Philip Palmer - Hell Ship

There were however several terrible obstacles in our way; I carefully marked them off in my mind.

Firstly, the Ka’un could shut off our air. If we suffocated, how could we fight?

The answer was simple; for I knew that Sai-ias could survive for very long periods without air.

So, once we broke through into the outer hull, via the Tower gateway, we would all charge inside and fight desperately and savagely; while Sai-ias would take the rear.

Then, once the air was cut off, we would all die-the giant sentients, the aerials, the arboreals, the serpentines, all of us; but before we died, we would wreak as much damage as we could.

And then Sai-ias would follow behind; and she and she alone would finish the war, clambering over our corpses to do so. We all knew her phenomenal fighting power; she was the only weapon we truly needed.

And our own deaths were, we all felt, a small price to pay for victory.

A second problem remained however; for we knew that the Ka’un could control us through the paklas in our brain. They could turn a switch and send us into dreamless sleep; and then all of us, including Sai-ias, would be wretchedly and easily defeated.

I wrestled hard with this problem; and in the days after showing Djamrock’s brain to the others, I consulted with Quipu ceaselessly in the hope he might find a subtle scientific solution. Yet he had none; so I chose to embark upon my wildest gamble yet.

And now my course was clear. First I had to free my people from the mind-control of the Ka’un, by the most brutal means possible.

And then I had to lead them to victory; and their inevitable doom.

I kneeled in the clearing with Fray and Quipu and Sai-ias, while our whole army encircled us. Quipu held the knife in his delicate hands. And he pressed it to my forehead. And he dug the knife in, until it penetrated the bone.

Then he carved a circle of blood around my skull. And pressed harder, until knife dug into bone, all the way around my forehead.

Quipu then carefully lifted the skull cap away from my head, until the brain beneath was bared.

“What can you see?” I asked.

“Brain,” said Quipu One snappily. “Precious little of it, it’s a miracle you can-”

“Look for the crystal!” I said angrily. I felt naked and vulnerable with my brain bare to the world; and only the paklas in my bloodstream were saving me from shock, trauma, and sudden death.

“I see it,” said Quipu Two.

“Then take it out,” I said.

Quipu’s sharp blade gouged deep into the tissues of my brain and I recoiled in horror; surely this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me!

But I endured it; and a few moments later I was looking at the bloody crystal in Quipu’s hand.

“Water,” I said.

Sai-ias sprinkled the healing water from the well of life over my exposed brain.

Quipu spoke; but I could not understand his words.

The others joined in; it was a babble of discordant sounds.

My pakla could no longer translate! And the theory was proved.

Then Quipu slipped the skull back into place. Sai-ias splashed more water on the join, and wrapped a bandage around my head. I felt somewhat dizzy; but I was confident none of them knew my species well enough to read the panic in my eyes.

I spoke: “Can you understand me?”

Another babble of sound. They could understand me, but I could not understand them.

And so it began; the cutting of brains.

Within hours the clearing was a pool of blood. The brain-tainted crystals were piled high. And as each of my fellow slaves lost their crystal, they lost the ability to understand each other. The clearing became a babble of competing noises, with no meanings.

Then Sai-ias extruded her brain out of her skull carapace for the operation to be performed. I held the knife.

Sai-ias

I was among the last to have my brain cut open; I was dreading it terribly.

But before the blade touched my extruded brain, Sharrock paused and dropped the knife to his side. For the sky had darkened; and we turned and looked, and saw two huge creatures came beating a path out of the blue sky.

Cuzco.

And Djamrock.

Both back from the dead.

I howled, in horror and dismay, and my brain shrank back into my skull, still uncut.

Sharrock backed away, still holding the knife. And Cuzco swooped down towards us low and fast, and his neck and skull orifices blazed fire; and Sharrock’s body was engulfed in flames. I tried to spit web on my burning friend, to put out the fire; but my mouth was dry. I could not spit.

But Sharrock rolled wildly on the grass; and Fray pissed upon him; and his charred body stood and he was ready for combat once again.

And all around me, the fighting commenced.

Imagine a battle like nothing you can imagine.

Thousands of us fought against two; but Cuzco and Djamrock were the mightiest of giants, and could fly. The aerials were helpless against them; the grazers were burned casually as they fled; the giant sentients like Fray were powerless to fight, for Djamrock and Cuzco could plunge down and rip pieces out of their hide before they could bite or butt. The larger aerials fared better; but they were puny by comparison to these, the greatest of the giant sentients possessed of the power of flight.

Quipu’s body was ripped from top to toe within the first few minutes of this ghastly massacre, though his wounds were not fatal. Lirilla loyally attacked and died an early death. Sharrock fought bravely with sword and fists though his skin was burned and charred; but his power was nothing against these two brutes.

Miaris, a giant sentient almost as large as Djamrock, stood on his hind legs, and hurled powerful blows at the two flying monsters. His fists were like cliffs; his skin was as tough as granite; his jaws could chew through metal. But Djamrock dropped upon him from above, and gouged open his skull, and ripped apart his body; and spat acid upon him. And Miaris roared, and fell.

The battle raged; the arboreals fought and died, as did the aerials, as did the giant sentients. No one could withstand this double assault by the flying giants of our world; and the grass was red with blood and gore now, and screams became a wearily familiar background noise.

So the battle fell to me; I alone could fight against such huge flying beasts; and I had, after all, bested Cuzco once before.

And ever since I have wondered: could I have defeated them? Was it in my power to best two of the greatest monsters on board the ship?

I will never know; for throughout the whole conflict, I could not move. I stood, betrayingly, like a statue, observing helplessly as the battle played out. Sharrock screamed at me to help; but I could not.

I was, I realised, under the control of the Ka’un; there was a pakla still inside me. I fought its power; I wrestled for freedom. I poured every particle of my soul into this one desperate goal: to move, and fight, and kill.

And eventually I succeeded! I was able to stir my paralysed limbs; and I moved; and I seized Sharrock in my long tentacle; and I squeezed him to death.

And then I fell asleep; a deep dreamless sleep.

And when I woke, the corpses were all gone. The grasses grew high, with no trace of the blood that had stained them, or the body parts that had been so carelessly strewn. The piles of paklas had vanished; there was nothing at all to indicate a terrible battle had taken place at this spot.

Some months had passed, I deduced; and the world had returned to normal; and was populated once more by my comrades. Fray, Lirilla, Miaris, I saw them all, going about their business, and they saw me. They were all magically restored to life, with no trace of their appalling and fatal injuries.

Whilst Cuzco and Djamrock patrolled the skies above, proud and arrogant and unassailable.