Skrymers Glove

  ***

  Tjalfes trip down the corridor felt as if it took ages and ages. Although he knew in his mind that he had had no choice but to leave Skrymer to his fate, he still felt very bad. Even the most brutal and insane Yetten did not deserve to die. And certainly not like that. But there was nothing he could do. He´d made his choice and there was only way to go: forward. He ran as fast as he could in a state of shock and determination. He had to find a way out of here and he could not count on Thor or any of the others having the opportunity to bail him out again.

  The light in the corridor flickered and throughout the run down to the other end of the ship he repeatedly looked up, worried about its dangerous rippling effect that reminded him of the light at Fyrkat when everything went haywire for the first time several weeks ago and they ended up in the middle of a war they did not understand.

  Rainbow colored cascades of light flowed out from the inside of the hull and corrugated ever wilder from the walls and ceiling, as it grew still deeper inside the ship. He did not know quite what to make of it, but instinctively he was quite aware that something was completely off. Before long the undulating light would fill the interior of the ship and what ever happened then, he was sure, could not be good.

  He zigzagged while ducking his head from time to time in an effort to avoid running into the beams of light and gradually, as there was less and less room in the corridor, it was ever more difficult and he had to slow down, so as not to kill himself. Finally, he reached the end of the corridor and pushed the button to what he hoped would be the hangar where they kept the Farbauters. The door slid to the side with a grudging ‘skreetchsssj’ and revealed a huge compartment with a high ceiling. It was almost empty, as the commander had ordered all pilots to their fighters when Tjalfe and his friends had run the first time. He walked into the large room and prayed that there might be just one Farbauter left while he let his eyes touch the wall from one end to the other in a slow, searching movement. Fragments of various kinds covered the floor and scattered in small groups there were bodies of Yetten soldiers lying around, looking as if they had been dead for days. Tjalfe noted that those closest to where he was standing, had a sad shade of blue in their faces and he remembered an incident some years ago when one of the men from the village had fallen into the mud by accident as they built the great bridge across the marsh. The man had been standing in one of the holes where the large wooden pillars were meant to be the main supporters for the bridge when the stiffening boards on the inside of the pit suddenly collapsed giving way to the bog water and mud, which practically swallowed him up in a matter of seconds. When they were able to pull him up, he had drowned. He had the same cold blue-black color in his face, Tjalfe now saw in the faces of Yetten soldiers staring reproachfully up at him. Back then, Tjalfes father had explained to him that this was the color, a person would get when drowning, but here inside the cruiser, there was no water to drown in and he couldn´t figure out what ever could have made their faces this color?

  At last Tjalfe´s eyes found what they were searching for. At the very end of the hangar room, furthest away from the large door to freedom, there was a Farbauter sparkling in competition with Tjalfe´s relieved eyes. He almost stumbled his feet as he started running to it, while being thrilled to observe that the flickering light had not yet breached to the hangar. He sped up and jumped over the various obstacles between him and the Farbauter. Dead Yetten warriors, dropped weapons and destroyed equipment were passed with ease as he approached his salvation.

  Suddenly he heard the whistle of a strong wind that hit him hard and threw him a few meters back! The wind stopped blowing in one stroke when he landed, and he took no time to speculate on the cause of the wind, but simply fought to his feet and continued his run. Whoosh! Once again his body was pulled backwards and again the wind stopped, almost before it had begun. This time he stayed down and crawled on all four while grabbing hold of whatever he could reach in its path and with a massive render of determination he fought against the gusts of wind that started and stopped, as if someone had put huge bellows in the other end of the hangar. With a final effort, he pulled himself all the way to the Farbauter, grabbed the landing gear and with difficulty he got himself pulled up to the top and slid down into the cockpit head first. He resisted the urge to rest after his efforts, ignoring the pain in his body that made ​​it hard to get positioned right in the pilot´s seat in the front of the Farbauter. He hovered his hand over the console, as he had seen Loki do it, but nothing happened...

  Then he remembered what Freya and Sif had said when they talked about Loki and trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. Only a Yetten could use the consoles! Now what? He looked out the window and got an idea. He released the safety belt. Out of the cockpit again, over the ship´s nose and with a thud, he landed on the hard floor. He uttered a sound of pain as his one hand hit the floor in an awkward way. Then he crawled to a dead body close to the Farbauter and grabbed the arms of the fallen Yetten. It felt like it took hours to pull the corpse to the ship and he had absolutely no idea how to get him dragged the last bit of way over the top of the ship and into the cockpit. Meanwhile the flickering light began reaching inside the hangar with pulsating movements and he knew he had to move even faster. He felt a rush inside his body as adrenaline pumped new strength into his weary muscles and aching joints. Miraculously he managed to pull the Yetten, which had to weigh at least four times his own weight, up on his shoulders and balanced his way to the top of the Farbauter. Then he opened the hatch and let go of the Yetten. With a thump the body fell inside the cockpit with Tjalfe right after and then he glanced briefly at the hole, that was his only means of escape. Fortunately there had been none of the mysterious gusts of wind as he had trawled around with the Yetten balanced on his shoulders, but as he looked down to the end of the hangar, he found the reason why they´d even been there in the first place. Covering the huge gap an almost invisible force seemed to keep the air inside the ship. He hadn´t noticed it before, as he was busy trying to survive, but now as he sat safely inside the Farbauter, he could see how there was the occasional sparkling like a thunderstorm here and there inside the gap. And with each sparkling a strong gust of wind just above him and outside the Farbauter caused all kinds of stuff to slide across the floor and in some cases even lift a few feet above it like small frog like jumps. It was probably only a matter of time before the invisible force would collapse completely and let all the air rush out of the hangar.

  This was probably what had killed the bluish Yetten before the automatic systems had filled the hangar with air again. He grabbed a hand on the body and moved it over the console and with a sigh of relief he heard the beautiful sound of the engine starting up and the cockpit sliding down on top of him and the dead warrior shutting tight with a click. Apparently just in time, because shortly after the invisible wall of the hole to freedom collapsed. Every last bit of air left the hangar and rushed out into the black emptiness bringing everything with it that wasn´t firmly secured. Even the Farbauter moved in small jerks slowly sliding across the floor. It was time to get going - and fast!

  He moved his hands over the console hoping fervently that he had been paying enough attention to do what Loki had done and praying that only the start up sequence required a Yetten. This was difficult enough already without having to control the ship using the hand on the lifeless body resting lazily in the co-pilot´s seat beside him. Phew! He sighed with relief as the Farbauter rose precariously up and up. Little by little Tjalfe improved his control of the ship and jerked up the engine to full power. The Farbauter jolted forward and in a matter of seconds it slipped through the gap with ample space on all sides.

  He only just got out in the nothingness, when a wave of light thundered through the great ship and it exploded in all directions for a few seconds, and then sucked in on itself and disappeared into nothing. Tjalfe looked at the explosion and what he did not understand to be an implosion. A deep urge of releasing his re
lief went through his body and mind, but this was not a time for celebration - he wasn´t all out of the dark yet and didn´t have the luxury to just let go. Suddenly bursts of gun fire passed him from behind dangerously close to the hull.

  “Aargh!”

  Tjalfe jerked the controls and threw the Farbauter around in a downward short-arc, just big enough to avoid being hit by the next burst. Then he looked frantically around trying to spot where the fire came from.

  “Tjalfe?”

  Baldur´s voice over the radio sounded both surprised and pleased...