The Trinity Sitch - Book 4: Heart of the Fury
Chapter 20: The Anchor of Time
"KP, you awake?"
"Yeah."
Sometime during the night the two moons must have gone down, leaving their room so dark they couldn't see their hands in front of their faces. An oil lamp that had been left burning on the table had run out of fuel and expired.
Kim was curled up against Ron even though she was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the high humidity, her desire for his touch outweighing the discomfort. Neither of them had slept much even though the odd bed was comfortable and somewhat cool. Despite the damp their bodies cooled quickly after parting from their intimate embrace the evening before and they quickly pulled the light sheets up over their bodies.
Sitting up, she fumbled around in the dark, looking for the nightshirt she had cast off earlier, patting herself lightly with it before climbing out of the pit. Purely from memory she found the chair where her battle suit had been left to dry. The fabric itself wasn't absorbent but she wanted the inside, especially the built-in underwear to have a chance to dry after washing it out the night before.
Her bracelet was clipped to the collar. There was no hope of using it to contact anyone but the chronometer still functioned. "Unless I miss my guess, it's about a hour until dawn."
She picked up the suit, its power bands coming to life, casting a faint blue glow in the room.
"Kim, why don't you come back to bed for now." She heard Ron say as she started slipping her legs into the now-dry suit. "You need your morning dose of Ron-shine."
"Baby, I think I had enough Ron-shine last night to last a few days." She zipped the front up, the ghostly glow of the blue band barely hinting at the shape of her body in the near pitch black room.
"That is so cool. Now I really need to give you a dose of Ron-shine!"
"Dose yourself, Bad-boy. We've got work to do."
"Aw, man."
"Keep this up and I'm throwing you back in that bath. Should be nice and cold now since they didn't light any fires."
"I think I liked the water quite well last night."
"Ron, give it a rest, will you. To think I you used to be the one throwing the brakes on all the time."
"Hey, once I got a taste of natural Kimminess, I couldn't get enough."
"Well, you've had enough Kimminess. Now get dressed."
"I can't even see my clothes."
"Okay, here." Kim let the glove seal to the arm and held up her hand. The bank around her palm got brighter and brighter, the blue glow turning white, illuminating most of the room in a soft blue-white glow.
Ron scrambled out of bed, putting the strange clothing on as quickly as he could, struggling just slightly with the wooden toggle buttons on the pants and the laces on the outer shirt. She had to stifle a quick giggle, thinking about how easily he was able to undo the laces of her old peasant blouse. Thinking along those lines and watching him dress, she was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer for another 'dose' of 'Ron-shine.' Ever since they had been living together and especially since the wedding she often looked forward to a morning 'injection.' Unfortunately she was already sealed into her suit, so she put that thought out of her mind.
He finished dressing by snapping just the chest and back plates of his armor on, mainly so he would have a place to carry the huge sword, considering it was too big to be worn on the belt. It would be just his luck to have the sword drag his pants down around his ankles around all these strangers.
The loose fit on his slender hips made her think that was still quite likely anyway.
Dousing the palm-light she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him in for a long, tender kiss. She finished by nuzzling his cheek lightly. "First chance we get, you're shaving. You are most def not a beard man."
"I don't know, KP. Might keep a van-dyke, you know, magic chin grass."
"Oh no you don't. You're going to listen to me, Ron Stoppable, I know what's best for you."
"S'ha, right. Like that time you decided to borrow Mom's car one more time before she traded it?"
"How was I supposed to know it was that uncomfortable? It was just a cool fantasy, like that dream we both had."
"Uh huh, except in that dream we weren't bumping our heads on the ceiling or getting seat belt buckles in our backs."
"Hush, you, or I'll try to duplicate François' haircut using my bare hands."
"What, and me with no pleather? How gauche."
Hand in hand, they left the little cottage. Kim's estimation of first light was off, as the horizon was just turning slightly pink. Torches burned all over the village, illuminating the streets. Apparently they must have slept more than they first thought considering the amount of preparation that had taken place during the night.
The control craft was still parked in the main square, a man with long, shaggy looking hair pouring over the controls. He was apparently having more luck than she had, considering the remaining seventy or so robots had taken up new positions, forming a protective ring around the town, with the majority of them facing west. Large armored skulls swept back and forth, scanning the land and the skies for any approaching threat. The sight was impressive to say the least.
Impressive, yes, but most likely woefully ineffective. The Torelloids were the builder's weapons, and they would know how to fight against them quite easily. It also gave Kim great pause to think the weapons would not be turned once more toward living beings. It made no difference to her that the troops would be coming here seeking to do the same thing the robot army had, it was still killing. The concept that this was more than just an enemy wishing to take control of something, that this was more like war, would not take hold in her mind.
Try as she might, though, she could see no other way. Somewhere out there was an army of heavily armored troops. She did not know if they would come that day or the next or some day after that, but they would come. As if in answer to her question a tiny aircraft streaked by overhead, a tiny yellow flame springing from its tail as it flew over the village.
"That is the third one we have spotted now." Tyrian said. "Probe drone. It's a small unmanned craft they employ to keep an eye on us. That means they already know we have taken control of their machines."
"How long do you think before they send ground troops."
"I do not think it will be today, or, if it is, it will not be until later. I will take them some time to traverse the distance on foot. Even if they use their sky transports, it will take them some time to mount an offensive of that type."
"Unless they decide to simply bomb you from the air." Ron said, watching the tiny speck recede into the distance.
"That could happen. I certainly hope not though. I am counting on the Torellians being their usual, predictable selves."
"Predictable?" Kim queried.
"Yes. They are so proud of their military prowess. They have wielded so much power for so long it has made them overconfident. They allow themselves the luxury of honor in battle and all that nonsense. They have never been put in a position where survival is paramount. They will see our surprise victory yesterday as either an affront to their honor or a challenge to it. Either way they will feel like the only way to regain their honor is to come here themselves and stamp us out. To their minds, bombing us out of existence would be cowardly."
"No more so than sending a hundred killer robots?" Ron asked.
"That was a calculated insult." He explained. "Without the victory you and your mate provided, we were of no consequence and Darkoth wanted that to be our dying thought. We really don't think that way, but that is all he can comprehend."
The sun was finally making its way over the tree tops as several men made their way around the town extinguishing the torches. It was a really strange sight, a village that seemed plucked out of the middle ages, surrounded by tall humanoid robots, as if great stone sentries had been brought to life. One or two men could be seen carrying around bulky rifles, possibly scrounged from the Torellians. What were they going to do with two rifles against hundreds or armored warriors?
They became aware of a slight buzzing sound, a low, indistinct murmur that seemed to surround them. Slowly it grew louder, remaining just on the edge of their senses. Perhaps it wasn't so much that the sound was growing, but that everything else became still. The birds and animals that populated the rainforest had fallen silent, as if expecting something. Only the light wind answered the faint call.
"This is far sooner than I expected." Tyrian frowned, looking to the west.
"They're coming, aren't they?" Kim asked, straining to identify the sound.
The older man simply nodded. Without another word a dozen men gathered around them.
"All is ready, Lord Tyrian."
"Good. Remember, this is our home. This is the life we have made for ourselves in the face of adversity, in the face of evil. We stand here today to defend against that evil, so that the truth will never die."
Ron and Kim were thinking the same thing. A dozen men stood ready, armed with two decrepit energy rifles, a smattering of other weapons that looked like muskets and a handful of swords. The only thing standing with them were the remaining robots, if they had even learned how to correctly operate them in time. Kim looked back at the man feverishly working the controls. He seemed to know what he was doing, but the test would soon come.
Slowly the sound got louder, becoming more and more distinct. They army was not approaching in stealth, what there were hearing was two hundred armor clad fighters screaming at the tops of their lungs. It was unnerving, disheartening…frightening.
It was working.
A clicking sound joined the roar. Kim had an image of soldiers marching, screaming their rage at their adversary, beating their swords against armor or shields, each step bringing the doom of these people closer.
Ron had his sword out, the point held upward despite its great size. The energy field flickered to life, ever so slightly fainter than it had been the day before, its improvised power cell drained of life too quickly by the powerful blade. He must have realized this as he turned it off, hoping to have something later when it was most needed.
Her heart was hammering in her chest. Logic told her to turn and run. Logic said this was not her fight. Yet logic is not what gave her a hero's heart. She would fight and die beside these people because that was what was right. Just like the stubborn old man with the bad leg leading his people, she was one who would stand against evil, no matter the cost.
Yet she felt fear, more fear than ever before. The men coming brought death, swift, terrible death at the end of a blade. It was very likely it would not be a quick death either. Modern weapons could bring the end quickly, but it seemed these people, these warriors so mired in some perverse notion of honor, were intent on making their deaths as painful, as gruesome as possible. She knew she was about to witness firsthand.
Where was this power? What good was this so-called gift that had been given her, unasked, if it could not help them today? Did it only exist to protect Ron? Did he have to be in mortal danger, mortal pain for it to happen? Or was it just a one time thing, something to be used at the direst moment of her life, never to return again? What a waste it would be if that were true. Both of them would die anyway here this day.
Sensing her thoughts, Ron took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. She looked at him, her eyes meeting his, perhaps for the last time.
The clicking changed to banging, the roar turned to shouts. Strange words in the Torellian's guttural language reached them, sounding more like animals on the prowl than near-humans with albino skin. Then she noticed Tyrian.
The man had his sword out, bracing himself on a crutch. He was looking straight at her, muttering something under his breath. Then he looked at Ron. Then she knew.
These people thought they were their savior! Somehow he knew what they were supposed to be, what they meant to his people. They were the faithful. In their hearts they believed what they had been taught.
The ring of robots circling the town sprang to life. Weaponry roared to life, spraying death into the forest, their arms sweeping around, their weapons spewing fire. Every so often something would fly out from the tree-line, streaking on trails of fire and smoke. One connected with a towering sentry, enveloping it in a ball of flame and black smoke. All that remained of it was a pair of smoking metallic legs.
The operator must have known what he was doing, as the circle started to break. Their attackers had planned for this eventuality, bringing weapons that could harm the armored robots. Three more went up in smoke as they broke ranks, taking cover like oversized soldiers in a firefight, trying to keep themselves from presenting too large a target.
Still, one by one the Torelloids fell as rockets streaked toward them. Her heart hammered anew as the last one burst into flames, running away like a living being on fire. For a few minutes there was no sound except the crackle of fires started in some of the wooden structures.
Then the shouting started again. She strained to tell if there were fewer voices, but couldn't. There was no way to tell how effective the gatling lasers of the now destroyed battle-bots had been against the attacking army.
People started emerging from their houses. Men, bearing anything they could find that would cut or hew, women bearing much the same save those who carried their young. In minutes the entire population of the Vershaltian colony had gathered, ready to defend their home.
All too soon the first of the warriors started emerging from the tree line. They didn't advance quickly, their pace measured as they howled, a faceless army of destruction ready to mow down these people, people who in the short time they had been there had shown them courage, faith…
…Tyrian was looking at her again. These people still had hope. Their faith was secure, their deliverers had come. He looked at her with much the same was Ron did.
There was love in those eyes.
Love was the key.
It wasn't fear and desperate need that brought forth the power. It was love. Her love for Ron was not only the way to turn it off, but to turn it on!
A rainbow of light burst around her, a light so intense it should have blinded all those who looked upon her but it did not. Silvery metal flowed over her body, this time welcomed by her, this time not shocking her, surprising her, making her think she was being attacked by some unknown magic.
Tyrian hung his head, weeping in joy that the Knights of the Effurien truly had come to save them.
The forefront of the Torellians had seen the transformation but it only served to confuse them. They barely missed a step as they marched forward as Kim turned to face them.
Ron's raised his sword over his head, the energy field blazing to life once more, this time not coming from projectors mounted on the guard, but streaming from his hands. It glowed even brighter than it had before.
Behind them, every man, woman and child of the colony started cheering.
The nearest warrior broke into a run, his sword held high, charging Kim. The blade came crashing down at her.
With the swipe of her hand, the blade shattered into hundreds of metal pieces. She spun on her heel, kicking the charging warrior in his chest, sending him sailing back into his charging compatriots.
Ron plowed into the charge, his sword spinning like a great scythe. The sheer ferocity of his counter-attack drove them back, but only for an instant. There were simply too many of them, there was no way they could hold them back forever.
Not unless Kim were willing to kill to stop them.
The debate was raging in her head as she disarmed soldier after soldier, breaking their weapons in her bare hands. She could fly! She had more strength than she could measure. With her new powers she could rend the warriors into pieces before they could even think of reaching the villagers.
How could this kind of power be given to someone who wouldn't use it?
Ron was under no illusions about his power. He knew how to use the sword. Big deal! That meant only one thing to him, he had to deal death with it, just as he had in that damned arena. Still, it was kill or be killed, kill or let innocent people die. It was war, and it was tearing his heart in two. It was filling him with despair and rage. The red mist started descending on his vision again, he could feel himself slipping into a darkness he didn't think possible. A roaring sound filled his ears as he got nearer and nearer to becoming the berserker he feared.
The roaring got louder. It wasn't in his head, it was real, and it was all around them. The fight slowed as everyone looked up.
A small fleet of black and forest green starships was descending from the skies. The first was already landing. The ship was slightly larger than the rest, its hull polished like a black mirror. On its side a crest of a golden skull pierced with a massive ornate sword glistened in the morning light. The attacking warriors saw this and backed away from their stunned opponents, forming up ranks, their swords pointed at the ground.
A ramp dropped from the belly of the ship, a small group of its occupants descending. First among them was a tall, regal looking Torellian, flanked on one side by a man bearing a standard with the same skull and sword emblem, on the other by an armored figure Ron recognized instantly.
"Sagan!"
The elder general nodded his assent but otherwise remained a pace behind the man in the gleaming red and gold armor. The precession came to a halt ten paces from Tyrian, the forward ranks of the attacking army dropping to their knees, the points of their swords thrust into the ground.
"Lord Vershalt" he began in stilted Arkonian. "I am Berek Den Maak, herald of his Most Royal Highness, Emperor Darkon Den Taag. I have been sent to investigate a claim that your people are the rightful inhabitants of this planet, according to our laws."
"I…this is our home. I do not know your laws where it comes to a claim, but I do know my people were here before yours discovered this planet."
"If this is true, and you have demonstrated that you are no enemy, then your claim upon this world will be valid."
"This is an outrage!" Screamed a voice from the line of soldiers. They quickly parted, admitting another familiar Torellian clad in black and gold armor.
"Governor Darkoth, I speak for the Emperor…"
"No, Herald. I am the voice of the Emperor on this world. I enforce his will upon it. You have no say here. This is a military matter, not political."
"Darkoth, you had best watch your tongue. I have come directly from the Court. Your report said this was an illegal colony founded by the Arkonians on a world we had placed a claim upon. That report now is challenged by an Imperial General." He gestured at Sagan, who remained silent.
"How else would there be puny humans here? It has only been a short time since the Arkonians were even capable of space travel. They are an affront to our superior race."
"You will be silent!" the Herald bellowed at the raging governor. "This challenge must be heard at the Court. You will now, under direct orders from the Emperor himself, take your forces and return to your garrison."
"No."
"Pardon me?"
"I said no. I am here this day to enforce the Emperor's will against these people. They have this day and the day before taken up arms against my forces, destroying an entire battalion of our battle droids."
"Your incompetence will be judged at the Court."
"I will not be judged in this matter. I claim what is mine, and mine alone. If there is to be a challenge, then I challenge the claim of these…people" he spit the last out with considerable venom.
Kim leaned over toward Tyrian. "This isn't one of these one on one, to the death type of sitch, is it?" she whispered.
"I'm afraid so."
Ron, I can't kill him she sent to him, knowing what would be asked of her next.
No, you can't came his reply.
"Who will answer my challenge?" Darkoth said, holding his sword aloft with one hand.
Ron stepped forward, his sword crackling with energy. "Herald, if I win, does that mean these people are free to live their lives here?"
"Yes, human."
"And if I don't?"
"Then, by our laws, Darkoth is free to do as he pleases. Think carefully. You are not one of us. If no one answers his challenge, then it is up to the Emperor to decide their fate."
Kim could see the sweat on his brow, feel his panic as he stepped forward another pace. Only the faith these people had in him was buoying him now. He pointed his sword at the black and gold alien.
"In the name of these people, I accept his challenge." He raised the sword over his head, starting to spin it. "Time to open up some smack monkey." He said in a low voice.
Stunned into silence, all Kim could do was watch as the armored Torellian charged her husband. She was so engrossed in the battle she did not realize her silvery covering melting away, leaving her natural flesh in its wake. Much of her suit hung in tatters, no longer held together by the defense field her power generated.
Ron deflected blow after blow, the two combatant's swords spinning in the air, great showers of sparks shooting as the massive blades clashed in the square. Slowly a ring of watchers, some human, some Torellian formed around the dancing warriors.
Strength coursed through him like never before. Just as he had once told Kim to become one with a kitchen mixer, he now became one with his blade. It was not just an extension of his self, it was part of him, as if he had been born to wield it. His muscles did not start to burn, his bones did not start to ache. He was a weapon.
Why had that happened to him? Why was such a power thrust onto someone who abhorred this kind of violence. This wasn't him facing digitally created zombies, this was real, this was a flesh and blood being, a man just as human as he was. He may have been evil, or at least on a path to do evil, but that did not mean death. Why did it always have to end in death? It's like those movies made from all the old comic books, where in the end the villain always died, even if that villain had fought the hero for many years on the comics.
His power, the power granted so he could save lives, was one of destruction. He was meant to kill. That hurt him worse than Darkoth's blade ever could. Why was the fight always about death?
Another fight intruded on his consciousness, a fight he had never actually been in except in a timeline that was eventually destroyed. He only had this memory because he had touched an idol that had some power over time, an idol that had been the cause of that alternate life. He had touched space and time and was aware.
In the midst of the battle he had an epiphany. He was not just a weapon. He was the anchor. The fighting, that was just a small part of it. The true part he would play would be to act as the one who could hold onto time when the powers of the Trinity were finally used in concert. His was not the power to destroy alone, his was the power to preserve.
Another insight leaped into his mind. During that fight in that other life he had observed something about his enemy. He's more machine than golfer now.
Darkoth was more machine than Torellian. That did not mean he had less worth or that he was not truly alive, but it gave him a chance, a way that would end the fight without death.
Ron struck.
The Torellian Governor of Troxxite had been so intent on preventing a death-blow from his smaller opponent he never expected this kind of attack. Ron's sword swept lower, striking its target in a shower of outraged energy and electrical sparks.
He was stunned as he fell over backwards, his bionic leg severed at the knee. In a flash, Ron's sword struck two more times.
In moments it was over, Ron standing over him, his sword pointed at his chest. The strength fled his body but he did not relax.
"Herald, it is my people's custom to spare a life when we have them at our mercy."
"Just do it, human scum! Kill me! Do it!"
"No." Ron said, throwing down his sword as if it were a poisonous snake.
The Herald nodded. "Then I judge this challenge done. Lord Vershalt, the world of Troxxite is yours. We shall soon meet with you to discuss our continued presence on your world."
Kim didn't hear any more. Ron seemed to stumble slightly, pulling at the catches of his remaining bits of armor. She got to him as the plates fell away and he dropped to his knees.
"Kim?"
"I'm here baby. I'm here."
"KP, I want to go home." Tears were rolling down his face.
"We will. As soon as we find a way, we will." She pulled him close, wishing she could take away the pain he was feeling in his heart, sharing it with him through their connection.
"Maybe they will…" he started before being cut off by a familiar, but totally unexpected sound.
BEEP BEEP DE BEEP!
They looked at each other, stunned.
BEEP BEEP DE BEEP!
"How…what? Is there a signal getting crossed with it?" he said, staring at her bracelet. A tiny green light was winking from the holographic emitter.
BEEP BEEP DE BEEP! It almost sounded as if it were growing impatient with them.
Kim hit the receive button, not knowing what she would see when it winked to life. She fell down on her own backside as Wade's image resolved. It was grainy and his voice was hard to make out, but it was definitely him.
"Kim, this is a one-way transmission. I have no idea if you're going to be able to receive this, but we just found out what they're planning to do with all of those things that were stolen. We think we know where you are and we hope Ron's with you, but we're putting together a team and taking the Trinity to Arkonia. If you get this, we'll try to meet you where you were before. Please be okay…"
The image dissolved, then reappeared, the message repeating itself.
They just stared at each other in shock.