Still Falling: Book 1: Solstice 31 Saga (9 page)

“Two hours and forty minutes. It's exactly the opposite direction from Greenwarren, Barcus. Ash and I can go directly there at top speed. It will save almost six hours if we don’t come back. We might beat them there.”

“GO!” Barcus actually yelled.

Em appeared. Just popped in. She never did that. “Par and Ash are moving toward Greenwarren at maximum speed, Barcus. If the soldiers linger in that town, we will get there in plenty of time.”

“I will arrive in about three hours at present speed. Ash is riding with me,” came another, very different woman’s voice, deeper. She sounded older. She had an accent he could not place.

“Is that Par, Em?” Barcus asked.

“I'm sorry, Barcus. Yes, that is Pardosa. From now on, you can address her directly if you like. Ash is here as well,” smiled Em.

“Hello, sir. It's very nice to make your acquaintance. I wish it were under better circumstances.” Ash actually had a formal British accent.

“Why the accents, Em?” Barcus asked.

“It is known as Practical Avatar Differentiation. When running in multi-mode, it's best to be able to differentiate with a syllable or two. Just saves time,” Em said.

“Okay, got it.” Barcus was not going to worry about it now. He'd get used to it.

“Em, where are Po and Olias? Do you know?” Barcus asked.

“Yes. Olias is in the blacksmith loft. Po sleeps on a cot in the kitchen at the inn with the other girls. They tend the cook fires. I have had BUGs there with them continuously,” Em replied.

Anger was building now in Barcus. He wanted to be there.

He motioned to shift to fixed HUD mode. The windows and tactical in his vision would become like high-definition screens that hung in the room in fixed positions, like large paintings, instead of being fixed in his view, moving as his eyes moved. It allowed him to pace and move among them. It also allowed him to have more windows open without being too distracting. It allowed Em to interact better as well.

“Par, what is your ETA to Greenwarren?” Barcus asked.

“At present speed, we should arrive just before dawn,” Par replied.

“Barcus, they are moving.” Em gestured at the surveillance window following the soldiers.

“They found the remains. They are splitting up. They are following the road toward Greenwarren. One small group is searching. In the opposite direction. Two sets of scouting parties are spreading out.”

“Barcus, at this speed, I am leaving a trail a five-year-old could follow,” Par said.

Barcus went to the tactical map and said, “Par what is your planned route?” It came up on the display instantly. “When you get to this river, travel in it for six kilometers. When you get within one click of the village, let's reassess. Maybe you should try to minimize your tracks in that last kilometer.”

“Yes, sir,” Par answered.

“How much will that impact your ETA?” Barcus asked Par.

“I estimate it will add nine to twenty minutes,” Par replied.

“Did you move from Foxden to the warehouse in stealth mode?”

“Yes, sir. Stealth is the default unless otherwise ordered,” Par replied.

“Okay. Good,” Barcus affirmed.

“Par, give Barcus a weapons and critical systems status.” Em was standing there with her arms crossed, waiting for Par to answer a question he should have asked himself.

Par gave the full status. It took a full twenty minutes. Barcus was calmer by the time she was finished.

“Em, is there any way the BUGs could warn them?” Barcus asked.

“I'm sorry, no,” Em replied.

“Em, what is going on here?” He gestured to a new window labeled ‘comm traffic activity.’

“That's a new encrypted transmission. It looks like a persistent link via SAT. Look, here is another,” Em replied.

The tactical zoomed over the area where the troops were. The BUGs flew down closer to the transmission source. In one display, a man had a book open that showed a detailed map of the region - a dynamic map.

“He is holding an old style Plate interface.” Em observed.

The other one was talking to someone via the Plate. The BUG was too far away to hear.

“Dammit, we need to decrypt that traffic. You have to warn them when you get there. Ash, get the message to Olias or Po. They will believe you,” Barcus said.

He got dressed in silence and then returned and put the kettle on the fire to make tea.

“Sir?” It was Ash. “Would you mind awfully much if we killed them all?”

Barcus looked at Em. Her eyebrows were up and her hand was covering her mouth as if she had been surprised and didn't want to laugh.

“Please do... All of them.”

In Greenwarren, it began to snow.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Late to Greenwarren

“The AI functioned for a few weeks within expected parameters. Barcus was safe. Then, for some reason, the new code paths were invoked. Code where safety protocols had all been disabled. ”

--Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Emergency Module Digital Forensics Report. Independent Tech Analysis Team.

<<<>>>

For the first two hours, Barcus discussed options with Par and Ash to ensure none of the soldiers would escape them. They had very detailed maps of the Greenwarren but not the surrounding area. There were only 4 bugs still in that town, two that followed Olias and two that followed Po.

When Par got there, she would release another swarm of BUGs. None of the soldiers would escape them, the bastards. The snow was getting heavier. Snow or rain could be slightly problematic for the BUGs.

“Barcus. Look here.” Em was focused on a video window showing the riders from above as they trotted, four abreast, down the road. In the center of the column, a rider was looking at a Plate. Because of the snow, the BUG had to fly very close and had now landed on the man’s collar. Barcus could now hear the conversation and see the Plate’s video.

“I will be packed within the hour. I want to be gone before you arrive, Esau,” the speaker intoned.

“Don't want them to know that it was you that betrayed them?” Esau was laughing. “Very well. We will take our time. Perhaps four hours. We will even pause for a meal first to give you plenty of time, Keeper Malcom.” He closed his book cover on his Plate and placed it back in its saddle pouch. He then left formation and began moving to the column’s head.

“Em, what is a Keeper?” Barcus asked.

“They are the top layer of the caste system here. I believe they are supposed to be like priests,” Em replied.

“My god. It's the town’s own Keeper!” Barcus was incredulous. “That fucker is mine,” he said.

“Get in line,” Ash growled.

Reaching the front, Esau said to a grim man who seemed to be the leader, “I want to be there within the hour. Can you do it?”

The grim man gave a wide smile that was all teeth and no mirth. He then yelled something that Barcus could not understand.

“What! Em at that pace, they will beat us there.” Barcus scanned for the ETA countdown display which read 1:14:22 and was counting down.

“It's the snow and the terrain, sir. I will try to go faster,” Par said.

“Dammit. There has to be a way we can warn them!” He was watching Po sleeping.

“Barcus, I can't warn them. But I think I can wake them,” Em said.

“What good would that do?” Barcus was getting frantic.

Barcus kept pacing.

“Olias has become paranoid after the last village fell. He maintains two escape caches with supplies in different locations.” Two new points were highlighted on the map; a still frame opened showing the vista near the primary cache. It overlooked the town.

Em continued, “He has shown these caches to Po, and she has even updated their contents on a few occasions. They have a plan to meet there if anything unusual happens between midnight and dawn because that was when they struck last time.”

“So,” she repeated, “I think we can wake them. But it will cost a BUG.”

“What good will that do?” Barcus asked, frustrated.

“If they are awake, they may hear something...unusual,” Em said.

“Like what? Pounding hoof beats? By then it's too late!” Barcus shouted.

He glanced at the window with the soldiers. They were galloping full speed. It was like the horses had been longing for a run after being penned up in the shuttle for who knows how long.

“There is a ridge here that I need to move along,” Par said as it was highlighted on the map again. More stills opened showing the view. Olias had visited there a few times - a log of the dates and times scrolled there.

“The town is six kilometers away from this point, but I think with the long range 10mm, I can make some disturbances.” Par sounded angry. The still image zoomed into the bell tower of the Keeper’s temple.

“Timing is going to cut this close, sir,” Ash added, “When Pardosa stops here, I will disembark. I can descend the ridge here at speed.”

“Em, wake them up,” came his determined statement.

He was watching Po's window as the BUG descended toward her eye. It landed on her eyelash and was crawling to her eye. It pressed into the slight gap and under her eyelid.

“Don't hurt her, Em,” he implored.

The second BUG opened in another window. Po’s eye was twitching, and she began to stir.

Olias was sleeping with his face buried in a pillow. His BUG descended and flew directly into his ear. The image became confused while his second assigned BUG had yet to arrive. Barcus changed his focus back to Po's screen.

“Po, wake up,” he whispered.

As if she had heard him, she sat up and rubbed her eye. She threw the blanket back, and he was glad that she was fully dressed, boots and all.

Olias's second BUG arrived then, and he was also sitting up.

“Stop moving the BUGs, Em,” Barcus asked.

Olias raised the wick on an oil lamp, stood up and went to the only window of the loft. He drew the curtain aside and looked out into the snow covered the town. He could see the back of the inn across the town’s rooftops.

Just then, he saw the kitchen window curtain draw aside. Someone was there. It was Po.

That was when Par fired the long range gun.

The tower bell rang once, but it was loud. A few seconds later, the sound of the shot was like distant thunder rolling over the town.

Olias was down the ladder in an instant. Without breaking stride, he grabbed his cloak from the peg and was out the door.

The first stall held one of the horses he had brought from Whitlock.

“Every night before he goes to bed he saddles it. Every morning when he wakes up, he takes it off so the blacksmith won't see,” Em said.

He threw off the blanket and trotted the horse out of the stables, mounting quickly.

Barcus had his heart in his throat.

He looked at the display. The soldiers would be there in seven minutes, Par in twelve minutes.

They would be too late.

Po was putting on a heavier tunic and as an afterthought added another man-sized tabard and a heavy belt. When she opened the door, Olias was there. Without a word, she climbed up behind him and held on as he moved out of the inn’s yard.

“Hurry,” Barcus said.

When Olias got out to the road, he turned the horse and it began to run.

He was galloping directly toward the troops that were coming to the town at speed!

“No!” Barcus screamed at the display. He looked at Em. Her image seemed to be studying the same screens as him. Panic and frustration were draining the blood from his face.

As he looked back at the tactical display, he could see they had left the road. They were heading up a switchback that would lead to their cache of equipment. They had three BUGs with them. The one from Olias's ear had found its way out intact. They looked like children on that horse. Olias looked scared, and Po looked blank, stoic. The third BUG was watching the rear view. The snow was accumulating fast on the still night. It was muffling the sound of their passing but left a clear trail of it.

Behind them in the distance, they could hear the pounding of the soldiers’ hooves as they passed the turnoff. It sounded like more rolling thunder.

By the time they reached the overlook, the massacre had begun. They knew people were being slaughtered in their beds.

“I told them to set a watch. I told them. I said they were coming.” Olias was crying as they stood on the overlook. Subtitles translated his words. “All the weapons were hidden in the loft of the blacksmith’s barn.” Olias opened his cloak and through gritted teeth said, “Except this one.” He was wearing a sword.

Olias began uncovering the cache. First, he brought out two saddle bags and secured them to the horse, ignoring the quiet echoes of screams. Then he added two packs and two bamboo-like tubes.

“Those are longbows.” Em injected.

The screams had stopped. Many of the soldiers were dragging people into the street and asking questions and then still cutting them down. Soon even that stopped, along with the snow.

Suddenly, Olias heard a distant pounding. A shape could be seen moving through the forest below, now and again. It was knocking the snow from the trees as it passed at an impossible speed toward Greenwarren.

That is when they heard the voice. It was in a voice, louder than reality allowed, echoing.

“Olias, Po, run!”

Just then the faceless black demon tore into the soldiers like an avalanche. Olias didn't wait to see the outcome. He mounted the horse and held his arm down for Po, but she was staring at the town. Olias looked again and a giant spider was there, harvesting their heads. These men were not like the others. These were trained soldiers who stood their ground. They died all the faster.

“Run!” echoed again, breaking the spell.

Po climbed into the saddle, and they moved up the trail to the ridge. They had to be careful because dawn was still almost an hour away, and the snow covered the trail.

By the time they reached the far end of the valley’s bowl where they could see the town, there was enough light, but too much snow to see from that distance. They found strange tracks here. The ground was savagely overturned in spots a foot or two across. It was an easy trail to follow.

They rode all day, stopping only once to eat and rest the horse. Olias had not planned for snow. He had figured that the horse could browse along the way. The horse didn't complain, though. He just ate the snow and an occasional leaf in passing. It was well trained.

Po spoke for the first time in hours as Olias was fishing another tunic out of his pack to put on. “Where are we going?”

“We're going to find that Keeper,” Olias replied

“Why did you come? How did you know to come? You saved me,” she gushed.

“He did it,” he said solemnly. “Keeper Barcus saved us. Again. I don't know how.”

“How will you find him?” Po said.

“I don't need to. He will find us. I believe in him,” Olias replied in common speech.

They didn't know he was already with them.

***

They kept moving west toward Barcus. But that was a small gift. Barcus watched unable to act as the village died. These men were professional soldiers. They were not like the raiders of the last village. They were quiet, they had executed the people on sight where they stood or where they slept in their beds. The soldiers had not screamed like banshees nor raped the women before murdering them. They did not loot the place or savagely destroy everything.

When Ash and Par attacked, they stood their ground and organized their attacks. The swarm of BUGs followed them as they killed and then died. After the main battle was over, Ash and Par had to mop up.

Some villagers had tried to run into the forests out the back gates into the snow. They were quickly ridden down and slaughtered by these grim men.

Vengeance fueled his anger as he directed the soldiers’ demises.

Seven got away because those seven never joined the killing party. They had gone south after getting off the shuttle, so Par and Ash left them.

Olias had lost the trail hours ago. He had a great sense of direction, so he plodded on into the blizzard.

Barcus did not want not lose Olias and Po after all this. With the last of the soldiers dispatched, Ash began to follow after Po and Olias. It would take hours to catch up, and he was a mess covered with bloody snow and gore, sure to frighten them on sight.

A bit before dusk, Olias had found a large shelter pine. The snow never made it to the ground here in the dome created beneath the wide boughs. Even the horse fit inside if she kept her head down. Shelter pines were often used by trackers. This one was no different.

Olias made a fire in a circle of stones covered in pine needles they had found there so they could stay warm while they rested.

Po was busy getting a camp kettle ready when the sound of the voice made both their heads snap up. A Keeper was standing in the makeshift entrance.

“That was a merry chase.” He had a crossbow leveled on them. “How did you know they were coming? It was brilliant to ride toward them. Their own horses would cover your tracks.” It was Malcom, the Keeper of Greenwarren.

“You thought you were so clever. I knew you had gear stored at the overlook. I followed you once because I never trusted you. No one is supposed to survive those raids. So, when I heard that thing call your name, I knew where to look.”

Then, silently, a black arm reached in and a gory, clawed hand grabbed him by the head and said in a voice straight from hell, “Drop the crossbow.”

He had to drop it when Ash lifted him off the ground. His hands clung to the cruel fingers, taking the weight off his neck.