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A.R.Yngve DARC AGES _________________________ |
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The Sunray in flight |
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Chapter 14
The very same evening, Dohan took the elevator to the aircraft hangar at the top floor of the castle. The dozen jet-engine craftsmen present were not surprised to see Dohan; he was an avid follower of their work with the family arsenal of flying armor and vessels. They greeted him casually, and continued their maintenance shift. Dohan inspected his own private training vehicle: a teardrop-shaped beauty with two small jet tubes at the tips of sloping, thick wings. It was a two-seater -- but it could never fly from Castilia to Kap Verita on a single load of fuel. And once he got away, Lord Damon might alert his allies via the laser transmission network. If Dohan tried to land for refueling, he would be caught and arrested. The family had a few well-used transporter jets, for carrying troops and trading merchandise -- bulky, reliable, but slow and not with enough range. Besides, taking one would leave the city too vulnerable. Dohan was left with one choice. Their private family flagship and battle fighter through forty years, Lord Damon's pride: the Sunray. Sixteen tons of gleaming, sleek steel and aluminum, with an expansion tank that could last halfway around the world. Its cabin, unlike most other Castilian aircraft, was pressurized and no oxygen-masks were needed. The Sunray also sported an air-cooled front laser cannon, and a turret-mounted tail gun. The ship could house up to seven seats, but Dohan needed just two. He checked with the craftsmen; they assured him the Sunray was in perfect working order. Dohan called for their full attention, and explained that since they had done such good work with his battle armor, and helped him win the Joust, he and his father wanted to reward them. Dohan handed each of them a gold coin, and gave them early leave. The staff bowed, thanked him heartily, and left the hangar in a happy mood. As soon as the men were out of hearing range, Dohan began to pump synthetic fuel into the Sunray's expansion tank. The guards, standing outside, saw nothing. The sun had set by the time he was finished, and he was getting tired from the heavy work. From a toolbox, Dohan took the item he needed to free Darc. Dohan approached Lachtfot, who stood posted outside Darc's chamber-door. The castle lamps were subdued, which hardly bothered the robot -- it had infrared vision, and had just recharged its battery cells. Lachtfot recognized Dohan's voice immediately. "Good evening, Lachtfot." "Good evening, my lord." "Let me inside. I must see if Darc is well." "Sir Darc is very sick and must not be disturbed, my lord." "I will not awake him; just let me have a look." Dohan stepped closer to the door. The machine-servant blocked the door-handle with one firm metal hand. "I must ask Bor Damon for permission to let you inside, my lord. He does not want be awakened iiiIIIP!!" Dohan had slammed a concave piece of aluminum, a miniature mirror, onto the visorplate of the robot's head -- and held it there. The light-beams from Lachtfot's eye-sensors were reflected by the mirror, bounced back into them, were sent out again, reflected and bounced back, and so on. Within a second, this feedback of signals caused an epileptic fit in the robot's brain -- it lost its balance and clattered to the floor, flailing its limbs helplessly. Quickly, Dohan sneaked into Darc's quarters and shrugged him awake. Darc, though very tired, instantly grasped the situation and staggered to his feet. Dohan took Darc's diary and his few belongings, and helped him out into the elevator. They managed to get into the hangar bay unseen. Supported on Dohan's strong arms, Darc stumbled up the cargo ramp into the rear section of the Sunray. He was buckled up in a couch seat, and given some drink from a bottle. "How far will we travel?" Darc asked in a faint voice. "South of the land of Espa," the young pilot replied. As he spoke, Dohan fastened himself to his pilot seat, checking and starting up the ship's engines. "I have taken the controls a few times on this ship," he explained, "but my father has much more experience flying the Sunray." He turned in his seat, and gave Darc an encouraging smile. "Have no worry, Darc. I am certain you must be under the Goddess's special protection." When the engines started, filling the ship cabin with vibrations and noise, Darc began to suspect the trip might in fact shorten his life span by several days. But he held on to life all he could. The Sunray roared out of the hangar bay; the noise awakened the entire castle, and the city as well. As soon as Bor understood what had happened, he barked orders at his staff: "Prepare a carrier for pursuit! Alert our allies -- they must not fire at the ship, whatever happens! And -- if news of this reaches our enemies, every man in this castle will be banished to the Wastelands!" His family members comforted each other through the night, anxiously awaiting the news of Dohan and Darc's whereabouts. Dohan increased the Sunray's speed carefully, so that the acceleration would not harm Darc. The aircraft effortlessly climbed up through the dark clouds, until he could put it at a steady altitude of about 10,000 meters. He accelerated it to top speed -- below the speed of sound -- and set a straight southwestern course toward Kap Verita. Dohan estimated the flight would take little more than four hours. Cabin pressure was steady, with plenty of oxygen to spare. He switched on the autopilot and unbuckled himself from the seat, suppressing a yawn. Until this moment, Dohan had managed to avoid thinking about what would happen after Darc was saved; now the gravity of his own situation was beginning to sink in. To escape such gloomy prospects, he went over to Darc and helped him loose. Dohan sat down on a wall seat and asked: "Darc, tell me about the world in your time. Was it like Librian taught us – a Golden Age?" The white-haired man chuckled, turned his head to watch the troubled youngster next to him, and said: "Yes... and no. In many ways it was worse, in many ways better. We never conquered the stars -- or perhaps that happened after I was frozen, I don't know. "In my days, the Goddess and the Singing King were just people -- they were worshipped of course, but we didn't think of them as gods -- not yet." He sighed, thinking of all he had left behind -- and what Dohan must have left behind in order to save him. "Dohan... do you have a girl waiting for you back home? You know -- someone special?" Dohan's brow wrinkled -- his parents had constantly been reminding him about the matter of marriage for the past two years. "I have not decided upon a wife yet, no. Soon, my parents will arrange a bride for me." He made an excusing grin, and added: "I mean, there have been women in my life -- nothing official, of course. The women of our cities, they..." "They are not pretty? I think they are." "Yes, but... I am born a nobleman, a protector of the city. Everyone expects me to be and act my father. He is so... I love and respect him, but I cannot..." "You cannot be him." Dohan was greatly relieved. Here was another man he could talk to without feeling the burden of his own authority -- someone who did not grovel, nor answer with platitudes of duty and destiny. He eagerly went on: "Yes, that's it! And when I try to talk to a lady about this, she turns less interested... she only sees my power, my position, but she does not see me. Sometimes I think our city is... a prison." Darc shook his head slowly, chuckling again. Dohan frowned. "You think it sounds strange?" he said nervously. "No, you are perfectly normal. Just like any well-bred young man in my time. Your father should be proud of you. Trust me." Dohan's sinking spirits soared again; he was not sure how this was going to end, but once more he was certain he was doing what was right. The autopilot's clock rang, waking Dohan from his slumber. He looked out: the sun was rising over the glittering ocean. The Kap Verita archipelago lay straight ahead; he took the jet craft into a slight dive for a closer sweep. As he banked the ship down to one side, he could discern ten or more jagged, gray-brown islands of various shapes and sizes -- scattered over a stretch of a few hundred kilometers. To the north, a faint plume of smoke was emerging from the highest mountain peak of a larger island. Dohan turned the Sunray in a wide orbit over the southern string of islands; within a few minutes, he was circling the largest and greenest piece of land there. The landscape below was full of ridges and sharp peaks, but there were no apparent signs of active civilization. A city ruin, with traces of streets and a harbor, was all that suggested people had once lived there. There were outlines of terraced fields – but they could be abandoned, for all he knew. Dohan did not give up, though; witchdoctors and their associates were said to be secretive. He brought the craft down to the harbor ruins, and landed in the shadow of a high cliff. Flocks of squeaking seagulls scattered into the clear sky, as the jet craft stirred up clouds of dust among their nests. Dohan watched them fly off; never had he seen so many birds at once! In his homeland, most birds had been exterminated centuries ago. Dohan went to the aft section, and helped Darc free himself from the couch. From the armory cabinet, he took a heavy laser rifle, a polished shield, a reflective visor helmet -- and a light sword. "I will go out and scout the terrain for signs of people. There is water and food here. I have a special key to open the aft port -- if anyone tries to force his way inside, just stay here. If you have to, use the cannons, but then you risk overheating the cabin." He felt at Darc's forehead -- it was hot and moist with fever. "Darc, you must try to stay alive. The Goddess will watch over you." "Thanks," Darc said wearily. "'Let's be careful out there.'" "What?" Dohan could not understand the English phrase. "Nothing," Darc smiled. "A joke. Go. I'll be fine." Dohan put on the helmet and slid the reflecting visor down over his eyes. He walked over to the aft port, and pulled the lever that caused the cargo ramp to extend down to the ground. Quickly, he opened the port and stepped out into the blazing sun -- shutting the port after him. Left alone in the ship, Darc drifted into a wavering sleep. He felt as if he had not days, but hours left before the virus had drained all life from him. Should I pray to the Goddess or to God? he thought ironically. |
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