The Medida War Page 4

  In the next moment there was an explosion. Rusty fell as the ground shook. Then there was the sound of lacing gunfire. Another explosion. More laser fire spat and peppered holes in the side of the kennel. The screams of two of the steeds intensified as they were cut down by a hail of lasers. He could hear the sound of the others kicking down the door and galloping out and away.

  Loud, crackling laser fire forked and flashed in the gathering blackness of the night. He could smell smoke rising from separate fires sprouting up outside.

  He ventured cautiously towards the window. Outside, he could see the marshrooms listing on their sides. They were engulfed in fierce flames as the machines poured death into them. Some of the marshrooms were skittering forwards and he saw through the flames that they had the distorted faces of Fertility Crater, Lush Deimos, Abundance Mountain, and other neighbours of theirs that had gone missing.

  Fertility had been young and pretty. They went to the local school together and he'd done all those dumb things like carrying her books, playing the latest sky denseing music and talking about the fashions in Marineris City. She actually had an original Scargill - a bright orange waistcoat with matching yellow and grey trim. It had been a present from her rich uncle and she'd worn it to the end of term dance. Rusty had never seen anyone look so pretty. There had been talk of her and Rusty walking out together soon. And maybe even marrying. The settlers believed in starting young. As Pa said, "The sooner she pups the better. Like it says in the Book of Gaia, 'Go forth and multiply'".

  It broke Rusty's heart to see his childhood sweetheart turned into this grotesque travesty.

  One of the machines, with a fixed evil smile on his face, sliced her down the middle with its sword. Repelled by the horror of it all, the redhead turned away.

  The grotesque imitation of his mother stood before him again in the semi-darkness. The outstretched thick roots that served as arms were reaching for him. A latticework of blue veins ran like a crazy road map over her squelching, red oozing, and bullet-riddled body.

  He tried to raise his machine gun but the creature was much too fast for him. It snapped its tentacles out like whips and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him from the ground.

  The thing was singing The Lament of the Soya Bean Cowboy. "Oh, give me a home where the trihimoth roam and the redwolf and the trimorph play." Rusty began to choke; his windpipe was cut off. He struggled weakly against the vegetable thing.

  It raised its other pseudopodia and pointed two thorny spikes at Rusty's eyes.

  Rusty shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the moment of his own execution.

  Then he heard a crushing blow and his "mother" slackened her cruel grip. He found himself sprawled on the ground as another smashing blow was delivered.

  He looked up to see two titanic figures in furious combat. He saw it was one of the machines, which gave the shambling, tangled mass of weed a savage punch. The creature's face burst, sending spongy, moist marshroom meat flying in every direction.

  The machine leapt on top of her, hurling her against the wall that now splintered and cracked open under its immense weight.

  The slithering, coiled tentacles wrapped themselves around the machine and yanked it towards its swelling trunk like a column. Rusty could hear the armour of the robot begin to crack as it tightened its grip on the robot.

  With servos groaning in his armour, the machine, with a great effort, tore the slithering appendages away and watched the ripped, flapping tubular arms spurt a dark red and viscous fluid that spread like oil, forming stinking, steaming puddles on the ground.

  He buried his helmet laser in the heart of the thing and opened fire. He kept on firing.

  Rusty could hear a rising wail from the creature that mounted to a screech.

  The machine stood up abruptly and stepped away from the moaning organism. He fired again and it burst into flames, howling and cursing as it was engulfed in a searing inferno.

  The automaton turned purposefully toward Rusty.

  The boy drew himself back, his heart thudding in fear again. The glow from the tangled, burning monstrosity illuminated the approaching machine.

  "It's okay, son. Don't be frightened," Hammerstein said, offering Rusty a friendly hand. "The ABC Warriors are here now."

  FOUR

  It was still dark. Outside, the wind ripped away at sand dunes. The partially burnt and smashed front porch of the farm stood stark and stripped in the droning blackness.

  The ABC Warriors and the hunched and hooded figure of Seraph rose and surrounded Rusty. They couldn't get much out of him. He was still in shock.

  He stared with frozen startled eyes at the two black, creased body bags containing his father and brother. The constant wind stroked the plastic surfaces, kneading and rattling away at the tied up ends as they lay next to one another.

  The voices around him seemed distant, far away.

  Morrigun stood close to the boy. She had covered him in a blanket to keep him warm. Blackblood came out with a hot beverage for Rusty. "Here, son," he said kindly. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better. I've made you a nice cup of marshroom tea."

  Joe looked at Blackblood with disdain and shook his head slowly. He escorted him away and had a quiet word with him.

  He sometimes wondered what possible strategic and logical function such an amoral character like Blackblood served in the ABCs. There was no doubting that Blackblood was a capable and wily operator, and he had saved the other Warriors' necks on several occasions. Nevertheless, his slavish adherence to evil and his sick philosophy made him potentially dangerous and counterproductive.

  "Rusty," Morrigun said in soft, comforting tones. "You've been through a terrible ordeal. Come and lie down."

  Deadlock was paying no attention to the boy. Instead he was watching Seraph Rosesand, whose hideous features were covered by his dust veil again.

  Mongrol was busy having some kind of grunting conversation with Mek-Quake over to one side.

  The only one of these strange robots Rusty felt he could really trust was Hammerstein. "Thank you for saving my life, sir."

  "I only wish we'd been here in time to save your pa and brother, son."

  "Rusty, can you try to tell us what happened?" asked Morrigun.

  Morrigun was doing her best to coax the young man into talking about the incident. Although it was an onerous task so soon after the event, the boy's impressions were likely to give the ABCs the clearest picture of what had occurred.

  "With respect, why do you need to ask him anything?" sighed Seraph Rosesand irritably. "I told you something weird was going on here. This isn't the first time it's happened with the marshroom crop. You saw for yourself that it was Medusa. The way she created a phoney version of his mother and the other settlers. What more evidence do you need that she is the real enemy on this planet, for Gaia's sake?"

  The boy said nothing. He stared blankly into space.

  "Come on, young man, time for bed," said Morrigun. A room at the back of the shattered farmhouse was still intact and she put the boy there, settling him down to sleep.

  Then she went out to discuss plans with the others. They would need to wipe out the entire marshroom crop and alert the other farmers that their produce needed to be destroyed. It would be tragic news and they would not take kindly to it. After all, it was the main source of their livelihood. Blackblood volunteered to tell them. Joe went with him. The others set about burning the killing fields.

  Rusty slept very deeply. It was his mind's way of beginning the long healing process. It was a long dreamless sleep without thought, or fear, or feeling. It soothed his shocked nervous system.

  "Rusty?" From behind him came a familiar voice. He stirred in his sleep, rubbed his eyes and gradually awoke.

  He looked up from his pillow to see the body bags standing before him.

  The occupants inside were trying to tear their way out. They shuffled towards him, "Rusty... Rusty, why did you leave us?"

  Rusty looked a
round for Hammerstein, seeking his protection, but he wasn't there. He was alone and the twisted figures were approaching. The rummaging plastic was getting closer, closer. In broken, muffled voices, cracked with pain and thick with death, they sang:

  Across the bridge, there's no more sorrow,

  Across the bridge, there's no more pain,

  The sun will shine across the river,

  And we will never be unhappy again.

  They tore out of their body bags, twisted and broken. Pa and Sandy were horribly mutilated, yet still recognisable as his family. But at least they were dead. At least they were zombies, he thought. That, at least, was something. At least they weren't marshroom creatures like Ma and pretty Fertility Crater.

  Then he began screaming.

  He woke with a start.

  This time for real.

  And then he wished he were back asleep.

  At first he thought there was a long, wet snake on the pillow beside him.

  Then he thought maybe it was some other creature because it didn't have a face or a head.

  Just this slimy serpentine thing.

  Suddenly the serpent thing retracted rapidly into the face of a blackened figure before him. Like it was a toad's tongue.

  Rusty realised, as he focused, that the black shape was in fact the bent and hooded old man he'd seen earlier with the robots. He was looking down at Rusty through his sand-encrusted veil which he'd now pulled back over his face. Rusty had no idea who this strange man was or why he seemed so interested in him. He was still too preoccupied with the nightmare to care; still swimming in the depths of fear, horror and despair.

  Seraph Rosesand peered curiously at Rusty but said nothing. Then he turned abruptly and left the room without saying a word.

  The Warriors were crammed into the living room at the front of the farmhouse, discussing the situation. Mek-Quake had transferred his brain to his humanoid body and was therefore able to join them, although he would be entirely useless for the discussion. Joe Pineapples and Blackblood had returned from breaking the bad news to the rest of the farmers.

  Joe stood before a vertical length mirror, polishing away at his main firearm. Every so often he glanced at his lithe, steel muscular frame. His long limbs were designed with the greatest of athletes in mind. His sleek visor gave away no emotion. While he worked on his gun, almost reflexively, he was picking up every word that was uttered. It was his way of concentrating.

  "It seems that Medusa doesn't want us on her planet," he said almost nonchalantly, getting involved for the first time in the discussion.

  "It's a little too obvious for my taste," commented Blackblood. "If she really wanted to kill off all the floppies, all she had to do was poison the water supply or the atmosphere. There's no real need for such theatrical stunts."

  "Yes, but she's not you. Perhaps they're a warning," said Hammerstein. "A way of telling humans they have to change."

  Deadlock's icy tones seethed like permafrost around the room. The temperature perceptibly dropped a degree or two as he spoke, "The voice of Medusa has drawn us back to Mars. We must tear away the forces of evil that fester and hide here, sucking away at the vitality of this world and turning brother against brother, and feeding the populace with fear."

  Hammerstein nodded in agreement. He didn't really know what Deadlock was banging on about. But it was the kind of wizard speech Deadlock liked to make and the simple soldier was always stirred by such rhetoric.

  "Yes," continued Deadlock. "An insidious force lies coiled like a serpent within our midst waiting to strike. We must be prepared for it."

  He was not looking at Hoodwink as he spoke.

  "As I have already told you," said Seraph. "that force is Medusa. I believe she will intensify her campaign to eradicate all human life from this planet. But now because you are here, and have seen her evil for yourself, there is a real chance to defeat her."

  "Unless of course, you were the real source of evil," said Morrigun.

  "What are you talking about?" asked Hammerstein. He was rather embarrassed by the accusation. This was because, thanks to Snnktts, Seraph was sending out an aura of absolute conviction, which was able to convince them. All of them that is, except Morrigun, whose female intuition told her otherwise. Seraph was a wrong 'un, all right. And Deadlock still said nothing.

  "Well, it's all been very convenient, hasn't it, Hammerstein?" continued Morrigun. "We come under attack the moment we land on Mars, then we're met by this man, Rosesand, who just happens to be close-by."

  "What are you trying to suggest, Morrigun? That there's some sort of conspiracy and Mr Rosesand here is involved?" asked Hammerstein.

  "Perhaps."

  Seraph turned slowly to face Morrigun. "I can appreciate that you may feel suspicious of me. Look at my appearance, it's hardly pleasing for most people to gaze upon."

  Morrigun interrupted, "That's not what I?meant-"

  "No, of course not, of course not," Rosesand interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're a machine. You don't share the same irrational prejudice that humans have. You're not programmed to judge a thing by appearance, are you?"

  "I'm simply going by my intuition. What do you say, Deadlock?"

  "I'm saying nothing."

  Rosesand continued, "You wouldn't besmirch a man because he was the victim of a dreadful accident that robbed him once and for all of his chance to live life as a normal human being, the life of a man without scars?"

  "Of course I would," said Blackblood. "It's part of my philosophy to kick a man when he's down. It's basic evolution. Survival of the fittest."

  Seraph Rosesand's brain received a strong telepathic message from his outer-dimensional partner, Snnktts, as he was covering his tracks with the Warriors. His hidden cohort was getting impatient. It had already fed on Rusty's fear. That was the explanation for the amphibian tongue that nuzzled the boy on the pillow. The boy's pain and suffering which he'd drawn on from his subconscious had tasted good, but it was not enough. It wanted more. It wanted mayhem and death.

  Seraph counselled further patience from his associate. He needed to play for time. He would have another chance to put the Warriors down for good shortly but he needed to string them along for just a little longer.

  "I still say he laid the ambush for us," Morrigun was insisting. "And it was very strange the way Medusa attacked just on cue. The timing of the attack was too good."

  Hammerstein turned to Deadlock. "You were once the leader of the Knights Martial who tried and sentenced war criminals to death. If anyone is a judge, it must be you."

  As always, at the end of the day, Hammerstein subscribed towards authority. Anyone with a badge or a title must know better than him.

  Deadlock did not reply.

  "Deadlock?"

  To his surprise, the wizard suddenly turned and swept out of the farmhouse.

  Mek-Quake immediately followed. He didn't know why Deadlock was making such a grand exit, but he was fond of imitating him.

  Mongrol followed as well. Not because he understood what was going on, but because he was a pack animal and liked to go with the pack.

  "Why Deadlock leave us, Mek-Quake?" questioned Mongrol.

  "Deadlock very smart, Mongrol. Smarter than even Mek-Quake and that's saying something. He's trying to figure out what's going on."

  "Ah!" grunted Mongrol, not comprehending.

  From the time he found Seraph Rosesand cowering on that precipitous ledge, Deadlock had known this was his enemy. He had sensed the alien within him. It had required all his power as a wizard to shield this knowledge from his opponent and he had dared not say anything in case the slightest inflection would give him away. He had to wait until the time was right.

  Until he had found what he knew must be on this farm somewhere.

  He waved Mongrol and Mek-Quake away. They seemed to want to follow him like faithful dogs. They looked a little lost, but did as he commanded. Mongrol fell back on his haunches, waiting patiently
for Deadlock to return. Mek-Quake did something similar.

  The robot wizard glided over the farm land and gazed solemnly at the ruptured earth where swollen pods of marshrooms lay incinerated, blackened by laser fire and oozing a thick yellow and red fluid with a heavy stench.

  He heard a distant cry of pain, a hollow sound that wove on the crest of the wind. Yet at the same time it seemed to come from below him, underground. He knew it was Medusa and that she was suffering.

  He looked about the farmland until the optics came to rest on a remote area of land where, jutting out of the ground squatted a roughly built stone brick well.

  Without a moment's hesitation, Deadlock made for the well.

  Inside the farmhouse, Rosesand continued to explain what was happening on Mars. Every horror that can be imagined, every atrocity, has been performed by this abomination calling itself the consciousness of Mars." His voice trembled with croaking fury. "She has created trinary life forms from larval sacs deep within the planet. She has indiscriminately poisoned the soil. More importantly, she has tricked you, the ABC Warriors, by using her insipid song to draw you back to Mars."

  "Are you suggesting that we shouldn't have come back?" asked Morrigun.

  "Of course you should be here!" exclaimed Rosesand. "To protect humans in the fight against this alien cancer called Medusa. You're the great hope for many settlers here. The legendary ABC Warriors will prevail over Medusa where so many have fallen before so that we humans can once and for all lead free and happy lives."

  Once again Joe, Hammerstein and Blackblood seemed convinced by his argument. Mek-Quake and Mongrol didn't really have a vote, even if they had been present. They looked to Morrigun for her agreement.

  She turned away, irritated by the male robots' stupidity. Don't they know anything, she thought? It was hard for her to imagine what it was like not to have her female gift.