – many lives – if they could find the women. Taking her courage in both hands she addressed Sam as politely as she could.

“I think I know where the man thou seeketh is,” she said. Sam had a bit of trouble hearing English spoken by a giant lizard. His eyes seemed to wobble in his head.

“What?” he said.

“I said I know where Eric is. I can take thee to him.”

Sam did not know how to cope with this. He decided to ignore her for a moment and turned to Righteous.

“Hey you…mister black and blind minstrel, I thought you know where Eric?”

“I only know he is on this planet. But a lot has happened.” He waved his hand vaguely in the air.

“I thought you Oracle…Prophet. You supposed to know.”

But Righteous just stood with his stony face set towards the citadel – and his doom. He had other things on his mind.

“So here we go runaround the mulberry bush. Hey you! Girlfriend.” He pointed his gun at Belle. “You come here. NOW!” he said, grabbing a handful of her hair. “Someone tell me where Eric right now or miss bubble-and-squeak get it between the big and shiny’s.”

Dutch was having an awful time trying not to barbeque Sam’s ass to cinders. Her every thought and emotion made the crozier bristle. But something held her back. Her eyes swivelled towards Righteous. He was standing quietly, quite unconcerned by the little drama being played out, his face was set unwaveringly on the Cantave. Righteous was her only true thermometer…or compass if you will. Somehow she knew he was plugged into the fate-line of the humans and Ahram alike. She also trusted his blind sense of things to come, however impaired of late this function was. If Righteous wasn’t overly concerned with Sam…then neither need she be. A moment later her decision was vindicated by Gennetta.

 “I can take thee to him,” she said. “Really I can.” Sam looked at her for a moment, weighing her up. He didn’t like the look of those massive muscular legs, not to mention the wicked looking claws. He’d have to keep a pretty sharp lookout or else he was minced meat.

“How I trust you? Talking lizard?” He snorted his derision at her, but was secretly amazed that something like this was possible.

“Because Eric…did things to me,” she said.

Sam looked at her with those shrewd eyes. There was definitely a strong emotion in her voice. It could be hatred or fear…or maybe something else. Did he believe her? Did he have a choice? The black guy didn’t seem interested in his problem anymore and was as silent as the grave. Even threatening his girlfriend got no response from him. These people were a strange bunch he decided. So, even though he wasn’t convinced by Gennetta’s offer, he had to make a choice. Try and force the black man…or go with the lizard?

“Hokay lizard lady. Let’s go. But the bitch come along….for security. Just in case.”

“I ain’t scared of you greasemonkey,” said the bitch in question, “and if I get a chance I’ll show you just how much a kick in the balls can hurt.”

“Just shut up your mouth. All you do is make noise. I tired of all you pipple noise. Time for action. You!” he motioned at Gennetta. “You take me to my man…or else.”

“I shall. But we have to go in thy ship,” she said. “He’s out there in the desert,” she waved her hand vaguely in a southerly direction.

Sam knew she was lying. He had an instinct for things like that, but he could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere arguing with them. Furthermore, that Dutch woman looked like a tough cookie and he didn’t really want to find out what that flaming staff in her hand could do. He knew he could only push his luck so far with her, and he certainly didn’t want to risk a confrontation. So, even though he was sure they were giving him the runaround, there was nothing much he could do about it…for now. ‘No matter,’ he thought. Sooner or later he was going to get what he wanted.

“If you lie I make you so sorry,” he said, sticking the gun into Belle’s ear. “I just fucking kill the lot of you fucking assholes right now why not? You fuck me round then I bomb this place shit-side up okay? All you friends go boom…….OKAY?” he all but shouted at Gennetta. When he reckoned he had them sufficiently cowed, he waved them on.

“Let’s go lizard-lady…and you too cowboy with big belly. The more insurance the better. But s’true’s god if Eric not there I come back find you all.” He ground his cigar into the dirt and marched them off towards the ship.

Long before the Tartarus’ noisy engines had lifted her into the sky, Dutch was skimming across the plains on her flying saucer with Sweet Mary, Righteous and Noot sitting at her feet. There was nothing she could have done about Sam and realized it was probably for the best that he was out of the way for a while. Gennetta could look after herself she was sure. Dutch and Righteous had agreed that the only course of action was to confront the Seesh…again. She had no plan except for the crozier in her hand. But even with that she had no illusions about standing up to the Seesh for very long. Her confidence was intermittent to say the least. Righteous on the other hand seemed hell-bent on clashing horns with him again, no matter that it had all gone so horribly wrong the last time. Perhaps he’d learnt a thing or two. She certainly hoped so. Anyway, they had to try something.

So they headed for the Cantave, but little did they count on the reception they got. They’d expected some opposition from the Seesh or his minions, but not the entire Ahram workforce on the move. She’d never seen a stampede of this size. Either Garm and Eric had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams and had stirred up a rebellion that put the French Revolution to shame, or else the Ahram must’ve been spooked by Sam’s anti-matter torpedoes.

‘Damn idiot. The man is crazy,’ she thought. Just the kind of maverick they didn’t need at the moment. He was literally a loose cannon; going off every time someone joggled his thumb. In his defence he had  brought the men back to them, but he was trouble and she knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them were going to have to sort out who’s who. Well, that is if she made it that far.

They had set off full of high hopes and deep fears, knowing that the lives of millions, perhaps billions were at stake. The flying saucer had made good time and soon they were in sighting distance of the slums that lay around the Cantave. That’s when Dutch had her first twinge of misgiving. Rising from the suburbs of the city was a tremendous dust cloud, its frontier many miles wide. Dutch shrugged off the phenomenon as merely the after-effects of the bombs that Sam had unleashed, but she couldn’t quell a feeling of unease stirring in her loins. She had no choice but to keep pushing on and soon they were entering the outskirts of the sprawling city, heading towards the Cantave already towering above them. The problem was that the cloud of dust, roiling into the sky and oh so close, seemed to be on a collision course with them.

They had been winding their way through the slum for some twenty minutes when the shanty town around them suddenly levelled out and a sea of Ahram workers swam into view like a tidal wave surging blindly towards them, trampling everything underfoot. Dutch skewed off at an oblique angle and hit the gas. She’d seen crowds before. Angry crowds, panic-stricken crowds, but she had never seen one so silent, so big, and so…inevitable. She kept angling towards the Cantave, trying to find a way around the edge of the mob, but the line seemed endless. They needed to get to the Seesh. In another ten minutes the base of the wall came into sight and that was when she realized her mistake. Directly in front of them was another crowd. This lot had circled around the Cantave from the other side in a pincer movement and were heading towards a mighty clash with their comrades…with Dutch and company caught right in the middle. It was just a matter of minutes before they would be engulfed. She could already feel the ground thunder under the tramp of so many powerful legs.

A ‘protective bubble’ was a thought that sprang to Dutch’s mind as she gazed at the crozier. It was their only hope. But how to do it? So much power, and not the faintest clue on how to use it. Did she dare? That was the problem. It was all a matter of belief. If she doubted, it wouldn’t work. Maybe protective bubbles don’t work. And what if she fried the Ahram or her friends by mistake? Intent. The key word was intent. She must intend what she wished to achieve. That was how the crozier worked. Just wish upon a star. Scary.

Ahram to the right…Ahram to the left…and a blank white wall in front of them. What to do? The gap between the two hordes narrowed to two hundred yards and things were beginning to look more than a little scary.

“Noot,” said Noot, which Dutch reckoned was his way of saying ‘let’s just get the hell out of here’. Noot, Righteous, and Sweet Mary were all kneeling on the flying platform at Dutch’s feet, holding onto her legs.

“We have to find the gate,” said Dutch. “Righteous. You got any ideas?”

“Sorry,” was his only comment.

“Shit.”

And on they came, the trampling hordes, closer and closer, raising a cloud of dust that spiralled up into the sky, casting a pall over the valley. Dutch’s mind was in no mood to put forth her calm intent; she just wanted to run. Desperately she tried to remember a spell from one of her childhood fairy-story books but ‘Rumplestiltskin’ was all she could come up with and she didn’t think that would help much.

Then like magic, a great door opened in the wall. A section of the unbroken white barrier simply rolled back to reveal a large opening.

“Don’t you just love automatic doors,” said Dutch and urged the flying platform towards it. But it was going to be a close call. Half a million charging Ahram had the same idea. ‘Please God let it stay open long enough for us to get through’ she thought.

 And then things got decidedly worse. Dutch saw her mistake. The door hadn’t opened to let them in – it had opened to let the Contrata out. Thousands of them were streaming out the opening towards the flying saucer, running in step in a close-formation massed-phalanx like a Roman legion, swords held high…probably to ward off any lightning bolts she may throw at them. Dutch slowed her headlong rush and reassessed the situation. Their only hope now was for the Ahram hordes to get in between them and the Contrata but they were still too far away. It looked like the Contrata were going to get to the flying saucer first. Now was the time to choose the lesser of two evils. Dutch wheeled the saucer around and headed for the nearest crowd of Ahram hoping to lose herself and her friends in the melee, if they survived the contact.

But once again she had misjudged the Contrata’s turn of speed. They were literally flying across the ground, racing to get to them before the crowd did. Closer and closer, the Contrata now split off into two groups, one heading for the closest mob to try and divert them and the other kept charging straight for the flying saucer. Dutch had an ugly feeling that a lot of people were going to get hurt. She knew what those swords could do and watched in trepidation as the first group of Contrata slammed into the Ahram front line. At first the phalanx held firm and cut into the crowd like a hot knife through butter, but then as ever more Ahram workers took the place of the fallen, the Contrata began to waver and lose their shape. There just weren’t enough of them and they were simply swallowed up. The Ahram hardly wavered in their headlong rush.

“Brace yourselves,” shouted Dutch, taking a firm grip on her crozier and prayed for a painless death.

Then everything happened at once.  The two opposing waves of Ahram met, terminating the second group of Contrata and harmlessly absorbing the humans into the fold. The herd mind of the Ahram seemed to be somehow sympathetic to them, like a great animal instinctively shielding and protecting its baby; any enemy of the Contrata was a friend of theirs. The two opposing fronts then swirled together and wheeled around in a large arc, the two streams flowing into one and heading straight for the gap in the wall where the Contrata had emerged. Through all this Dutch managed to keep the disc upright and soon they were gliding smoothly alongside the herd of galloping dinosaurs.

“Hold on tight,” she said again needlessly. The thought of getting trampled by this mob wasn’t worth thinking about, even though the Ahram seemed to be very aware of them. And then like magic, Eric was running alongside them, his newly fledged reptile legs thumping in the dust.

“Permission to come aboard sir” Dutch smiled at the ‘sir’ but let it go. She’d been called that before. She just nodded to him, needing all her concentration in going with the flow. From the corner of her eye Dutch saw Shim and the two girls running alongside too. Garm was also there but Dutch had no time to say hello.

“Try and keep together,” Dutch shouted across at Shim. “We’ll split off from this crowd once we’re inside the walls…then we can decide what to do.”

Shim nodded grimly.