He crawled over to the nearest dome, fifty feet away, and sat down against it. The first step of his unclear plan had been completed: He was inside the alien city without being discovered. As he sat there planning his next move, one of the alien airships approached from the southeast, descended and vanished into the maze of domes.
Seeing the ship sparked his memory of what had happened on the mountain. If Renga was correct, Leahy and his team had been taken away from the mountaintop by the airship he had seen while hiding in the gully. Since the ships probably used the same landing area, it would be a good place to begin his search for Leahy and the others. With that in mind, he began sneaking along the back perimeter of the domes toward the place where the ship had landed.
The night had darkened, casting deep shadows over the ground behind the domes. The deepening gloom diminished his chances of being discovered, so he felt free to move at a faster pace. Within a short time, another ship approached from a different direction and descended out of sight. He estimated that the landing field was less than a hundred yards from his position.
Staying out of the open areas, he worked his way to where he could see several aircraft sitting on a wide expanse of ground. The domes appeared to have been built around the field, creating a centralized landing zone. No one was near, so he stepped a few feet into the open. A few aliens were busy working around the domes several hundred feet away. None of them were looking in his direction. He had no way of knowing where Leahy was located, which meant he would have to capture one of them and force the information from him. He did not have long to wait. One of them was just exiting the newly arrived aircraft. The man walked down the ship's ramp then turned and looked at the doorway. As if by magic, the ramp retracted into the fuselage, and the entrance hatch closed.
Kasdan backed further into the shadows and flattened himself against the nearest dome. The alien was walking toward the interior of the city and would pass within a few feet of his hiding place. He pulled the hunting knife from its sheath. The muscles in his powerful arms tensed, and a thrill of excitement passed over him. The alien was tall, but not as tall as he, so there would be no problem in pulling him down from behind.
The Vryanian slowed his pace, and a curious look came over his face. He tilted his head sideways as though sensing something then looked behind him. Without stopping, he walked to within ten feet of where his assailant waited. Kasdan tensed, prepared to move quickly in case the alien saw him. As the man passed, he placed the knife back in its sheath and charged into the open. He encircled the alien's neck from behind with his brawny left forearm. His right hand went behind the alien's head and pushed it forward in a chokehold. The alien struggled, twisted and kicked, but no sound escaped his throat. Kasdan began to drag him back into the shadows. The man weighed surprisingly little in spite of his height. His hand went up, trying to pull the arm away from his throat, but Kasdan pushed even harder against his head.
"Stop fighting, or I will kill you," he spat into the alien's ear.
As though understanding the threat, the alien became limp, letting his dead weight sag against Kasdan's chest. After a few seconds, he slipped to the ground and lay still.
For the first time, Kasdan got a good look at an alien face. He noted the slight forehead bulge and the pale texture of his skin. The hair was of a silver color, falling to his shoulders. As Kasdan knelt staring at him, his eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes. In the pale light, they looked clear, as if they had no iris, only the dark pupil in a white background.
He slipped the knife out of its sheath and pressed it to the alien's throat. "If you make a sound, I will cut your throat," he warned with a snarl.
The man remained still, saying nothing.
"Do you understand me?" he asked.
Still no sound.
He pressed a fingertip to his lips and shook his head.
The clear eyes focused as he stared at the human. Kasdan felt a feathery sensation inside his head. The alien smiled and nodded.
Kasdan was visibly startled. He let up on the knife's pressure. "Telepathy," he muttered to himself. "Can you read my thoughts?" he asked the Vryanian in a quiet voice.
The alien spoke in his native tongue. "Kal dor reem," and shook his head.
Kasdan grasped him by the front of his tunic and jerked him to a sitting position. He pressed the knife a little harder against the Vryanian's throat, drawing a small dribble of blood. "Where have you taken the humans?" he demanded.
No answer, only a blank stare.
He put the knife between his teeth and slapped the alien hard across the face.
The man winced but still said nothing. He looked as though he were surprised at being struck.
Kasdan stared at him for a long moment then gripped the knife in his fist. "If you can't understand me, I have no use for you. He drew back with the knife, but before he could strike, the landing lights of an arriving airship swept across the field.
At the same instant, another alien he had not seen coming walked into view. He came to within a few paces and stood looking up at the aircraft. He grabbed a fistful of the Vryanian's hair and put the knife under his chin. He shook his head, a warning to remain quiet. In response, the Vryanian simply stared at him. There was no fear in his eyes.
Kasdan watched the aircraft settle to the ground a hundred feet away. The hatch opened, and a ramp slid from the fuselage to the ground. Two alien males and one female exited and went down the ramp. A few seconds later, Kasdan's mouth fell open and he froze in place.
Backlit by white light, Matt Leahy stood framed in the hatchway.
Chapter 20
Captured
The officer with whom Dbarr had been in communication was waiting for them when they arrived at the landing site. The Vryanians exited first, followed by Matt and the others. After greeting them in his own language, the officer handed the cloth-wrapped parcel to Dbarr.
At sight of the red cloth, Dbarr gave Matt a questioning glance. "To my knowledge, the Fir Bolg do not have woven cloth." He pulled the cord binding the parcel and opened it. The contents lay cradled in his palm. There was a note written in English and a shiny .357 magnum cartridge.
Taylor gave a sharp intake of breath. She grasped Matt's arm and squeezed. "That confirms it," she said. "We did see a man dressed in modern clothing."
Matt held out his hand. "May I see the parcel?" he asked Dbarr, who handed it to him. He read the message silently then read it aloud: Nuada, we are marching against you. Gather your forces and meet us in two days on the Plain of Moytura where the river empties into the loch. Bring the humans dressed in black with you. Do not fail. I will see you in hell, Matt Leahy.
Matt stood still, his face expressionless. He handed the items to Taylor, who read the note then passed it and the bullet to Jake.
"What does this mean to you?" Dbarr asked him.
Matt let out a breath. "It may be something from a long time ago. If it's what I'm thinking, the man who wrote this note was reported dead. Apparently, we were misinformed. He is a madman from the future, and one of the most dangerous people in existence. If he has somehow gained an alliance with the Fir Bolg, he is probably the driving force behind these continuing hostilities." He took the bullet from Jake and held it up for Dbarr to see.
"This is a very powerful explosive cylinder which propels this metal pellet at great speed." He touched the lead tip of the cartridge. "If it strikes you in a vital spot, you will be killed. Watch." He removed his Beretta from its holster, aimed at a small oak tree fifty feet away and fired one round. The noise startled the Vryanians.
"There should be a hole in that tree about an inch deep. The pellet will be at the bottom of the hole," he said.
Dbarr stared at the pistol for a long moment. "Michael DeLong had one of these in his possession when we rescued him from the Fir Bolg. We never examined it in detail, so did not realize its use."
"It should be of no real consequence to you in a battle," Matt offered. "The numbe
r of pellets it can fire is limited, and its effective range is about four hundred feet. Your wands are much more powerful than this weapon." He held up the Beretta then holstered it. "I know that your code of ethics prohibit you from using the wands against any sentient being unless it is in self protection, but it may be necessary in this situation."
Dbarr said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he touched the wand in his belt and said, "I do not want you to be misled about the power of these wands, Matt. You see, there has not been a war on Vryan for over a thousand years. We have no real military in your sense of the word, so we had no reason to develop a weapon for killing each other. These wands are used primarily for clearing areas of unwanted brush and for other construction purposes. It is true that they can be used as weapons and will utterly destroy anything that the beams touch. However, their range is less than the weapon you just demonstrated. It will only reach a distance of about two hundred feet at maximum power. We only carry them because we never know when we might encounter a group of hostile Fir Bolg. But in a battle, their primitive weapons are just as effective as ours. Fortunately for us, they do not know the limitations of the wands, so they remain fearful of them.
"Up to this point, we have always used weapons similar to theirs during the conflicts, and there are some important reasons for that. One is our code of ethics; the other is even more critical. Can you imagine what would happen to this world if we lost only a few of the wands on the battlefield and the Fir Bolg recovered them? Such devices in the hands of a barbarian nation would be disastrous for the entire planet. No one could stand against them. For that reason, only our commanders carry them, and those have very limited power. Just two or three usages will exhaust them.
Matt was visibly shocked by Dbarr's declaration. Judging from the population of New Vryan, the Fir Bolg probably had the Vryanians outnumbered. Man-for-man, a battle waged without using their superior technology would eventually go against them.
While Matt and Dbarr continued their talk, Taylor took Jake off to one side and explained the facts about John Kasdan and his vendetta against them. She also briefed him about the man they had seen running down the mountainside. After answering all Jake's questions, they rejoined the others.
Jake walked up to Dbarr. "I understand about the wands," he said, "but are there no other weapons at your disposal? I mean, something you could use as artillery?"
Dbarr looked nonplussed. "Artillery? I am afraid I do not know the word."
"Artillery refers to weapons that can destroy an enemy at long distances."
Dbarr remained pensive for almost a full minute. Finally, he stroked his chin and said, "Our vreels are equipped with more powerful versions of the wands. But they are designed for disintegrating large masses of rock and leveling hilly ground, not for the destruction of people." He paused for a few seconds then continued, "But they are capable of projecting a beam over much greater distances than the wands. Perhaps a thousand feet or so."
"How many vreels do you have?" Jake asked him.
"Eight."
Jake pursed his lips and nodded. As an officer in the U.S. Army Rangers, he was experienced in battle as well as a graduate of the Military War College. Possessed with an analytical mind, he was already formulating ways in which the Fir Bolg could be overcome without annihilating them. "They may be the answer to our problem," he said.
"How so?" Dbarr questioned.
"This note says that the Fir Bolg will meet you in two days at a prearranged location. That gives us some time to prepare. But before I explain how we can best use your resources, I need to see the proposed battle site. Could you arrange to fly me to that location?"
"Yes. First thing in the morning," Dbarr responded without hesitation.
"Before we do that, I want to see the three Fir Bolg warriors you are holding," Matt interjected. "We may gain some intelligence from them about the person who wrote the note."
Dbarr spoke a few words in the Vryanian tongue to the officer standing by. He turned and led them to a dome where the Fir Bolg were being held. Boan and his men were seated on a bench inside a ten-by-ten foot alcove off the main room. The cell was windowless, with no door or bars over the entrance. Two Vryanian guards were seated at a nearby table. The guards and prisoners all rose as Dbarr and his party entered.
Matt, aware that Vryanian technology was capable of rendering solid surfaces transparent, walked over to the cell's entranceway and tried to stick his hand inside. As he expected, his fingers met with an invisible barrier that felt like glass. He glanced at Taylor and said, "Get your translator ready. We might as well get started deciphering more of their language while we interrogate them."
Taylor put her hand over the utility belt pocket where she always kept her translator and found it empty. She felt in all the pockets of her L-suit but did not locate it. "I must have left it in the vreel," she said. "I'll go back and get it. It'll only take a minute."
"I'll go with you," Rael offered.
"There's no need, Rael. You'll be more helpful here. I'll be back before you have time to miss me." With that, she turned and started back to the landing field.
It took Kasdan a full minute to recover from the shock of seeing his hated enemy standing no more than a hundred feet away. Without realizing it, he dropped the knife's point from the Vryanian's throat. He felt the man move and clapped his hand over his mouth. Still holding the heavy knife in his fist, he used the handle as a bludgeon and struck him a terrific blow on top of the head. The Vryanian went limp.
Kasdan flattened himself beside the alien and watched Matt and Taylor descend the ramp. His eyes narrowed as he saw the huge form of Jake Donovan follow them down. The three humans reached the bottom of the ramp and joined the aliens waiting there. The man who had watched the airship arrive, walked over to the group and greeted them. He was surprised when he saw him hand over the red-wrapped package to a tall alien standing with Leahy.
He watched the alien unwrap the package, examine the contents then hand it to Leahy. Some extended conversation took place, after which Leahy drew his pistol and fired it at a nearby tree. There was more talk, then they all walked away toward the maze of domes. He watched them disappear into the darkness and mentally marked their last visible position.
The alien beside him had not moved since he struck him with the knife. Unsure about where his heart was located, he put his ear to various places on the chest area but heard nothing. Next he patted down the outside of his clothing, but did not find anything of interest. Assuming the man was dead, he dragged the body deeper into the shadows and pushed it up against the bottom of a dome. Satisfied that no one would discover the corpse until daylight, he crept into the dim light of the landing field. There was no sign of Leahy and the others. The aliens who had been working around the area were also gone.
It was not possible that Leahy and his team could have gone far, so he began moving in the shadows dome-to-dome until he reached the exact place where he had last seen them. A believer in the notion that nothing could be accomplished without acting boldly, he began a slow advance toward the interior of the city. He had not gone far when he saw someone coming. He took cover behind a large rectangular tower attached to one of the domes and waited for the person to pass.
There are occasions, no matter how great the odds, when time, situation, and place converge at random to alter human history. Such an event now presented itself to John Kasdan. He could not believe his eyes when he saw Taylor Griffin returning toward the landing field. His luck was holding; she was alone. If he did not move, she would pass directly by where he was hidden. He bunched his muscles and waited. He had known Taylor for over five years, and was aware that she could be physically dangerous when circumstances dictated. There would be no room for mistakes. Overcoming her would not be as easy as it was with the alien he had just killed. In spite of his greater size, if he missed his first attempt to grab her from behind, he would not get a second one.
Taylor felt secure in the saf
ety of the alien city, so had no reason to exercise more than normal caution. She did not look in Kasdan's direction as she passed the tower. Suddenly, a powerful arm encircled her neck and a hand grabbed her right wrist, twisting her arm behind her back. The assailant's knee slammed into the base of her spine and bent her backwards. She felt her windpipe close, cutting off air to her lungs. Trained to react quickly, she raised her left leg and raked the edge of her boot down the attacker's shin. She heard him grunt in pain. As he tightened his arm around her throat, she reached back with her left arm and grabbed his ear. With a vicious twisting motion she jerked it forward and felt the flesh tear. He muffled a howl of pain and released her arm. As soon as the arm was free, she reached for the pistol on her belt. Something slammed into her right temple as her fingers closed around its handle. Yellow lightening exploded inside her head then darkness. She collapsed into Kasdan's arms.
He threw her limp body over his shoulder and broke into a trot back toward the landing field. Arriving there, he proceeded around the dome behind which he had hidden the alien's body. He glanced at the still form as he passed, gratified that it had not been discovered. Within a few minutes he reached the place where he had crawled under the fence. He laid Taylor out on the ground with her head near the loose sod. It took less than a minute for him to empty the hole of dirt and pass underneath. Once there, he reached back through and grasped the collar of Taylor's L-suit. Carefully, he dragged her under the fence and refilled the hole with sod. Satisfied that the entry point was undetectable except on close inspection, he picked her up and made his way into the trees.
If he were lucky, it would be at least twenty minutes before the others discovered her missing. He hefted her limp form over his shoulder and started through the trees, reaching the other side of the forest with a few minutes to spare. Open ground lay beyond, with only scattered patches of trees all the way to the Fir Bolg fort. He estimated that with his powerful physique he could carry the five-foot-eight, hundred and twenty-five pound woman about three miles per hour. At that rate, he would reach the fort in six hours, still under the cloak of night. However, he had never been guilty of underestimating the odds against him. He knew that she would fight him all the way and double his travel time if she regained consciousness. If that happened, he stood a good chance of being caught in the open by one of the alien airships.