From: Clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk (Clive May)
Subject: Desert Of Fear new instalment. 1/2.
Date: Tue, 12 Nov 2002 21:14:49 +0000 (UTC)
WARNING: There is a physical relationship between two women implied in the
narrative. If you would be offended by such, please do not read any further.
Dr Who is copyright to the BBC. The Dr Who mythos is used here without
permission.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Ken Young"
Subject: Next bit
Date: 07 November 2002 16:57
Avis City main control room.
[ The controller looked at chaos and the occasional wisp of smoke as
screens that had last been used centuries before came to life. With a
crook of her finger, she summoned her aide. ]
Controller " Mora, make a note, the Head of Maintenance is to be severely
reprimanded. She has obviously allowed the space defence systems to fall
into disrepair. Carla what do we have? "
[ The operator was frantically paging through a manual to check vague
memories from basic training. Like Maintenance, she had never expected to use
the space defence system. ]
Carla " We have a spaceship in what the computer says is an orbital
insertion trajectory. Indications are that it has launched one large
and several small objects. Tentative identification is that the large
one is a shuttle. The small ones are unidentified, computer
predictions are that the shuttle is landing and the other objects, ah
that's five of them, are entering low orbit. "
Controller " What about the ship? "
Carla " Indications are that it is taking up a geosynchronous orbit
over the Vale. It does not fit anything in the data banks; but they
have not been updated for the last five hundred years. The best guess
is some sort of cruiser. "
Controller " Mora, inform the Queen and Lady Kali of this event. "
Mora " Why tell the bitch? "
Controller " Careful, Mora, not everybody feels like that about the
Queen."
Mora " I meant Kali! "
Controller " Being misunderstood can be fatal - so can calling the
new Commander of the Guard a bitch. Now, to answer the question you meant to
ask, anything not covered specifically in standing orders is to be referred
to the Guard Commander. Standing orders for space defence were struck from
the record centuries ago. "
Carla " That hardly matters, by accident or design nothing we have left in
working order is in range. By the way, we have a prediction of the shuttles
landing point. It is in the High Desert, in the general locality of where
the Kumin were supposed to have been. "
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Clive May
Subject: Desert of Fear
Date: 11 November 2002.
"Lady Kali?" Rhanda called softly. She was kneeling on the bed, her slender
form clothed only in shadow. Before her, stretched out on the rumpled sheets,
lay Kali's naked form. The older woman was rigid, as though
carved from marble. Her head, resting
on the pillows, was surrounded by her coppery locks. The long hair was
tousled from their recent exertions. Kali made no sign that she had heard.
Her face remained blank of any expression, while her eyes stared without
seeing at the shadowed ceiling of the bed chamber.
Hesitantly, Rhanda reached out a hand to the woman's shoulder. The bare skin
felt clammy under her hand. She shook gently. "Lady Kali? Are you ill?"
Rhanda felt panic rising. Her heart began to beat faster. She shook the
woman more urgently. "Lady Kali? Please wake up!"
A long slow shudder wracked Kali's body. A sense of self surfaced in
the emptiness of her eyes, animating the features with a cruel beauty. She
blinked, and rolled her head to look up at the girl leaning over her. She
frowned. Her lips parted as she made to speak, then her expression turned to
distaste as she grew aware of the girl's hand resting on her
shoulder.
Rhanda caught her breath at the unexpected ferocity of the expression.
Snatching back her hand, she said: "Madam?...I'm sorry...I..." Rhanda's hasty
apology stuttered into silence, sudden fear making her edge away across the
bed.
Kali blinked; and her expression cleared somewhat. She pasted on a smile,
which made a creditable job of imitating sincere affection in the subdued
lighting. "Whatever is the matter, Rhanda?" she asked. She reached up a
languorous hand to encircle the girl's neck. Shadows chased tawny gold over
her perfect skin as she stretched. She ruffled fingers through Rhanda's
short hair, and drew down the girl's head. Peering into Rhanda's frightened
eyes, she said: "Why, you're trembling. Whatever is the matter, girl?"
"Nothing," Rhanda said, feeling foolish for her momentary panic.
"It must have been something, Kali chided, an edge of threat in her voice.
"Remember what I told you, Rhanda...You must be sure to tell me everything.
We are engaged in a dangerous enterprise and anything...anything at all, no
matter how insignificant it might seem t you, might be of vital importance to
our plans. It could easily be the key we need to unlock the matter."
Rhanda nodded thoughtfully. "Well...You were in...I suppose it was some sort
of trance. You went rigid. I couldn't rouse you. Your eyes were so empty,
I was afraid. What was it?"
Kali released the girl, and stared at the ceiling. She remained silent for
so long, puzzling over the pattern of light and dark thereupon, that Rhanda
was moved to ask: "Lady? What is it?" She curbed a desire to reach out to
the woman, for fear of Kali's reaction.
"I'm fine." Kali said. "It's nothing with which you need to concern
yourself." She sat up, reached out, took the kneeling woman's arm and drew
her close. "We have to talk," she said.
"What about?"
"How we are going to save Avis."
"Can Avis truly be saved?" Rhanda asked, an unlooked for hope colouring her
voice. "She is in a bad way, and getting worse every day."
"Yes. Of that I am certain," Kali affirmed. "But there is much we will have
to do if we are to prevent the feeble rule of that foolish old woman
Shanneril bringing us to disaster...And the first priority must be to replace
her." Kali paused a moment to study Rhanda's face. Then she asked: "Do you
not agree?"
"I don't know?" Rhanda said.
"You must be with me whole heartedly in this, Rhanda," Kali stressed. "I
must be able to trust you implicitly or Avis could be doomed . There is no
knowing what that insane lunatic Cain will do next to further his madness.
You must be with me in this...Heart and soul, Rhanda."
"I am, I am," Rhanda was quick to assure. "It's just that...Well...Shanneril
IS the Queen. She cannot be replaced, except by unanimous vote of the High
Council...What you are proposing is high treason."
"Haven't you left it a bit late to worry about treason...Now, Rhanda, are you
with me whole hearted in this endeavour to save Avis or not?"
In answer, Rhanda leaned in close and kissed Kali on the mouth. She drew
back, and lowered her eyes submissively. "I am yours to
command...Absolutely. I care deeply about what happens to our great city of
Avis. I long to see it restored to its proper position of greatness...I know
that you can bring that about."
For a long moment, Kali studded the girl's expression in the soft radiance of
the bedside lamp. Acute suspicion shadowed the emerald depths of Kali's
eyes. "I do wish I could be certain about you, Rhanda?" she murmured. "So
much depends on your loyalty."
"You can! Lady Kali. You can trust me with your life!"
"I do hope so," Kali said. "Because, as things stand, you already hold that
precious gift in your hands." She shot a significant glance to where the
death warrant lay on the bedside table in the pool of light, beside the empty
wine glasses.
"I brought it straight to you," Rhanda said.
"Yes. You did, didn't you?" Kali mused.
"Doesn't that prove my loyalty?"
"Yes, of course. But you also have a loyalty to Avis City." Kali paused to
study the Girl's face. "Sometimes, I wonder which is the greater loyalty?"
Rhanda looked hurt. "Do you wish me to prove my loyalty...Again!"
"That will not be necessary...Right at this moment. And Rhanda...You must
call me Kali when we are in private. After all, we have become
somewhat...Well...Intimate."
Rhanda gave her a doe eyed expression, which did not quite convince. Moved
by Kali's seeming coyness, Rhanda leaned in to kiss her again; but the older
woman held her off.
"I told you that will not be necessary. We've time enough for more of that
later. Now we must talk. Do you agree that Shanneril must go - for the good
of Avis?"
"Yes," Rhanda stated without hesitation.
"Good! Then we must decide on a replacement."
"You must be Queen," Rhanda began. "You can..."
"No," Kali interrupted her. "That cannot work. You have a completely rigid
cast system in place here. They would not accept an outsider especially an
Overworlder. No! It can only be someone from inside the system. Someone we
can trust...Someone from the right background, and with the right status....A
woman who can gain the trust of all the contending factions..." Kali trailed
off into silence, wondering how long it was going to take this stupid child
to realise where she was being led.
"I can prepare a list of possible names," Rhanda said eagerly.
Kali suppressed a sigh. She'd much rather have had the girl come up with the
idea herself; but time was pressing. "There's no need for any of that. None
will b suitable."
"But, Kali?" Rhanda started to protest.
Kali silenced Rhanda with a finger on the Girl's lips. "We have the perfect
choice right here," She said. To emphasise her meaning, Kali shook Rhanda
gently. Vaguely, Kali wondered if Rhanda was a suitable tool for the job.
She needed someone compliant, and not too imaginative, but she had to be able
to carry out orders effectively - at least in the short term.
"You mean me?" Rhanda exclaimed with what she hoped was just the right amount
of incredulity. "But I'm not of the Shanneril Clan."
"But you are of the Temple Cast?"
Rhanda nodded. I'm a junior officer in the Elite Temple Guard. But the
Council would never take my orders over that of a member of Clan Shanneril."
"You let me worry about that, Rhanda. Besides, once you are installed as
Queen pro tem, we'll move directly to crush that useless bunch of wasters who
are ruining our great City. We'll appoint a new Council to govern properly
under your direction."
"But I'm so young," Rhanda protested. "I'm only a very junior officer. Even
if they accept me, are you sure I could do it?"
"I have faith in your abilities, Rhanda...Great faith," kali said, making a
fair stab at sincerity. "Besides, you'll not be taking the decisions alone.
I will be there to advise you. Together, we can make Avis great once more.
Now, Rhanda, will you do it?"
"I will," Rhanda stated firmly.
A vision of Avis restored to beauty and elegance, floating against the blue
immensity of the sky, shimmered before her inward eye. On the desert below,
Servii in their millions prostrated themselves before the great black shadow
cast upon the burning sand. On the High Throne sat herself, ruling
wisely, while an adoring Kali looked up to her from the steps.
With Kali's persuasive voice whispering in her ears, Rhanda was almost
convinced...Almost. But Rhanda was not cursed with self delusion; neither
was she stupid or unimaginative. "It's a beautiful dream," she sighed.
"We can make that dream a reality, Rhanda, you and I..."
"I don't see how. The engines would have to be fixed first," Rhanda pointed
out.
"That is well in hand," Kali said.
"How can that be? There are none on the City with the skill to mend the
engines. No one even knows how they work any more. All the technicians died
soon after the disaster."
"Murdered by the Renegade, no doubt," Kali informed her. "To prevent the
damage being repaired."
"Why would he do that to us?"
That was an avenue of investigation which Kali did not want explored.
"Because he is insane," she said in a dismissive tone. She forestalled any
further discussion on that topic by pressing on quickly. "Why he did what he
did is of no consequence now. What we are going to do about it is what
matters now."
"I don't see what can be done...unless you know how the engines work?"
"Not myself. It's not my speciality. But I will be bringing in some
technicians to help me with the repairs. They will stay out of sight in the
generator sections and will not mix with the people. There is already a team
at work assessing the damage the Renegade did to the Field Generator."
"How long do you think it will take to make the repairs?"
" A day or so. Then the new age of greatness for Avis City can commence.
We'll begin by taking her to that heap of dung the Servii call a city, and
crushing it into rubble. That should suffice as a demonstration of the power
of Avis to knock the fight out of those troublesome Beast Men. Then we must
take the City to the Vale and ensure that the Renegade does not inconvenience
the Lord of the Vale..."
"What? But he is a bitter enemy of Avis!" Rhanda exclaimed in shock.
"not so, Rhanda. For though you know it not, Rhanda, he is secretly a
powerful ally of Avis, and must be aided in his time of need."
"Whatever you say, Kali," Rhanda concurred, her voice laden with a quality of
submissiveness which worried Kali equally as much as her doe-eyed look
earlier had.
Across the room, a "call waiting" light began to blink on the comm unit.
Rhanda started to slide from the bed and reach for her uniform. "I'd best
not be here when you answer that," she said. " I mustn't be seen here like
this."
Kali grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her back onto the bed. "That can
wait," she said and pushed the girl down onto the soiled sheets.
"I thought you said there was no time for that?" Rhanda demurred, one eyebrow
arching in coy inquiry.
"Your loyalty is a matter of great importance to me, Rhanda," Kali explained
in a mock serious tone, before going on in a playful half-whisper: "So we
must always be certain to make enough time for you to prove your loyalty."
She leaned over the supine girl, and smiled down into her eyes. Suddenly
Kali stiffened. Her eyes unfocused. For a long frightening moment, desire
warred openly with distaste on her face. Rhanda did not notice; already, her
own eyes had closed and her lips had parted to receive Kali's kiss. Then the
cold beauty seeped back into Kali's expression; and she was covering Rhanda's
mouth with her own.
Neither woman noticed the slight movement, and glint of light, as a tiny lens
set in a corner of the ceiling moved to track their naked bodies.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A spatter of blood falling across his face warned Marduk that his hopeless
search was at an end.
He looked up into the ravaged canopy. Half hidden by the vine entangled
branches hung the bulk of Striker's bird. With a weary sigh, Marduk pulled
off his helmet, and ran a hand through his hair. The tight black curls were
sodden with sweat. He did not fancy the climb in this enervating humidity;
but he owed it to his Wing Man to check.
He began to climb. There was an ungodly amount of blood. The trunk was
slick with it. It was as bad as he suspected. Striker's bird was a broken
wreck resting in a crotch, about eighty feet above the ground. His Wing Man
was still in the saddle; but a broken branch had taken him under the chin and
punched up into his brain, all but ripping off his head.
Marduk climbed down and resumed his search for the one wing man who was still
missing. Bartran he knew about already. The man had scorned the wearing of
safety straps and had been catapulted from his mount when the thunderbolt
struck. He was dead. Which left only Geta to be accounted for.
Marduk himself had come through completely unscathed by that strange
compression wave which had smote his patrol from the sky. His dead bird had
landed underneath, shielding him from the broken branches.
Ten minutes after clambering down from the tree, he found Geta's bird. It
was a crumpled ruin of bloody feathers in a thicket with Geta's left leg
sticking out from underneath. She'd be dead, too, with all that weight on
her. Still, he was a conscientious officer, and so set himself to try and
move the mountain of flesh.
After several minutes of futile heaving, Marduk sat back on his heels to get
his breath. There was no chance of moving the dead bird on his own. He was
considering whether he had done enough to satisfy his innate dedication to
duty, when the cool point of a blade touched the back of his neck. Marduk
froze.
Very slowly he turned his head, and found himself looking up the slightly
curved blade of a Servii sabre. He recognised the beast man at the other end
as War Chief Ghorlok. A few yards off, stood four more Servii - all Chief
Men from their garb. One, he recognised as Jaskah, was carrying the limp
form of a girl in his arms. She was bundled up in bloody rags, which had
once been white. Her long black hair swung before Jaskah's thigh, stirred by
the fetid breeze. An obscene multi- coloured third eye had been tattooed on
her forehead. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth.
The whole group looked somewhat battered; but an innate fierceness still
burned in their triple eyed regard; and Marduk could read the ages old hatred
of his people in their bestial faces. He knew that he must die.
After a long moment, when nothing happened, he shrugged and leaned in once
more to try and move the bulk of the bird. All the while he expected to feel
a blade in his back. Perhaps it was all the shocks of the last hour, or the
concern for his companion, but the thought did not trouble him overmuch. He
was not even surprised when a green bulk took up station on either side, took
a grip on the dead weight, and heaved. Powerful muscles tensed, sliding
under green skin; and the bird's body was effortlessly rolled aside.
Marduk reached in and lifted the slight woman from the hollow between two
rocks. Easing her unconscious form to the forest floor, he drew off her
flying helmet, releasing Geta's riot of wavy brown tresses. She was
breathing, at least; and there were no obviously broken bones. Marduk undid
the flying jacket and opened the blood soaked leather. He gently ran his
fingers over the linen shirt, probing gently for any obvious damage. As to
internal injuries, he couldn't say; he had little medical knowledge; but the
colour of her round face and full lipped mouth looked good.
The gentle slapping of her cheek roused Geta. She uttered a low moan, and
opened her eyes. Seeing the concerned face of Marduk close over her, she
smiled weakly. A moment later, the dark vegetation behind his head
registered. She frowned.
"Where?...What?..."
"It's alright, Geta. You took a tumble. You'll be fine in a moment.
Here..." Marduk put an arm behind her shoulder and eased her into a sitting
position. "There now. I don't think anything's broken."
Geta looked around. Her brown eyes went round as saucers, when her gaze lit
upon the four Servii standing in a line a few feet away. She gave a little
cry of alarm, and shrank into Marduk's chest. He tightened his arm about her
protectively, murmuring: "It's alright, Geta. I won't let them harm you."
An amused chuckle rumbled in Ghorlok's throat. He grinned, displaying his
fangs to their best advantage. "Thou hast at least the words of courage,
Skyborn vermin. Hast thou also the heart to match such words with deeds as
brave?"
Marduk gently disentangled himself from Geta. He rose, drawing a flintlock
pistol from his belt. From a boot sheath, he drew a slender dagger. With a
weapon in each hand, he advanced a few steps towards the line of green
skinned giants.
Ghorlok ignored the pistol aimed at his chest. He nodded his head solemnly.
"It is well done, Skyborn," he judged. "Thy courage at the least saveth me
from dishonor in slaying thee. Loose your ball, Skyborn Vermin and have
done."
Marduk squeezed the trigger. The pistol's mechanism clacked. There was
neither explosion nor recoil, either in pistol or Ghorlok. A grin of wry
amusement settled on Marduk's mouth. He wondered vaguely if the expression
would be entirely lost on the War Chief. He said: "It's not loaded. I have
never been able to obtain either powder or ball for it. It's only for show,
really. We don't carry weapons on the High Patrol - the extra weight only
slows us down. However, such a lump of wood and metal does have its uses..."
With an ostentacious gesture, Marduk flipped the pistol, and caught it by the
barrel. He hefted it meaningfully, looking the War Chief in the eye.
"Ok...Bring it on...Groundhog."
Ghorlok's response was to shoot out a massive paw and take Marduk about the
throat. He lifted the small man up to face level. Then he began to squeeze.
Letting go a scream of fear and anger, Geta drew her own dagger. She flew at
Ghorlok. Jaskah shifted Xel to one arm and moved to intercept. He snatched
Geta's wrist and swung her up into the air. Geta's surprise was only
momentary. The next second, she had scissored her legs about the mightily
thewed arm and sank her teeth into Jaskah's forearm. The big Servii merely
scowled and lowered his head, jaws wide, to bite the game little woman's head
off. His fangs closed on her neck.
"Hold!" Ghorlok commanded. The War Chief set the purple-faced Marduk on his
feet, steadying the man with a hand on his shoulder. "'Tis passing strange
to find such courage in Skyborn vermin. Both thou hast proved thyselves
worthy to be named allies in adversity of the Servii Horde - even thou,
female. I, Ghorlok, War Chief offer truce to our traditional enemies...At
least until a path is found from this abominable place of heat and wet. How
sayest thou, Skyborn? Truce?"
Unable to speak, Marduk nodded his acceptance. Then he stumbled over to
receive Geta from Jaskah's grip. Marduk set the slight woman on her feet.
Geta rubbed her crushed wrist and scowled at Jaskah, and then caught sight of
Xel. Her expression softened.
"Who is she?"
"Thou lookest upon the Battle Mascot of the Servii Horde," Ghorlok rumbled.
"And she must be roused, or carried from hence with despatch, else sent to
join the Spirit of the Sacred Land forthwith."
"No!" Geta exclaimed, when the dreadful meaning of Ghorlok's words sank in.
Her motherly instincts were instantly aroused. "She is only a child, you
monster! You can't kill her!"
"No mere child she, Skyborn! Xel is our Embodiment of the Spirit of the
Sacred Land; and while she yet endures the "little death", she is a danger of
surpassing peril to the Servii. Should she not wake soon in this accursed
Vale, and look to all our defence, the Lord will have the Soul of the Servii
in his cruel claws. Woe betide such a disaster, for it shall encompass not
just the Tribes of the Sacred Land, but the world entire. This must not be.
Better the child should end quickly upon the merciful blade of her People
than that."
"No! You can't just murder the child out of hand no matter what!" Geta
cried. She snatched at the unconscious girl, pulling Xel from Jaskah's arm.
Cuddling the child to her breast, she backed away from the Servii to take
cover behind Marduk.
Jaskah growled, and moved to take back the girl.
"Hold!" commanded Ghorlok. Jaskah obeyed, but did not look happy. Ghorlok
turned his penetrating gaze upon the fierce little woman. He growled in his
throat before he said: "Succour the child if it be thy heart so to do, little
mother? But I charge thee, Skyborn, in taking to your care our Mascot, know
thou that you take upon thyself the duty to keep safe the very Heart and Soul
of the Servii. I charge thee to be strong, in thy resolve, should the need
arise, to despatch the child without hesitation."
All the other Servii started to protest at once; but Ghorlok was resolute.
He silenced them with a raised hand, and fixed Geta with his fiercest glare.
"Wilt thouh pledge to use thy blade as prescribed to keep the world from
harm?"
Geta had no chance to ponder the Servii's words, for there came a sudden
shout of warning from Jaskah. He directed their attention away between the
crowding trees. Far back in the sun dappled gloom something was moving.
Like pale ghosts, a silent host was gliding towards them.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------