The Pilgrims of Rayne (46 page)

The first line of dados hit the beach. They didn't jump off their skimmers and dive into the sand to protect themselves.
Just the opposite. They all looked to one another as if making sure they had arrived safely, then casually got off their skimmers and began to walk toward the village. There was no tension. No fear. No battle readiness whatsoever. The dados with guns didn't even take aim. They held them casually, pointing at the sky.

It was perfect.

“Now,” I growled, hoping somebody would be bold and fire the first arrow.

Nobody did. More dados landed on the beach and followed the others toward Rayne.

“Why aren't they shooting?” Genj cried. “Something is wrong.”

“Either that,” I said, “or those guys have more guts than we gave them credit for.”

The dados kept coming. More and more landed and amassed on the beach. Soon there would be multiple hundreds, and it would be too late for the arrows to have any effect. Just as I was beginning to think our plan had failed…

The first dado exploded. I mean, exploded. It happened so suddenly, we all jumped in surprise. The arrow was totally silent. The first sign that anything had happened was that a dado in the middle of the first line found himself in pieces all over the beach. The others stopped and looked around in confusion. Or at least in as much confusion as a robot can show. They had no idea what happened. Seconds later a dozen more dados exploded in white hot flashes, raining parts onto the sand.

Alder said, “They do not understand what is happening.” I heard excitement in his voice. I felt it myself. Was it possible? Did we stand a chance?

The archers fired steadily. The explosions were deafening.
One after the other, dados were blasted to bits. Smoke filled the beach. I worried that it would hurt the aim of the archers, but it didn't matter. There were so many dados, even if an arrow missed one, and then another, it would eventually hit something.

Finally the dados took cover. They dove to the ground and crawled forward in the sand. It didn't matter. That didn't stop the archers. They continued to fire, blasting them into shrapnel. Flying bits of burning dado did as much damage to the other dados as the arrows themselves. More dados arrived on the beach, stepping into the metal grinder. They fell by the dozens. Dados from the rear had to step over their fallen buddies to move forward, only to be blasted into oblivion themselves. The whole scene took on a surreal quality, like time was slowing down. I'd never seen anything like it before and hoped I never would again.

Things were going very well…until the dados began fighting back.

The dados with weapons stopped advancing. They took cover behind the wreckage of the first to fall, and started firing. I heard the familiar
fum, fum, fum
of their guns. These were definitely weapons from Quillan. On Quillan these weapons fired a burst of energy that incapacitated whoever got shot. Here on Ibara it looked like the weapons packed more punch. Trees exploded. Sand blew into the air.

Archers died.

I saw three different archers fall. I only knew they were dead because the runners who went to examine them would take their bows and arrows. That was their mission. Take the weapons from those who could no longer use them. The battle had become all too real.

The explosions slowed, because the archers were being
more cautious. Being shot at will do that. Still, the archers kept taking out dados. The beach was chaos, but their line was holding. The dados who were still on the water were having trouble getting to shore. There were too many skimmers in their way. And dado parts. It looked like a macabre junkyard. But they kept coming. And coming. The bay was filled with skimmers. Many more waited out in the ocean for their turn to enter. The dados weren't done. Not even close. They crawled, inch by inch up the beach, moving closer to the first line of archers.

My biggest fear was that we would run out of arrows.

“We're going to have to pull back the first line,” Alder declared.

“Do it now,” I said. “They've got to be running low on arrows. Get them back.”

We sent off another runner to deliver that message. The second line hadn't fired a single arrow. Moving the first line back would mean an infusion of fresh ammo, and archers. It took several minutes for the runner to reach the forward line. He gave the message to the archer directly in the center, who signaled those to his side. Word passed quickly and the archers started moving back.

It was a bad move. As soon as they started to move, so did the dados. It was as if they knew they had a window, and they took it. They unleashed a barrage of fire at the archers, hitting several. A few archers made it back to the second line, but the dados kept coming. They fired mercilessly. Huts were blasted and set on fire. Trees toppled. The second line of archers could barely get off any arrows. By the time they were able to start firing, dozens of archers lay dead or wounded, and the leading edge of the village was on fire.

The tone of the battle had changed. The archers were now playing defense.

“It is a nightmare,” Genj muttered.

Alder grabbed the last runner and screamed, “Get them behind the third line.”

The runner took off instantly.

“We need the protection of the tunnel,” Alder declared. “The battle will be won or lost by the third line.”

Smoke rose over the village. Fires burned. Bodies were everywhere. I felt as if I were looking at the future of Halla. Was this what Saint Dane had in store for the other territories? Was he going to march on the Milago village? On the barge city of Magorran? We fought dados in the subway on First Earth. Was Saint Dane already smuggling them to Earth?

The runner made it to the second line safely and passed the word to retreat. This time the archers moved back more cautiously, shooting arrows as they retreated. I was getting used to the sound of the explosions. Or maybe I was just numb. At least the explosions meant more dados were done. It was the
fum
from the Quillan weapons that made my skin crawl. That meant archers were in their sights.

The retreat went well. As soon as the first and second lines got behind the line of underground archers, a storm of arrows flew. There were so many explosions together that I thought my eardrums had popped. The village lit up again and again. I saw pieces of dado flying everywhere. It was the most intense barrage since the water guns had opened fire out on the ocean. The underground archers were protected and didn't let up. The dados didn't know where to shoot. The archers unloaded on them.

You know what the grand finale is like at a fireworks display? That's the best way I can describe what was happening in the village. The explosions came on top of one another. Over and over, relentlessly pounding the dados. There was so much
smoke I couldn't see the water anymore. Still the explosions kept coming.

I glanced at the tribunal. They watched the display, stone faced, with tears in their eyes.

Genj shook his head sadly. “How could life have gone so wrong?”

I knew why. The answer was flying somewhere over the smoke, looking down on the carnage. I began to imagine that each of the explosions was like a shot fired directly at Saint Dane. I hoped it hurt.

As quickly as it began, the barrage stopped. I hoped they weren't out of arrows. At that moment there was nothing to see but smoke. The archers may have decided to let the smoke clear to survey what they'd done. Of course, the dados would be doing the same thing.

“That is the most we can throw at them,” Alder said. “When the smoke clears, we will know if it was enough.”

I stepped away from the window. I needed a break. I could only imagine how the brave archers down below felt. I walked to the map on the wall. I realized that even if the dados were turned back, Rayne would be changed. A good third of the village would be in ruins. I looked at the drawing of the tunnel that ran beneath the village. If we won, it would be because of that tunnel.

“The smoke is clearing,” Drea announced.

I hurried back to the window to see that the slight, onshore tropical breeze was blowing the smoke off the battlefield.

“The invaders can't have survived that,” Genj said. “Can they?”

“We'll know soon enough,” I replied.

The smoke cleared. What we saw was both horrifying…
and beautiful. From the tunnel to the shore, nothing moved. Nothing. That area of the village was destroyed, but it was a small price to pay, because the dados that had landed were done. It was a vast junkyard of mechanical body parts. I could barely make out any sand beneath the jumble of wreckage.

“Is it possible?” Moman asked. “Is it over?”

I didn't want to let myself believe it, but the plan had actually worked. The tak had worked. The dados had been turned back. Saint Dane's army had been stopped in its tracks. I was already thinking ahead to what his next move might be, when Alder grabbed my arm.

“What?” I asked, surprised.

He pointed out to the bay. I looked, and my knees buckled.

“That was only the first wave,” he said soberly.

Another armada of dados on skimmers was passing through the opening, headed for the beach.

“The battle is just beginning,” I said.

IBARA

G
enj panicked.

“Get my people out of there!” he screamed. “Pull them back. We'll throw ourselves on their mercy. They won't slaughter us! Not if we surrender. I'll speak to their leader. I'll reason with him. His terms may be harsh, but we will survive. We must survive. I will contact him and—”

“Genj!” I interrupted. “He wants to destroy Ibara. Nothing you can say will change that.”

“But what choice do we have?” the man said, red faced. “This is suicide!”

He might have been right, but I wasn't ready to give up. Not yet, anyway. I walked back to the map and stared at it. An idea had been forming for a while. It would be an act of desperation. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but somehow I knew it would. It always did.

“We cannot hold back another attack, Pendragon,” Alder said calmly.

I ran to the window to see the progress of the next wave of dados. They had entered the bay and were moving slowly,
cautiously. They had learned from their mistakes. That was okay by me. We needed all the time we could get.

“There's a chance,” I said quickly. “But we have to commit now or there won't be enough time.”

“Whatever it is, let's do it!” Siry announced with confidence. “We've been through too much to give up now.”

“What do you suggest, Pendragon,” Alder asked.

“Siry, how many crates of tak are left?”

“Three,” he answered quickly. “They're at the base of the mountain.”

I faced the group and said, “You're right, Genj. Leaving the archers out there is suicide. Alder, get everyone back. Take twenty or so archers and set up on the fourth line of defense.” I pointed to the line we had drawn that was halfway between the mountain and the beach. “Get everyone else into the mountain. Everyone. The battle is over for them. Send runners down and evacuate the tunnel.”

“Pendragon,” Alder said worriedly. “We cannot hold back a fresh invasion for long with only twenty archers.”

“You won't have to. Let the dados land, and come forward. But stop them here.” I stabbed my finger on the map ahead of where the underground tunnel was located. “You don't have to put on a massive defense. Just keep them from advancing beyond this point. The more dados that join them from the rear, the better.”

Alder stared at the map, trying to understand my thinking. A second later I saw the light go on. He smiled and said, “It might work.”

“What might work?” Siry asked, frustrated. “What am I missing?”

“We're gonna let 'em come,” I answered. “Pack ‘em in. The more the merrier. The last sound they'll hear is a very big boom.”

Siry's eyes went wide when he figured it out. “We're going to blow up the rest of the tak down in the tunnel,” he gasped.

“Right under their robot butts,” I confirmed.

Genj and the ladies exchanged concerned looks. “It sounds dangerous,” Drea said.

“
Sounds
dangerous?” I laughed. “It's insane!” I looked to Siry and Alder. “If you're with me, say so now, because we don't have much time.”

Siry quickly shouted, “Are you kidding? Let's do it.”

“I will find the runners,” Alder said, and started for the door.

I hurried after him and stopped him just as he was about to leave. “You can't be anywhere near the trap when I spring it, but I have no way of letting you know when it's going to go.”

“Do not worry, Pendragon. I will make sure we keep our distance. But how will you explode the tak?”

I shrugged, “Haven't gotten that far yet.”

Alder gave me a quick hug and said, “I know I have said this before, but I am proud that you are the lead Traveler.”

“And I'm glad you talked me into letting you come here. Go!”

Alder took off running. I went back to the tribunal. “You'll be safe up here. Everyone in the mountain should be safe. If this fails, get out. Take everyone that's left and get out. Go to the far side of the island. Find the others and leave. Take fishing boats. Take anything that floats, but get away. Whatever happens do
not
let Saint Dane get to you. You people are now the pilgrims of Rayne.”

Genj nodded. He got it. The poor guy looked pale. Drea and Moman didn't look so hot either.

“Thank you,” Genj said.

“I'm counting on you to survive,” I told him. “The future of Veelox is yours.”

“And yours,” he added.

I grabbed my black dado rod, put it through the back of my shirt to free my hands, and headed for the door. Siry was right behind me. Timing would be everything. We had to be ready when the dados marched into the trap. We ran down the stone steps to the base of the mountain. The large ground-level cavern was being used as a makeshift battlefield hospital. Bodies of wounded archers were being carried in and placed on the floor. I was actually happy to hear them groaning. It meant they were still alive. Several runners tended to the wounded, bringing them water or bandaging up wounded limbs. One woman was working exceptionally hard.

“Telleo!” I called out. “I thought you were on the far side of the island.”

“I'm more valuable here. This is insane, Pendragon. Is the battle over?”

“It will be soon. We're going to end it.”

“Will you surrender?”

“Nah. We're setting up a little welcome gift for our guests. Should be a real blast. That's a joke.”

She didn't laugh. Neither did Siry.

“Be careful,” she said, and went back to helping the wounded.

Careful? That was an even better joke. The two of us ran to the far corner of the cavern, where a runner guarded the last three crates of explosives. We each lifted one of the heavy, square crates and lugged it toward the stairs that led to the tunnels below. The word to evacuate had already been given. We had to push our way past the stream of archers that climbed up and out. Their eyes were wide and frightened.
They were all too happy to get out of that tunnel. They looked shell shocked. Or tak shocked.

Between lugging the heavy crates and fighting against the stream of retreating archers, it was slow going. A couple of times I got jostled and nearly dropped the crate. That would have been messy. Finally the archers thinned out, and Siry and I had a clear path.

“How will we know when to set off the tak?” he asked as we shuffled along.

“We should hear the battle sounds above us. As soon as that starts, we'll know the dados have arrived.”

“And how do we set off the explosion?”

I didn't answer him. I didn't think he'd want to hear what I had in mind.

“Pendragon?” Siry insisted. He
did
want to know.

“It's easy to explode tak,” I answered. “The trick is to be somewhere else when it goes off.”

“So?”

“So I won't be. Somewhere else, I mean.”

“What!” Siry exclaimed. He stopped short and put his crate down.

I put my own crate down. “There's no way you're going to understand this, because I don't either. Saint Dane told me the Travelers are illusions. The more I see, the more I think he wasn't lying.”

Siry's response was to stare at me dumbly. No big surprise.

“I've killed Saint Dane and he didn't die,” I said. “He killed Loor and somehow she came back from the dead.”

“But my father is dead. And what about all the others who died?”

“I don't think they're gone. At least not entirely.”

“That makes no sense,” Siry cried. “Where are they?”

“I don't know,” I answered. “There's so much about Halla we don't know. Who created the flumes? What power controls them? How can Saint Dane do the things he does? He's a Traveler. We're Travelers. We may be more like him than we know. I don't think Travelers can die, at least not the way we think of it.”

“That's just crazy,” he shouted.

“I know, but I think it's true. Uncle Press promised me I'd see him again. I believe him. Maybe that time has come.”

Siry shook his head. He didn't want to accept what I was saying.

“Trust me, I don't want to do this,” I added. “But I think it's the only way to save Ibara. And Veelox. And Halla.”

“Let me do it,” Siry said with conviction. “This is my territory. It's my fault all this happened anyway.”

“It's not!” I exclaimed. “If not for you and the Jakills, Ibara never would have had a chance. Once this battle is over, the people are going to need you. You've got to help rebuild Ibara and Veelox. Beating Saint Dane and the dados is only the beginning. You and Genj and the others will be the new pilgrims.”

“What will the Travelers do without you?” he cried.

“I don't think they
will
be without me. The same way that I've felt Uncle Press was with me these past years, I think I'll still be with them, and with you. Believe me, if there was any other way, I'd—”

“Wait,” Siry said. He was staring at something on the ground. “Maybe there
is
another way.”

I looked to where he was staring. Lying there was a bow that one of the archers dropped as he fled from the tunnel.

“Maybe you're right about everything,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we're illusions. Maybe we can't die. But you
don't know for sure. You
can't
know. I say we put off finding out.”

I understood what he meant. There
was
another way.

“Go back,” I said quickly. “Get the arrows. I'll place the tak.”

Siry didn't hesitate. He turned and ran back toward the mountain. That's when we heard the first explosion from above. The final battle had begun. Siry stopped and looked back at me, saying, “You will wait for me, right?'

“Hurry.”

He was off, sprinting back the way we had come. I meant every word I said to him. I was prepared to find out the truth about the Travelers. Was I totally sure that I would somehow live on? No. But I was ready to take the risk. In some ways that felt like giving up. It was a drastic act of desperation to beat Saint Dane. If there was a way to beat him without going that far, I wanted to take it. Siry might have found that way.

I picked up one of the crates and hurried along the tunnel. I wished I could have taken them both, but it would have been too heavy, and I didn't want to risk dropping one. It was another fifty yards before I reached the intersection that was under the kill zone. A few more explosions went off above. Sand rained down on me from the concussions. Though the battle had begun, the explosions were few and far between. Alder was being smart. He didn't want them to know it was a trap. The full assault hadn't begun. The dados hadn't arrived in force. We still had time.

I placed the first crate of tak on the ground at the intersection of the tunnel that lead to the mountain and the tunnel that ran parallel to the shore. Before going back for the second, I pulled the dado weapon from the back of my shirt. I wouldn't need it anymore. I could run faster without it. I dropped it
on the ground next to the crate and sprinted back for the next load. More explosions sounded from above. Things were getting hotter. Siry had to hurry. I got to the second crate, picked it up, and hurried back to the intersection. When I arrived, I decided to place the second crate on top of the first. Raising the height would help our plan. It was done. The trap was set. I was about to turn and run back for the bow, when I realized something was wrong.

The dado weapon was gone. I looked around quickly. Was I crazy? I knew I'd put it down right by the crate just a minute before. Did it roll away? I heard a scraping sound come from the tunnel off to my left. I crouched down on full alert and gazed into the darkness. The tunnel was empty except for the ladders that led up to the lookout points.

“Hello?” I called. “Are you all right?” I figured it was one of the archers who was hurt and got left behind. I had to get him out of there fast. Leaving him there would be a death sentence. I heard shuffling footsteps. Somebody was definitely there.

“Hey, you've got to get out of here,” I called. “There's going to be a—”

The words caught in my throat when I saw who it was. Or I should say
what
it was. Walking stiffly from out of the darkness was a dado. I figured it must have somehow dug its way into the tunnel from above. It was one of the surviving dados from the first wave of the invasion. It moved strangely, as if its circuits were scrambled. It held my dado weapon, leaning on it like a crutch for support. I didn't know what to do. The machine was acting all wacky, as if it were on its last legs. I relaxed, thinking it would take a couple more steps and then…lights out.

I was wrong. Without warning, the dado attacked. It
swung the rod at me. I ducked and felt the sharp breeze as it whistled by, barely missing my head. Its next shot didn't miss. It whipped the metal rod back and cuffed me across the forehead, sending me reeling. I hit the far wall of the tunnel hard. Before I could get my feet under me, the dado came at me, holding the rod out like a spear. It was going to stab me. I threw myself backward. The tip of the rod dug into the wall where my body had been a second before.

I grabbed the rod with both hands and drove myself backward, bending my legs and digging in my heels. The dado didn't expect that. It held on to the rod and came with me. The two of us staggered together, until I lost my balance and fell back, pulling the dado along. We both crashed to the ground next to the crates of tak. If we had landed on them, well, the fight would have ended with a bang. The dado and I were jumbled together in a heap, clutching the weapon. Neither had control.

The dado's movements were jerky and rough. There was definitely something haywire with its system that must have affected its thinking, too, because it made a fatal mistake. It let go of the rod with one hand to punch me in the head. It clocked me pretty good. Man, I saw stars. But I didn't let go of the rod. I knew it was the one thing that would save me. I somehow kept my wits, and as the dado cocked back to hit me again, I twisted the rod out of its grasp. It swung again. This time I drove my legs and sprang out of the way. The dado hit nothing but air, and I was on my feet. I had the weapon. The dado followed through with the punch and landed on its back. I stood over it with the rod. The fight was over. Grasping the weapon firmly, I drove it into the dado's chest. Instantly the lights went out. The dado lay lifeless with the weapon pointing straight up. I staggered back, still dizzy from taking so
many shots. Still, I wasn't so dizzy that it kept me from hearing a mechanical, wheezing sound behind me.