Philip Palmer - Hell Ship

And now we had descended to the planet for hand to hand combat with the last stragglers on the planet; no more than two or three thousand of them, we estimated.

And we were losing. The tusked bipeds used ambush and deceit against us; they built pits and covered them with grass; they put bombs in their own people so when a Kindred warrior struck an enemy warrior with his sword, the resulting blast was deadly to both.

And their metal machines were unbeatable. I stabbed them with my quills, I smashed them with my tentacles, but they could not be hurt. And every time they burned me with fire, my inner shell got weaker.

And then another landing craft descended from the sky, and twelve warriors stepped out. They were bipeds, roughly the same height as Sharrock, and dressed in long red robes; dignified and graceful but with blackened old faces that looked like skulls; their beauty turned to eerie age.

One of them fired a projectile gun without aiming; and a hundred or more tiny missiles flew through the air and unerringly targeted the metal monsters we had been fighting.

The missiles cut through metal effortlessly; moments later nearly a hundred blinding flashes dazzled us; and when our vision returned, the monsters were ash.

One of the robed bipeds laughed; a sound of joy that chilled me. See me, Sai-ias, said the voice in my head, and the laughing biped turned to look at me, and I looked back. And I realised that it was him; my Ka’un; the one who lived in my mind.

“Come, and fight!” shouted another robed Ka’un, to the tusker army. “If you can defeat us, you may have your planet.” And he drew a sword and held it aloft; the universal sign for a challenge to combat.

By now only a handful of the tusked bipeds were left; five hundred or so was my guess. And most of them were not in plain sight; they were hidden in the alleys and houses of this city, from where they had launched their skilful ambushes. But one by one they all emerged, to face this new enemy. For they clearly knew this was something different.

Now they were fighting their real enemy: the Ka’un.

I realised that I was paralysed; only my eyes could move, not my limbs or head. My Ka’un was focusing on his own body, and had immobilised me.

The five hundred or so tuskers formed a disciplined semicircle, facing the twelve Ka’un. They wore tunics of hide and metal, and they carried projectile guns in their hands and swords and axes in their scabbards. They were clearly seasoned fighters.

One of the tuskers screamed an insult at the Ka’un; it was evidently an invitation to fight and die. And even though I could not comprehend it, there was a musicality to the creature’s sounds that made me think the words were beautifully expressed.

And my Ka’un responded to the challenge by stepping forward; and then he bowed his head, in a gesture of respect.

Five hundred or more guns were raised and all shot of them at my Ka’un.

The speed of it all was bewildering; the bullets fired, my Ka’un leaped to one side, and the other Ka’un dodged and ducked as the hail of bullets flew at them. Then my Ka’un got back to his feet.

There was blood upon his chest; a hole in his skull. He had dodged most of the bullets, but not all. Yet he had survived. And my Ka’un laughed again.

Half the tuskers reloaded their guns; the other half charged with swords and axes raised. My Ka’un was undaunted, and did not deign to draw his sword; his eleven comrades stood in readiness, but also did not attempt to draw their weapons.

And then a spark of fire shot from my Ka’un’s arm and hit the front rank of charging tuskers. They fell, screaming and ablaze. The other Ka’un ran towards the tuskers, flames leaping from their arms like lightning that streaks across the sky, and more tuskers burned.

Then a second fusillade of bullets was fired, and some of the Ka’un fell. My Ka’un had lost the use of one arm; but still he spat flame from the fingers of the other arm; the air was acrid with fumes. The burning tuskers did not scream as they died, and no one had time to attempt to extinguish the flames of their stricken comrades. All were focused on killing the Ka’un.

One tusker got far enough to lop the head off a Ka’un’s shoulders; and then my Ka’un struck him with a powerful fist, splintering a tusk. But the tusker absorbed the blow and swung his sword again but my Ka’un leaped high in the air, dodging the blade, and landed with feet kicking brutally and the tusker’s skull was crushed, and he fell down dead.

My Ka’un roared with joy; and for one moment I could see through his eyes. Two more tuskers were rushing at him/me with swords, enveloped with flame but fearless; and I/my Ka’un seized a tusker sword from the ground and engaged them in savage swordplay. Steel clashed against steel; my Ka’un was deft and fast and graceful, but the tuskers were numerous and highly skilled. I felt, as my Ka’un felt, a surge of panic at the thought that I would now die, irrevocably.

But a moment later I/my Ka’un had recovered my/our poise and my/his sword bit flesh and the scores of attacking tuskers were dead-hacked apart then eviscerated. How does that feel, Sai-ias? my Ka’un asked in my head.

The battle was over; the ground was damp with blood. The Ka’un retreated to their ship, dragging their dead and wounded, but my Ka’un remained; staring at my body; thinking his thoughts in my head. This was a joyful battle; too often we hide in our ship and miss the true glory of war.

Are your dead warriors… truly dead? I thought at him. Oh yes. There is no resurrection for us; only for you, our children. But the difference is: we welcome death.

Why do you do this? What pleasure can you take in all this carnage? I thought. Do not pretend, Sai-ias; for you enjoyed it too.

With a creeping sensation of horror, I realised he was right; I had savoured the glory of this day! And I hated myself for it.

Who are you? I thought.

I am Minos, I am both artist and warrior; and I am captain of the vessel we call the Blessed Farol; which you know as the Hell Ship.

From that moment on, Minos was constantly in my thoughts. Do not judge us harshly, he said to me that first night. For we were wronged. Our universe was destroyed, by brutal creatures who cared nothing about the goodness of our kind; and thus we were forced to become wanderers through the dimensions. We are victims; and you should pity us.

Stop this now! I thought at him. Let us all be free; and stop the killing. You are deranged. What pleasure can you take in massacring so many?

We do not do it to take pleasure.

Then why do it? I thought. We only fight when we are provoked! Oh how could you think so badly of us, Sai-ias?

I was shaken by his words; the evident sincerity of his tone. Yet I knew that some creatures could lie as easily as they breathed; and I suspected that Minos was one such.

For we have only one goal, Minos continued: to spread the word of peace and love through all the realities. But each and every time we attempt to seed friendship and concord, we are confronted by belligerence and rage and contempt. And so-in self-defence-we have killed very many species of sentient alien species. But only for the noblest of reasons! And only, as I say, in self defence.

You can’t believe those lies! I raged mentally.

I do believe them.

You have killed millions of innocent creatures, you evil one!

Only because they proved unworthy.

I realised that he truly wanted me to believe him; and I marvelled at the pettiness of this creature, in thus trying to win the affection and respect of his own slave.

The following day I remembered the words of Minos when I woke.

All around me, my fellow giant sentients were lost in dreamless sleep. I alone was awake. But something was different. I felt-I felt And then I rose up and walked.