Shattered Destiny (38 page)

“There they are!” Keera pointed to the sky.

The sleek travel pod zipped into view over the top of the scouting droid. It came to rest just a few hundred yards from where the group was huddled together, trying to keep their footing.

The hatch opened, and the silver ramp descended. The Volgon and Astran Chosen ran forward to help unload the weapons.

“Leave the plasma rifles! Get the computer, there!” Feeror shouted, pointing to the computer for the largest sound weapon.

Keera, irritated at being yelled at, dropped the dozen plasma rifles she had been carrying with the power. Still using the magic, she hurled the computer out the door of the travel pod. She set the computer down gently, despite the ground's violent shaking. Feeror hurriedly set up the sound weapon and connected it to the computer. He had trouble keeping his footing, which in turn made it difficult to program the computer.

“Blast this foul machine!” the big man cursed. The computer had not saved the readout from the last encounter with the Mekans back on Volgon. He would have to start from scratch.

“They're coming!” Gwen shouted, pointing in the direction of the large Mekan. Two scouting droids made their way down the ramp and headed toward the group.

“Hurry, man!” Sloan urged. The two were ahead of the schedule he had been sure they would follow. In a few short minutes, they would be rolling right over the group huddled around the computer.

Feeror ignored the commotion and focused on trying to remember what the readout had looked like from before. He hit a few buttons, then fired up the weapon.

The machines shuddered and paused but resumed their forward roll after only being dazed for a few short minutes.

“I need more time. You will have to try to slow them down.”

Jon drew on his own power and focused it on the Kromin ship. Plasma rifles came flying out the still-open hatchway. Voilor and Moylir deftly plucked them from the air. They quickly demonstrated how to power the rifles on and where the trigger was located.

“Just point and shoot,” Voilor said with a grin.

“Go for the moving track. If we can dislodge it or break it apart,
the machine won't be able to move,” Moylir said, sharing a grin with her comrade. The threat of battle made her blood sing in her ears.

The Chosen and the remaining two Guardians opened fire on the two scouting droids coming their way. The rifles spit red-orange bolts of light at the advancing Mekans.

Keera picked herself up off the ground, having been thrown when the rifle recoiled. “You could have warned us about that!” the redhead yelled to the two Volgons. She looked and saw Gwen and Kaelin also flat on their backs.

“You need to brace yourselves, ladies. Like so.” Brad held the plasma rifle against his right shoulder, left leg in front. He shot, and his body barely moved when the weapon fired.

Keera rolled her eyes. “Again, would have been nice to know this
before
we were tossed around like ragdolls!” She helped the other two girls up. Both were groaning and rubbing their shoulders.

The next round of fire broke the tread of the scouting droid in the lead, stopping it dead in its tracks. The second Mekan rolled toward its fallen comrade.

“What is it doing?” Brad asked.

Pieces of metal slid away on its bulky sides, and a pair of silvery arms extended slowly toward the fallen Mekan. The arms ended in two claw-like pinchers that grabbed the pieces of broken tread and pulled them together. A third door opened, and another arm snaked out. This one held some sort of tool or device. When it got close to the tread, it sent out a shot of bluish light.

“I think it's repairing the damage,” Sloan said.

The others groaned audibly when they noticed the tread melting back together when the blue light hit it.

“Go for the arms!” Voilor shouted.

The group fired at the arms of the Mekan. Several shots took off the ends of all three appendages. Smoke rose from the injured machine.

The fourth scouting droid joined its injured comrades. Panels opened in its metal skin, and arms unfolded and snaked toward the first droid with the broken tread.

Voilor opened fire and destroyed both of the Mekan's robotic arms.

Jon fired at the Mekan, frustration building as the machine just kept coming. “These things are useless!”

“What do you suggest? Our magic isn't strong enough,” Keera said.

“Maybe yours isn't.” Jon began to draw on the life force he felt from the scrub brush growing out of the desert sand.

“What are you doing?” Keera asked.

Saemus, Gwen, and Kaelin rushed to stand behind Keera.

“I'm done listening to the lot of you. First you demand that I leave the magic alone, then you beg me to use it when it suits you.” He glared at Kaelin. “I don't need you telling me what to do.” Jon felt somewhat vindicated when he saw Saemus blush and stare at the ground.

“What you do puts us all at risk,” Keera said.

“More than the threat they pose?” Jon pointed to the machines crawling toward them.

When no one said anything else, Jon sent the forbidden magic into the nearest machine and shouted in triumph as fire enveloped the front of it. His elation was short-lived. The fire did little damage to the thick metal skin.

Jon threw his hand in front, sending a wave through the ground, aimed directly at the lead Mekan. The machine fell to the side when the wave hit, its legs waving helplessly. One of its comrades helped it get back on its feet and the Mekans kept coming.

“You got that thing figured out yet?” Sloan growled at Feeror, who was checking and rechecking the readouts from the computer.

In response, the big man turned on the weapon. The Mekans shuddered violently but started moving about again only moments after the weapon stopped firing.

“Hurry up! The big one is coming this way!” Gerok's face was white with terror.

The biggest Mekan, many miles to the east, picked up its monstrous legs. The sound carried and penetrated the magic spell the Astrans had put around their ears. The Chosen and the two Guardians put their hands over their ears, crying out in pain. The Astran Chosen strengthened the barrier, only barely able to hear one another when they shouted.

One of the legs of the colossal giant came down. Seconds later, the shockwave reached the group and knocked nearly all of them off their feet. Feeror grabbed frantically at the computer as it began to tip over. He studied the readouts intently, hoping to find the peak or valley that would indicate how to next adjust the computer. The paper shook in his hands.

The second of the giant Mekan's four legs hit the ground, bringing it shockingly closer to the group.

“How can it move so fast?” Keera asked, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“It's not moving fast. One step is eating a lot of distance.” Sloan pointed out.

Keera waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever the reason, we need to get that blasted weapon working before it gets here and crushes us to a pulp!”

“I heartily agree with you.”

The group fired at the lead Mekan, but the plasma rifle blasts merely blackened the machine's thick metal skin. It took another gargantuan step, and it was all Feeror and the Kromins could do to keep the sound weapon and computer upright.

One of the legs holding up the sound weapon had fallen into a deep rut that had formed when the Mekan had taken its last step. Feeror directed the Kromins to move the weapon a little to the left.

He made a few more adjustments to the computer, certain that he had the computer set correctly. He hit the firing button.

The four small scouting droids stiffened immediately and fell to the side, sending up giant plumes of dust when they landed.

The large Mekan had also stiffened but had not fallen over.

“What is happening? Why isn't it falling?” Keera yelled frantically.

“I don't know.” Feeror shouted, grabbing the readouts and scanning them quickly. On the surface, the one from the computer and the one from the Mekan looked identical.
I missed something.

The Mekan shuddered once and continued its forward movement toward the other four. As the leg came down, a terrible groaning and tearing sound echoed across the Blasted Lands.

Suddenly, the ground opened up near where the group was
huddled together. Feeror ordered the Kromins to stay where they were and keep a grip on the sound weapon. He wanted to rush to the aid of those near the fissure, but he knew that if he didn't find the minute differences in the readouts, they would all die. Robert whirled at a shriek of terror behind him. Shel Nal’ Vi's arms circled wildly as he tried to keep his balance at the edge of the giant fissure that opened up beneath his feet.

“Hang on!” Robert ran toward the falling man. He grunted as he hit the ground, arms reaching for the man who was hanging onto the lip of the crevase by the tips of his fingers. “I've got you! Just hang on!” He tried to haul the man out of the gaping hole in the ground but he lacked the strength. Robert looked to the left and right. Everything happened in slow motion. He felt the Nomad's grip slipping just as one of the Kromins heard his cry in its mind and slowly turned to find the source of the communication. Feeror was within arm's reach, but he might as well have been a mile away. The big man had to focus on the sound weapon.
God, please help me!

He looked down and found his gaze held by the Nomad. Robert was mesmerized by the terror he found there.

“Please, don't let me fall! Help me!” The man's fingers gripped Robert's as hard as they could.

And yet they slipped inch by agonizing inch.

“Help me!” Robert screamed, refusing to look away from the man. He gritted his teeth against the spasm of pain that bolted down his arms from his shoulders.

The Nomad slipped more, and his movement became a frantic attempt to reach the edge of the chasm. He twisted and kicked, sobs breaking forth as he slipped another inch. The ground continued to shake, forcing their grip to become even more tenuous.

--Is there something we can do?

“Get me one of the Astrans! I can't hold him!” Robert barely got the words past his clenched teeth.

His fingers were beginning to go numb. He tried to raise his arms to bring the Nomad closer to the edge so that he could grab on, but he felt something tearing in his shoulders.

“No!” Robert cried out.

Shel Nal’ Vi's right hand slipped free. He tried to reach up to
grab Robert's hand again, but each movement caused his left hand to lose its grip a little more.

“Stop moving!” Robert begged the man. He wondered absently if his shoulders were being forced from their sockets. He focused his mind on keeping his grip, but he could still feel the man slipping.

Suddenly, a shifting in the ground caused the ledge to begin sinking. Robert's breath caught when he felt his body slipping slowly into the chasm. A primal part of his mind told him to let the Nomad fall and to save his own skin. And yet the Protector in him couldn't just let the man fall.

The Nomad made the decision for him.

Shel Nal’ Vi closed his eyes and used his free hand to push Robert's fingers off.
No! Help will be here soon!
Robert tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. The Nomad removed the last of Robert's fingers and plunged into the blackness without a sound.

Robert felt himself hauled backward as if by a giant. He rolled to his back, his upper body muscles twitching and trembling at the sudden loss of weight. Saemus’ face appeared above his own, asking what had happened and if he was all right.

“Why didn't you come sooner? You could have saved him!” Anger filled Robert. He rolled to his knees and stared at the fissure. He swore he could still feel the man hanging from his arm, and he could hear a ghostly voice begging him not to let go.

*   *   *

Feeror could hear the screams and shouting of his comrades but forced his mind to the task. He wanted to turn and see if Gwen was safe, and his mind gibbered that she was all right, that she was somehow out of harm's way.

There!

There was a small difference in the readouts between the large Mekan and the four smaller droids. Feeror had wrongly assumed that all of the Mekans would have the same pattern. He quickly made the correct changes to the frequency of the sound and punched
the activation button.

The Mekan stopped moving. Its legs quivered.

The group stood silently, smoke rising from their plasma rifles, hearts pounding. The Astrans slowly lowered the sound barrier. The silence was deafening.

A scrambling noise made them turn around. The two camels were running across the hard-packed ground, heading for the mountains.

Feeror smiled in relief when he saw Gwen standing next to Keera. She was bruised and dirty but still alive. He took a quick survey and was felt a guilty relief in the fact that the only one missing was the Nomad. All the Chosen and the two Guardians were safe.

“Look!” Gwen shouted.

The large Mekan slowly fell to the side. Its sheer size made it look as though it were falling in slow motion. Instinctively, Jon hurriedly erected a barrier of air in a wide arc in front of the group.

“Jon, what are you doing -” Saemus never had a chance to finish.

As the Mekan hit the ground, it sent up huge gouts of dirt and rocks that obscured it from view. The shrieking, grinding sound of metal and the thunderous roar of the machine hitting the earth reached their ears. The ground shook so forcefully the group was once again thrown off their feet.

They could see the enormous shock wave coming for them. All but Jon backed away, looking for any shelter in the empty vastness of the desert. Robert stood quickly, the Nomad momentarily forgotten as this new danger approached.

The rocks and dirt hit the barrier Jon had erected and shot upward but did not pass any further.

Amidst the sound of the dust settling, the enormity of what just occurred hit the Chosen. They let out a bestial roar of victory. Those that still had weapons held them aloft as they cried out. They whooped and shouted, taking turns wheeling each other around in an uncoordinated dance around the sound weapon.