D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

The gunner let loose. With his chair swiveling quickly to line himself up with the series of gun sights, he unleashed a torrent of missiles. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Instantly dados exploded before our eyes. It would have been a gruesome sight if they had been people. But they were machines. It was like shooting a dishwasher. A deadly dishwasher, but still, a dishwasher. I dug every second of it.

The gunner spun back and forth quickly, lining up his sights, using his left hand to alternate between the ten dual guns, blasting the dados into eternity. It was a beautiful thing. He was good. Then again, there were so many dados, he could have fired with his eyes closed and nailed one every time. Since the drivers of each skimmer stood to the front of their crafts, they were always the first hit. Once they were either knocked off their feet or blasted to bits, the skimmer would lie dead in the water while the other dados scrambled to take control. It caused a massive jam up. The skimmers piled into one another. The chain reaction kept growing until it was chaos on the water. Sweet.

“This war will be over before it starts,” the gunner shouted confidently as he kept firing.

The term “shooting fish in a barrel” sprang to mind. The gunner never missed. One shot meant one dead dado. Sometimes more. Soon the water was filled with floating dado parts.

Drea was overjoyed and clapped her hands, exclaiming, “We won’t even need the arrows!”

Alder wasn’t as confident. He watched the carnage with a scowl. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. The gunner was doing better than we could have hoped. He was destroying hundreds upon hundreds of dados. Unfortunately, there were thousands upon thousands of dados. We were only in the first quarter.

I grabbed one of the runners and shouted, “Get down to the first line of archers. Tell them to hold their fire until the dados step onto the beach.”

He nodded and ran off.

“What do you mean?” Drea asked in dismay. “It doesn’t look like they’ll get beyond the opening to the bay, let alone the beach.”

“They’ll turn back,” Genj said with confidence. “Now that they see how well we’re defended, they’ll cut their losses.”

“They won’t,” I said flatly.

“How can you know that?” Moman asked.

“They already knew about the guns,” I answered. “Why do you think they sent so many? They’re machines. They don’t care how many are destroyed. They’ll just keep coming until our ammunition runs out.”

The gunner continued his onslaught. The water was a debris field of destruction. Skimmers flew along with no drivers, smashing into other skimmers. The dados in the water couldn’t swim. If a missile didn’t kill them, the water did. Hundreds thrashed wildly before sinking. Many were hit by speeding skimmers, or from the next line of dados. It was a slaughter.

“I’m nearly done,” the gunner called out. “Keep firing!” Genj ordered.

The gunner didn’t miss a beat. He kept swiveling and spinning, changing his guns, destroying dados. I realized that he was using fewer and fewer of the guns. Soon, he shifted his firing between only four. Then three and two and finally one. With a last destructive burst, the guns fell silent.

“That’s it,” the gunner said, exhausted. He was covered with sweat and breathing hard.

Down below there was a logjam at the entrance to the bay. The dados from the rear couldn’t push past.

“This obstruction will not last long,” Alder observed.

He was right. Several skimmers left the rear ranks and zoomed around to either side of the bottleneck of dead skimmers and dados. Methodically they pushed the debris out of the way.

“They know what they’re doing,” Siry said. “They expected this.”

I didn’t know how many dados the gunner had gotten. Three hundred? Five hundred? Maybe a thousand? Who cared when there were thousands more out there with only a hundred yards of wreckage between them and the bay.

The tribunal realized that their brief moment of triumph was already a memory.

“It’s up to the archers,” Siry said.

There was nothing we could do but wait, and worry. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. It was a false calm. The storm would start again soon enough. Down below I saw the first line of archers tensing up. They knew what was coming. It was going to come down to numbers. If the tak-charged arrows could knock out enough dados, it might end the invasion. Looking out at the multiple lines of dados in skimmers, waiting for their pathway to clear, I didn’t like our chances.

“I’m no use up here,” the gunner said. “I’m going down to join my line.”

“You were incredible,” I told him.

“I’m proud of you,” Genj added. “We all are.”

The gunner nodded in thanks, and was gone.

The dados waited patiently on their skimmers for the path to be cleared. Those not clearing the debris had re-formed into tight groups that looked exactly wide enough to pass through the opening into the bay. They knew what they were doing all right. Still, there was no way they could know what waited for them in Rayne. They knew about the guns. They didn’t know about tak.

“This is it,” I declared.

The entrance to the bay was clear. The skimmers fired up and moved forward. The eye of the hurricane was on its way out.

“Wait,” I whispered. I wanted the first line of archers to do just that. My fear was that they’d start shooting too soon and the dados would scatter. We needed to draw as many as we could into the trap and maximize the destructive power of the tak arrows.

The dados were in no hurry. They moved slowly and in perfect formation into the bay. They looked more like conquering heroes, who had arrived to capture their spoils, than an invading army ready for battle.

“They think the battle is over,” Siry said hopefully. “They have no idea they’re about to hit a firestorm.”

The armada grew closer to the beach. I hoped the runner had gotten to the line with my message to wait. It had to be terrifying to be down there, watching the enemy get closer. But they had to be patient. The longer their nerves held out, the more dados would go down.

“They are doing it,” Alder declared. “They are waiting. We may have a chance.”

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.