torg 02 - The Dark Realm (11 page)

to your government," Albury explained. "I don't know how much of your story — sketchy though it is — I believe, but we've been having troubles of our own. We've lost contact with Indonesia. There's a massive storm front surrounding the islands that we've been unable to fly through. And worse, there are reports of... things attacking people along the coast. These are damn strange times we're living in."

"We need transportation across the continent, captain," Bryce said. "And then, if possible, some kind of vehicle to get us to Borneo."

"Like a gyroplatform or a jump boat," Mara added.

"Well, yes," Albury said, throwing Mara a strange look. "Perhaps you didn't understand me. We cannot contact or get near Borneo or any of the other islands. The storms, you know."

"I'll take them," said one of the men who was with Albury. Bryce looked at the man. He was around the priest's age, but taller and in better shape. He dressed like a mannequin from a Banana Republic clothing store, but his clothes looked more functional than stylish.

"Now listen, Tom," Albury began. "I let you sit in on this because you seemed to know what was happening, but I can't just let you ..."

"Who are you?" Tolwyn asked the man, cutting off the Australian officer curtly.

"My name is Tom O'Malley, ma'am," he offered, extending his hand. "The aborigine sent me to fetch you and your companions."

"Aborigine?" Tolwyn asked, confused.

"An aborigine is a native of this continent," Bryce explained quickly. "A black-skinned person who ..." He stopped, realizing what he just said.

"A black man? With white hair? And a missing tooth?

And a hole in his tongue?" Tolwyn asked excitedly.

"Yes, ma'am," O'Malley nodded. "That sounds like Djil to me."

"You will take us to him," Tolwyn said, gripping Tom with strong hands. It was not a question.

Albury stepped between them, shaking his head. "This is damn irregular," he commented. "I can't let you go off alone with a civilian. What would my superiors say? Hell, what would your country say?"

"Then you will come with us," Tolwyn decided. Without further comment, she reached for her gear.

"But..." Albury started to say.

Kurst leaned close to Albury. "It is for the best, captain."

Bryce grinned at the exchange. Finally, someone else for the group to steamroller. He walked over to O'Malley. "How do you propose to do this, Tom?"

"I have a plane, Father," Tom explained. "It's fueled and ready to go."

"Then by all means," Bryce said, "lead the way."

40

Covent and his men entered the Sequoia National Forest carefully, expecting lizards to leap out of the tall, massive trees as they walked beneath them. But the forest was quiet, and nothing leaped out to attack them.

"Okay, Houston, have the units range out in close patrol patterns. If we keep the storm to our right, they shouldn't be able to sneak up on us," Covent said.

"Roger, Charlie," Houston shot back. "Do you think the rest of the units will reach us before the dance begins?"

The dance. Houston had such a way with words. Covent, however, did not have the ability to mask

meanings under less offensive language. So he told the truth. "I don't know, Joey. But as of now, it's just us, so let's keep it together."

The lead units ranged ahead, moving on foot because the forest wasn't designed to allow heavy vehicles to move through it easily. Between the ash-filled sky and the nearby storm front, it was dark in the forest. This made the men nervous, but they concentrated on the task before them and seemed to be handling it okay.

An explosion sounded in the distance, and Covent tried to see what was happening through his binoculars. "Raise the units, Houston," Covent ordered. "I want to know what's happening."

More explosions sounded, and Covent could hear screams coming from his men. Damn! What had they blundered into?

"I've got Blue Three on the horn, Charlie," Houston informed him as he passed over the radio.

"Blue Three, what's your situation?" Covent demanded.

"We're in some kind of mine field, lieutenant," the voice on the radio said. "Blue Two's taken the brunt of it, but the rest of us are sitting tight until we can figure a way out of this."

"What kind of mines, soldier?" Covent asked. "Surely the lizards aren't using land mines?"

"I don't know what they are, sir. But they seemed to be tied into some strange plants. As a matter of fact, I think the plant is in a small Dead Ring because I can't raise Blue Two on the box. I can see a few survivors, but their radio isn't responding."

"Hold your position, Blue Three. And keep me informed if anything changes." Covent replaced the radio and scanned the area with his binoculars.

"Exploding plants? Small Dead Rings? How can we light this stuff, Charlie?" Houston asked.

"As best we can, sergeant," Covent replied. "As best

we can."

41

Angus Cage felt himself emerge from a tunnel of light, felt the cascading energy roll off his body like water when he emerged from a swimming pool. He felt disconnected, light-headed. It took a moment for his vision to clear, for his senses to resume their job of telling his mind what was going on around him. When they did start working again, Cage found himself in a large warehouse filled with endless rows of wooden crates. The Mystery Men were sprawled around him, each shaking off the effects of the strange form of travel.

"The gate has collapsed, Cage," the Guardian said, suddenly appearing beside him. "Dr. Frest was one of the last ones through."

"How many?" Cage inquired, speaking through numb lips and deadened tongue.

"Approximately three score made it here," the Guardian answered.

Sixty? Only sixty of them? Cage sighed. Was that enough to dismantle Mobius' operation? He didn't have a clue.

Suddenly bright overhead lights snapped on, and Cage heard the sounds of several rifle bolts being thrown. It sounded like they were surrounded, but it was hard to see through the glare.

"Halt!" ordered a deep voice. It was a man, and he had a Middle Eastern accent.

"We're sorry for intruding," Cage heard Dr. Frest call out. "We did not mean to trespass."

Angus Cage checked his own weapon, desperately blinking his eyes so that they would clear. He could see shadowy forms now, perhaps a dozen men standing upon a catwalk above them.

"1 do not want to hear your excuses," the Middle Easterner shouted. "You can save them for the shocktroopers!"

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," the pretty Raven Wing yelled back. She was standing about five feet from Cage, wearing that black outfit he had always dreamed about. He pushed the thought out of his mind as she continued. "If you'll just direct us out of here, we'll be about our business."

"And what business is that, woman?" the man laughed, and his cohorts picked up the evil sound.

The Guardian decided to answer the Middle Easterner. "We seek Dr. Mobius."

The Middle Easterner laughed harder. He made a brief motion and his companions leveled their weapons on the Mystery Men.

"Look," Cage yelled up, deciding to cut through the tension before guns started blazing. "We don't want any trouble."

"It is too late, my friend," the Middle Easterner shouted. "You have found much trouble. Where do you think you are? This is one of Pharaoh Mobius' Royal Warehouses."

Angus Cage smiled. This was Mobius' property? That was all he needed to hear. He would figure out what this Pharaoh business was about later. "Okay, Mystery Men, you heard our hosts. This place belongs to Mobius."

"Then let's trash it!" Power Lad suggested. Cage wholeheartedly agreed.

The Middle Easterner and his goons, of course, had no say in the matter whatsoever. They didn't even put up that good of a fight.

42

Lieutenant Charles Covent approached the strange plant cautiously, placing his feet carefully into the moist soil. The forest was so alive, full of living noises that almost made him forget the situation he and his men were in. He had a walkie talkie, but as he got closer to the plant it had stopped working. He was sure his pistol and rifle were similarly incapacitated.

"Be careful, Charlie," Houston called from somewhere behind him. He had not agreed with Covent's tactics, but the lieutenant couldn't order any of his men to undertake this mission. It was something he had to do himself.

The plant was a lush, green color. It was about three feet high, with broad, four-pointed leaves. The leaves had an unusual pattern of orange dots that distinguished it from any other plant in the forest. Covent had been about twenty feet from it when his walkie talkie failed. The closer he moved toward it, the more he had to fight the urge to discard his clothing and howl at the storm. The plant's scent called up primal images in the lieutenant's mind which he was finding harder and harder to ignore.

"This is very weird, Joey," he shouted back, but the words seemed to lose meaning right after he said them. He was beginning to forget what he was coming to do. The grass felt so inviting beneath his feet. He paused, imagining himself rolling in it, getting its fresh smell all over his body.

"Lieutenant?" Houston called. "Are you all right,

Charlie?"

Charles Covent blinked once, twice. He ran his hand over his face. Did someone call him?

"Lieutenant?" Houston said again, louder this time, more forceful.

"I hear you, Joey," Covent said at last. He reached down and drew his knife from his boot sheath. He had to do this quickly, while it was fresh in his mind.

He had to kill the plant.

He wasn't sure if that was what he had set out to do. He thought maybe he had come to examine it, to see what effects it would have on him. Now he knew. It was a dangerous plant. It was the lizards' plant.

The knife led him forward, its sharp point held before him at the ready position. One step. Then another.

"I'm going to kill it, Joey," he yelled.

"Charlie, come back here," Houston shouted. "We can blast it from here. Don't go any closer!"

A third step. Covent kept going. Joey didn't understand the effect the plant was having on him. If he didn't kill it now, he might not be able to get away from it. A fourth step.

Then the ground exploded, and all of Charles Covent's thoughts ceased.

43

Mara sat in the rear of the plane, adding more memories of Kadandra to the data plate she had carried from her world. When complete, the data plate would be able to invoke sensover memories of her homeworld, memories so real that she could immerse herself in them for hours at a time. She called up an image in her mind, then transferred it to her internal computer. There it was converted to data that she could laser onto the plate. The plate would enhance the image and connect it to the oilier images already placed upon the plate, forming a longer, more complete picture. It was hard work, but it gave her something to do during the slow periods.

This was a slow period.

Kurst sat across the aisle from her, staring out the window intensely. He didn't show it, but she could tell that he was growing more tense the closer they got to Orrorsh. Something over there frightened him, perhaps something he didn't even remember. But his subconscious remembered, and it was sending him vague, undecipherable warnings. At least that was her guess.

Tolwyn was asleep in the seat in front of him, conserving her strength for when it would be needed. Christopher was in the cockpit, talking with Tom O'Malley and Captain Albury. She hoped the two newest members of their group weren't doomed to suffer as the other pilots had. Or as Alder had. Or Decker.

She shivered when she thought of Decker. She had never seen such a state before, although it did remind her of the volunteers at the institute. When plugged in to provide their energy to the transference cylinder, they were in a coma-like state much like Decker was in. But they volunteered to enter such a condition. Decker had been forced into his by the Carredon.

Mara put away the data plate and strolled toward the cockpit. She had had enough of memories for the time being. O'Malley was at the controls of the plane, and Father Bryce was standing behind him. Albury was in the copilot's chair, but he didn't appear to be helping in any way.

"How much longer?" she asked.

"We've still got a ways to go," O'Malley said. "But we will be stopping in the Northern Territory to take on fuel."

Mara regarded the pilot with curiosity, adjusting her lens filter to discern the Storm Knight energy. As she supposed, Tom O'Malley glowed with the blue and red energy.

"Why are you helping us, Tom O'Malley?" she asked.

O'Malley considered the question briefly. Then he answered Mara. "A feeling, I guess. First, when the aborigine strolled in from the Outback, I felt he needed my assistance. Then, when I finally met you and your friends, I felt that it was important that you get to where you want to go."

"Do you always trust your feelings?" Bryce asked.

O'Malley smiled. "Always. Don't you?"

The plane began to descend then, dropping quickly as O'Malley guided it toward the ground.