John Brosnan - The Sky Lords

“Careful with that thing, you idiot!” warned Milo tersely.

“Milo! Thank the Mother God. …” Jan lowered the sword as relief flooded through her. “I thought you’d abandoned me.”

He stepped close to her. She could just make out his shape in the darkness. “I did,” he told her.

“You did?” she asked, surprised. “But you came back. …”

“Don’t ask me why,” he said coldly. “I don’t know myself. Just don’t make me regret my decision.”

Another cough from the big cat. Very close now. “Milo …?”

“Yes, I can see it. A tiger. Sabre-tooth. Big. About twenty yards away.” He lowered his voice. “It’s just spotted us. Gone into a crouch. We’re down-wind of it, so it hadn’t got our scent.

Jan was irrationally relieved that the big cat wasn’t a panther, even though she was well aware that a sabre-tooth was even more deadly. Then she heard Milo moving away from her. “Where are you going?” she asked anxiously.

“Nowhere,” he answered softly. “Just a few yards in front of you. I’m now standing with my back to the cat.” She heard him slowly draw one of his swords.

“But why have you got your back to the tiger?” she asked, alarmed. “You won’t be able to see him coming.”

“Be quiet!” Milo ordered.

She obeyed. All was silent at first and then she heard a slight sound of movement. In her mind’s eye she could see the sabre-tooth coming through the sound-absorbing fungus. Any moment now and he would be in range to spring. She tensed, ready to run. Then came a swishing sound followed by a loud thunk . She heard something heavy landing in the fungus very nearby. A powerful animal smell washed over her. “Milo …?”

“I’m still here. But the cat isn’t.”

“What happened?”

“I beheaded it.”

“But how did you know when to strike? You had your back to it.”

“I can hear just as well as I can see in the dark. Audio enhancement. That poor pussycat made as much noise coming though that fungoid mush as a cyberoid falling down a staircase. Now come on, let’s go and find you some shelter. No use trying to cover any distance to the city tonight. You’d probably blunder into a whip tree.” She felt him grasp her wrist and allowed herself to be led through the impenetrable blackness. Progress, however, was difficult, thanks to the fungus. It was like trying to wade through a lake of viscous liquid and very soon Jan’s legs were aching. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m looking for a suitable tree,” he told her. “Most around here are dead and rotten thanks to the fungus.”

She remembered his comment about blundering into a whip tree and said nervously. “Can you see well enough in the dark to spot a whip tree?”

“Let’s hope so,” he said and chuckled.

Jan didn’t find it amusing. Whip trees were notoriously deceptive. They mimicked other species of trees so closely that it was impossible to tell them apart; that is, until the whip-like tendrils cracked through the air towards the unfortunate victim, who was then dragged by them towards the trunk, where giant thorns were already emerging to impale him and slowly absorb all the fluid from his body. “Where did whip trees come from?” she asked Milo.

“Like so many other things out here in the blight they were created by genegineers.”

“But why ? Why would anyone deliberately create anything so horrible?”

Milo laughed and said, “The Mother God created man, didn’t she?”

“You don’t believe in the Mother God, I know. You’re making fun of me.”

“True. But to answer your question, the whip trees were created by genegineers working for a very rich man called Planus. He wanted a novel way of dissuading trespassers from entering his extensive estates. The whip trees aren’t really trees. They’re a hybrid of animal and vegetable. Neither one nor the other.” He paused then added, “Like me.”

“Like you?” she asked, puzzled.

“Yes. Neither one thing nor the other.” There was bitterness in his voice. “Someone once told me that a long time ago. I didn’t believe her. But what the hell, I survive, and that’s what counts. That’s what everything is all about.”

Not understanding what he was talking about Jan didn’t answer. He continued and she realized he was talking more to himself than her. “Survival. The reason for everything, yet it remains the basic mystery. Why should complicated molecules have developed the ability to replicate? Is it the automatic outcome of natural chemical processes? The automatic outcome of matter’s innate, chemical desire to persist in a form that is mathematically harmonious …?” Milo suddenly tightened his grip on her arm. “Look!”

“Look where?” She asked nervously. “You know I can’t see anything.”

“Upwards, you fool. Look at the sky.”

She did so, and saw a cluster of lights moving overhead. “The Lord Pangloth !” she gasped.

“Or the Perfumed Breeze . Obviously the warlord is not giving up so easily. He must have his heart set on getting a shiny, new Sky Angel.”

As they stared upwards a beam of intense, white light suddenly stabbed downwards from the dark mass of the airship. It touched the ground about a hundred yards in front of them, illuminating the ghostly outlines of fungus draped trees and huge, freestanding fungoid growths. Then the beam of light began to track back and forth. “Quickly, this way,” urged Milo, leading Jan towards a nearby fungus that resembled a giant mushroom. They crouched down under its drooping cap. The beam was sweeping in their direction now. “Keep still … don’t move a muscle,” he told her.

Jan had every intention of remaining perfectly still … until a cold and slimy thing dropped on to the back of her neck. She gave a cry of alarm and turned to see a thick, white worm crawling over her shoulder. When she felt another one drop on her neck she screamed and stood up. “No …” warned Milo, but it was too late. The impact made the cap of the mushroom explode into powdery fragments, leaving them exposed to the fast-approaching beam of light.

“Stupid bitch!” snarled Milo as he reached up and pulled her down beside him. “Lie flat!”

But then Jan saw that the ground was now covered with large, writhing worms. They had apparently been inside the mushroom’s cap, feeding on it, probably. “Oh, Mother God …” she groaned and tried to stand again but Milo pushed her face-down on to the pulpy ground. “Be still or I’ll kill you,” he hissed … She could feel the worms writhing under her as they were crushed by her weight. Bile rose up in the back of her throat. …

The beam of light was coming through the trees straight towards them. They had no chance. And then, when it was less than fifty feet away, there was a harsh cry and suddenly something on two legs was illuminated by the beam. Nothing human, Jan saw, but one of the reptiles that walked upright on its hind legs. A small one.

Screeching with alarm, the reptile took flight and the beam followed it, or tried to as the creature sped off through the distorted scenery of the blight land. Gradually the beam faded in the distance. So too did the whine of the airship’s thrusters, and Jan was in total darkness again. It was only then that Milo spoke. “I should leave you here for that,” he said, his voice cold and flat.

She felt ashamed. “I’m sorry, Milo. I acted like a child.”

“No. You acted like a stupid woman.”

Anger flared up in Jan but she bit back her words of protest. She had no right to defend herself. She had behaved stupidly. Finally she said, haltingly, “Well, are you going to leave me?”