Chapter 14
The very same evening, Dohan took the elevator to the aircraft hangar at the top floor of the castle.
(Tonight he'd take the "Chick Magnet" for a cruise... and he just knew he was gonna get lucky.)
The dozen jet-engine craftsmen present were not surprised to see Dohan; he was an avid follower of their work with the family arsenal of flying armor and vessels.
("Oh no, he's back!" - "Please don't hit us again!" - "Let the terror end!")
They greeted him casually, and continued their maintenance shift. Dohan inspected his own private training vehicle: a teardrop-shaped beauty with two small jet-tubes at the tips of sloping, thick wings.
(Strangely, watching the vehicle made him think of how Britney Spears had gone to seed.)
It was a two-seater - but it could never fly from Castilia to Kap Verita on a single load of fuel.
(Ever since he "pimped" his ride, it guzzled twice as much.)
And once he got away, Lord Damon might alert his allies via the laser transmission network. If Dohan tried to land for refueling, he would be caught and arrested.
([Stern voice]"Refueling is a capital offense in these parts, mister!")
The family had a few well-used transporter jets, for carrying troops and trading merchandise - bulky, reliable, but slow and not with enough range. Besides, taking one would leave the city too vulnerable.
(The city could not survive one day's fuel surplus! At least, that's what his Dad told him.)
Dohan was left with one choice. Their private family flagship and battle fighter through forty years, Lord Damon's pride: the Sunray. Twenty tons of shining, sleek steel and aluminum, with an expansion tank that could last halfway around the world.
(...can be yours, if The Price Is Right!)
Its cabin, unlike most other Castilian aircraft, was pressurized and no oxygenmasks were needed. The Sunray also sported an air-cooled front laser cannon, and a turret-mounted tail gun.
(And a bitchin' paint job by Coop!)
The ship could house up to seven seats, but Dohan needed just two.
He checked with the craftsmen; they assured him the Sunray was in perfect working order. Dohan called for their full attention, and explained that since they had done such good work with his battle armor, and helped him win the Joust, he and his father wanted to reward them.
("Free porridge for everybody!")
Dohan handed each of them a gold coin, and gave them early leave. The staff bowed, thanked him heartily, and left the hangar in a happy mood.
(*Mutter* "One lousy coin..." *Grumble* "Take your pennies and shove'em...")
As soon as the men were out of hearing range, Dohan began to pump synthetic fuel into the Sunray's expansion tank. The guards, standing outside, saw nothing.
("Nothing just entered the premises. Sound the alarm!")
The sun had set by the time he was finished, and he was getting tired from the heavy work.
(He was used to having servants carry things, and he had broken a fingernail.)
From a toolbox, Dohan took the item he needed to free Darc.
The castle lamps were subdued, which hardly bothered the robot - it had infrared vision, and had just recharged its battery cells. Lachtfot recognized Dohan's voice immediately.
("Wilderness Girls!")
"Good evening, Lachtfot."
"Good evening, my lord."
"Let me in. I must see if Darc is well."
"Sir Darc is very sick and must not be disturbed, my lord."
(Too late... he already is deeply disturbed!)
"I will not awake him; just let me have a look." Dohan stepped closer to the door. The machine-servant blocked the door-handle with one firm metal hand.
([Computer voice] "Do - you - want - a - piece - of - me?")
"I must ask Bor Damon for permission to let you inside, my lord. He does not want be awakened iiiIIIP!!"
Dohan slammed a concave piece of aluminum, a miniature mirror, onto the visorplate of the robot's head - and held it there. The light-beams from Lachtfot's eye-sensors were reflected by the mirror, bounced back into them, were sent out again, reflected and bounced back, and so on.
(... and so on and so on.)
Within a second, this feedback of signals caused an epileptic fit in the robot's brain - it lost its balance and clattered to the floor, flailing its limbs helplessly.
(Yep, it runs on Windows.)
Quickly, Dohan sneaked into Darc's quarters and shrugged him awake.
(Picture him standing by the bed, shrugging: "I don't care. Not my problem. What can I do?")
Darc, though very tired, instantly grasped the situation and staggered to his feet.
("Mo-oom! That creepy old man took my situation!")
Dohan took Darc's diary and his few belongings, and helped him out into the elevator. They managed to get into the hangar bay unseen.
("What luck! All 200 guards looked the other way.")
Supported on Dohan's strong arms, Darc stumbled up the cargo ramp into the rear section of the Sunray. He was buckled up in a couch seat, and given some drink from a bottle.
"How far will we travel?" Darc asked in a faint voice.
("Oh, the 24-hour pharmacy lies just around the corner.")
"South of the land of Espa," the young pilot replied. As he spoke, Dohan fastened himself to his pilot seat, checking and starting up the ship's engines. "I have taken the controls a few times on this ship," he explained, "but my father has much more experience flying the Sunray."
("Actually, he just let me sit in the pilot seat. The plane stood on the ground. On my fifth birthday.")
He turned in his seat, and gave Darc an encouraging smile. "Have no worry, Darc. I am certain you must be under the Goddess's special protection."
(He is under her contraceptive??)
When the engines started, filling the ship cabin with vibrations and noise, Darc began to suspect the trip might in fact shorten his life span by several days. But he held on to life all he could.
([Sings]"It's my life, don't you forget...")
As soon as Bor understood what had happened, he barked orders at his staff:
(*ARF!* *ARF!* *RRRUFF!*)
"Prepare a carrier for pursuit! Alert our allies - they must not fire at the ship, whatever happens! And - if news of this reaches our enemies, every man in this castle will be banished to the Wastelands!"
("No! Anywhere but Iraq!")
His family members comforted each other through the night, anxiously awaiting the news of Dohan and Darc's whereabouts.
("WROOOOOOM!!")
The aircraft effortlessly climbed up through the dark clouds, until he could put it at a steady altitude of about 10,000 meters.
("If you look to our right, you can see the belly of Harry Knowles rise above the Atlantic horizon, and Guillermo Del Toro's stomach to the south...")
He accelerated it to top speed - below the speed of sound - and set a straight southwestern course toward Kap Verita. Dohan estimated the flight would take little more than four hours.
(Tax-free goods would be on sale.)
Cabin pressure was steady, with plenty of oxygen to spare. He switched on the autopilot and unbuckled himself from the seat, suppressing a yawn.
(We know just how he feels!)
Until this moment, Dohan had managed to avoid thinking about what would happen after Darc was saved; now the gravity of his own situation was beginning to sink in.
("Oh no... 1.0 G !")
To escape such gloomy prospects, he went over to Darc and helped him loose.
Dohan sat down on a wall seat and asked: "Darc, tell me about the world in your time. Was it like Librian taught us - a Golden Age?"
("Is it true that a village idiot ruled the world back then?")
The white-haired man chuckled, turned his head to watch the troubled youngster next to him, and said: "Yes... and no. In many ways it was worse, in many ways better. We never conquered the stars - or perhaps that happened after I was frozen, I don't know.
("I am totally without a clue.")
"In my days, the Goddess and the Singing King were just people - they were worshipped of course, but we didn't think of them as gods - not yet."
(I won't make a riff on that because obviously he's trying to sugarcoat history.)
He sighed, thinking of all he had left behind - and what Dohan must have left behind in order to save him.
"Dohan... do you have a girl waiting for you back home? You know - someone special?"
("Because I'm not going to kiss you, and that's final!")
Dohan's brow wrinkled - his parents had constantly been reminding him about the matter of marriage for the past two years.
("Are you gay, son?")
"I have not decided upon a wife yet, no. Soon, my parents will arrange a bride for me." He made an excusing grin, and added: "I mean, there have been women in my life - nothing official, of course. The women of our cities, they..."
([Effeminate voice]"They frighten me!")
"They are not pretty? I think they are."
("And I think they do! Nudge, nudge...")
"Yes, but... I am born a nobleman, a protector of the city. Everyone expects me to be and act my father. He is so... I love and respect him, but I cannot..."
(... find your balls?)
"You cannot be him."
Dohan was greatly relieved.
("Thank God for Preparation H!")
Here was another man he could talk to without feeling the burden of his own authority - someone who did not grovel, nor answer with platitudes of duty and destiny.
He eagerly went on: "Yes, that's it! And when I try to talk to a lady about this, she turns less interested... she only sees my power, my position, but she does not see me. Sometimes I think our city is... a prison."
("What with the sign 'PRISON' above the locked front gates...")
Darc shook his head slowly, chuckling again. Dohan frowned.
"You think it sounds strange?" he said nervously.
(Everything you say sounds strange.)
"No, you are perfectly normal. Just like any well-bred young man in my time. Your father should be proud of you. Trust me."
Dohan's sinking spirits soared again; he was not sure how this was going to end, but once more he was certain he was doing what was right.
(Yes, we have a new world record: the word "was" used 5 times in a single short sentence!)
(*BONG!* *BONG!* *CLANG!* *BRRRRINNG!* *WIO-WIO-WIO...*)
He looked out; the sun was rising over the glittering ocean. The Kap Verita archipelago lay straight ahead; he took the jet craft into a slight dive for a closer sweep.
(*SPLOOSH!* The End.)
As he banked the ship down to one side, he could discern ten or more jagged, gray-brown islands of various shapes and sizes - scattered over a stretch of a few hundred kilometers. To the north, a faint plume of smoke was emerging from the highest mountain peak of a larger island.
(They had discovered Jamaica!)
Dohan turned the Sunray in a wide orbit over the southern string of islands; within a few minutes, he was circling the largest and greenest piece of land there. The landscape below was full of ridges and sharp peaks, but there were no apparent signs of active civilization.
A city ruin, with traces of streets and a harbor, was all that suggested people had once lived there.
(Welcome to Detroit!)
There were outlines of terraced fields - but they could be abandoned, for all he knew. Dohan did not give up, though; witchdoctors and their associates were said to be secretive.
He brought the craft down to the harbor ruins, and landed in the shadow of a high cliff.
("De plane, mister! De plane!")
Flocks of squeaking seagulls scattered into the clear sky, as the jet craft stirred up clouds of dust among their nests. Dohan watched them fly off; never had he seen so many birds at once!
(Never before had so many birds crapped on his head!)
In his homeland, most birds had been exterminated centuries ago. Dohan went to the aft section, and helped Darc free himself from the couch.
("The couch may take the load of our reclining bodies, but it will never take our FREEDOM!!")
From the armory cabinet, he took a heavy laser rifle, a polished shield, a reflective visor helmet - and a light sword.
"I shall go out and scout the terrain for signs of people. There is water and food here.
("But the toilet is blocked.")
I have a special key to open the aft port - if anyone tries to force his way inside, just stay here. If you have to, use the cannons, but then you risk overheating the cabin." He felt at Darc's forehead - it was hot and moist with fever.
("Hot, and moist, with throbbing veins..." - "HEY! Take your hands off my forehead!")
"Darc, you must try to stay alive. The Goddess will watch over you."
("The Force of her Bosom will be with you always!")
"Thanks," Darc said wearily. "'Let's be careful out there.'"
([Chorus hums the Hill Street Blues Theme])
"What?" Dohan could not understand the English phrase.
"Nothing," Darc smiled. "A joke. Go. I'll be fine."
Dohan put on the helmet and slid the reflecting visor down over his eyes. He walked over to the aft port, and pulled the lever that caused the cargo ramp to extend down to the ground.
(*CLANG!*)
Quickly, he opened the port and stepped out into the blazing sun - shutting the port after him. Left alone in the ship, Darc drifted into a wavering sleep. He felt as if he had not days, but hours left before the virus had drained all life from him.
Should I pray to the Goddess or to God? he thought ironically.
(Or to the Reader? Or to the Author? Now that's irony.)
DARC AGES (c)A.R.Yngve 1995, 2000, 2004. All rights reserved. May not be copied without permission.
______________
A.R.Yngve
The MSTing Of
DARC AGES
Book One
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("Brrrmm, brrrm-brrrmm...")
Dohan approached Lachtfot, who stood posted outside Darc's chamber-door.
The Sunray roared out of the hangar bay; the noise awakened the entire castle, and the city as well.
Dohan increased the Sunray's speed carefully, so that the acceleration would not harm Darc.
The autopilot's clock rang, waking Dohan from his slumber.
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