The Karasor Page 12

  Narikin looked down at the surface of the water. It was more agitated than the ocean on Pentī Prime; greys and greens rather than the azure blue he was used to. He could see waves crashing violently onto stony beaches in a way they never did on his world. With its five moons in perfect symmetry, the great ocean never moved and gyrated like this. What if they ditched suddenly and the shield failed? Was it possible to survive in that maelstrom?

  “Here,” said Jamadar.

  They turned a corner and entered a fjord, its walls rising above them, taller than anything Narikin had ever seen before. The emptiness of space had not felt as threatening as these barren cliffs. And yet there was beauty too in the rich texture of the rock and the way the trees clung to the steep sides. They reminded him of his bonsai back home.

  They travelled along the fjord for several miles and then suddenly they dipped under the water. Narikin’s grip on the arms of his seat tightened.

  “What are you doing?” he squeaked.

  “Don’t worry; we’re entering the base through the back door.”

  The light turned from grey to green and then grew darker as they plunged deeper. They slowed right down. Narikin spotted fish in the water, pieces of plant and other small particles. He watched the detritus pass around them and tried not to imagine what might happen if the shield failed. Would their boat turn into a tiny submarine or be crushed into a tube-shaped coffin?

  “Time for a little light,” said the War Master.

  Powerful beams pierced through the gloom, one from the nose of the fuselage and two more from the out-riders. They seemed to make little difference but then they saw another light ahead. “There it is,” he said. He turned the boat and their lights illuminated the wall of the fjord and a red light winking above the entrance to a tunnel. They entered, almost scraping the walls beside them, and travelled along at a walking pace, rising gradually until they broke the surface of the water a hundred feet later.

  They were in a dimly-lit cave. Waiting for them were three warriors, heavily armed, standing on a partially submerged quayside. Jamadar brought the scout out of the water and landed it gently on the uneven rocks. One of the warriors climbed onto the wing to open the canopy.

  “Welcome back,” he said to Jamadar, his voice muffled by his breathing mask.

  “And you, Quassin. This is Prince Narikin. Narikin – this is our famous Sword Master, in charge of the warriors on the Kyzyl Kum.”

  When the Sword Master took his helmet off, Narikin recognised the three scars down the right-side of his head; the wounds he’d received from the claws of an Azaroth lion.

  Quassin bowed, said, “Welcome to Awa, Prince Narikin.”

  Narikin managed to squeak a quick ‘thank you’ and then unbuckled the belts. He dragged his ditty-bag up to his chest. Quassin put his hand down to take it from him and stood back to let him climb out of the cockpit.

  Jamadar was already on the quay. “Did the equipment arrive safely?”

  “It did,” Quassin replied.

  “What equipment?” Narikin asked.

  “We had your workshop dismantled and brought here.” “Quartermaster Pelike has converted a storeroom behind your cabin,” said Quassin. “He has managed to provide a water supply and plumbed in a sink; we hope it will be adequate. There is some new equipment too.”

  Narikin didn’t know what to say except another quick ‘thank you’.

  Quassin shrugged, “I have no idea what any of it is for. But Kruvak believes it will help our cause so you are welcome.”

  Narikin stepped down onto the quay. It was the first natural ground he had stood on since leaving Kuchī and it felt strange. He looked around the cave. It was damp and the rock was slippery with algae. There was a round gun-port in the wall and a wide tunnel beside it; a shallow slope leading upwards to where he could hear noises coming from another cavern beyond.

  “Come,” said Jamadar. “There will not be time for a proper introduction ceremony but I’m sure you won’t mind that. There will be time for a bath and some food later. Hopefully, Chef Huldi has enough to make a proper meal to celebrate your arrival.”

  Narikin asked, “Are we leaving again?”

  “As soon as possible,” said Quassin. “We don’t know how soon a Taira ship might get here; we have bought supplies from the Qomal and you never know who might have been watching – their spies are everywhere.” He carried Narikin’s ditty-bag for him and led the way out of the cave.

  It was a short walk to the main cavern. It was bright with arc-lights on long poles, focussed on a circle of concrete in the centre where the Kyzyl Kum stood, the most famous of all the ranger ships.

  Narikin could see how scarred the ship had become. He had thought Subarsi’s Kara Kum had looked battered and old but the Kyzyl Kum was worse. Under the bright lights, he could see patches and make-shift repairs. There were scorch marks around every turret and gun. Her paint was peeling and rust seemed to run from every rivet and joint. And yet she seemed to have retained her nobility.

  Narikin thought she looked beautiful. Her long wings were stretched out over the crew working on the ground below. Her three hulls seemed balanced, proportional, in perfect symmetry; the superstructure was low and sleek, unlike the ungainly blocks of the destroyer or the great cliffs of the flagship.

  “What are you thinking?” Jamadar asked him.

  “I feel proud,” Narikin replied. “I never thought I would have the opportunity to see her let alone serve on board.”

  “She will be your home for however long you’re with us,” he smiled.

  There were three deep pits for her keels so the hulls were almost level with the ground. People were running up ramps, pushing carts or carrying loads from stacks around the edge of the concrete.

  Narikin was surprised to see a human with a grey beard run across to greet them. He was small and wiry and his shirt was yellow with age.

  “This is Pall,” said Jamadar. “The captain’s steward; he will help you adjust to life on board.”

  His eyes looked strange; they were a funny shape and too close together. They were also blue and not purple. His teeth had pointed canines like a lion instead of just molars and incisors. But he gave Narikin a little nod, “Whatever you need to know,” he said, smiling, “Just ask me.”

  They walked across the apron of concrete until they were under the stern. Narikin noticed more humans working beside his people. They had blond or brown hair and their eyes were just as strange as the steward’s. He also noticed nobody was wearing the standard uniform; shirts, jackets and trousers came in every colour and style. There were hats too and long boots as well as shoes. Dressed in the formal uniform of an ensign, he felt self-conscious and out-of-place.

  “Take our new recruit to the captain,” Jamadar told Pall. “I’m going to check the repairs to the bomb-bay doors.”

  Rather than take the stairs and try and squeeze their way through the crowded corridors, Pall commandeered a small boat to lift them up to the top deck.

  They walked along the side, past the glasshouse that was the shrine to the fallen heroes, with its plants and prayer mats, past the armoured walls of the communications centre and the cabins of the senior officers, until they reached an open door in the side of the wardroom.

  Kruvak was inside, sipping tea from a bowl. He looked up and smiled. “Welcome to the Kyzyl Kum, cousin.”

  12 – Kyzyl Kum

  “Thank you for having me, cousin,” Narikin replied, “I mean, Captain...”

  “I think I like ‘cousin’ better,” he smiled. “Did you know you’re the first member of our family to join us on my ship...?”

  “I did,” he admitted.

  “Come and have some tea...”

  “I have some letters for you,” Narikin said, putting them on the table.

  The wardroom was cramped but cosy. Not only did a large table fill most of the room but the walls were covered in shelves, pictures and pieces of nautical memorabilia collected from their tr
avels. He spotted a binnacle from an Enoth cruiser and the tattered remains of a flag that had once flown from the mast of Zarktek ship. There were books too, some written in the Tun language and others he didn’t recognise.

  “I didn’t know humans served on your ship,” he said.

  “It’s another reason the other clans despise me; they don’t believe the races should mix. But I don’t agree - humans are excellent fighters and loyal to a fault. Is this a problem for you?”

  “I have never seen a human before; I don’t know what they’re like.”

  “I’m afraid they won’t show much respect for your title. Most are from the old Tun Republic, where the Xramarian Empire is now, and royalty is anathema to them.”

  “I won’t mind that – I was never very good at being a prince.”

  Kruvak laughed, “No, me neither.” He poured Narikin a bowl of tea and began to open the letters. “I see Subarsi has written a letter of commendation for you...”

  “Oh dear - has he really?”

  Kruvak read it through quickly. “That’s a surprise,” he said, putting it down again.

  “What...?”

  “He says you’re proficient in martial arts and his Sword Master had nothing to teach you. He says you were taught by Captain Haku...?”

  “Not strictly true: I was taught dancing by his daughter, Amah, but it turns out I was learning the moves for martial arts instead.”

  Kruvak laughed, “Still, an unexpected bonus.” He put the letter down. “He speaks highly of you and that’s what matters. But it’s your ability to use a camera that’s going to be invaluable to us. Did Jamadar tell you we had your workshop dismantled and sent here?”

  “Quassin did...”

  “The Kyzyl Bulak brought it while you were training.”

  “Nobody said anything in their letters.”

  “It’s meant to be a secret. I don’t want the Taira to know we have a photographer until your pictures are sitting in front of them.”

  “Why not?”

  “The less evidence we can present, the easier it will be for them to convince Emperor Mizuiro to withdraw from the Third Sphere. We’re in enough trouble as it is without the Taira trying to get rid of our new asset as well.”

  “Trouble...?”

  “We’ve lost our allies in the Xramarian Empire. The fish are at war with each other and we won’t be able to use any of our secret bases in the west. Even if your father allowed us to go to Variola, we would have nowhere to retreat to if the Rickobites came after us. Then there’s the problem with supplies; the Qomal and Ishan are being pressured by the Taira to stop supplying us with food and ammunition. We managed to find a farmer prepared to sell us some of his stock but it wasn’t enough. And don’t get me started on the plumbing situation...”

  Narikin decided to keep quiet about his father’s desire for a new heir. Apart from the logic of his suspicion, he didn’t have any real evidence and it was obvious his cousin had enough to worry about.

  Kruvak asked him, “Was the Kyzyl Mazhalyk stopped and searched in the Clundleby system?”

  Narikin nodded, “One of the machines came to my cabin. I thought it was rather beautiful until it started accusing me of stealing my camera.

  “How long were they on board?”

  “I’m not sure; at least an hour...”

  “What was Uigur’s reaction?”

  “I don’t know; I never spoke to him.”

  Kruvak frowned, “Why not?”

  “I was locked in a cabin while I was on board.”

  His cousin sat back, “Like a prisoner...?”

  Narikin nodded, “He refused to see me.”

  Clouds gathered on his cousin’s brow, “Did you meet any of the senior officers?”

  Narikin shook his head, “Just Uigur’s steward, Namaqua. I was disappointed not to see more of the Travira Dansaii...”

  He saw Kruvak’s anger and stopped wittering, sipped his tea and sat quietly until his cousin was ready to speak.

  Kruvak shook head, “He shames us all.”

  “Jamadar said as much.”

  “I suppose punishing you was his way of getting back at your father without insulting him directly.”

  “Why would he want to do that?”

  “Uigur believes he never had the credit he deserved for his actions during the Hundred Year War. He thinks the losses on Bastion were unfairly blamed on him and when he was ordered to help the defence of Marlag, it was his perception that he was being demoted.”

  “But that’s so long ago...”

  “He has a long memory. Besides, he also believes we should have held onto our northern territories after the war and restored them to our control rather than leave them to the Rickobites. He thinks we should be doing our utmost to get them back. Impossible of course; we had no ships to defend them then and even fewer now. But Uigur would challenge the Lords themselves to see us return to the old days.”

  “Then he’s mad,” Narikin concluded.

  “And dangerous; if the situation wasn’t bad enough, with new enemies facing us across the border and the Taira at our backs, we’ve got fools like Uigur amongst us too.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Kruvak shrugged, “There’s nothing much I can do until I can prove where the greatest threat is coming from.”

  “Tenrec...?”

  His cousin nodded, “Tenrec. It was a peaceful planet; we used to trade with them regularly until the Rickobites took over the region. If there is an army there, I pity the poor farmers who’ll have to feed them.”

  “What kind of army...?”

  “That’s the question, cousin. If it’s an army of human or quasi-human mercenaries, we can sleep safe in our beds. Even in our degraded state, Pentī warriors will always be able to defend the colonies from their kind.”

  “But you don’t think it is, do you?”

  “No - last year, I saw a new breed of warrior insects on a Podagran trading ship. It was like a mantis, with big eyes and fearsome claws. It was smaller than a myrmec but more intelligent and stronger than a lycosa. The rumour was they killed the human crew and used them as food. I was told they came from Tenrec.”

  “The human you brought to the Takla Makan...”

  Kruvak nodded, “Unfortunately, the Taira didn’t believe him and the Podagran was ship was lost. But I have faith in his story and I believe these ‘mantids’ as he called them did originate on Tenrec.”

  Narikin only had a vague idea of what a mantis looked like. He had seen pictures of the fire-ants of Myrmec and the giant spiders of Lycosa and knew the history of how devastating they had been during the battles of the Hundred Year War. If there was a new kind of weapon with more speed and the ability to breed in vast numbers like other insects, he definitely didn’t want to meet them.

  “What will you do if you find thousands on the planet?”

  “I’ll fire the last of our nuclear torpedoes. But we need to gather evidence first. The human said the Podagran ship had already off-loaded thousands of eggs in the Variola system. We need to know if that was all of them or if there are more being bred on Tenrec. This close to our border, I really hope we don’t find anything.”

  “Are we going to try and fight our way past the Rickobite ships?”

  “Not if we don’t have to – I’m going to try and use a scout instead. And I’ll need you to come with me. If you can take pictures of these giant insects, we can persuade the Emperor and the other clans of the danger to the colonies and stop the Taira from abandoning the Third Sphere.”

  “No pressure then,” Narikin gulped.

  Kruvak smiled, “Come and see what we’ve done with your cabin – I think you’ll be pleased.”

  He led the way from the wardroom and along the short corridor to the stairs, one way leading up to the bridge and the other down to the junior officers’ quarters.

  Narikin’s name was already on the door of his cabin. The room was small but another door had been made t
hrough the back wall into a storage room, with a heavy, light-proof curtain in between. Narikin saw his ditty-bag on the single bunk and he put his camera and the tantō-blade beside it.

  In the storage room, he found a table with his old enlarger next to a new one. There were several crates with bottles of chemicals surrounded in straw on the deck with boxes of paper supplies beside them. He recognised his tools in another box and felt a brief moment of nostalgia for the better parts of the life he had left behind. His drying line was hanging across the room and his red light, for when he was developing, dangled from a hook on the low ceiling. His trays and tongs were by the new sink against the bulkhead wall. His case of lenses was on a shelf.

  To be surrounded by his things was more than he could have wished for and it took a huge effort not to burst into tears, especially when he saw a little note from Chikutei hoping he had packed them all correctly.

  Kruvak asked him, “Do you have everything you need?”

  “I think so.”

  Then he noticed the ventilator conduit running along the ceiling. “Does this connect with the other cabins?” he asked. “The fumes can be quite over-whelming. When I began my hobby, I used a room inside the palace but there were complaints from the rest of the family. I had to move to an old potting shed. If this conduit is linked to the other cabins on this deck, I’m afraid the smell will be unpleasant for everyone.”

  “I’ll speak to Quartermaster Pelike and see if we can give you a separate system.”

  “Other than that, the room is perfect. I must thank the quartermaster for taking so much care.”

  “You can tell him later. Right now, it’s time you met the rest of the bridge crew.”

  Kruvak led the way back to the stairs and up to the bridge deck. Narikin could hear half a dozen voices chatting to each other. They stopped when their captain appeared.

  Kruvak introduced them quickly: in charge of the radar was Bysen, the young pilot was called Querl, and the radio operator was called Nokodo. In the opposite corner, down at the front, Lieutenant Durgah was sifting through his maps, ready to navigate them to Tenrec. There were three junior officers assisting the others but Narikin didn’t catch their names. Jamadar was there too, standing at the back with his arms crossed, watching what the younger officers were doing.