Chapter 17
Dohan sat out in the open, and was just finishing the shaving of his beard with a sharp knife, when a small rock hit the Sunray's hull. He grasped the knife as a weapon, ready to stave off the vandal - but saw nobody.
("You, Nobody! Don't come any closer!")
Another pebble bumped into the ship, bouncing off the front windshield. Somehow, he knew it was Meijji.
"Stop that!" he shouted at the hills. "Or I kill you!"
(Now he's threatening the landscape too!)
Meijji's head peeked down from a nearby cliff, and she yelled: "You haven't got the balls! And I'm too quick for you, clumsy paleface!"
("Black Power!")
Dohan's face went red with anger, and he rushed up the rocky slopes to catch her. He did not intend to kill Meijji, just bring her to her father - so that he could lock her up until he left this cursed island.
(Uh, so "he" refers to whom...?)
Meijji knew the island well; she skipped over crevices, hid in bushes, taunted him from a distance.
("You voted for Kerry! Nyah nyah!")
He ran, climbed, lunged at the girl who suddenly appeared and disappeared before and behind him - always one step ahead.
(The amazing Teleporting Girl!)
After having chased her for what seemed half an hour, Dohan was exhausted. He slumped down in the shadow of a palm-tree, breathless, and wiped his face. Fighting armored knights was child's play compared to this.
("Phew! Fighting armored knights is child's play compared to running uphill!")
Then - a low rustling from above caught his attention. He went taut, darted to his feet, gazed upward - and saw Meijji, clinging to the upper part of the tree trunk, staring down at him. He could glimpse her smooth thighs under the skirt.
(Like many upper-class males, he went abroad to do the peeping that would be frowned upon back home.)
Almost immediately, Dohan threw his weight against the elastic trunk, and shook it forcefully. The girl screamed, lost her hold, fell - and with a groan, he caught her in his thick arms.
(And she struck his thick head.)
"Let go of me!" she screamed. "If you rape me, the other women will cut off your balls and -"
("- and call D.A. Nifong!")
He hardened his grip to a bear hug, and she fell silent with a yelp of pain.
"By tomorrow or very soon," he explained in a hard terse voice, "I will have to leave my friend here and return to Castilia. I can never come back! What more do you want from me, madwoman?"
([Girly voice]"A brand new SUV would be nice...")
Meijji twisted in his grip, and faced him up close. She had tears in her eyes.
"I don't want you to leave," she said in a much softer tone. "I never said that."
("I only said you're ugly, stupid and you stink.")
He frowned, then looked into her brown eyes with wonder. She was incredibly beautiful. He wanted her more than anything else in the world.
Dohan wanted to say it, but instead he asked: "Is this another taunt?"
"No!"
"You want me to stay?" he shouted.
"Yes!" she cried.
"Why?"
(Indeed.)
She was speechless. He was about to let go of her - when she kissed him on the mouth. He responded without thinking, and they embraced each other. There was no need for further talk. For the better part of an hour, they were content with kissing and caressing each other. Later still, they grew bolder and made love at the foot of the palm-tree.
(If this had been one of those "Anita Bleak: Vampire Huntress" books, the author would've poured a bucket of blood and kink over the love scene.)
Meijji's passionate moans and Dohan's heavy breathing were nearly drowned out by the shrill song of the crickets.
(And the noisy calypso band playing in the background.)
Afterward, they rested in each other's arms, and the surrounding world ceased to exist in their minds.
(See, kids: love is like having Alzheimer's, except you don't die.)
Dohan could only perceive Meijji's lovely, vulnerable face. Meijji was only aware of him holding her.
("Darc, I have this this burning sensation in my crotch...")
"Darc, I cannot stay here any longer. By keeping the Sunray here, I am endangering my home."
"I understand. We leave as soon as possible."
"'We'? You cannot go back - my father would kill you - and slowly!"
("With a spoon!")
"It has to be. If you return alone, you will take the full blame for having helped a suspected witchdoctor. I must go with you, to defend you against any charges. And to clear my name."
Dohan made an incredulous laugh; it was so absurd he practically forgot about the Singing King, and saw just Darc the man. "You talk of defending me? With no army, no city behind you - you stand powerless against the nobility - the church - and the Doctors' Guild! They will hunt you down like an animal!"
("Like one of those small furry things with a beak like a duck, but a flat tail, you know... whatsisname...")
Darc shook his head, and said: "What if I stay here, then? The islanders will be endangered by my presence, because Bor will seek me out here. Then the Guild will find Mechao, and wipe out him and his family."
"No!" Dohan exclaimed - the thought of Meijji being killed was unbearable.
(So he fainted.)
"Yes," his friend insisted. "And you are mistaken about me having no power," he added. "I have something infinitely stronger than weapons. Ideas. Democracy. Free speech. Human rights."
("Income tax forms. Homeland Security. Mutually Assured Destruction.")
"It is beyond my understanding what you are blabbering about," Dohan said in a whining tone. "All I know is that I love Meijji, and I do not wish to live if I cannot see her again..."
Darc laughed and patted the lovesick young man's shoulder. "Well, why didn't you say so? Good for you! Will you marry her?" he said, jokingly.
("And when is your bitter, costly divorce?")
Dohan didn't laugh when he looked at him and said: "You do not know our laws, Darc. The nobility must stay united to avoid internal power struggles. The ruling families marry away each other's children to strengthen their alliances. Could you imagine the chaos, if I married the daughter of a criminal... a witchdoctor? Damon's dynasty, smashed."
("A dynasty of crooked jaws, cleft upper lips and dementia... smashed!")
The red-haired young man slumped onto a chair, and buried his face in his hands. If he was weeping, it did not show in the darkening room.
(*BOO-HOOO* *SOB* *SNIFF*)
Darc suddenly felt very old. So that's the picture, he thought. No matter where I walk, there's an establishment or a taboo I'm stepping on. Even this lad, for all his guts and glory, is shackled by a rigid, oppressive feudal society. Looks like I'm up against a whole world. Once again he played the Popeye tune in his mind; it always helped raise his spirits before a fight.
([Sings] "In the Navy, yes you can sail the seven seas;
In the Navy, yes you can put your mind at... No, wait...")
"Dohan," Darc said, "I must ask you to trust me again. I swear, on my life, that I can help you marry Meijji - and make it legal.
("In New Hampshire.")
I can even come out of this alive, if I use my head right. But I need allies. Not city lords or armies - people. I already have Mechao's support, I think - perhaps Librian too, and maybe Inu if I'm lucky. And I have you. Are we still friends?"
("Do I know you, crazy stranger?")
Dohan looked up, recalling his vow to Lord Fache. "To the end."
"Good. We leave tomorrow, then I'll tell you about my plans. Now go get some sleep."
He pondered later, how early he had found out the great difference between him and the peoples of these second Dark Ages. They lacked a sense of self-consciousness - and were governed more by simple, strong passions and society's laws, than by reason and reflection.
("Gads! I'm in Washington D.C.!")
As Darc went to sleep, it came to him: there was one other man who had shown a capacity of thinking ahead of all others - though he had used his initiative for destructive purposes.
Tharlos Pasko.
Should Darc fight him, or was it possible to turn him into another ally in the coming struggle? In the eyes of a man from the 20th century, who had seen the most unlikely alliances, nothing was impossible.
(Even the Nobel Peace Prize to Rigoberta Menchu, and the Sci-Fi Channel's canceling of Mystery Science Theater 3000!)
He slept on it.
(When he ought to "Sit On It!")
(Prenuptial agreements were signed.)
They made love and caressed each other without pause, until they fell asleep in each other's arms.
When he received the flight clearance, Darc was ready to go. Mechao's large family and a few hundred villagers crowded at the shore to see them leave. His wife Amada kissed and hugged Darc, then Dohan, as if they were family members.
"Be careful, my handsome ones!" she told them.
"Promise," Darc replied, but resisted the temptation to wink at her.
("...you fine foxy lady.")
Discreetly, Mechao handed Darc the tubes of equipment he had asked for earlier, concealed inside a large thick cloak.
(Mind the step! *CRASH!* OOF! OW, MY HAND!)
"The microscope is fragile," Mechao instructed him in a low, serious voice. "Do not drop it. There are written instructions inside, too. The sample test tissue must be heated to at least halfway the boiling point, or the color reactions will not be visible. I have prepared it to react to the most important larger genes we discussed, but there are many genes which will not give any reaction."
("We call them "the silly genes.")
"I will return," Darc promised, shaking the old doctor's bony hand.
Meijji, when it came to her turn, refused to let go of Dohan - she followed him up to the plane, weeping incessantly. The two fire-fighter women, the first ones Dohan had encountered on Kap Verita, were the saddest members of the villager crowd. Patting each other's shoulders, they waved at the departing guests.
"They'll never come back," the short one sobbed. "It's a jungle out there."
"Knock up some women and leave," the tall one said stoically. "Just like those sailors used to do."
("That's not funny, Ruth. I was a sailor.")
Darc was soon settled in his cabin seat, waiting for the pilot. Dohan halted on the cargo ramp, holding Meijji tight.
"I love you. We shall meet again, I swear," he told her, wishing it would be possible to keep his promise.
"You must. I shall think of you every day, every moment."
("When I'm not too busy.")
He gave her a little golden figurine of the Goddess, a lucky charm he had worn since childhood.
("I found it in a box of Techno-Feudal Cracker Jacks.")
They kissed each other a last time, and parted. Dohan rushed to the controls, almost forgetting the safety belt.
(The blinking Safety Belt light reminded him.)
The islanders backed away; the Sunray rose up into the blue sky, whining so high the bystanders had to cover their ears.
([Whiny voice]"I DON'T WANNA FLY, IT'S SO HEAVY AND COLD, I'M GONNA TELL MY MOM...!!")
They kept watching until the ship turned to the north and roared off past the mountain ridge.
"What is a 'ra-dio'?" Dohan asked, his mind absent, brooding over Meijji.
("It's a box with knobs and dials, but that's not important right now.")
Darc clarified himself: "An electromagnetic machine that sends and receives messages. What do you use?"
("Cialis, or Viagra if I can get it... oh! You mean for messages!")
Dohan blinked out of his moody trance. "Oh, that... laser pulses, of course. We use the kind that are invisible to the eye, and they can reach very far, but the curvature of the globe sets a limit to how far, unless they pass through the way stations that are posted across Castilia."
("Sometimes listeners are zapped dead by 'Christian Rock' lasers.")
"Can you listen to the laser communication between other cities? Now, I mean? Then we might know what is going on back home."
Dohan shook his head; Darc never ceased to say the strangest things. "How do I do that? A laser-beam is like a bundle of very thin lines. The sender must know the exact location of the receiving disk, or he will just send his pulses into thin air. What is good about this, is that the signals cannot be overheard on their way..."
"I know, I know," Darc said with slight irritation. The boy's understanding of physics was abysmal - as with most people of this era.
(The era of Creationist education.)
"So you can communicate with Damon City?" he asked.
"Not in the air, no - it is nigh-impossible for me to get a reliable aim on a receiver, even on a steady course like this. The cities have an old static network for communication - it is upheld by the ruling families."
Darc thought he understood this: the city lords were secretive, and had long since given up radio waves since they were so easy to intercept. Then he thought about something else.
("Something else...")
"Dohan... I need to learn more about the people outside the cities, out in the wilderness. You know..."
Dohan was silent for a few moments, then replied in a tense voice: "There are no... people... in the Wastelands."
"The Lepers... who are they?"
("They're people with very loose body parts, but that's not important right now.")
The young man turned to give him a quick glance - and Darc saw the blind fear behind Dohan's outward anger.
(Overcome by blind fear, Dohan ran into a doorpost and passed out.)
"Don't say the word in here, it brings bad luck!" Dohan snapped.
("You mean... 'Macbeth'?")
He added, only slightly less harshly:
("LOUD NOISE!!")
"We call them 'The Ones Whose Very Name Brings Disease'. They carry the Plague. They are evil, pure evil."
"Have you ever seen one? Or a picture of one?"
("Sure, in my high school yearbook.")
Dohan shook his head, almost like a spastic reflex - and explained:
("I'm now a spastic.")
"Lord Fache was the last Castilian in recent memory who saw them and lived. He drove away a great horde of them near his city, in the year 930. That made him our greatest hero. It is an honor just to be defeated by him in the Joust. During the battle, Lord Fache was lucky to stay so far away from them, that he could avoid contamination. They say he still has nightmares about it.
("He wakes up screaming, 'Help! Let me out of this lawyers' convention!'")
"Once, when he was drunk at a celebration - that rarely happens - he talked about what he had seen. I happened to overhear him. He had been close enough to see them - they looked like nothing human! Unspeakable hideousness!
("Pink elephants, doing the cha-cha!")
When he saw into their eyes, he almost died of fear! Some of his soldiers, and a relative of his, were captured by... by them. The defenders of his city could hear them scream for mercy for two days and nights!"
The aircraft suddenly lurched off course - Dohan was so upset, that he had pulled one of the controls in the wrong direction. He adjusted the craft's position, and switched on the autopilot. Dohan was pale, and cold sweat was budding on his face.
"Calm down, Dohan. I promise I won't mention it again."
("And besides, now there's a cure for erectile dysfunction!")
He let out a sigh, puzzled by Dohan's reaction. Defender of the city, indeed! Trained to fight an enemy he only knew from fairytales! Still, Dohan had shown the courage to face a witchdoctor; there was still hope that Darc could free him from his worst superstitions.
(If only the kid could work up the courage to quit Herbalife.)
Darc spent the rest of the journey studying the medical equipment Mechao had given him.
("Scalpel, check... aspirin, check... golf clubs, check...")
He was especially delighted to examine the miniaturized diffraction microscope - no larger than his two fists, with its added optical function; Mechao had told him it came from one of the coastal cities of Awrica. And this proved that powerful technology was still being kept in memory, just waiting to be used to its full potential.
(The Disco Ball would never die!)
With such power, Darc speculated, he just might turn the odds in his favor. He hid the equipment in the secret pockets of his cloak, before they arrived.
("This'll never pass through customs... goddamn metal detectors!")
Smoke was clouding the circular, giant fortress that was Damon City. Laser lines flickered in all directions; occasional explosions hit the outer walls and the central castle.
(Dick Cheney was scaling the Capitol, grasping a screaming Nancy Pelosi in one of his giant fists.)
Dohan could count at least two enemy aircraft circling the city. One of the Damon family's slow troop carriers was up in the air, trying to fend off enemy aircraft with little success. Darc was no coward, but the idea of suicide didn't appeal to him.
(Neither did the reality of suicide.)
"You're not going down there, are you?"
(That's what she said!)
Dohan turned grim; he was not so different from his father, after all.
"Be quiet. Our artillery will recognize our insignia and give us cover. I will try flying in as fast as I can, attack an enemy craft and land at the top of the castle. My father is a better pilot - I should be down there now, in my armor. You, man the turret, quick!"
Darc unbuckled, grasped a side rail, and treaded back to the aft turret. It reminded him of old World War II bombers - a foldout seat, hanging suspended from the ceiling, mounted to a gun the size of Darc's two legs.
("Notice how the author uses Darc's body parts to measure stuff?" - "Yeah. He doesn't know the metric system.")
Powered by servomotors, the gun pointed out through the hull by way of a small airtight porthole.
(Design by the Freudian Corporation.)
He got into the gunner's seat and tested the controls. Fairly simple, he figured - rotate the gun with the two handlebars, aim through the windshield, and fire.
There were two crude, circular gauges under the gun sights, for battery power and gun temperature. Darc had done his military service, but that was years - centuries? - ago. Fear and tension were building up in his gut - but there was no time to think it over. In the next moment, they were flying in.
(He frantically searched for the airsickness bags.)
(A rainbow of festive colors!)
But it was a strangely silent battle, Darc thought; no cracks of gunfire or machine-gun staccatos could be heard. Every now and then, a hit would snap against the ship's hull - too weakened by smoke and distance to pierce it.
(It had already had its nose and eyebrows pierced!)
Dohan closed in on a Pasko fighter craft as it swooped down over the city, toward the great castle. From the castle turrets, a barrage of red lines aimed at the enemy ships - mostly missing their targets.
(The Gunners' Union had instigated a work-to-rule action.)
The enemy pilot rolled and twisted his craft like it was a toy. Dohan fired at his rear, and hit once.
(The less said about that sentence, the better.)
The enemy craft climbed away from the castle, and Dohan went after it. The Damon troop carrier retreated to the tower hangar, badly hit by enemy fire.
In the aft section, Darc fought down a beginning fit of airsickness - his stomach lagged behind as they climbed.
(He climbed out on the wing to pull his stomach back into his gut.)
The castle complex rushed past his view - then he saw the second enemy fighter approach them at their rear. He fastened his grip of the handlebars and tried to lock onto the rolling pursuer. Turbulence from outside and vibrations from the loud jet engines caused the gun to shake in his hands - he fired twice, to try his aim - and both pulses missed.
(Suddenly, he realized he was in a ripped-off scene from Star Wars!)
The pursuer closed in, just a hundred or so meters away - fired several pulses - they missed, if only because Dohan made a sudden sharp roll and banked left. Darc struggled to get a proper aim, but the pursuer kept moving in and out of his narrow view.
(That's what you get for being so narrow-minded!)
He scanned the sky, squinting at the sweat beads rolling into his eyes, humming nervously between his teeth: "I'm Popeye the sailor-man... come on, you bastard... I fight to the finish 'cause I eat the... Gotcha!"
("Gotcha!" said the copyright lawyers to the author.)
He squeezed the trigger, firing a quick burst - one of the pulses seemed to scratch the pursuer, but it remained flying. The temperature gauge climbed up to the red area - battery power was already down by half. "Damn!"
The pursuing craft fired a long burst of green pulses. A shower of sharp cracks hit the hull. Darc was rocked in his seat - Dohan put the Sunray into a rolling spin, pointing its nose to the ground. Dazedly, Darc noticed a burning sensation from the air around him - and saw that there was a freshly burned hole in the aft port, close to his seat. Too stressed out to react, he waited for the downward spin to cease.
(While "Nearer My God To Thee" played in the PA system.)
Almost too late, Dohan broke the craft's spin and aimed its nose upward again. He turned it back on course toward the castle - Pasko's pilots were simply too good for him.
Darc took a few potshots at the enemy troops as the ground swept past him.
("Your mothers wear combat boots! Nyah nyah!")
The enemy soldiers were trying to get close enough to fire some kind of heavy cannons or grenade launchers at the outer walls - but the artillery batteries on the battlements kept them at bay. He hit one of the enemy cannons with a pulse, and it blew up in a huge cloud of fire. Darc made a triumphant yell.
("Hot diggity damn!")
One of the enemy fighters got on their tail again.
Over his shoulder, Dohan yelled from the cockpit: "Cover us, Darc - I'm going into the hangar!"
("Damn the torpedoes!")
Darc fired again and again - but he seemed to miss by inches and hairbreadths each time.
(The sky was full of hairs?)
The second enemy craft came into view farther off. Darc hesitated for a moment; he had only seconds before Dohan would have to throttle the thruster jets, and use the keel thrusters to steer into the wide-open hangar. Before they reached inside, they would be sitting ducks - unless the castle guns could shield them.
("Ducks?" - "The fallout from the nuclear wars mutated everyone, so they turned into ducks now and then.")
A sudden explosion from outside jolted the cabin. "Are we hit?" Darc shouted.
"They hit a castle turret!" Dohan shouted back. "Cover fire!"
("Reverse the polarities! Stabilize your force vectors!")
Darc aimed and fired, without thinking - ignoring the battery gauge sinking closer to zero, and the temperature needle reaching the red area. He fired two more pulses - and the gun went dead. Nothing happened!
(Too much happened!)
He shook the handlebars, stared out the windshield - where did that second ship go? - and nearly missed the sight of the enemy plunging down into the castle gardens. The thundering explosion echoed throughout the city.
(A hailstorm of burned cabbage and potatoes struck the rooftops and streets.)
The remaining enemy craft veered off, ducking laser lines from the city defenses.
Suddenly, the Sunray fell under the shadow of gray concrete walls, and it shook violently - the keel thrusters were pushing against the hangar floor. They were saved.
(By the Church of the Subgenius.)
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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(Janet Jackson shocked the world with her "Riflegate" stunt!)
Darc met Dohan in the mansion, late in the evening. The young nobleman seemed to him different, more mature - and infinitely more troubled.
Meijji and Dohan were together once more that night, trying to forget that they might never meet again. Few words were spoken; promises of everlasting love were whispered.
In the late morning the next day, Dohan checked the Sunray; before an hour had passed, he deemed it safe for immediate lift-off.
"Is there a radio on board?" Darc asked Dohan once his stomach had settled after the rough start. The vessel was up among the clouds again, speeding northward across the sea. He had to repeat the question before Dohan noticed.
From the air, they could see the signs of battle many kilometers away.
Red, green, and blue laser pulses blinked past the Sunray from the ground.
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