_________________________
A.R.Yngve DARC AGES Book Three _________________________ |
|
![]() Kamo Yota |
|
Chapter 38
Dohan put the Sunray on a low, sweeping course along the circle of islands. He had no plan but to keep fighting until he ran out of fuel, firepower or hope. First, he had to deal with the fastest of the enemy fighters. The Roaring Wind came into his sight, several kilometers away, and swept down against him from the opposite direction -- very fast. Kamo Yota, piloting his needle-nosed craft alone, had dreamt of this kind of duel for years; he had not yet gotten the chance of fighting the Damons in tournament, in spite of his great talent. This would be his final test of supremacy, to ensure his status as the youngest knight-champion of Castilia. So confident was he of his superior skill that he now indulged in a game of chicken. Kamo forgot his fear of the new and alien environment; his fear of failure was much greater. The Sunray and The Roaring Wind flew head-on toward each other; either pilot had a few seconds' time to alter course. Only moments before impact, Dohan reflexively banked off. They zoomed past each other -- and a backdraft from The Roaring Wind hit the slower Sunray and tossed it into a spin. Dohan fought with the controls, and pulled up the plane just before it hit the peak of an island. His conscious mind now shut off, Dohan obeyed his gut feeling and set course straight for Fogo. In the rearview periscope, Dohan could spot the distant shape of The Roaring Wind -- plus another, slower craft closing in from the south. He accelerated up into the clouds, G-forces pressed him into the padded seat and his vision blurred. This was as far as his father's ship had ever been pushed -- until it reached cloud level. The clouds consisted not only of water, but also of poisonous gas and dust from the ongoing eruption. Even as the Sunray skimmed the lowest haze of gray, its engines started to make grinding noises. In a blink, Dohan saw engine temperature rise and exhaust effect fall. He let the craft drop down, and the engine noise receded to a less threatening level. |
|
Then suddenly Kamo Yota was behind him, firing his cannons. Red lines blinked past the windshield -- Dohan put his ship into a downward-spinning roll, then leveled out just in time to avoid diving into the dark sea. Kamo circled a hundred meters above him, waiting for a new opening. Both knew that The Roaring Wind had an Achilles' heel -- its greater speed gave it a very large turning radius. Dohan saw the volcanic inferno rapidly grow in size and fill up the windshield before him. From the crater billowed cascades of molten slag, a hundred meters high or more, and a constant, opaque torrent of smoke was reaching up to the clouds. The smoking crater was much larger than he had imagined -- perhaps three hundred meters across, almost engulfing the little island in blackish, smoking lava streams. The surrounding sea boiled and steamed, and the Sunray abruptly passed through thick veils of mist. The rising mist gave only moments of cover from Kamo's laser fire -- moments to think. Dohan banked his craft, circled the crater in passing -- and he knew what to do.
A short figure came staggering through the shrubbery, into the clearing where the plateau lay; Darc and the others had not heard him approach, due to the noise of the advancing Pasko troops. They took aim at the figure; in the next moment, they saw that it was Mechao. His once white clothes were grimy with dust and, and he wheezed asthmatically. Meijji rushed forward and caught her exhausted father in her arms. "Where have you been?" they asked. Mechao was too breathless to speak; he merely waved in an eastward direction. "The village? You ran all the way here from the village?" his children asked incredulously -- the trail was at least half a kilometer long. He grinned faintly, then gestured for Darc to come closer. Mechao wheezed into his ear, barely audible: "Took drug to make the run... I planted... old forbidden weapon... in village... make the enemies go there -- don't touch doors... then run away... from invisible gas." The old doctor fainted. His two oldest sons tended to him, while Darc ran off toward the village. He left his helmet and shield behind to make the effort; his injured arm was enough of a bother already. Skipping over rocks and logs, avoiding burning grass, coughing from the acrid air, Darc sensed what Mechao had been talking about. The old man had recreated one of the weapons that had been used in the Great Wars. |
|