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A.R.Yngve

DARC AGES Book Three
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Chapter 29


In the following morning, as Darc was preparing the radio soundstage for a new broadcast, he spotted something in a dark corner. It was a working model of a radio receiver, built into a wooden frame, the size of a knapsack -- the type they had been spreading blueprints for, before sending any actual messages. Darc blinked at the frame of tubes and circuits that was gathering dust under a sheet, and hesitated... then it dawned on him.

"Damn!" he shouted, and slapped his forehead. "What was I thinking?"

Darc rushed over and carried the radio receiver into the lamplight. He walked across the laboratory to the central table that held the power switchboard. From here, the electrical current from the transformer station far below was directed to various parts of the mansion and the local villages. He found an adjustable power socket, tuned down the voltage enough to fit the tiny receiver, and connected it. He put on the earphones, and switched on the radio box.

Slowly, he turned the radio's crude tuning dial across the spectrum of frequencies, and listened carefully for voices. For several minutes, he heard nothing but white noise and random static. He realized that the rock catacombs were blocking most signals coming from the outside. So he moved the receiver over to the soundstage, and connected it to the broadcasting antenna -- it should work just as well for taking in signals. As he tuned in this time, Darc stumbled on a loud voice, surprisingly undisturbed and clear.

"Jesus," Darc whispered to himself. "Of all the people in the world, it had to be you..."

It was Bor Damon's authoritative voice he heard, coming in from Castilia.

"And it should be obvious even to my enemies," the voice explained with painstaking slowness, "that this military alliance should not, in any event, be led by Sir Tharlos Pasko. He is far too young for such a responsibility. His book of merits show nothing but one failure after another. Sir Tharlos's attempt to take my city with force failed, though his forces were larger and armed with new weapons.

"It has come to my knowledge, that an unknown third party in the north is supplying Sir Tharlos's forces with a new type of robots -- war robots. These failed to help him take Damon City, but they caused a great loss of lives and should be considered highly dangerous. If these robots are used in his crusade against Darc, they will be a source of widespread death and injury.

"I wish to emphasize, as I have done before, that I do not support any side in this coming conflict. It is merely my earnest wish, to avoid the dangerous concentration of power under a dishonest tyrant such as Tharlos Pasko. His family was once allied with my own, but he betrayed that alliance most shamefully. This should be a lesson to all his present allies..."


Darc sat transfixed by what he heard, and dared not miss anything of Bor's winding speech. It was at least an hour long, and rather wooden -- but a godsend. When Bor finally ceased his speech, Darc knew a great deal more of what was about to happen. His worst suspicions were confirmed, and he hurried to find Dohan and tell him.



"You heard my father? And he is well?" Dohan asked eagerly.

Darc nodded impatiently: "Yes, yes, your city is safe so far. But we are not. Tharlos and his new alliance will attack the main island anytime soon. We must move all the islanders away from here, now!"

They were pacing toward the central dining hall as they talked, to discuss the matter with Mechao and Amada. Meijji was already alerted and on her way.

Dohan grinned cynically, and said: "Where could they escape -- to the mainland? All of them at once? No, they must hide or fight."

"They are good at hiding, sure, but Tharlos know we're here and he won't stop searching until he finds something."

"So it is to fight, then. I've taught the islanders. Their weapons and defenses are nearly ready. Most of them are women, but... "

Darc chose to ignore that last foolish remark, and they entered the mansion's large dining hall. When Amada and Mechao had arrived, Meijji came, in the company of her brothers. They listened in tense silence as Darc explained about Bor Damon's radio speech.



Later in the day, Darc summarized the situation: "Tharlos Pasko is preparing to attack this island now. Dohan's father is reinforcing his own forces back in Castilia, in order to stand against Tharlos's new alliance. And we have nowhere to turn to for help."

Amada spoke, grave and cool in the face of danger: "Your radio campaign... and Dohan's father's radio messages... they must have been heard by many city people. This is something new to us, that one or two men can be heard across the entire world. Could this not be of some help?"

Dohan was the first one to come up with a response to her query, while scratching his ruddy beard with a quizzical expression on is face.

"I was thinking the same. This radio device can be used to mobilize people against Tharlos, and it will... but it will not make an army race to our rescue. That simply won't happen."

He looked to Darc.

Darc asked Mechao and Amada, as he studied a map of the region: "How do you reckon the mainland cities here in Awrica will react to the radio broadcasts? Will they join Tharlos? I have no information about their intentions, and they are the closest to us."

Mechao shook his head, frowning.

"No one knows. You were inside the Old City of Dakchaor yourself -- what did you learn about the city-dwellers and their intentions?"

Everyone in the dining hall looked to Darc for an answer.

He shrugged uncertainly, and replied: "Nothing, really. They are so different from the city-folks up north -- I can't explain them."

Mechao stepped forth, folding his arms behind his back. A stern, hard appearance was about him -- as if the crisis had brought out a harsher version of the old witchdoctor.

"This is the main island; most of our population lives here. They can hide on the other, smaller islands, or on the northern volcanic island, Fogo... unless Fogo erupts soon." He turned to his wife -- they were not so different in height, but Amada's thicker build and higher shoes made him look slight in her presence. "My dear," he asked gravely, "what does the sea tell you?"

Darc blinked, confused by Mechao's question. Amada moved to a tall window, gazed outside and said nothing for a while. The seabirds outside made little noise; even the sounds of insects and the sea appeared to settle down.

Then she spoke, in a voice that sounded distant: "Fogo is awakening. Within the next few days, the volcano shall erupt again. All islands to the north are in danger. It shall last for many days. An earthquake comes too, bringing storms and giant waves in its wake. The air shall be filled with ash and fire."

Amada's heavy eyelids fluttered a little -- had she been in a brief trance?

She resumed in her normal voice: "I will spread the word. We must prepare to leave the islands for the mainland, until the eruption is over."

Darc asked: "When was the last time Fogo had a major eruption?"

"Four, maybe five hundred years ago," Amada said quickly.

Darc shut his eyes, letting the news sink in. A major volcanic eruption was the last thing a reasonable person would want to stay near.

"We must move Eye-Leg out of the laboratory and into the village. We cannot risk her getting buried if the mansion caves in."

Later, the meeting broke up. Everyone went to work, eager to finish what could be finished while there was still time...