AL CLARK - Avalon -: (Book Two) Page 3

  Kayla Hamilton, Ana’s partner, was a thirty-five-year-old medical specialist that usually kept quiet, listening more than talking. This time, she had something to say. “How about explosives? We could lead them to a bomb or something.”

  Al replied, “I’m not sure that we can lead them anywhere, but I’m willing to try. Remember these creatures are smart and learn very quickly. We will have one chance to get it right because we probably won’t get a second chance.”

  Chris and Tammy were seated on the sofa next to the captain, enjoying a little time away from their five-year-old son, Thomas. Chris asked, “How do you lead a dinosaur anywhere, much less two of them, and what about the dogs they seem to have recruited?”

  “If we can find them, we could drop bombs from a shuttle. We have charges from the mining operation we could use,” the captain suggested. He thought for a second and then asked, “What about the damaged watcher. Can it be repaired?”

  Al answered, “Our roboticist Doctor Florida says no, he needs titanium for parts.”

  Cody, in his usual reserved manner, had been sitting in his chair listening. Not being a hunter, he thought he should ask, “Can we not just scare them away—must we kill them?”

  Al had thought this through, and replied to Cody, “These animals are totally unpredictable Doc. We could barely track them at all with two watchers, and the one we have left has to stay here, to cover the village. The thing that worries me is we don’t know where they are. They could be outside the fence right now.” As a group, they all looked toward the windows.

  After a short pause, the captain asked, “What do you want to do Al?”

  “What do you think Tobias?”

  “I think we need to remove them from the valley. One way or the other. We cannot allow another pack to become established this close to us—or the natives. I believe the locals are getting used to being out after dark, and having to keep looking behind our backs is no way to live. I vote we very carefully blow them up from above.”

  “Captain, I don’t think there is anything about this that is careful.” The smirk on Al’s face told them he reluctantly agreed with the captain. “When can you be ready? If we are going to do this, the sooner, the better.”

  “I am always ready to fly Chief…you know that.”

  The group spent the rest of the evening considering options. Everyone had an opinion, and sometimes there were disagreements, but as friends do, they worked things out and by the time they were ready to go home, they had a rough plan of action. The first mission of the bomb squad was born.

  ****

  They found the stretcher almost right away. A mile outside of town, bloody and torn to pieces, the litter, was all the monsters left of Aaron Sterling. The captain landed the shuttle in a field of short grass next to the remains of the stretcher. A large patch of trampled turf, with a flattened path, led in and out. A quick search produced no results. Al, Chris, and the captain stood by the shuttle discussing what to do next.

  “It’s easy to see which way they went, let’s just follow their trail,” suggested Chris.

  Al said, “Without the use of a watcher, that is probably our only answer.”

  “We can use the ground radar in the shuttle; it will show us any large moving objects. That might help. I’ll fly the shuttle close to the ground so we can follow the trail until we get a hit on the radar. What did you set the timers for on the bombs?”

  “Ten seconds is the minimum time allowable, I set them for fifteen,” Chris answered.

  Al was anxious to get moving; they were burning daylight. “We better get going, if they are still moving, it might be miles before we catch up.”

  They re-boarded the shuttle, leaving the cargo door open in preparation for tossing the packages they prepared onto their unsuspecting targets. The captain took them up to a hundred feet, turned slightly starboard, and began following the trampled grass and numerous footprints left by the marauders, with the radar beeping in the background.

  It was close to noon when the radar started adding additional beeps to its usual staccato of outgoing pulses. On the screen, they could see tiny dots running before and after two larger dots. It appeared the dogs were still accompanying them. The Riktors had been slowly circling back, and now they were headed in the direction of the settlement—towards Camelot.

  Chris and Al were standing by the door with their explosive packages ready in one hand, and the other holding onto the door frame, the wind fighting to blow them out of the craft. When the shuttle was only a mile out from the village, they caught up to the beasts.

  “I’m taking us up to five hundred feet. Fifteen seconds can seem like a long time when your quarry is moving, and I don’t want them close enough to jump up and grab the landing skid.”

  “Why do you say that Captain?” asked Chris.

  “I’ve had one do just that, and I had to blast it myself. When it fell, I was almost thrown from the ship. This trip is not the first time we have fought Riktor’s from a shuttle.”

  Chris glanced at Al and grimaced, “Sorry…I forgot.”

  “Well, I haven’t, that was something you never forget.”

  Al and Chris stationed themselves by the open door. They had allowed themselves three explosive packages each because like many of their supplies, mining charges were limited, and they had decided that six explosives would be enough.

  “Are you ready Chris?” yelled Al, his hair buffeted by the wind.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he yelled back.

  Below them, they could see their targets, not running but covering ground fast. They must have noticed the shuttlecraft coming and kept glancing back and up.

  “It’s now or never, let—them—go! The captain exclaimed.

  They both tossed a bomb, and it turned out their pilot was right. Fifteen seconds seemed like forever, and the bombs exploded behind the loping Riktors; only causing them to break into a run.

  “We need to shorten the time on the timers. Let’s change the timers to ten seconds,” Al instructed Chris.”

  Chris twisted the dial and nodded; he was ready to try again.

  Now the beasts were in full blown running mode, and moving at a surprising pace. The captain was having trouble holding the shuttle steady above the moving Riktors but managed to get the craft a little ahead of them and relatively stable.

  “I’ll get as close as I can—try and throw the charges in front of us,” advised the captain.

  They threw again, and one more time the explosions happened behind the fast moving beasts.

  Each man grabbed another package from the box and prepared for their last chance to stop them. The village was quickly coming into sight and getting closer by the minute.

  “Captain, you have to get further ahead of them. Chris, you have to throw the explosive as hard as you can.”

  Together, they waited until the last second and threw the last of their explosives. One blew up above the trailing creature, and the other exploded under the thundering feet of the leading animal, knocking it down and forcing it into the path of the one behind it. To the bombers surprise, the creature in the rear jumped—and kept on running. A cloud of dust could be seen forming behind them as the dogs attacked the fallen Riktor and completed what the humans had started.

  Al yelled, “Get to the fence, and get us on the ground. We have to stop it!”

  The captain raced ahead and performed a maneuver that Al had seen performed only once before, spinning the nimble craft to face in the opposite direction while lightly touching down. Both passengers grabbed a rifle before they jumped to the ground, and crouched beside the idling shuttle.

  I had to. That’s what he would tell Elizabeth later. There was no choice.

  The metal of a man is measured by what is inside.

  Chris watched as Al changed. It was a visual change that always amazed him. The transition wasn’t so much a difference you could see; it was more subtle than that. Al just appeared more fluid and fast, with po
wer apparent in his stance.

  Al took off running forward while calling back to Chris, “Remember to aim for the head!”

  When the charging monster was thirty feet away from him, there was no plan in Al’s mind but to stop the thundering creature. Al knew if he stayed where he was, he would die. Instinct told him it was better to go over than trampled under, so he crouched down and jumped completely over the surprised creature, shooting it in the neck along the way. As it stumbled and slowed, Chris was rewarded with the perfect opportunity for a headshot, and took advantage of it. Once the animal stopped sliding, it became apparent the beast would never hunt again.

  In the surrounding bushes, the scavengers could be heard making their way to feed on the carcass of their last victim. It was always surprising to Al how fast a crisis could be over, and time speeds up to return to normal, the crisis swiftly becoming a part of the past.

  The only sound left was the slight hum of the shuttle's engines. Almost one by one the insects took a breath and started making insect noises again. The three victorious humans could be found sitting on the ground next to the shuttle, slapping each other on the backs and thanking their lucky stars.

  Chapter Three

  Al was sitting at his kitchen table watching Elizabeth do dishes after eating breakfast. It always amazed him that with all the technology available to them, she still had to rinse the dishes before placing them in the dish cleaner. He wasn’t sure if the machine couldn’t do a good job without rinsing, or if Elizabeth just liked to go the extra step.

  He had already made his rounds this morning, as he preferred to do, with most of the colonists and the sun still asleep. He enjoyed those early mornings by himself and loved watching the sun wake up, followed by the people. It was his quiet time and one of the few times when he felt totally at peace.

  They were discussing the mining expedition that he would be leaving for shortly.

  “Do you think you will find anything?” she asked.

  “Well,” Al said while staring out the window, “The natives seem to think there is something special about this cave, and the scans the captain did over the mountain showed possible Rutile and Ilmenite deposits. If we can find those, we should have what we need. We have to check it out.”

  “I thought titanium was a hard metal to make,” she asked.

  “On Earth it was difficult and expensive. On the Excalibur, with the furnaces and machines and the space-based platform, all we need is the ore, some chlorine, and a touch of magnesium. Give it a few days, and PRESTO! We have titanium.”

  “Are the caves dangerous?”

  Al thought he detected worry on her face. Her being a woman, he was never quite sure, but he told her what he thought she wanted to hear. “No. I don’t believe so.”

  His answer came a little too quickly for Elizabeth, “Is Kira going to meet you at the caves?”

  “Umm, I think so.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, she will be there.”

  “You know that you need a native with you. They know those caves better than anyone.”

  “Yes dear, I know that.”

  “You’ll be careful…right?”

  “Yes Liz, I’ll be careful.”

  What Elizabeth didn’t know was the path to the subterranean cave they were going to was blocked off many years ago, with no way to calculate the risk involved with traveling there. The cavern deep in the mountain is considered sacred ground by the Sansi, and a place that the tribe had cherished with plentiful water flowing from an underground stream and soft sandy banks; a spacious cave that had been their home for many years.

  Ten members of the Sansi tribe were taken away by a mysterious killer over a one year period, the victims mysteriously disappearing. They had tried everything to prevent it and ultimately found they could not.

  It had broken their hearts when Kira’s great grandfather had directed them to pack up and leave—never to return. Now the ancestral home was sacred, abandoned, and until now forbidden.

  After a quick peck on her cheek, he made his escape and went to meet Chris.

  ****

  Kira sat on a large rock outside the village gate, waiting patiently near the entrance to the tunnel leading to the Kuthra village. A few years ago, for safety reasons, the tunnel had been dug to provide safe passage back and forth between Camelot and the native caves. The machines of the settlers did most of the work, with people following the machines lining the interior with finished wood, building the small access buildings, and installing adequate lighting.

  Kira was a spirited girl, with a love of learning and deep brown eyes that took note of everything around her. She was tiny compared to the average settler at only five foot four inches but carried herself as if she were much taller. At twenty years old, she was remarkably mature for her age.

  The princess was waiting for Mr. Clark and the rest of the party to arrive so that they could begin their exploration of the Lost Home. A place no one had visited for a considerable amount of time.

  Dressed in blue jeans and a red-checkered flannel shirt, gifts from her human friends, she had her long auburn hair tied back with a magic band. The others called them rubber bands, but she called them magic. Even after they told her how they were made, and explained the properties of elasticity, she still preferred to call them magic bands. To her they were small miracles.

  In the beginning, her people had believed them to be gods; come down from the stars to save them from the Riktors. She had been living with the Kuthra off and on for the last five years and thought of them as smart, hardworking, and for the most part, honest. They could do many wondrous things, but they were not gods. They were not immortal. Now they were just extra special people and friends of the Sansi.

  She had adopted many of the alien amenities and considered herself a modern Sansi. A part of two worlds, she could draw from the knowledge of both. The blue jeans she wore to protect her legs, and the beautiful Kuthra red flannel shirt to help keep her warm; but the shoes were Sansi, made from a specially prepared hide. They were a durable and comfortable product of her people.

  She was truly a princess, her father the chief of their tribe, as his father had been, and his father before him. Later this year, she would marry her childhood sweetheart and become the leader she was destined to be.

  Because of all these things, Kira was the perfect candidate to accompany the Kuthra in their quest to find the metal as light as a bird's wing, and stronger than a Riktors’ tooth. She had heard all the tales passed down from generation to generation and knew more about the lost home than anyone in the tribe. She was to be their guide.

  Sitting in the sun, deep in thought contemplating all the changes to her understanding of her world, she didn’t hear them coming until they came bursting through the door of the shack. Mister Clark, her friend Chris, the Captain, and someone she didn’t know greeted her as she stood up.

  “Hello Kira, how are you?”

  “I am doing well Mister Clark.”

  “Are you ready for our adventure?”

  “I am very springy Mister Clark. I think to you, it is an adventure. Your wife told me a word that fits me better. She called it a…homecoming. Is that the word?”

  “I believe it is, in a way I guess you are going home.”

  “I have so many stories that come from when we lived at the bottom of the mountain. I will be the first Sansi to go back in many winters. Yes, I am very springy.”

  “If that means you are excited, I think I can understand how you feel.”

  Al laughed. He tried not to, but the beaming smile and the jumping up and down forced it from him. “Your English is excellent Kira; you have been practicing.”

  “My father says we must be able to talk to our neighbors, the Kuthra, so we do not misunderstand our friends. I try very hard so that we do not.”

  Standing behind Al, Chris spoke up, “Hi Kira, remember me?”

  “I am sorry Chris, I did not see you there,” she teased. />
  He tried to look offended, and only managed to make her laugh.

  She replied, “Hello Mister Morris. How are you?”

  Chris played along, “I am well Miss Kira. I would like to introduce you to Mr. Slade, our village geologist. He will be accompanying us, and, of course, you know the captain.”

  She nodded and said hello to them both, then got down to business. “Is everyone ready? We must get going because I cannot wait any longer. I am going home.”

  They picked up their gear, took one quick look around, and headed up to the caves—to find their miracle metal.

  ****

  The equipment they brought with them was minimal but effective. The LED lanterns were small, durable and long lasting. Small mining charges would allow them to open blocked passages, without jeopardizing the integrity of the surrounding rock. Packaged food and water, basic climbing gear and sleeping bags that were compact, warm, and comfortable, were all tightly packed into their backpacks. Al added a hunting knife to his belt for the just in cases.

  When the bottom of the mountain had been the Sansi home, a broad torch-lit, gently sloping natural passage led all the way there. Now the path to their destination was dark, deep in the mountain, and broken up into blocked sections. Over the generations, many changes had been made to the caves they called home and because of the severity of their loss so many years ago, the route to the lost home had been blocked and forgotten. Because the place would be so difficult to get to, an overnight stay had been arranged.

  Half the village was there to help them start their trip. Natives and terrans alike formed a line and passed boulders until they cleared the opening. At the very back of the main meeting cave, standing before the dark maw of the cave, they said their goodbyes.

  Kira’s father pulled Al aside and offered some advice, “You must take caution Mister Clark. Beware the Hondo, he is…very powerful and demands sacrifice. If you have to become a god again, do not be ashamed. It is your destiny.”