Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [213]
Mollified, Avi’h gave the order. The engines of the first surface flyer fired up, and Anton felt an indefinable sense of relief when the craft rose and departed, accelerating as it skimmed over the ground toward the far-off, unseen light of day.
The engines of the second flyer began to roar as Anton settled into his seat beside Vao’sh. Engineer Nur’of was already going over plans he had brought along. While he waited for all the passengers to strap in, he compiled a projected inventory of the supply and equipment vessels available at the Secda construction site, since the Designate had urged him to find a way to get off of the planet once they all reached temporary safety.
Anton checked through the notes he had retrieved from his personal quarters in Maratha Prime to make sure he had everything. For months he had been translating and analyzing portions of the Saga. Of all the human scholars who had filed requests, Anton Colicos was the only person ever approved to study with an Ildiran rememberer. It had been an intellectual and academic coup that none of his fellow scholars could match. His time living among the aliens, his friendship with Vao’sh, and now this unexpected ordeal—not to mention learning that his father was dead, his mother missing—gave him a great deal to assess and digest, far beyond his original goal of translating Ildiran myths and legends.
He looked over at the rememberer. “Are you glad to have a chance to practice what you preach, Vao’sh—to become a legendary figure instead of just talking about them?”
A sunrise of hues and tones flushed through his friend’s facial lobes. “No, Rememberer Anton. Given the choice, I prefer just to tell the stories, not to experience them.”
By now the second craft had flown away. Finally, their flyer lifted off the ground. Since he was the most qualified, Nur’of served as pilot. Bhali’v sat at the communications console, making regular contact with the other two craft. They raced across the landscape, skimming low over uneven ground that appeared bare, rough, and lifeless. While Anton gazed out the dark window, the other Ildirans faced inward toward the flyer’s lights and each other. The shadowy ground slithered by under them.
With every moment they moved closer to the distant line of daylight. Speeding along, the first flyer was by now far ahead of them and out of sight around the curve of the planet. The blazing engines of the second vehicle were only a pinpoint of orange in the distance.
Suddenly, Bhali’v frowned as he checked and rechecked his console. “We have just lost all contact with the first surface flyer.” He looked behind him to the Maratha Designate. “Their transmissions cut off abruptly. The pilot had time only to say that he had discovered an unusual reading, a spike—and then the signal cut off.”
“What about the second flyer?” Designate Avi’h asked.
Anton leaned forward, suspicions already churning in his mind. The bureaucrat kithman sent his inquiry signal. “Nothing unusual so far…Wait—”
Far ahead of them, the brilliant orange dot of the flyer’s afterburners suddenly bloomed into a dazzling flower of incandescent light.
The Ildirans were astonished. “Kllar bekh! It just…exploded,” Nur’of said, immediately checking his own readings.
Anton leaped up from his seat. “Shut everything down, Nur’of! Land! You’ve got to put us down here and now.”
“But there is nothing out here,” Designate Avi’h sputtered.
Anton cut him off. “Two flyers in a row? That can’t be a coincidence! We’re only a few minutes behind them, so we don’t have long.”
The engineer decelerated drastically until their hull and landing gear scraped along the rough, barren ground. Anton speculated: “I don’t know if it was sabotage or just a flaw in these ships, but it could be a timed explosive that was activated as soon as we took off. We’ve got to get out of here now.”
As the flyer screeched to a halt, he opened the hatch, exposing them