The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (117 page)

The conclusion was devastating. If there was no way that she and the other component carriers could get to the weapon, then there was no way they could disable or destroy it. Annata had said nothing about a barrier, but as Keris discovered, her people, for all their tremendous achievements, were not infallible. They had been wrong about the Chandara; their attempt to preserve Boxx’s people in this world had only ended up threatening the creatures with extinction.

Annata was gone—dead for three thousand turns and more. Her people were all dead, their great cities turned to rubble. Any further communication from the woman from the past was unlikely. This was Keris’s world. If it was going to be saved, it would be by her hand. As she considered the problem, an amended plan began to form in her mind. But she could not put it into effect here and now. She was sure that Lyall was not going to like it, but she would deal with that when the time came.

The existence of the barrier complicated matters, but ironically, it also meant that they were all likely to live a little longer—a few more hours at least. Of course, she had little doubt that the eventual outcome would be the same; she would almost certainly have to detonate the weapon herself, killing all of them.

Still, first things first. Locate Boxx. Escape this place. Then find a lone hu-man...

~

The initial part of the plan seemed to be proving the most difficult. Boxx appeared to have vanished utterly. Keris moved stealthily over the latticework of supports and light fittings, scouring every corner of the immense floor, but there was no sign of the shelled creature. The hu-mans below moved at a routine pace, suggesting that the emergency was over. If they had managed to corner the Chandara, there would surely still be a ruckus. That left two possibilities: Either it had managed to get clean away, or they had killed it.

That last possibility filled her with dread. As far as the hu-mans were concerned, the Chandara would have been nothing more than a wild animal that had broken into their facility. They would have no compunction about hunting it down and exterminating it. However, her extensive search revealed no sign of a body. Keris permitted herself a small sigh of relief and set about planning her own escape.

Boxx’s little ruse had cleared the main part of the floor and the catwalk, allowing her to reach the central spheres unobserved. Now, however, hu-mans were moving freely about those areas. Returning by the way she had come did not seem feasible.

Keris turned slowly and carefully, examining her surroundings. Her gaze settled on an irregularity in the sloping ceiling. She began crawling towards it.
A skylight.
She found the catch and pulled on it gently. Metal scraped against metal as it began to lift. Keris checked to make sure that the gangway beneath her was clear of hu-mans; then she pushed the skylight open and climbed through.

The dark-haired woman rose through the corrugated roof and glanced up at a starlit sky. The night was suffused with a damp cold that gnawed at her bones. Keris shrugged it off and headed down the gradually sloping roof. She reached the end and flattened herself, so that she could peer over the edge.

The area around the building was lit up as bright as day by the powerful arc lights that were stationed around it at regular intervals. No hu-mans were in evidence. She continued watching while scanning for lodestone. Ignoring the push from the globes in the building below and behind her, she pulled back and crept along the roof, seeking a natural deposit in the ground below which would be sufficiently strong to break her leap. Soon she sensed the familiar pressure on her shoulders. It was coming from a point near the perimeter. Keris checked once more. There was no movement below. The only sound was a faint buzzing that emanated from the brilliant lamps. She stood up, took her bearings, and then leapt from the roof.

Her cloak billowed out behind her—a great crimson shadow blotting out the stars. She tweaked the boost control—that was what Rael had called it—just enough to carry her across the gap and into the sphere of influence of the deposit she had located. Then she angled her lodestone layer towards the natural source, using it as a brake. Her boots hit the ground just beyond the lighted area, and she came to a running stop. She crouched down and checked over her shoulder. All was still quiet. Satisfied, she began moving rapidly away from the human facility, making for higher ground.

A short while later, she arrived back at the outcrop, overlooking the building. There was little more she could do tonight. Time to select a place to make camp.
A shuffling noise.
Keris whipped around and drew her staff. The sound was coming from behind a boulder. She moved towards it, ready to strike.

The shuffling sounded again, and a small-shelled creature with a round head waddled into view. It stood up on hind limbs and regarded her with its shining black eyes. “Hello, Keris.”

A wave of relief washed through her and the corners of her eyes began to mist. She blinked the tears away. Her first impulse was to ask the Chandara how it managed to escape, but she found that she didn’t care. All that mattered was that the creature was safe. She decided instead to scold it. “That was a very dangerous thing you did in there—very dangerous indeed. You could have been killed, you know that?” Boxx continued staring at her, its eyes shining like black stars. “Thank you,” she added, her voice cracking.

“Did We Win?” it asked.

“Not exactly, no.” Boxx waited for her to elaborate. “There is a... a barrier of some sort protecting the weapon. Or weapons,” she said, remembering the three globes. “At any rate, it seems to block approach by anyone except hu-mans.”

“You Will Pass Through It, Keris.”

She smiled wryly at the forest dweller’s childlike confidence in her abilities. Still, it was right. They had to find a way past the barrier. She sheathed her staff and began moving off towards the hills. Boxx watched the tall woman, its mouth rippling soundlessly. Then it dropped to all sixes and trotted obediently after her.

<><><><><>

Chapter 9

A jarring bump that travelled through his entire body brought McCann to full wakefulness. Immediately he regretted it. The back of his head was a world of scarlet agony. He squeezed his eyes shut. Gradually the pain eased to an angry ache, and he forced one eye open. Puffy clouds drifted lazily in a bright blue sky. His body jigged up and down, and a hard surface slapped against his shoulder blades. He tried to move, but his arms and legs would not budge.

With an effort that caused his head to scream in protest once more, McCann twisted his neck. He was lying in the back of a wooden cart that jerked and rolled along. Thick ropes secured his body; he was trussed up like a turkey. Instinctively, he struggled against the bonds, but they held fast. He filled his lungs with air and yelled,
“Hey.”
There was no reply. The cart trundled on regardless.
“Hey there. Whoever you are—let me go.”

The cart slowed and creaked to a halt. He heard an animal sound, not unlike a horse whinnying—except that there were no horses on this world. The buckboard creaked as someone mounted the cart from the rear. A face appeared over him. It was Kelanni, but it was not the same individual he remembered from the mountain. This one was younger, his skin a lighter shade of olive, his expression more nervous—less self-assured. “Yer awake,” he said. “Jus’ lie still an’ keep quiet.”

McCann struggled again, flexing his muscles—testing the restraints. “Let me go,” he repeated.

The Kelanni’s eyes flicked back and forth, as if he was terrified that he was about to be discovered at any moment. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

McCann decided to try another tack. “Where are you taking me?”

The other hesitated as if debating with himself whether to reply. “Kieroth. I’m takin’ ya t’ Kieroth.”

Kieroth also happened to be McCann’s destination. He needed to contact an operative and arrange a way back to Helice. So at least he was headed in the right direction. “Why are you taking me there?”

“I’m turnin’ y’over t’ the Directorate.”

McCann’s heart sank.
If they get hold of me, then I’m finished. I’ve got to get out of this somehow.
He slowed his movements while continuing to test the ropes surreptitiously. “Why hand me over to them?”

The alien turned away. “I’m sorry. I ’ave na choice.”

He had apologised twice now—a sign of weakness. This creature was acting against his natural inclinations. That provided a glimmer of hope, at least.
Perhaps a little applied psychology... ?
“My name is Alexander McCann. What are you called?”

That same hesitation again. “Yaron.”

“Are you one of those that carried me off the glacier?” Yaron nodded and dropped his eyes. “Then I am grateful to you for my life. Your people—the Kelanni—they tricked me. Abandoned me on the mountain.”

Yaron’s face creased up. “I... I don’ believe ya.”

“It’s the truth,” McCann declared, making his voice sound as genuine as he could manage. “I just want to get back to my people— nothing more. Please, let me go.”

Yaron appeared distinctly unhappy. “I can’t. I ’ave t’ turn y’ in maself. It’s th’ only way.”

“What do you mean?” the engineer asked.

“Coreall told Yonach t’ turn ya in t’ the Directorate. Yonach won’ do that. But if he don’t an’ they find out, they’ll pull ’is licence. The family’ll lose its liveli’ood. So it’s up t’me. I gotta do it. I gotta turn ya in.”

“But if you do that, won’t they still accuse this Yonach of keeping secrets and punish him anyway?”

“I’ll say I found ya an’ brought ya in m’self. No one’ll know any different.” The young Kelanni looked scared. But he also looked determined.

“My people, the humans,” McCann began, “if you don’t let me go, they will be very angry. They could take retribution against your people.” He was going to add, “and you would be responsible,” but he stopped himself.
Careful. Don’t push him too hard.

Yaron shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I can’t take th’ risk.” His Kelanni face disappeared. Soon, the wagon lurched forward and resumed its lumbering progress. McCann laid back, satisfied with his performance. He hadn’t expected that he would be set free immediately, but the doubt he had sown would gradually take root and grow in the youngster’s mind. When the moment came, it would only take a split second of indecision on the part of his captor, and the engineer would have the upper hand.

As the cart bounced along, McCann pulled and twisted at his bindings, straining ever closer towards freedom.

~

Keris determined that her next task was to head back to the ship in order to share the information she had gathered about the hu-man weapon and to convince Lyall and the others to pursue her plan. Soon she had left the hills behind and was making her way southwest over a landscape of broken slate and fast-flowing rills.

Hardy grasses and vines poked between the cracks and the patches of melting snow. Silvery fish plopped in the streams, and whilst there was nothing the size of a dagan or a raleketh, she did spot a large-eared, furry creature with a pointed snout that closely resembled the jarka of the Eastern Plains. Chances were it would make a good meal, but Keris did not want to take the time to hunt right now. She wanted to be back at the ship by nightfall.

Of course, it was possible that Lyall and Alondo would still be out looking for Shann and Rael, in which case she would have to set out to find them. The more time that passed, however, the greater the chance would be that the young people had not survived. The loss of two of the four component bearers would spell the end of Annata’s scheme. In that case she would come right out and propose her suicide plan.

If necessary, she was prepared to implement it on her own, but she was sure that Lyall with his martyr complex would want to join her. She was equally certain that he would order Patris to set sail and get the others as far away as possible. She could live with that. Between the two of them, they could get the job done. A failed Keltar and a failed revolutionary. Neither of them had a place to go back to. It would be a fitting end.

As they picked their way along the bank of a babbling brook, Boxx chatted amiably, oblivious of the dark plan swirling at the back of her mind.

“I Like This Place,” it declared.

“You do?” she said.

“Yes, Except...”

Her curiosity was aroused. “Except what?”

“Except There Are Not Enough Trees.”