The Black Sentry (21 page)

31

“We’re plummeting fast,” Daman said. “Is there any way to repair the hole?”

“Sure,
” Brita said, “if you have some way to climb on top of the balloon.”

In
other words–no. They would crash to the ground–inside the fortress. If the fall didn’t kill them, the Sentry surely would. “There must be something we can do.”

“We’re
close to the tower.”

“
So? The balloon is falling.”

“We could
jump.”

“Jump?
” He peered over the edge of the basket, then down at the ground, which approached at frightening speed. His nausea and dizziness returned. “We’d kill ourselves.”

Brita’s lips were pressed tightly tog
ether. “We’re dead either way.”

*****

Xander raced across the field. He hoped to get close enough to slip through the open gate before anyone spotted him.

A dozen or so Sentry
loitered outside the gate. One of them spotted him while he was still more than a hundred feet away.

But he did not stop running.

Half a dozen Sentry started toward him at once. Fine, Xander thought, let them come. I may not be able to take them all down, but I’ll give them a fight they won’t forget. At the very least, they’ll think twice before they mistreat a “mere” slave.

He ran toward them, shouting at the top of his lungs
.

To his surprise, they backed
away.

He
shouted even louder. Cowardly Sentry, he thought. They outnumber me six to one, and still–

Wait a minute
. They weren’t just backing away. They turned and bolted, moving as fast as their feet could carry them. He knew he wasn’t that frightening.

He slowed, then stopped
. He heard something.

The sound of many feet, running.

He turned and saw the ground assault team, all together, a few hundred feet behind him.

They were coming after all
. Every last one of them.

Following him
. A slave.

A bitter smile crossed hi
s face. Now the Black Sentry would have a fight.

*****

“The ground team has begun its attack,” Daman said, watching the dramatic tableau from above.

“That’s crazy,” Brita replied
. “Their weapons won’t work.”

“T
hey’re doing it, just the same.” He saw the bowman and others who had devoted their attention to the balloon abruptly run toward the front gate. They had a new priority now. The fortress was under attack.

“This could be a break
. Most of the Sentry are joining the fight. Only a few are staying behind to watch us.”

“No doubt we seem th
e lesser threat. Since they expect this balloon to crash and kill us.”

T
he balloon suddenly rocked to one side. He fell to his knees. “What happened?”

“We found the tower,” she
said. “Or it found us.”

T
he gleaming black tower rose beside the balloon. “We seem to be dropping faster now.”

“Hitting the tower probably caused another puncture, or widened one of the previous one
s.” Brita scanned the tower. “At this rate, we should drop by the upper window at any moment. Be ready to jump.”

“I—
I don’t think I can.”

“
I know you can.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you don’t have any choice.” She took his hand and crouched on the edge of the basket, holding a support rope for balance. The instant she saw the top of the large wide window, she jerked him forward. “
Jump
!”

They did
. There was glass in the window, but fortunately, no pane. They crashed through and fell to the floor of the room inside, shattering the glass. Shards sprayed all around them. He was cut in a dozen places.

But they were inside.

“Brita? Are you all right?”

She
crouched down on all fours, gasping for breath. “Sure. Fine.” She had a gash across her forehead gushing blood. He ripped off the sleeve of his tunic and pressed it tightly against her wound. Despite the bleeding, it was not a deep cut.

“Can you go on?” he asked.

“I didn’t come this far to give up now.” She pushed herself to her feet. He could tell it required some effort, but she didn’t complain. He wrapped the sleeve around her head and tied it in the back, creating a makeshift bandage. “Let’s find what we came for.”

“The Old Man said it would be in the highe
st room. Let’s go this way.”

The tower h
ad but a single winding staircase, spiraling upward.

The interior of t
he tower was like no place he had ever seen before. The floor was made of a white smooth surface, a material he had not previously encountered. The walls were soft and colored, covered with some fine fabric. There were drawings on the wall—paintings, according to Brita—and sculptures, and other creations that served no purpose other than to decorate.

An odd look for a s
tronghold of the Sentinel, he mused. There was nothing efficient or orderly about it. But it was beautiful.

He
wished he could spend more time examining the drawings, but he knew some of the Sentry on the ground must have seen them jump though the window. It wouldn’t be long before someone came after them.

For that matter
, some of the Sentry might be posted in the tower itself.

At last, they arrived at
the top. The corridor ended. There were no stairs or any further means of upward passage.

They walked through a door…a
nd entered the most spectacular room he had seen in his entire life.

“I
t must be here somewhere,” he muttered, spinning around. This room, like the corridor outside, was not filled with anything the Sentinel would call efficient or orderly. Beautiful furniture and colorful decorating. Glittering objects, lovely to behold. There was a bed in the far corner–a huge bed. Did someone actually sleep up here? What a life that must be.

“Over here,” Brita sai
d.

He
ran beside her. In the opposite corner, beside an open window, she discovered a flat table, bigger than his bed at home. On the tabletop rested a strange device encased in a hard metal shell but with visible parts on the exterior, many of them moving, emitting a low hum.

It could only be a Machine.

“Is this—?” Daman asked tentatively.

“It must be
. The Pulse Generator.”

He
removed the red stone hanging from his neck. “Now we must—”

He froze
. Cold fingers gripped his neck.

He spun around to face the Acolyte.

“Well, Daman Adkins, you made a commendable effort, I’ll grant you that. In a thousand years, no Rebel has come so far as you. The construction of the balloon–that was particularly clever.” His eyes narrowed. “But it’s over now. Your assault is finished. And your friends are doomed.

32

Xander
never fought so hard in his entire life. But if they lost this battle, it would not be because he failed them.

The plain outside the fortress had b
ecome a battlefield. The ground assault team–almost fifty of them–swarmed up behind him, racing toward the still-open front gate to the fortress. As soon as they were spotted, the Black Sentry poured through the gate to meet them. He couldn’t stop to take an accurate head count, but he knew the Rebels were outnumbered by at least three to one.

The struggle was hard-fought and intense, with fists and clubs and knives
. Valiant as they were, he knew the Rebels couldn’t possibly hold out for long against such odds. If the stunners didn’t come into play, they would eventually lose this battle.

And what was the likelihood that the stunners would be activated
? He had seen the balloon go down, had seen it drop out of sight within the high walls of the fortress. He hoped Daman and Brita had survived, but even if they did, the chances that they might make it into the Tower and shut off the Pulse seemed slim. He needed to get inside that fortress to see if he could help. Assuming they were still alive. And if not, he had to recover the Key before the Sentry did.

He
heard a harsh whizzing sound overhead. He turned in time to see a Rebel, not five feet away from him, clutch his chest and fall to his knees. A wooden shaft protruded from his chest. Blood seeped from the wound.

He
turned his attention to a parapet on the north wall. The man with the bow and arrow had repositioned himself. Having successfully brought down the balloon, he was now slaughtering the ground troops.

Xander foug
ht his way through the Sentry who stood between him and the front gate. Life as a slave might have other drawbacks, but it insured that a young man would learn to defend himself–if he hoped to survive. As a slave, you had to fight for everything.

Another Sentry
, a man twice his size, rushed toward him. He ducked, grabbing the Sentry around the legs and knocking him to the ground. They both fell, but the Sentry got the worst of it. He grabbed the man’s head and slammed it down on the barren ground. The Sentry’s eyes fluttered, then closed.

He
jumped to his feet and continued battling his way to the front gate. He didn’t kill anyone–he didn’t have to. He had learned that a forceful blow to the throat or the chest could quickly bring a man to his knees.

He was perhaps twenty feet
away when he saw the front gate start to close. Of course, it was the logical thing to do. Once the gate was closed, with the balloon grounded, the fortress would be virtually impregnable.

Xander rushed forward at top spee
d. He ignored everyone who stood between him and the gate, weaving and bobbing between them. The gate was open a crack as he approached, barely a foot across. Xander dove forward, launching himself sideways with all his might.

He hit the ground and rolled, squeezing through the opening at the last possible moment.

“Rebel!” one of the Sentry shouted. “Inside!”

He
didn’t wait for them to come to him. He climbed a nearby ladder and made his way to the parapet. Fortunately, his quarry was focused on the struggle outside and didn’t see him until it was too late. He smashed into the bowman, knocking his deadly weapon out of his hands and breaking it into pieces.

The bowman whipped around, his face transfigured by rage
. He swung his fist, pummeling Xander on the side of his face. He managed to keep his head together. He flew at the bowman, shoving him back, butting his head into the man’s stomach.

The bowman’s anger
intensified. He brought his fists down at the base of Xander’s neck. The pain was intense. He fell to the floor of the parapet.

His opponent saw his opportunity and took it
. With an evil grin, the man kicked Xander in the ribs.

He knew one more such blow would take him out of the fight
. Permanently. The bowman reared back his boot...

At the last possible moment, Xander rolled awa
y. The bowman didn’t see the move coming. His boot flew out into the open air, connecting with nothing. The bowman lost his balance and tottered. He whipped his arms around, trying to regain his footing, but it was too late. He tumbled backwards, over the edge of the fortress wall.

Xander
tried to grab the man, but he was not quick enough. The bowman fell the full length of the fortress wall, head first. He landed with a sickening crunch.

Xander wiped the sweat from his forehead
. His hand came back covered with blood. He must be hurt, somewhere, but he didn’t have time to dwell upon that. The bowman was down, but there were three more Sentry racing up the ladder toward him, determined to make sure he didn’t advance any further.

*****

Daman shoved the Acolyte away.

“Did you really think
that a few children could bring down the Sentinel?” the Acolyte asked, a contemptuous sneer on his face.   

“Thi
s battle is not over.” He was determined to be brave, even if he felt anything but. “The Resistance is attacking the fortress as we speak.”

The Acolyte waved his hand dismissively
. “I know all about your pitiful accomplices. Fifty Rebels at most. I have more than three times as many Sentry stationed here.”

Three times
? Could that be true? If it was, they had little hope of success...unless they disabled the Pulse.

“You say you kn
ow about the Rebels,” Brita said. “But that isn’t possible. They’ve only just emerged from hiding.”

“Honestly, girl, what do you take me for
? I’m the Acolyte of the Sentinel. Do you think it’s possible you could do anything the Sentinel wouldn’t know about? I’ve known all along you were coming.”

Could
this be true? Had the Acolyte been toying with them all along?

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe, girl. It’s true.”

“If it’s true,” Daman
said, “why did you let it happen? Why didn’t you stop us?”

“Because you had something I wanted.
” Without warning, the Acolyte snatched the red stone out of his hands. “And I thought the easiest way to recover it would be to have you bring it to me.”

Hi
s throat went dry. Had he been nothing all along but a pitiful pawn in the Acolyte’s plans?

The Acolyte placed the Key around his own neck
. “As the Sentinel’s Acolyte, I’m entrusted with the Key for this region. It was a gross failure to allow that traitorous Rebel to steal it from me. My only hope of redeeming myself was to recover it. Thank you, Daman Adkins, for making that possible.”

“But–I didn’t steal the Key
. You couldn’t possibly have known—”

“That you had the Key
? That you took it from the Rebel and hid it before he was captured? Oh, but I did know. I had it on the soundest authority.”

Wordlessly, the Acolyte stepped back, gesturing broadly with his r
ight arm.

A moment later, he
detected a movement behind one of the hanging red curtains. The Acolyte’s informant emerged, his all too familiar face set in stone.

Mykah
.

*****

Xander jumped down from the parapet onto the lower landing and grabbed two of the arrows that spilled to the ground when he tackled the bowman. The two Sentry in front saw what was coming, but didn’t react in time. Xander put an arrow in each hand and rushed them, piercing each Sentry in the stomach.

Both
fell to their knees, clutching their bleeding bellies. Even Xander was taken aback, but he had no time for guilt. There was a third Sentry...

Who took one look at what
happened to his companions and ran.

He started after him—then came to a sudden stop.

The ground began to tremble.

He knew what it was before he even looked. He climbed back onto the parapet and looked into the field.

Three Silver Sentrymen entered the field of combat, rattling the entire fortress with each step.

He felt his knees weaken.  He knew his friend
s were strong and valiant and dedicated.  But they could not hope to defeat these inhuman creatures. 

All at once, the field became a
sizzling crisscross of blue beams incinerating everything they touched. The fighting continued, but now the Rebels had even more to worry about.  Somehow, they had to fight the Black Sentry while dodging the beams of the giant machines.

He knew they could not last long.  They could not hope to triumph with those silver monstrosities in the field.

The battle was lost.

Even though he knew it was suicide, he resolved to join the rest of the assault team. He couldn’t see any way into the Tower, and if he was going to die, he wanted to die fighting. As he climbed down from the parapet, he spotted
two other members of the Sentry, older men, moving rapidly toward the central Tower.

Why were they not joi
ning the fight?

He followed them to
the Tower. As far as he could see, there was no entrance, but that didn’t seem to stop them.

They paused at the base of the Tower
. Xander ducked behind an embankment and watched. One of them scrutinized the wall for a moment, then pressed his hand against two of the tower stones in succession.

To Xander’s amazement, a door suddenly appeared.

The two Sentry scurried inside. Once they were out of sight, Xander hurried toward the opening, but by the time he arrived, the door had disappeared again. He tried pushing some of the stones, but nothing happened. No doubt it was not enough to push just any stones–it had to be the same two. But which stones were the right ones?

The cries and shouting beyond t
he gate told him the battle still raged. The Rebels fought, but they could not possibly last much longer. He had to get inside.

But how?

*****

“How could
Mykah know anything?” Daman said, gazing at his former friend. “I never told him—”

“You didn’t have to
,” the Acolyte replied. “After your escape from Clovis, your friend Mykah was rather in disgrace. Surely you didn’t think we would be fooled by that tiny bump on his head. The penalty for betraying the Sentinel is quite severe. But I gave him one last chance to redeem himself. I told him I would save him–if he told me everything he knew about you and your exploits. Which he did.”

Daman glared at
Mykah. “Is this true?”

Mykah
looked away.

“Once I
heard the whole story,” the Acolyte continued, “it was easy to piece together what had happened. Mykah spotted the Key around your neck back in Clovis. No one would bother to steal the Key unless he planned to use it. Which meant you would come to Balaveria.” He smiled. “It was all too predictable.”

Daman
turned to Brita. “Run.”

They both started, but neither got far
. The Acolyte stopped Brita, while Mykah grabbed him and held him fast. Mykah took both of his arms and twisted them behind his back. He tried to resist, but it was useless. Mykah was stronger than he was. He always had been.

The Acolyte approached
, his teeth clenched. Without warning, he whipped back his hand and slapped him across the face. “Impudent child. Did you really think you could bring down the Sentinel?”

“I could but hope,” he answere
d, biting his sore lip.

“You’ve been brainwashed by the babblings of a useless old man
. You’re fighting for an illusion. A nightmare. Do you really want to live in a world filled with chaos? Where everyone serves themselves instead of the greater good? Where everything is unpredictable?”

“I want a w
orld filled with freedom,” he replied.

“Do you really
? Do you want to make all those difficult decisions for yourself? Do you think you can? The Ancients couldn’t. Don’t be misled into thinking their world was some sort of paradise. It was madness. Unhappiness was rampant. Everyone was dissatisfied. Depressed. There was no harmony, no justice. No peace or tranquility. They were traumatized by decisions they were ill-equipped to make.”

“They had books,” Brita said, trying her best to twist free.

“Books? What good did that ever do them? Books only made people want what they couldn’t have. Made them discontented, unhappy. Gave them ideas. The Sentinel’s world is a far better place, and if you hadn’t been influenced by these Rebels you’d realize that.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said firmly
. And he didn’t. He didn’t know why, but just as surely as he had known anything since this adventure began, he knew that the words the Acolyte spoke were false. “You’re wrong.”