Authors: Mitch Benn
The building shook again.
Why hasn’t anyone given the evacuation order?
wondered Bsht. Then she thought,
Evacuate to where?
and finally,
Who’s ‘anyone’?
There was no plan. You couldn’t plan for something like this. No one was in charge. It was up to her to save the children.
From the corridor outside, the sound of pupils and staff fleeing for the exits. Everyone else seemed to have come to the same conclusion. It was time to go.
The building shook again, and again. The children yelped and whimpered with fear.
-
Everybody listen to me!
Bsht called out above the noise and panic.
Listen to me! It’s not safe here any more. We need to get out of the Lyceum, maybe even out of the city. Now come with me and STAY TOGETHER. Pktk, Fthfth, wait until last and keep an eye on the littler ones.
Bsht led the children out into the corridor. The building shook violently, seeming almost to lurch. They passed lectoriums and laboratories, all deserted. From a room at the end of the corridor, Bsht heard a frantic voice.
-
Can anyone hear me? There are children in this building! Cease your fire! There are children here! Anyone?
Looking in, she saw Vstj yelling desperately out of the window.
-
Vstj! What are you doing! Get away from the window!
-
I’ve got to talk to them! I’ve got to find someone to negotiate with!
-
It’s the G’grk, Vstj. They don’t negotiate. Come with us.
Keeping low and gibbering with fear, Vstj scampered out into the corridor and joined the line of children.
-
Get to the back, make sure we don’t leave any behind,
said Bsht, leading the way once more.
Vstj crawled to the back of the queue. -
Fthfth, isn’t it? How nice to see you again. How’s your mother?
Bsht rounded a corner. Ahead of them was an emergency grav-chute, down which – if it was working – they could slide straight to the main atrium on the ground floor. What they would find down there, Bsht didn’t want to contemplate yet. They’d deal with that in due course.
She saw the grav-chute portal. On his knees, next to the portal, was Pshkf. He had a box of tools and was tinkering frantically with the chute controls.
-
It’s fried,
he said,
I reckon I can fix it, though.
-
How long is that going to take?
asked Bsht, annoyed by the squeaky tone of her voice.
-
Why, do you have something you’d rather be doing right now?
retorted Pshkf.
Anyway it’ll be quicker if you give me a hand.
Bsht sighed. -
Everybody wait here a moment. Vstj, keep the children together. No wandering off, and that includes you.
The building shook again. -
We’ll be right here,
said Vstj airily.
Take your time.
-
What exactly are you doing?
Bsht whispered, passing Pshkf a vibro-spanner.
-
Ripping out the fused circuits and bypassing them with circuits from the lights. Here we go . . .
Pshkf touched the chute activation switch (which was now dangling from the wall on a bit of loose cabling) and the chute hummed into action.
Bsht turned to address the children. -
Right, listen to me. One at a time, and walk—
The corridor exploded. Whatever those missiles were that the G’grk were firing at the building, one had hit the floor above them. With a roar of displaced matter, the ceiling collapsed between Vstj and Bsht. Vstj and the children were blown over one way by the blast, Bsht and Pshkf the other.
Bsht was first back on her feet. -
Vstj! Vstj! Are you there?
Vstj’s voice came through the rubble. -
Yes, we’re all right. But we can’t get through to you now.
Bsht felt a sharp sting of despair and shame. She was cut off from the children, the children she was sworn to protect. Then Vstj’s voice came again, and it had a quality Bsht had never heard before.
-
It’s okay. I’ve got the children. I’ll get them out of here.
-
Vstj, I . . .
-
Go. Get to the ground floor. Bring help if you can. We’ll be fine, I’ll keep the children safe.
Something in Vstj’s voice told Bsht that he believed what he was saying. And stranger still, so did she.
-
Good luck, Vstj,
she said.
-
It’s me,
said Vstj,
I’ve always been lucky.
Bsht turned to Pshkf. -
It’s still working?
she said incredulously, hearing the hum of the grav-chute.
-
When I fix something, it stays fixed,
smiled Pshkf.
Now come on,
he said, picking up his toolbox, and a large bag which he slung over his shoulder. It took some effort; whatever he had in there was obviously very heavy. Bsht realised what it was.
-
Is that . . . oh, you have got to be crazy . . .
-
That’s what you do in a crisis, isn’t it?
said Pshkf.
Grab your most prized possession and run? Not my fault if my prized possession weighs a bit.
He patted the bag containing his lovingly restored vintage thirty-first-era infralight drive, and stepped into the chute. Bsht shook her head and stepped in after him.
S
ecurity Chief Fskp had waited for a moment like this his whole life, and now that it had arrived, he was disappointed to find he wasn’t enjoying it in the slightest.
It had been, by and large, a relaxing job being in charge of the Preceptorate Retinue. Policing a temple of learning and contemplation; keeping the peace in a place where the peace kept itself. There had been the occasional interesting moment, he supposed – that time when that skinny f’zft had turned up with an alien baby sprang to mind – but nothing you could base a thrilling memoir on, certainly.
He’d been trained for battle and seen none; six orbits he’d spent in the Mlml Space Infantry with not so much as a scratch on him. Peace. Overrated.
Finally he reasoned that if the nation were to be mired in permanent serenity, then he might as well spend it at home. He resigned from the infantry with full honours, took up the Preceptorate job and his boots had rarely left his desk since.
Now battle had found him at last, and he was beginning to see what it was that everybody liked about peace so much.
He crouched behind the reception desk in the main atrium of the Preceptorate complex. Beyond the crystal doors of the atrium, a giant blue sphere throbbed and hovered. Fskp aimed his pulse-orb at the sphere. He had few illusions about being able to do it much damage. He held his aim and waited for the sphere to do something.
What it did was speak. A voice, harsh, guttural, deafeningly loud.
-
MLMLN SLAVES! YOUR MASTERS HAVE ARRIVED! EMBRACE YOUR DEFEAT AND RECEIVE THEIR MERCY!
-
We’ve heard about your mercy!
shouted one of Fskp’s guards. He had no idea if the G’grk could hear him but didn’t care.
My brother was in Dskt!
The Retinue had taken positions behind any upright structure they could find. They trained their pulse-orbs on the sphere, and waited.
The tension was broken by the swish of the grav-chute door opening. Fskp wheeled round as if to fire, but lowered his weapon on seeing Bsht and Pshkf.
-
Get down, the pair of you! Take cover!
Bsht and Pshkf dropped down behind the reception desk, alongside Fskp.
There was a pause. -
They’ve stopped,
noticed Bsht.
-
What?
asked Pshkf.
-
They’ve stopped firing.
-
The Wrath of The Occluded Ones,
muttered Fskp.
That’s what they call it. It’s how the G’grk began the assault on Dskt. Massive aerial bombardment just to show them who was boss. Then once everyone was terrified and disorientated they sent in the ground troops.
-
Cowards,
muttered Bsht.
-
It’s war,
said Fskp.
The voice came again.
- TEACHERS! LECTORS! EDUCATORS! YOUR WORK HERE IS FINISHED! A NEW ORDER BEGINS! HISTORY STARTS AFRESH!
Bsht and Pshkf glanced at each other, wondering.
- SEND THE CHILDREN OUT TO US!
Bsht closed her eyes. Pshkf’s jaw clenched. That was why they hadn’t destroyed the building. They wanted the children.
-
THERE IS NOTHING MORE YOU CAN TEACH THEM. YOU CAN NO LONGER PROTECT THEM. THEY BELONG TO US NOW. THEY WILL NOT BE HARMED. SEND THE CHILDREN TO US AND THEY WILL BE SAFE.
-
Pshkf,
whispered Bsht,
that infralight drive of yours . . .
-
I know, I know, I should have left it behind . . .
-
Shut up a moment and listen. A ship can only engage its infralight drive once it’s in space, am I right?
-
That’s right; you use bubble generators to get off the planet and fire up the drive once you’re in orbit, why?
-
What would happen if you were to start up the drive while on the planet’s surface?
-
Something bad.
Bsht gestured towards the blue sphere. -
Bad for whom exactly?
Pshkf smiled.
I
n the belly of another blue sphere, still travelling towards the city, Lbbp and Terra sat huddled together on the floor.
-
I’ve just figured it out.
-
What?
said Terra.
-
How you managed to get the proposal document open when it was supposed to be secret,
said Lbbp.
-
Good for you,
muttered Terra.
-
Your slate was connected to our home terminal. The Source opened the document because it thought it was me trying to look at it, not you. Since I’m one of the signatories, it . . .
-
Can you really be thinking about that at the moment?
asked Terra incredulously.
Lbbp looked around him. -
Well, what else am I going to think about?
he said miserably.
-
You! Mlmln! No talking!
barked the Drone Captain.
-
Or what?
snorted Lbbp.
Bad things might happen?
The Drone Captain bent down and hissed in Lbbp’s face.
-
I have orders to keep the little one alive. For you I have no such orders.
Lbbp fell silent. The sphere juddered on.
-
So where are we going?
asked Shnst and Thnst simultaneously.
-
Erm . . .
replied Vstj decisively. Then, realising how much he sounded like his old self, the self he didn’t want to be any more, he said, -
If we can get to the practical science laboratory, I may have an idea.
-
Practical science is through there,
said Pktk glumly, pointing at the rubble.
-
There’s bound to be another way through. This building is over six eras old, it’s full of passages, corridors and tunnels that everyone’s forgotten about,
said Vstj.
I don’t think anybody knows the complete layout.
Fthfth had an idea. -
Not yet they don’t. Come on, back to the lectorium!
-
But we just came from there!
protested Pktk.
-
TIME GROWS SHORT. IF YOU TRULY CARE FOR YOUR CHILDREN YOU WILL SEND THEM OUT TO US. OUR PATIENCE IS SPENT AND OUR VENGEANCE WILL BE SWIFT AND TERRIBLE. YOUR CHILDREN CAN LIVE UNDER OUR PROTECTION OR DIE UNDER YOURS. YOU WILL CHOOSE NOW.
-
What are you doing with that thing?
hissed Fskp. Pshkf and Bsht had cracked out Pshkf’s tools and were making adjustments to what looked to Fskp like some sort of antique cleaning device.
-
Almost done!
replied Pshkf.
-
We’re refocusing the drive’s displacement field,
said Bsht.
Instead of throwing the field around itself, it will throw it around something else.
-
I didn’t understand a word of that,
said Fskp,
will it annoy the G’grk?
-
Severely,
said Pshkf,
and it’s ready.
-
Let me do this bit,
said Bsht.
Slowly, she got to her feet, holding up both hands to show she was unarmed.
-
I’m coming to talk!
she shouted.
To everyone’s surprise, the sphere answered.
-
NO TALKING. THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT. THE CHILDREN. NOW.
-
The children are being gathered together. They will be brought to you in a moment. First, we offer this tribute to our new masters. Hail the G’grk!
She looked over her shoulder.
-
Hail the G’grk,
said Fskp, without even feigned enthusiasm.
Pshkf now walked to the crystal doors, carrying the infralight drive. It hummed gently.
Eight, seven,
thought Pshkf.
-
Please accept this tribute in the spirit in which it is given!
he shouted, with absolute sincerity. The drive hummed more loudly.
Five, four . . .
Pshkf walked slowly backwards.
Three, two, one . . .
-
NOW!
shouted Pshkf, diving behind the reception desk. Bsht did likewise.
There was a bright flash. The crystal doors shattered.
The sphere, enveloped in the displacement field, became massless. Its own gravity engines, which until that moment had been struggling to keep it off the ground, now repelled it away from the planet at almost the speed of energy. A few of the G’grk on board survived the trauma of the acceleration long enough to see the sphere, which was not built for extra-atmospheric travel, split apart in the pressureless vacuum of space. They hurtled out into the freezing void, giving thanks to The Occluded Ones for granting them such an interesting death.
-
We don’t have time for this!
said Pktk.
-
We don’t have time NOT to do it,
replied Fthfth crossly.
Now are you going to help me or not?
Fthfth had set up the Interface on Bsht’s desk. She was powering it up and adjusting the dome to her height.