The Dragon Circle (16 page)

“What about the lander?” she gasped, trying to keep up with him.

“We'll worry about that later.”

They maintained silence on the trek down into the heart of the mountain. Konner could tell that Dalleena was fairly bursting with questions. Still, she saved them. She even took his lead in sipping from the sulfurous stream, rolling the precious moisture around in her mouth before swallowing. The grimace on her face gave him a brief chuckle.

“You like this stuff no better than I,” she retorted, then took a second, longer drink. This time she raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. A third mouthful and she quirked her mouth up on one side. A delightful dimple made the expression into a silent exclamation point. “I could get used to this.”

“You may have to. The lava pit is over here.” With careful, almost reverential steps he wound his way around the obstacles in the big cavern, through several smaller ones, each housing a generator or transformer, into the room where Big Bertha, the monster steam generator, dwelled.

Thankfully the dragongate remained silent, between cycles. He did not know if he would be able to think straight with the hum in the back of his head.

Dalleena stopped short at sight of the machine that filled nearly an acre of cavern. Her questing hand came up. She shook her head and thrust the hand forward with determination.

“Big Bertha is not lost,” Konner chuckled.

“Perhaps not. But I think I may be.” Tentatively, she used her questing hand to touch the metal surface of the generator. The first contact led to a more thorough tactile exploration.

“Come, we still have a chore to perform.” Konner stepped into a side tunnel well away from the dragongate. No sense in taking a chance on the wormhole opening and taking the beacon to yet another destination. Though, if he could send it to the south pole, it might divert the IMPs long enough to finish repairs on the
Sirius
so that the O'Hara brothers could get the hell out of Dodge.

But that would not protect Dalleena and her people from the ravages of civilization that must follow on the heels of the IMP invasion.

He balanced on the edge of the lava pit.

The beacon weighed heavily in his hands. A stream of molten rock shot upward. Heat blasted him. Sweat broke out on his brow and back.

He had to destroy it. He and his brothers would deal with the IMPs somehow. He could not take a chance on another ship following the beacon here.

Without further thought, he hurled the beacon far out over the pit. A pitiful distance compared to the wide stretch of the opening. He watched it arc gracefully, a diminishing speck that dropped and dropped, a thousand feet or more into the roiling mass of the pit.

“Good-bye, Melinda. So much for your treachery,” he sighed. He prayed that Sam Eyeam had taken the second beacon out of the system.

But it was already too late. The IMPs had found the O'Hara brothers and a pristine planet ready for exploitation.

The dragongate hummed loudly. Dalleena jerked her attention away from the tiny burst of flame that was the beacon. She cocked her head, listening acutely. Her right hand came up. Konner steadied her balance.

The gate silenced abruptly. Too quickly. Normally, it took a full minute to open completely and then another to close. This opening had lasted only a few heartbeats. Or had he been distracted with thoughts of the beacon and not heard the beginning of the cycle?

Too soon the thing began to hum again. He headed back to Big Bertha's cavern. Before he could gain a sighting on the dragongate tunnel, the thing reached a climactic pitch and grew silent.

“What the . . . ?” Konner nearly ran to the edge of the portal, Dalleena close upon his heels.

All he saw was the roiling mass of molten lava shooting flaming rock high enough to force him back from the lip as he flung his arm over his eyes to protect them.

The enemy is come. They cannot be allowed to destroy us or our home. We are responsible for the safety of this world. We will guard it at whatever cost. Even the death of the Stargods
.

K
ONNER STOOD in the dragongate tunnel for many long moments. He wished for a wrist chrono to time the portal. He'd left his on
Sirius
. What need of digital time in a society that measured its passage in seasons and generations.

He sighed heavily. What two places had it opened to in rapid succession before he watched it so diligently?

As best he could guess, the portal had not opened in half an hour. He could not wait any longer hoping that in the next few heartbeats he would see the green clearing across the river from his village.

In the last battle with Hanassa, he had destroyed the only remote that controlled the gate. The dragongate reverted to its own unmappable schedule.

“Dalleena, we'll have to take our chances with the desert.”

“Shall we fill the waterskins at this creek?” She looked reluctantly at Big Bertha. He could not read her thoughts or emotions.

“There is a plateau nearby where the water is sweeter. We can harvest a few fresh greens there to supplement our rations.” Time was he'd have been perfectly happy with reconstituted vegetable protein. Now he knew the true joy of flavor and texture, spices that burst upon the tongue, crisp vegetables, and juicy fruits. He had learned to appreciate sharing his meals. True food nurtured the palate and the soul as well as the body. After five months of eating food cooked over an open fire, he'd never settle for ship's rations in their Insta-hot® packets again. No wonder fresh food was the most valuable commodity in the Galactic Terran Empire.

On the trek back to the surface, Konner paused in the throne room. He scanned with his senses as well as his portable instruments for signs of recent habitation. The throne carved of silver bloodwood remained where he'd last seen it. The dust around the throne and the half finished altar remained free of new scuff marks since he and his brothers had been here . . . was it only yesterday?

The remnants of an old fire in one of the outer caverns looked cold and undisturbed. Whatever body Hanassa might inhabit, he had not come back since stealing the beacon and selling it to Sam Eyeam.

“Konner, wait,” Dalleena whispered. She clutched at his sleeve.

Instantly, he froze in place. “What?” he mouthed. She cocked her head toward the narrow opening with harsh sunlight streaming through it.

Then he heard what she had sensed. Voices. Footsteps. The hatch of a shuttle opening. The IMPs had penetrated
Rover
.

“Hide!” Konner shoved her behind him. Together they crouched behind an outcropping. He wrapped his arms around her, making them one object. With luck, and if God and all the saints looked upon them with favor, the desert heat concentrated into the bowl of the crater and the screwed magnetics would scramble their sensors.

“Lieutenant, I'm picking up a reading,” an anonymous female voice announced in excited tones. No doubt she already had designs on the reward for the capture of any O'Hara. Doubled by Melinda if Konner were the one captured.

What could he do?

“We have to run back to the pit,” Konner whispered to Dalleena. “The heat will confuse their instruments, and maybe the dragongate will open for us.”

She nodded mutely.

With one ear tuned to the proceedings outside, he whispered, “Ready, set, go.”

They pelted back the way they had come as fast as they could.

“Two of 'em. Running,” the same female voice cried.

Dozens of feet pounded the baked dirt. Then came the distinctive thud and “Oof,” of someone measuring their length against the ground, or one of the columns.

“Lights! Someone get some lights,” an authoritative male voice called.

Konner ducked into the throne room. He risked his own light to orient his sense of direction to the exit. Together, he and Dalleena skidded around the corner and into the long tunnel that led downward. Ever downward.

Sweat dripped into his eyes and drenched his shirt. His mouth dried and his heart pounded too fast. The full length of his thighs ached and the soles of his feet burned.

At the creek, both he and Dalleena paused long enough to scoop up a few mouthfuls of water. If they were hurting from the mad dash through rough terrain with the intense heat, the IMPs must be in a sorry state. They had a few moments to breathe. And think.

“How do we get out of this?” he asked the air, not expecting an answer.

The dragongate hummed in the back of his mind.

Footsteps pounded on the long downgrade of the tunnel.

“Come.” He grabbed Dalleena's hand and dragged her back through the maze of caverns.

Shouts sounded behind them as the IMPs emerged into the large room near the creek.

“Ewww! It smells like something died and rotted,” a nasal tenor voice protested. It had the singsong pattern of one of the Hindu cultures.

“Sensor's scrambled,” a female voice reported. Cool and precise. “Magnetics disrupted. This chamber is hotter than body heat. Can't get a definitive read.”

More mumbles and grunts.

“Footprints, this way,” yet a third voice cried excitedly.

The dragongate hummed louder.

“St. Bridget and all the angels, please let it be the portal I need,” Konner prayed as he entered the short tunnel. He kept a wary eye on any signs of activity behind him.

Close. They came ever closer.

He couldn't let them find out about the wormhole.

The harsh yellow-and-orange glow from the lava below cooled to a soothing green. Bright sunshine on a circular clearing, ringed by Tambootie trees.

Konner grabbed Dalleena's face with both hands. Without thinking, he kissed her hard. He didn't want to let her go.

“That place is across the river from the village. Go!” Konner pushed her. “I'll find you. No matter what, I'll find you.”

Dalleena stumbled over the ledge of the pit and into . . . the greens and browns swirled and shifted back to the normal colors of a volcano thinking about exploding. The insistent hum in the back of his mind died.

He dove back out the tunnel, running fast. He shoved uniformed men and women aside, heedless of where they landed. All he wanted was up and out of this cave system; away from the dragongate.

“I must advise you that resisting arrest will not endear you to the judge.” That had to be one of the lawyers. A judicial cruiser had followed them—a ship full of judges, lawyers, investigators, and police enforcement. That meant a minimum ship's personnel of three hundred.

Shite.
They'd carry word of this planet back to civilization. The stories of its fertility would exaggerate into legend. Civilization would ruin and pollute the land as it had every planet the GTE had settled.

“Are we certain this man is our quarry?” asked the singsong voice. “Are we certain he understands our language?”

“I'll lead you all a merry chase right back to the beginning,” Konner muttered to himself as he scooped up one more handful of water and braced himself for the uphill trek.

This time he set a moderate pace, needing the IMPs to follow him. Anything to keep them away from the dragongate. Halfway to the throne room he had to slow even more, dragging in deep gulps of air. His hands shook when he dashed sweat out of his eyes. The back of his throat tasted sour and gritty. He couldn't keep going.

He had no choice.

From the sounds behind him, the IMPs fared no better. Konner at least had spent the past five months working hard outdoors, plowing, planting, building a smithy and forging parts for
Sirius
as well as tools for the locals. Single-handedly he had dragged the Coros up from dependence upon bronze to a full embrace of iron. And in the course of that achievement, he had built muscle and stamina. The IMPs had been in space for months with no physical activity outside a gym in the heaviest gravity portion of their ship.

If he stayed this far ahead of the main party, he just might be able to gain access to
Rover
and take off.

They'd leave a few guards at his shuttle.

They'd shoot first and ask questions later.

He had to come up with a better plan.

Hard to think in this heat; working this hard. If only he had a drink of cool water. A swallow would help. He trudged on.