Princess of Amathar (21 page)

Zoasians from around the massive hanger took up firing positions to counter our attack, and a tremendous firefight commenced. Several large guns on the taller of the two vehicles began firing, apparently not at all concerned at the damage to our surroundings. We were outnumbered at least four to one, not counting those large weapons, and there was little doubt that we would soon be wiped out if we stayed where we were. I shouted the only command that an Amatharian leader could make, under the circumstances.

"Charge!"

Rushing forward, I moved my pistol from my right to my left hand and drew my long sword. The entire company was right behind me. It was a glorious feeling, rushing toward the enemy with weapons firing all around. Of course the danger was quite real but it seemed at the time as though I couldn't be stopped, I was on the quest of a lifetime from which I could not be deterred.

At the same time, the Zoasians herding the prisoners onto the transport began to shove and kick their helpless charges. Some of the captive Amatharians fought back, and were shot down; others were knocked unconscious and were tossed into the great truck. Then the huge ramp-like door began to close, and the vehicle began to roll toward the hanger door which was slowly rolling upward. By the time that my men and I had crossed the hanger the Zoasian vehicle had rolled out through a great door into the eternal Ecosian day. There was no way that I could follow on foot, so leading my men, I ran up the ramp into the other mechanical monster. Once we were all inside, Terril Jennofar slammed his hand down on a panel, and the vehicle's hatch began to close. I made my way toward the forward compartment, and took a seat behind the control panel. It was not all that different from sitting behind the control panel of a helicopter, or perhaps more like the controls of a semi-truck, since there was a wheel, though it was way too far away from the seat for my taste.

Not being at all concerned with the state of Zoasian automotive technology at the time, I simply grabbed the wheel, and started throwing switches until the great monster began to roll forward. The cab had just exited the doorway into the sunlit outside when Terril Jennofar kneeled down beside me.

"All the Zoasians on this vehicle have been eliminated," he said.

"How many of us are aboard?" I asked.

"Eight, counting the two of us."

"Is that enough to operate this thing?"

"It really doesn't take that much. The Zoasians are surprisingly good at automation. We need only the driver, and perhaps a gunner or two."

"Good," I replied. "We need a gunner to stop the other vehicle. "Noriandara Remontar is aboard it." His eyes widened for a moment, and then he nodded and headed back.

The other vehicle was easily followed. It was not a matter of using a trail. The truck could be easily seen at all times just ahead of us. The difficulty was negotiating the smoking, burning, and occasionally exploding debris in the ruined path that had apparently been built just for these tremendous vehicles. The battle was over for the most part, but a few bombs still fell from the sky, a few missiles still flew overhead, and a few stray shots of energy weaponry buzzed in the air. It was far easier to dodge any ordinance though, than it was to dodge around collapsed buildings and fleeing pedestrians. Even though they were Zoasians, and technically enemies, I didn't feel right about just running over what appeared to be a civilian. A couple of Zoasians stepped out with ray guns aimed in my direction. Those, I ran over. Just about the time that I was really starting to get the hang of steering the monstrous device, we left the edge of the city and began crossing the desert that faced the far side of Zonamis.
Chapter Twenty One: In Pursuit

The two Zoasian vehicles rushed across the sandy expanse of the Ecosian desert. At times, I was sure that I was gaining on the other transport, but then at other times there seemed to be a widening of the space between us. One thing was for sure. The Zoasian in control of the first craft was a far better driver than I was. I was continually flying out of my seat as I bumped over some obstacle, and I am sure that my Amatharian passengers were similarly troubled.

At that moment a missile fired from some section of my vehicle below me. Evidently Terril Jennofar had found a gunner, or was manning a missile station himself. The projectile impacted just to the left of the fleeing vehicle. Seconds later a second missile shot forth, and this one was better aimed than the first. It hit the right rear wheel of the fleeing vehicle. For a moment it looked as though there would be a great crash, but the Zoasian driver regained control of the now smoking, crippled truck and continued on, albeit at a slower pace. I was sure now that we would be able to catch it. Just then a massive explosion from below racked my own vehicle. I was lifted completely out of the driver's seat, and hurled across the compartment, as the car turned first left and then right, and then began to flip over wildly. The cabin spun around and around, and my head was dashed against some piece of equipment, sending me into the darkness of unconsciousness.

When I came too, I was lying in the sand beside the great mass of bent metal that had once been the great Zoasian vehicle. A good half pound of sand was glued to the side of my face by a mass of dried blood, and my left arm was bent backwards at the wrist, obviously broken. I pulled my tabard off and using my knife and my one good arm, cut several strips from it. I wiped the mess from my face as best I could with the rest, and then discarded it, keeping only the tiny ornament that Nona Montendro had given me to wear. I straightened out my arm with a great deal of pain and effort, and finding a straight piece of metal from the wreck and the cloth strips, splinted it. I then determined to set the break. I grabbed hold of a bar on the main part of the wreck with my left hand and leaned my body back as hard as I could. As blinding pain shot from my arm to my brain, I once again lost consciousness.

I don't think that I was unconscious very long. When I woke up, I was dismayed to find that my arm was still not set. I set about trying the same procedure again. I was rewarded with two barely audible snaps, as my bones found their proper locations. Though I didn't lose consciousness this second time, I was forced to lie back on the sand for several minutes trying to inhale and recover my wits. Once my arm was stabilized, I began to look around for any other survivors of the wreck. I found two of my companions lying in the sand and another partially buried in the wreckage. All were dead. Near the rear of the mess was the body of Terril Jennofar. He was mangled almost beyond recognition, and yet when I approached, he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"I am sorry,” he said. "It is my fault. I accidentally ignited the missile, as I was attempting to load it."

"It's not your fault,” I said. "I will report you well."

"Rescue her..." Then he was dead.

I was once again all alone on the planet Ecos, but I knew where my duty lay. The path of the other vehicle through the sand was plainly visible, so I set off after it. It was tough going through the desert, as the sand was soft, which made walking a chore. It was not as hot though, as one might have anticipated from such a locale. It was a pleasant seventy five degrees, or there about, and had the situation been different, it might have made for a pleasant hike.

It didn't seem as though I had walked all that far, when I came over a rise in the ground to look on the wreckage of the second truck. It seemed that the damaged wheel had finally fallen off, and the driver had been unable to keep the vehicle from rolling over on its side. There seemed to be a relatively small amount of damage--certainly nothing to warrant the array of bodies , both Amatharian and Zoasian, strewn across the desert floor.

I drew my sword and carefully approached, but there seemed to be no one left alive. Happily, the Princess was nowhere to be seen. So where was she, and were there any others missing? I began to look around to see if I could find any clues on the subject, when I came across the body of an Amatharian woman. She was dead, face down in the sand, but before she had died, she had scrawled something in the sand. It was "UURSH POCH."

I had no idea what Uursh Poch might mean, though it was written using Amatharian letters. Very near to the body of the woman though, I noticed strange tracks that seemed to lead away from the crash site. The tracks were about two inches across, and were round and deep. It was as though an army of pogo sticks had marched through this region. As I started off once again, I began to wonder just how many trails I would be forced to follow on my quest.

This trail was as easy to follow, if not easier, than the vehicle tracks, had been. The pogo sticks began to group together after awhile so that they formed a road of holes about ten or twelve feet wide. It went straight through the desert, and did not veer around plants or large rocks, but went right over them. It went up and down the banks of dry river beds, and across ranges of small hills. I followed along for what seemed like days. Still, the eternal Ecosian sun stayed high above my head. The Swiss cheese trail finally led across a stream bed which was not dry. It was no raging torrent either. There was a small trickle of a stream, maybe a foot wide and two inches deep winding its way through the forty foot wide stream bed. Here and there were pools of stagnant water and a few stunted trees. I lay down on my stomach and looked into the tiny streamlet. There were patches of moss growing on the submerged pebbles, and a few tiny fish-like critters swam away from me, so I decided that the water was at least not poisonous, and taking a great gulp, I found it very tasty. I first filled my canteen, really nothing but a small flask which fit into my belt case, and then I filled my stomach with the cool, refreshing liquid. It was then that I noticed a reddish cloud spreading in the water, and remembered the bloody mess still on my face. Using a handful of wet sand as a cleanser, I washed the caked and matted hemoglobin from my face and hair.

Once my thirst had been slaked, I realized that I was in need of rest. I had been on the go for some time, and the effect of my injuries was to add to my weariness. I crawled over to the closest of the short, bent, ugly trees, and lying beneath it, went to sleep. When I woke up, for a moment, I didn't realize where I was. The curious thing was, that I did not imagine myself back on earth, but in my dreaming state had expected to wake and find myself in Amathar.

I opened my eyes to gaze into the three large eyes and seven small eyes of a large arachnoid. For a moment I thought I was once again a captive of the Pell, but this was just a small predator that had stopped to see if I were alive or food. He was about twice the size of my hand, and when I sat up, he scurried along on his way. Before I stood, I took stock of my injuries, to make sure that any wounds left unattended would not hamper my mission. With the exception of the head injury, now no longer bleeding, and the broken arm, which was beginning to throb like nobody's business, I was unharmed. I stood up and continued on.

A slight breeze seemed to be whipping up from behind me, and I began to worry that the pogo stick trail would be obscured by blowing sand. I reasoned though that I had some time before that occurred, as the holes were five or six inches deep. I needn't have worried anyway, as the breeze died down before I had gone more than ten miles past the little stream.

After another ten miles, I reached a line of strangely jagged rocks protruding from the ground. They were not the kind that I would normally have preferred to climb, even without a broken arm, but as they seemed to go off quite a distance both to my left and my right, I seemed to have little choice. I climbed up to the top of the strange jagged line with great difficulty and came face to face with the strange sight which lay beyond. I quickly dropped down onto my stomach atop the jagged rocks, cutting my knee in the process.

I now knew what made the pogo stick tracks. Below me were eight very strange beings. Each possessed ten long insect-like legs--perhaps mosquito-like would be a better description, for the ten to twelve foot long extremities made these things look quite like mosquitoes. The rest of the creature did not seem at all like an insect however. The bodies were about the size of a man, with a covering of very short grey fur. At the top or front of the body, were two "arms", at the end of which were two eyes, a gaping mouth, and an array of small feelers and tentacles. I surmised and was later proven correct, that though the arms held both eyes and mouths, the brain resided within the body of the beast. I had no doubt that these creatures were the Uursh Poch. I had followed a trail, all too easily identifiable as theirs, from the site of the wreck, and besides, they had prisoners: five Amatharians, and one Zoasian. These six people, for I will include Zoasians within that term though I had learned to consider them enemies, were lying on the ground, their wrists tied with some type of cord. At that moment one of the Uursh Poch grabbed one of the Amatharians, using the tentacles of both arms, then wrapping one of the arms around the hapless victim's torso, freed the other appendage and used the disgusting mouth there to take a huge bite out of the Amatharian's chest. The poor fellow let out a scream and I jumped to my feet.

Unfortunately I couldn't just run forward and attack. The side of the rocks facing the Amatharians and their enemies was just as jagged and sharp as the side which I had climbed. I began to climb down the knife-like obstacles as fast as I could. I did my best to remain as quiet as possible, though I yearned to shout out that I was on my way. I couldn't take the chance of the Uursh Poch attacking me before I reached level ground. Considering their legs, I am sure that they would have had the advantage. About halfway down the rocks, I stopped momentarily to see what was going on below. The poor victim of the Uursh Poch was now halfway devoured, and others of the bizarre, long-legged monsters were starting to do likewise with the other hostages. I redoubled my efforts and quickly reached the bottom of the rocks. I crossed the distance from the base of the ridge to the horrifying scene in several quick bounds.