Steph Bennion - Paw-Prints of the Gods

The white lightning of the plasma cannon erupted again and soon there was little left alive in the valley before them. The scanner showed the remaining spiders in retreat, leaving a clear circle amidst the red blobs with the transport at the centre. Ravana reached for the console and activated the communicator.

“Kedesh!” she cried. “We should make a run for it while we can!”

“Just one more!” Kedesh replied. The plasma flame burst forth once again.

The sound of footsteps scrabbled across the roof, followed by a reassuring clunk and hiss as the outer door closed and the airlock began to fill. Ravana’s hand was already slotting the gear lever into ‘drive’ and she did not wait for Kedesh to step out of the chamber before shoving the speed control lever forward. The transport clattered into life and was soon ploughing mercilessly though the dead and the dying, away through the valley. Kedesh stepped wearily into the cabin, her helmet and plasma cannon in her hands.

“Bit of a sticky wicket that one,” she said and collapsed onto a bunk. Her suit was splattered with blood and black slime. “I could murder a cup of tea.”

“You blew them up!” exclaimed Artorius. “Amazing!”

“Piece of cake,” Kedesh murmured. “Don’t touch that,” she warned, as Artorius slipped from his seat to look at the cannon at her side. “It gets incredibly hot.”

“Can I shoot some next time?”

“Next time?” muttered Ravana and shivered.

“You boys do like your big guns,” Kedesh observed. Ravana saw her looking at the congealed mass of sealant at the window. “I could have sworn one of the beasts was choking on a giant marshmallow. I take it you had to step up to the crease yourselves.”

“You seemed to have scared them off for now,” Ravana told her, glancing at the scanner screen. “The way ahead looks clear, though there’s a couple of kilometres to go before the valley flattens out enough for us to get back to the road.”

“Will they come back?” Artorius asked, sounding fearful.

“Let’s hope not. How far is the depot once we hit the road?”

“Five kilometres or so,” said Ravana. “The poor transport’s taken a battering, but has enough left in it to get us there within the hour.” The clunking from beneath had not gone away but did not seem to be getting any worse. She glanced over her shoulder to where Kedesh sat slumped upon the bunk. “That was very brave. You could have got killed.”

“Falsafah’s not a very friendly planet. Sometimes you have to stand your ground.”

“Thraak,” Nana said sadly. “Thraak thraak.”

“I agree,” said Kedesh. “Let’s hope there’s no more surprises like that one.”

High upon a nearby outcrop of rock, a small silver and black shape idly scratched an ear with a paw and watched the labouring transport trundle uneasily out of the valley. Events on Falsafah were unravelling somewhat differently to expectations, but when the players showed a bit of initiative it always made things more entertaining. In the end, the outcome mattered little, for it was all about the game.

The transport disappeared behind a dune. The watcher yawned, contemplated the slowly-thrashing tail wrapped around its feet, then in a flash of tabby fur was gone.

BELLONA LOWERED HERSELF into the offered couch and gave a nervous smile. This was the first time she had been invited to the private rooms at the church and did not know whether she ought to be honoured or terrified. The office at the back of the old bingo hall in Broad Street was well-appointed with patterned wallpaper, a large wall-mounted holovid screen and a suite of soft-sprung couches that must have been imported to Ascension at some expense, though the overall effect was tainted by a faint yet unpleasant coppery smell that lingered in the air. Yet even the surprise invitation and comfy furnishings paled into insignificance compared to what was on the table before her: a plate of chocolate biscuits, the first Bellona had seen in Newbrum for months.

In the chair opposite sat Selene, the girl from her class, who as usual was dressed entirely in black. She had fastened her purple tresses into an unfussy ponytail and dispensed with her customary floral crown, which she had earlier referred to as ‘ceremonial headgear’. Selene, with a cool and calm business-like attitude, had introduced herself as a junior member of the inner circle of the Dhusarian Church of Newbrum. The inner circle was interested in Bellona. No one had ever said that before.

“Would you like a biscuit?” asked Selene. There was a seductive tone to her voice; Bellona had heard gossip that the girl’s sultry and mysterious persona was a ploy to impress Captain Nyx, one of the Church’s rising stars. “Genuine chocolate, you know. The fellowship of the greys on Earth like to keep us supplied with innocent luxuries.”

Bellona smiled weakly and hesitantly took a biscuit from the plate.

Selene watched her carefully. “I expect you’re wondering why we asked you here.”

Her mouth full of biscuit, Bellona nodded. She wondered who Selene meant by ‘we’. The clocks of Newbrum had just gone nine o’clock in the morning and she had not seen another soul in the building since her arrival. There was a tradition that Dhusarians should gather as daylight faded and the stars began to appear, but the Church in Newbrum stuck to European Central Time, otherwise the slow rotation of Ascension would lead them to meet just once a week. Detractors on Earth believed the real reason for having evening services was because the average Dhusarian could not get out of bed in the morning.

“We were concerned by how rarely you accessed the Isa-Sastra on your slate,” Selene continued. “Others took this as evidence that your commitment was not true, but I told them you often read from an antique printed version of the sacred texts. I wondered if it was a family heirloom, that perhaps you had a past association with the Church?”

Bellona hesitated, startled that the inner circle was evidently monitoring what they read. She subconsciously touched a hand to her hip to feel the reassuring lump of the book in the pocket of her faded flight suit. Aware of Selene’s curious stare, Bellona slowly withdrew the paper-leafed book. The girl’s eyes widened at the sight of the volume with its worn grey cover, inscribed with the legend Isa-Sastra .

“It belonged to a man called Fenris,” Bellona said slowly. “I think he once worked for Taranis. His book came to me after he died.” She decided not to mention that she had more or less stolen the book from amongst Fenris’ abandoned possessions.

“Priest Taranis!” Selene declared proudly. “Did you know him?”

Bellona shook her head. “He was…”

“An inspiration to us all!” Selene declared. Her completion of the unfinished sentence was nothing like what Bellona intended to say. “The father of Dhusarism! He who led us from the shadows so that we may bask beneath the wisdom of the stars!”

“Some people blame Taranis for the civil war on Yuanshi,” Bellona said cautiously. Much of what she knew of the priest was from what she had heard both on and off the stage at the peace conference on Daode. “The Que Qiao governor called us a dangerous cult.”

“Here on Ascension, many in the corporation support our work,” Selene reassured her. “I heard you are friends with Ravana O’Brien, Zotz Wak and the others who were there when Taranis and his disciples were committed to the void. Is this true?”

Bellona frowned. Selene seemed to know a lot more about what happened than she did. At the time, despite the kidnapping scandal being big news, the footnote regarding their ill-fated encounter with Taranis on the Dandridge Cole had generated barely a flicker of interest. The local Dhusarian Church would have seen things differently, of course.