Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [212]
As they trudged across the dark ground, Anton noticed that the hangar door looked damaged. More malicious sabotage, or simply poor maintenance? But the door opened, and Bhali’v scurried over to the three fast surface flyers housed inside.
When Anton, Vao’sh, and a group of Ildiran volunteers had visited the night-side Secda construction site, they’d flown one of these vessels. After night descended on Maratha Prime, the fast surface flyers had been placed into storage until the next day season. Now they were the only craft that could take the skeleton crew over to the sunlit side, and safety.
Ilure’l looked jumpy and anxious. He still seemed to believe that the Shana Rei from Vao’sh’s story were waiting to prey upon them, that they might be hiding in any shadow. Anton remained ever vigilant for the mysterious saboteurs. The real ones.
The bureaucrat inspected each of the three craft, following a checklist and making notations on a diamond-crystal slate. “All appear functional enough to take us to the Secda site, where the robots have agreed to welcome us. I will divide our personnel into three groups accordingly.”
Returning to the Ildirans huddled in the lighted portion of the dome, Bhali’v also drew up a plan that distributed stockpiled food and supplies into each craft. Though the fast surface flyers would accomplish the long trek in only half a day, the refugees did not know how long they might need to wait for rescue once they reached the construction site.
Anton continued to be pleasantly surprised by how well he was dealing with the tense situation—coolheaded and sensible, finding strength and courage that he hadn’t known he possessed. Maybe he wasn’t just an armchair adventurer after all; maybe he had actually learned something from all those tales he had studied. From his repertoire, he told stories of individual valor and resolve in order to keep the skeleton crew from panicking. The Ildirans, and especially Vao’sh, particularly liked the tale of the Dutch boy who had used his finger to plug a leaking dike. Though it was a simple story, it had a legendary quality worthy of events in the Saga of Seven Suns.
When Engineer Nur’of announced that the fast surface flyers were stocked and fueled, Designate Avi’h announced with exaggerated satisfaction, “I have once again communicated with the Klikiss robots in Maratha Secda. They await our arrival.”
“Then we’d better go,” Anton said with forced cheer, “before the power goes out again.” Though he had intended it as a joke, the comment proved to be all the incentive the members of the skeleton crew needed.
They suited up and, carrying personal emergency blazers, left the lighted dome. The Designate held up the brightest spot blazer and led the way under dazzling stars that seemed much too far away. Even the brief march across the compound grounds to the hangar seemed nearly beyond the limits of the Ildirans, but Avi’h, claiming to draw strength through the thism from his brother the Mage-Imperator, moved at a brisk pace that was just short of a full-out run.
Anton and the Ildirans separated into their assigned groups and hurried to the brightly lit interiors of the individual flyers. He and Vao’sh would ride with the Maratha Designate and his bureaucratic deputy, along with the lens kithman, Nur’of, and several agricultural kithmen, diggers, and technicians.
Though Designate Avi’h was anxious to leave, Vao’sh pointed out quietly that it would be more heroic for him to see that the others departed first. “Bear in mind, Designate—we are participating in events that will be documented in the Saga of Seven Suns. How do you wish to be remembered?”
Bhali’v agreed. “You are our leader, Designate. You are our connection to the Mage-Imperator, and through him, the Lightsource.” Always