A Mandate Of Sword And Railgun

Mage

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 3

The Road to Life

Winds.

Gusts of hot air blasted across the ravaged by orbital bombardment and heavy fighting hills. There, surrounded by all this wanton destruction, remained one barely serviceable road. Its masterfully manufactured, interlocking slabs were wide and allowed for twelve lanes of traffic. This was a major road artery, which connected many smaller towns to the planetary highway system.

Battles raged across the entire length of this road.

For many centuries, roving gangs of motorcycle riding, car driving alien bandits, fought each other for control of Avern’a’s road network. These raiders pillaged small villages, killed anyone who resisted them and kidnapped the rest to be sold into slavery. Anyone who dared drive upon these roads was at risk of being assaulted, molested or killed.

Oftentimes desperate locals joined forces with the benevolent aliens, mercenaries and adventurers who came to help. They formed convoys of armed, modified for battle civilian vehicles and attempted to reach one or another safe haven, build a better life for themselves. That, however, was nigh impossible, because once on the road, these people were immediately beset by the raiders.

Like merciless, ever-hungry parasites, the road gangs slowly sucked the convoys’ blood dry. One after another, the armed and most capable to do battle vehicles were taken out. Then, the raiders would attack the most heavily laden with supplies, gear, and people trucks. They would never stop, chase every single car, motorcycle, and even stragglers who, in their desperation attempted to run away by foot.

One of theirs, a motorcycle rider whose task was to scout this part of the road for potential prey, noticed something in the distance. She scoured the fast moving vehicle with her goggles and slowly, her vicious smile waned.

Painted dark silver, the wheeled car looked heavy and of sturdy construction. Somewhat taller than most alien vehicles she usually scouted traveling across Avern’a’s broken roads, this car was also wide. Four, big metal wheels, covered with vacfoam, gave the machine excellent traction and whoever drove it, had absolutely no trouble maneuvering across the debris covered road.

Its body looked armored and, instead of polyplastic windows, the silvery car was fitted with sheets of blackened, transparent metal. The same, very expensive material, which some used to cast the illuminators of their starships from. Although, at first glance the wheeled machine sported no weaponry, the scout cursed under her nose. Unless she was blind, this was a modified for battle vehicle of Terran design.

Which meant lasers, railguns, advanced computing, better than average armor-plating, and perhaps even lock-on missiles.

Where exactly were all of these armaments hiding, she could not say. The car was of quite elegant design and its elongated body ended with sharp tail fins. Round, aerodynamic fenders, adorned with jet-black ornaments protruded outwards, protecting the tires.

Front and center on the vehicle’s hood, she could see another decoration. Cast from the same blackened metal, it was in the shape of a bird, wings outstretched and head looking forward. The front of this car had a big grille, and the more she looked at it, the more it resembled a shining smile.

She was a raider who saw many alien cars during her time. This one in particular, with its smiling grille – it invoked fear and promised doom. If you compared said vehicle to a person, that would definitely be someone smiling in the face of death. Perhaps even Death himself grinning at you...

The raider shook all of these gloomy, defeatist thoughts off and reached for her comms. This was but one Terran-made vehicle, and no matter who made it, any car could be overwhelmed and ultimately – destroyed. She imagined how much would the loot taken from such a vehicle cost, and a vicious grin once again adorned her face.

“Boys and girls, rev up your grav-bikes, hop in your cars! We have fresh prey, driving on our road...” – She heard them laugh, chuckle, scream with joy, and powered up her bike.

It was time for a raid!

* * *

Reia sat in the front seat and eyes full of wonder, examined the alien car’s interior. Everything was new for her and exciting; traveling inside this machine made her feel calm, as if it projected an aura of safety around itself. The seats were supremely comfortable – something which she never experienced being raised in a dusty bunker complex. At worst they simply sat on the dusty floor, and at best on some old, banged up crate.

Moreover, the machine sported a wondrous life-support system. Despite the sweltering heat and dust outside, Reia felt like she was in the cool water cave of her home bunker. She could swear the insides of this car had the same aroma!

Through the transparent metal, she observed how this vehicle navigated the debris covered road with ease. Not once did the alien machine shake, even when its tires rolled over something slightly bigger than a tin can, a rock or a piece of concrete. This was perhaps the smoothest ride Reia had experienced in her entire life.

Indeed, she remembered that during her childhood, some adventurers transported her and her parents to another bunker. It was a long, dangerous ride on some alien grav-vehicle, which constantly shook, careened left and right. Reia and two of her friends “vomited,” but since Avern’a barely ate, they spent the rest of that trip choking on their own stomach acid.

Her driver already satiated Reia’s curiosity and answered the absolute torrent of questions she showered him with. She touched the manufacturer’s logo and then mumbled the word in their alien language:

VOLGA

It was the combat model, he said.

When one wished to travel with style, they purchased a “limousine,” this manufacturer’s most famous model – the Chaika. Sporting an interior most luxurious, it too was capable of great speed and had improved maneuverability. For all intents and purposes, this limousine was one of the very best vehicles in her class.

However, this was not a regular car or one made for driving on peaceful roads.

This was a gift from a Russian friend of his, the Cowled One said. Reia had no clue what or where this place called Russia was, but apparently they made great machines. The Orel was purposely built for road combat, armored and armed up to the hood. Lasers and railguns he said, but no missiles since there was no space. There was a much bigger engine under the hood, and everything had to be cooled, so no big weapons, the mage said.

The car’s gauges were strange-looking; some holographic others analogue, they all glowed with pleasant to the eye, greenish light. The vehicle’s dashboard was labeled with five alien letters and a cast, metal logo. It vaguely reminded her of one long since exterminated by the invader semi-sentient war bird, her people called the Alken.

Her being a lore keeper or how many others called her position – Loresinger, knew many Avern’a chanteys.

Some told tales about ancient war machines; the life-saving battle tanks, which her people built in the olden days. Others recanted the valiant struggle of soldiers who piloted towering mecha and bravely flew into the fray – their only thought to protect, defend everyone’s home.

However, she remembered not a single song which spoke about cars or motorcycles. The closest one Reia recollected was the planetary mass transportation ode. Those who wrote it, described times when her people could freely travel around Avern’a, using grav-trains or underground transport tubes. The same song had a verse about roads, her planet’s awe-inspiring, planetary highway system.

“It was my assumption that, had I succeeded, there’d be a lot of walking still ahead of me.” – Reia cautiously asked, after she stole another look at his masked face.

“I am a busy mage.” – he looked at her and his crystal eyes glinted – “I have places to visit and many more tasks to complete.”

Triggered by some occurrence an instrument bleeped and another screen, this time holographic, appeared above the dashboard. Reia saw a constantly moving map of the area and their vehicle was at its center. There, projected on the holo-screen, were a number of blue dots – moving, trying to surround them dots.

“Speaking of tasks...”

One of his golden eyes flickered, then part of the holo-image was greatly magnified. She saw a small number of grav-vehicles, cars and motorcycles, their vicious-looking drivers waving beam weapons in the air. Ten bikes and three cars, split in three teams, approached them from the flanks and behind.

The raiders’ intent was apparent – after disabling their vehicle, they’d chop and sell it piece by piece. There was no question what could happen to them either. Reia and pretty much everyone on Avern’a knew – road bandits were the biggest “suppliers” of slaves to the local flesh peddlers. Her own brother was probably caught by them and then sold off to Matriarch Senis.

“This road is the quickest and most convenient route to Matriarch Senis’s laboratory. It must be made safe once more.”

“But there are so many of them!” – Reia came to the sudden realization, that the possibility of them being killed or worse, was rather high.

“Quantity quality equals, not.” – With serenity laden voice stated the cowled man.

“Now, search your memory, Loresinger. Tell me everything you know about ancient Avern’a roads.”

Reia blinked confused, when some of the car’s armor-plating realigned so its weaponry could engage the raiders. Gently whining, the rear hood opened and a turret sporting two machine guns emerged from the trunk.

One of the grav-bike piloting bandits, a stick bomb wielding man, fast approached. Immediately, the rear turret swiveled and fired a short burst of railgun pellets, shredding both raider and bike. His bomb tumbled and detonated down the road, ripping another motorcycle to pieces.

Surprisingly, all of this violence did not startle, but further calmed her down. Reia witnessed how with a flick of his wrist, the Cowled man summoned his magics. A cloud of tiny lights materialized around one of the closest cars and, just before the particle-beam cannon mounted on its front hood could fire, the bandit vehicle hit something.

It was as if an invisible barrier had emerged out of thin air and directly in the speedily moving vehicle’s way. A most spectacular crash followed, with mangled pieces of metal flying everywhere, some hitting another biker and shaving off his head. That, however, was the amount of luck they’d have and quickly, their machine was showered with an absolute hail of enemy fire.

Light arms, mounted particle-beam guns, stick bombs, and short-range missiles...

The raiders aimed well and Reia expected their own vehicle, no matter how well armored, to suffer a lot of damage. Most of the smaller beams vanished in the air, only a few steps from the car. Some of the bigger cannons, the raider cars mounted particle-beam guns, found their mark. Though these otherwise powerful shots harmlessly bounced off their silvery armor-plating.

Stick bombs detonated everywhere else, but not on target. Some even blew up halfway, taking another grav-bike out of the fight. The four missiles, which raiders locked-on the Volga’s tires, didn’t even explode. Indeed, the Terran-made vehicle had suffered some damage; its armor-plating bent where the missiles hit and charred by particle-beam fire.

Far from being over, the furious exchange of weapons fire continued.

When the raiders attempted to attack their car from point blank range, two laser cannons fired at them. Protruding from hidden cowls above the car’s headlights, these turrets were also armored and sported big heatsinks. The guns were of smaller caliber, comparable to the infantryman’s assault rifle, and the mage aimed well. Bursts of laser beams turned four of the grav-bike riding bandits to charred crisps, preventing them from physically harming their car with their vibroblades.

Nevertheless, some attacks hit, one missile and stick bomb finally detonated, the explosions mangled their armor and caused some internal damage. After taking all of this punishment, Reia expected that their vehicle would slow down. Yet she heard and even felt how its engine roared defiantly and then... the Volga drove faster.

She searched her memory and recited some of the verses, as quickly as she could. The planetary mass transportation ode, one of the oldest songs she knew spoke of miracle devices built in roads, close to large bodies of water. When activated, these machines formed a defense of sorts, but how or even why, the ode did not say. Tired, Reia placed her hands on the dashboard and uttered:

“This is all that I know, mage... I am sorry, I don’t think how a song so ancient can be relevant today.”

“You will be surprised, Loresinger.”

Obviously mad after suffering such losses and eager to catch them, the raiders pushed their grav-vehicles. Most were damaged since every time they closed distance, the mage shot them either with machine guns or lasers. Another attack by the two still remaining enemy cars prompted him to change tactics.

“Pull the lever when I tell you.” – The mage’s glowing eyes pointed at the control panel which appeared before her.

Their car’s dashboard apparently housed all sorts of mysterious gadgets, machines too complex for her knowledge to operate without council. The small panel had only a few knobs on it, plus the aforementioned lever; there were words similar to the car’s logo.

If that was the language of these Russians, then she aimed to learn more. Understanding their letters meant a path for studying their songs would be unlocked before her, and within them lay the soul of a people. Reia had no idea who were they, yet the more she rode in that vehicle, the more she felt that just like her own race, the Russians embraced resilience.

One verse at a time and using all of her skill, the loresinger forged a new song. It was to be the story of this alien car and her mysterious, magic weaving driver. Perhaps, after all of this was behind her she could sing it, teach this story to others and inspire them. As per tradition, she excluded her own actions from the song, relegating herself to the role of a mere observer.

Reia reached for the lever, her entire body tense, ready to pull at a moments notice. She cared not what would happen, only knew what she saw so far, and it was glorious! These raiders, these parasites, they died felled by the car’s weaponry without fail. In her mind she quietly cheered, every time one of them got ripped to shreds by the Volga’s machine gun turret or burned to a crisp by the lasers.

They were about to reach an elevated part of the road and then it happened.

At first, she heard a whisper coming from under the mage’s mask, then his voice became louder, that alien chant of his – he was now shouting every word. Sparkling, fluttering light particles filled the car and then spilled out of it. Her entire body shaking, Reia saw through her skin, but that star-second came and passed. Then the road, entire sections of it shook and, displacing tons of dust and debris, selected few of them rose up.

The two raider cars attempted to box them in, and had gotten real close. Both had already hit their Volga, yet were unsuccessful in stopping the brutally efficient Russian car. The road bandits were too overconfident, like most aliens, in their near magical grav-drives. However, said nifty engines overheated much quicker that this Terran-made machine, and under these conditions, even quicker. Therefore, when the road itself moved against them, their drivers were unable to stop or maneuver out of danger’s way.

“Now!” – The mage shouted and Reia acted, immediately pulling the small lever.

Despite all the commotion, there were sets of distinct, loud clicking sounds. Since she was a singer and her hearing well-trained, Reia heard two sets of clicks and then metal screeching over metal. One glance to the side and it was evident that their car successfully launched some type of a flying, disc-shaped vibroblades.

The two raider cars, one hit in the front part and the other, mid-section, flew apart. Seconds later, the three bikers who still remained among the living, crashed. Indeed, they attempted to steer away, one of them even escape with her life, but the road itself was their enemy now. Big slabs made from ancient metal and concrete flipped in the air and blocked their way or like hungry jaws closed shut around them.

Then there was silence, broken only by the roar of their Volga’s engine and the mage’s hastened breathing. Hands shaking, the Great Cowled One slowed and ultimately, stopped their car. He opened the bent, armored door and after making only a few steps, sat on the road.

Reia, legs shaking and eyes wide, after a couple of unsuccessful attempts to open her door, exited through the driver’s. She sat nearby, her attention split between him and the still falling back into their places road segments.

“Magic, all magic has its cost, Reia.” – tiredly, his gloved hand pointed at the last road slab falling – “Achieving a feat such as this one is not easy, even for My magic.”

“What are we going to do now? The facility is over yonder, behind these hills.” – She pointed at a line of crooked, bombed to hell hills in the close distance.

The mage sighed, canted his head and then slowly stood up. After dusting his robes, he beckoned her to enter the Volga and then sat behind the wheel. He waved his hand over the dashboard’s sensor controls and enlarged a section of holo-projected map.

“Before we visit the Matriarch, there is one last stop along the way.”

The Cowled One pointed at something which could only be the entrance of a tunnel, once part of the nearby dried lakes underground irrigation system. Reia knew a segment of a song, telling the tale of one old resistance cell, which used these tunnels to launch surprise attacks at the invader.

It didn’t say much, but the verse did mention tactical mecha, hidden deep underwater. Her teacher taught every single piece she remembered – even the broken, lost verses and Reia made double sure to remember them too. From a similar verse she knew that the best olden tactical mecha model was called Alken. Yet even if there was something in these tunnels, that could only be a mangled, ruined husk.

“Why, what is there? I know of that place, but it hasn’t been in use since... forever. Last time our resistance had a base there, the lakes were still full of fresh, clean water.”

“Who, not what. They are the damned ones, the unfortunate few who survived, the leftovers.” – said the mage and slowly drove up the road.

“You mean to say that there are alien adventurers who made these tunnels their base?! How can they help?”

“Because many of their friends and children were taken by slavers. The nearest place they could’ve been sold is that well-hidden laboratory, ran by Matriarch Senis. You might say I have a vested interest in bringing that demented monstrosity to justice, and these once proud adventurers, they would be most willing helpers, indeed.”

He gently increased their speed since the car’s instrumentation showed a number of red indicators. The Volga, even though her engine still rumbled, she screeched and moaned like a heavily wounded warrior. Her driver, after gently patting the dashboard and mumbling something in another strange language, looked her and said:

“Also... they have many trucks.”

Their car finally left the wide road and its damaged tires soon fought against thick sand, rocks, and metallic debris.

Reia felt tears running down her cheeks and after a minute or so, wiped them. When she left the bunker against her teacher’s advice, the young woman never imagined that others could also be saved. She planned to sacrifice herself so her little brother would live. Now, it would seem that not only he, but everyone who suffered unimaginable torture in this laboratory – they might all be saved!

* * *

This is a chapter from my first short story collection, A Mandate Of Sword And Railgun.