Chapter 6
“Escape or Die”
Sentinels heard rattling and murmuring. They raised their weapons and followed the noise. The one Sentinel peeked into a chamber… and saw the Piddling shaman standing in front of a terminal waving his wand and chanting. The little shaman looked over his shoulder and smiled. He continued his ritual. The Sentinel stepped into the chamber, enquiring, “Piddling, what are you doing?”
The shaman turned around. He answered the Sentinel, “Mojo helps the Keepers. He does what he is told to do. He is making the energy flow better.”
The Sentinel told her sisters, “It’s just the Piddling doing his thing.” The woman told the little shaman, “Don’t leave this chamber until called.”
“Mojo has tasks to do.”
“Don’t leave the chamber until cleared to do so. Do you understand?”
“Mojo understands.”
The Sentinels moved on. Mojo waited before sneaking out of the chamber. He tucked his wand into the waist of his loincloth and climbed up to where he knew Vain Glory was hiding. The Mystic spotted him. She arched an eyebrow when he smiled and waved at her. He crawled to her. She noted, “You are not deceived by my veil.”
“Mojo sees beyond the apparent.”
“So it would seem.”
“Miss Glory needs my help. Her companions need my help. I will help.”
“You expect us to take you with us?”
“Yes! I am a great shaman! Mojo is the equal of Lady Dolorous. He shall not be the slave of her slaves.”
“You know a way out?”
“Yes!”
Against her better judgment Vain Glory liked this little rascal. Though she loathed him for his infidelity she admired him for his yearning for freedom. He was as bold as a fighter and as wily as a scout. His magic was that of a sage. Perhaps it was wrong of her to disdain him. Perhaps he was indeed worthy of her respect.
Mojo could feel the feelings of Vain Glory. He heard her thoughts as if hearing his own. The little Piddling choked as he confided, “I sought deliverance and I found you. You came to me as I knew you would.” A tear leaked from the shaman’s eye. He smiled, “You are a friend unto all who are friendly. Mojo is your friend.”
The heart of Vain Glory swelled. Her blood warmed and her fear burned away. “You shall be free,” she swore. “Come with us. Show us the way out that we may bring you with us.”
“We must wait.”
“No, we must hurry lest we be found.”
The Piddling grinned, “We must wait.”
“Why?”
“Our friends must be sneaky if they are to join us.”
Miss Glory insisted, “I must go to them if they are to join us.”
Mojo shook his head. He assured, “Dr. Clarity sees what I see and hears what I hear. He shall follow the path I have revealed to him.”
“There can be no path. The Sentinels are too many. They are everywhere.”
The Piddling explained, “I have made twelve marks in my own blood. The Sentinels glimpse movement and hear noises when the magic of my blood is burned. The Sentinels are drawn to where there is nothing to find. Our friends slip past them.”
“You are an illusionist?”
“I am many things.”
The Sentinel Lucy Red the Observant noticed a swirl painted in red. The mark flashed into oblivion and everyone glimpsed an indistinct movement nearby. The other Sentinels moved to chase after it. “Wait!” Lucy commanded them. She touched the side of her goggles-communicator, hailing, “This is Lucy Red, over.”
A voice like her own responded, “Report, Lucy Red.”
“I happened upon a swirl painted in what appeared to be red blood. The mark flashed into oblivion and induced me and my squad to glimpse what I believe was a fleeting sensory manipulation.”
“Standby, Lucy Red.” A moment passed before every Sentinel heard, “Alert! Alert! Sensory manipulation detected! Red, spiral glyph will ignite and induce illusory visual, audio or olfactory stimuli.”
“No chasing phantasms,” Lucy commanded her squad. She led them around a corner… and found herself face-to-face with a big, greenish gray brute brandishing a stormgun! A stream of plasma bolts tore through the squad of Sentinels! The women dropped en masse.
Every Sentinel in the area converged on the loud, rapid report. Big-Big blazed away, mowing down every drove that came into view. “Onward!” Mojo directed him from behind. Big-Big streamed bolts into a crowded corridor, carpeting its floor with bodies.
Vain Glory was slashing and stabbing the Sentinels who poured out of an adjoining corridor. “Come!” Dr. Clarity called to her. The last of a drove fell at Miss Glory’s feet before she rejoined her companions.
Mojo guided his new companions into a chamber. “Step through!” he pointed at a wall marked with a glyph of red streaks. Everyone dashed through the wall as easily as if it was not there at all. The mark then flashed into oblivion. Sentinels poured into the chamber… but their quarry had eluded them.
Maxeen Purple the Vigilant reported, “The signatures of the spells cast are identical and match that of your shaman. Milady, your Piddling betrayed us.”
Lady Dolorous laughed. “You accuse a slave of betrayal? It is the nature of the lesser to serve the greater. It is only natural that the Piddling should bend to the will of Mystics. Return him to me and he shall prove as faithful and useful as before.”
“Milady, shall I require our Sentinels to mind their shooting?”
“No. We shall not impede our Sentinels with needless concerns.”
“Understood, milady.”
Mojo brought everyone into a chamber whose walls were marked with streaks, spots and swirls or red, blue or yellow. “These marks are made strong by the winds of the Silent Storm,” the shaman told his companions. “They are the winds for which this edifice was built. They are the power Lady Dolorous meant to use against you. That power shall hide us and protect us until the storm breaks.”
Dr. Clarity stated, “The phenomenon shall cease at dusk.”
“Yes, the storm is soon to break.”
“Your spells that hide us now shall become a glaring beacon.” Dr. Clarity urged Big-Big, “Lay down your weapon and rest, my friend. Your vigor must be at its utmost if it is to avail us.”
Dr. Clarity said unto the Piddling, “Mr. Mojo, you have done much for our sake. Your aid has delivered us from an otherwise inescapable evil. Rest, my friend: that the strength of your magic may return to you.”
Dr. Clarity turned to Miss Glory. He told her, “Our hidey hole is soon to become a deathtrap. Find us a way out of this edifice. Do not bother seeking access to the aircraft for they are undoubtedly too heavily guarded. Simply find us a way out. We shall seek our refuge in the jungles beyond these walls.”
Miss Glory mentioned, “It is likely I must venture far. It is unlikely the route shall be straight and easy. We must be swift if I find a way out. Be ready when I return.”
“Miss Glory, we shall be as ready as we are able.”
The Convent of Bosky was heavily guarded but it was not a military facility. Most of its people were Concubine Laborers, the Girls in Pink. Vain watched from above as a prattling, giggling group of these unarmed civilians passed her. She dropped behind them and followed them. They passed Concubine Sentinels standing guard. A group of prattling Girls in Blue crossed their path. Vain followed the Girls in Blue.
Women were so small and childlike. These Girls in Blue prattled and giggled as readily and easily as those in pink.
Concubine Sentinels stood at their posts, silent, erect and without fidgeting. Though made in the likeness of the same woman as their sisters in pink or blue, their bearing was so different. Were Sentinels as silly as the other clones when not on duty?
The Concubine Keepers led Vain into a control room. Outside the windows of the control room was a vaulted garage below. Trucks and other vehicles were parked in rows or suspended for storage or maintenance. Vain Glory was trained
in the operation of such machines. Dr. Clarity could undoubtedly open one of the garage doors from this control room.
Miss Glory returned to her companions. She reported, “The way is too well guarded for any of you to sneak past. You must follow me as I clear the way.”
Dr. Clarity asked Mojo, “Where to these trucks go?”
“The road becomes many roads to outposts and gardens.”
“Gardens?” Miss Glory was surprised to hear.
Dr. Clarity explained, “The Concubines make use of indigenous flora and fauna for research and for sustenance.” He asked Mojo, “Do any of these outposts have an aircraft?”
“Yes. Outpost 9 has its own entomopter. Outpost 9 is along the river and has motorboats too.”
“An aircraft and motorboats: yes, we shall be visiting Outpost 9.”
A Sentinel was standing at her post… when suddenly pounced from above! Miss Glory signaled for her companions to follow her down. They climbed down, none of them as nimble as their scout.
The companions hid and waited whenever their scout made to clear their way. When they could see, they watched as the towering Mystic snatched or struck the unwary little women. The human Sentinels were simply useless against Vain Glory.
Concubine Keepers were in a control room when a big, burly, scaly alien barged in! He growled and brandished a stormgun. “Peace,” a male Mystic entered the room. “All of you stand with your hands behind your head.” The Girls in Blue timidly and immediately complied. The Mystic went to each one and plucked the communicator from her uniform. “Mr. Mojo, would you and Big-Big please escort these women to the storage closet?”
Vain snuck her way into the spacious garage. She found herself behind yet another Concubine Sentinel. The Girl in Red stood at her post, dutiful and useless… when hands suddenly pressed against the sides of her head! The Sentinel winced in silence as she sank to the floor.
Vain had many vehicles to choose from. There was even a jeep with a stormgun mounted on its roll-bar. Vain slashed the tires of the jeep and sabotaged its controls. She happened upon a row of legged construction vehicles. She was relieved not to find any signs of the Virgin Army’s bipedal main battle tank: a weapons system too cramped within for a Mystic to operate. Such a weapon could easily negotiate the forested terrain should the party be forced to flee into the jungle on foot.
Vain returned her attention to the many trucks. She chose an eight-wheeler with a spacious cabin and an open bed. A door of the garage opened. Vain waited for her companions to join her.
“Into the back,” Dr. Clarity told Big-Big. “Lie flat on your belly. Do not rise lest we are chased or fired upon.” Big-Big climbed up into the back of the truck.
Miss Glory, Mr. Mojo and Dr. Clarity climbed into the cabin. The Mystics were taller than what was meant for a human vehicle but were limber enough to be comfortable. The Piddling’s toes barely touched the floor. The vehicle lurched forward and sped out of the garage. “Drive slower,” Dr. Clarity advised, “lest we alert the guards needlessly.”
Most of the Sentinels outside had their backs to the vehicle as it passed them. Even the guards at the gate did not discern that it was a Mystic driving.
The truck cruised off the grounds of the convent and into the jungle beyond. The road was dirt and the ride somewhat bumpy. Dr. Clarity urged, “Miss Glory, the enemy shall soon learn of our mischief. Let us make haste.” The engine hummed louder and the ride became quite bouncy as the truck sped dangerously fast. The Mystics remained calm as if all was well. The Piddling worried he might get sick.
Unlike the other twelve outposts, Outpost 9 was a security station. It was the garrison of three hundred ninety-six Virgin Soldiers; three hundred sixty of them Girls in Red. The Girls in Blue here were not the civilians wearing the cowl and miniskirt but rather soldiers wearing the blue version of elastic body shirt with fixed goggles worn by Sentinels.
The planet Bosky was a disputed world. In accordance with the Treaty of Bosky, the Concubine presence was not equipped with artillery, combat aircraft or bipedal main battle tanks. The three patrol boats launched from Outpost 9 had nothing heavier than stormguns and grenade launchers. The Beetle-type 8 entomopter parked on the grounds of the station was completely unarmed.
The Sentinel Marsha Red the Watchful commanded Outpost 9. She was in the command tower when receiving orders to be on the lookout for escaped belligerents. It was noted the hostiles were in a stolen truck. Marsha issued orders and relayed the information to her women. She watched from her tower as a truck sped onto the grounds of the station!
Plasma bolts pelted the truck and shattered its windows. Tires burst but the vehicle kept trudging along. Big-Big rose from the back, blazing streams of plasma bolts into the many Sentinels. More Girls in Red started pouring out of the prefabricated buildings.
A Sentinel hopped in front of the metal shield barrier of a stormgun emplacement and swung the weapon around. She streamed bolts into the intruding truck. The vehicle’s engine burst into flames. Smoke filled the cabin. Mojo screamed! The truck lumbered towards the parked entomopter. Dr. Clarity cautioned, “Do not crash into the aircraft.” The truck died as if hearing him.
Big-Big stayed in the back of the burning vehicle, blazing away as his friends ran to the entomopter. He then jumped out and hurried to join them, still shooting all the while.
The hard outer wings of the entomopter eventually opened and the hind wings unfolded and rapidly flapped. There was a resonant hum and the aircraft shot into the air and across the river. Plasma bolts pelted the entomopter as it made its escape but to no avail.
Dr. Clarity joined his companions in the back of the aircraft. He assured them, “We have escaped.”
Miss Glory worried, “Dragonfly-type interceptors can easily overtake us and shoot us down.”
“Yes. Fortunately the Treaty of Bosky forbids such a possibility. Lest the Concubines prove uncharacteristically treacherous we have escaped them. Soon we shall be landing among friends.”
Dr. Clarity told the Piddling, “We accomplished our mission without you. We live to tell of it because of you. Mr. Mojo, I thank you.”
The Piddling blurted, “I want to be free! Shall I be free among your people?”
“You shall have amnesty should you choose to remain with us. Oblige me and you shall have a place in the Academy of Magic.”
“What does Dr. Clarity mean?”
“Mr. Mojo, you are a sage. Teach. I ask you to share your wisdom that my people shall be the wiser for it.”
“Teach?”
Dr. Clarity nodded. “I am a professor at the Confederate Academy of Magic. You have my endorsement to teach as my peer and colleague.”
The Piddling sobbed. Vain Glory snuggled him. Big-Big smiled, his fangs not offsetting the friendliness of his countenance whatsoever.
Miss Glory worried, “Our laws and customs are what they are, Dr. Clarity. I hope you are not presuming beyond your influence.”
Ambiguous Clarity smirked, “Our laws are whatever my friends in power want them to be. Our customs are legitimized by clout. My promises shall be kept by power and influence beyond my own, I assure you.”
Vain Glory assured Mojo, “You may live with me if you are not pleased with what is promised.”
Dr. Clarity insisted, “Your quaint village is no place for a restless mind, my dear. What I offer is preferable for one such as Mr. Mojo.”
Lady Dolorous was out on a balcony, watching as a dot in the distance disappeared over the horizon. The Penumbran smiled.
The Silent Storm was breaking and the crystal ball meant to make use of it was broken: a great opportunity was lost. Four hundred Concubine Sentinels and a dozen Phantom swordsmen were dead, for nothing. A valuable slave was gone. “Ambiguous Clarity, you have bested me,” Dolorous the Enticing admitted allowed. He heard her as she knew he would.
Dolorous the Enticing of the Early Light loved Ambiguous Clarity. She adored him, as thrilled by his success as she was pained by
her own grievous failure. Alas, her something had succumbed to nothing.
The sages of the galaxy returned home, safe and sound. They told of the gracious hospitality of Lady Dolorous. They openly wondered why the Mystic Ambiguous Clarity acted against her.
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