Josh stared in amazement, unable to believe his eyes. Ever since his visit to Thorn Valley, he, like his friends, believed Jonathan Brisby to have been killed by the Exiles, who sought to steal the Stone from him. To discover that Jonathan was still alive after all these years, held prisoner by the Exiles, was beyond belief. Why would these brutish, cannibalistic ruffians spare him if they'd gotten what they wanted? He suddenly felt a wave of shame sweep over him; he'd been courting Elizabeth, not realising her husband was actually still alive!
Meanwhile, Jonathan was staring at this unexpected newcomer his captors had brought in, his face blank with amazement. Josh couldn't blame him. How often did the rodent inhabitants of this strange planet get to see a real flesh-and-blood human, the greatest taboo in their religion? Blimey, I do hope he doesn't share the Rats' superstitious views of humans, he thought.
"Who...who are you?"
"Josh Anderson - formerly Captain Josh Anderson," said Josh, introducing himself to the archaeologist, who had spent most of his adult life trying to unravel the mystery of his people's beginnings, "It's all right, I may be a human, but I don't mean you any harm..." Jonathan Brisby seemed to realise that too, his eyes studying the tell-tale owl logo of the Nimh-One on Josh's overalls – he had seen that crest before when exploring the ruins of the Great Owl's Temple in Thorn Valley.
"You're one of those humans who built the Temple of the Great Owl!" he exclaimed in disbelief, "But that's impossible! Those humans lived thousands of years ago... Are you a descendant or something?" Josh uttered a mirthless laugh.
"Descendant? Hardly, old chap. No, I'm in fact the last survivor of my ship's crew, still living and breathing after two thousand years!" Jonathan was absolutely gobsmacked. In all his years of incredible discoveries, actually meeting one of the humans who apparently had something to do with his ancestors' beginnings sure clinched it.
Josh told him his story of the accident that had brought him to Nimh-Beta, how he'd met Jonathan's family and the Rats, his efforts to reunite with his crew, which had led him to Thorn Valley, only to discover the grim reality that he was stranded in the far future and his crew were all long dead. However, he wisely skipped the part about the romance that had bloomed between him and Elizabeth. That was something his fellow prisoner needn't know just yet. Jonathan was amazed.
"This is incredible!" he exclaimed, "Why, you hold the secrets I've spent my entire career trying to unravel! But how come were the Exiles targeting you? What were you doing trying to break into the lair?" Josh stiffened up – it was time to confront his new friend with the bad news.
"Jonathan, your children have been kidnapped by the Exiles," he said, plain and simple. There was no way to sugarcoat this, "Those bastards upstairs are using them as leverage to coax me into doing their dirty work. Unless I extend my full cooperation to Castor by tomorrow, they'll start killing them..." As he feared, Jonathan was absolutely devastated.
"Those low-life scumbags!" he cried in outrage, jumping to his feet, "If they dare harm my children, I'll kill them myself...!" But Josh held him back. Righteous anger wouldn't help either of them now.
"Calm down!" he told him in a firm voice that sounded to Jonathan like a command, rather than a request, "For what it's worth, it's all my fault – it was me those riff-raff wanted -, and I intend to put that right. But to do this, I need you calm and thinking with a clear head." Somehow, Jonathan managed to master enough self-control to calm his nerves. But it didn't boost his hopes in the slightest.
"There's no way you can escape from this place," he told Josh, explaining how he'd been forced to endure torture countless times during his captivity in an attempt to force him to crack the secrets of the Stone for Castor's gain, and developing inventions like the gunpowder Josh had seen. At first, Jonathan had been prepared to die until they'd threatened Elizabeth and her children back home if he refused any further obedience, "I've tried every way all the years I've been here. The Exiles are too well organised. They've got spies and assassins everywhere..."
"All the more reason why we have to figure a way out of this," said Josh, "Those bastards are plotting a massive strike against Rosebush City. If we don't do something and fast, they'll be mass carnage and destruction!"
"I can't risk the lives of my family," said Jonathan desperately, "Unless you give Castor what he wants, he'll slaughter them without mercy! It's all he does. Please, you have to give him the secret of your flying ship..."
"That's exactly what I don't intend to do – not only would they kill them anyway, but then the blood of plenty more innocents will be on my hands."
Jonathan was about to protest again, but Josh calmed him. Castor wanted him because he knew the secret of flying; and, remembering the unmanned pod he'd seen in the volcano on the top of the mountain, he had an idea of how to turn the tables on the Exiles. Castor and his thugs may be organised criminals, but he was an even better pilot and engineer – skills that had served him well so many times in the past and which he could now use to get them out of this mess.
"I'm an officer of the British Crown and I'm accustomed to doing my duty. Accepting failure is strictly not one of my virtues," he told Jonathan, "And I have a plan to make Castor and his cronies realise their grave error by messing with the wrong person..." Jonathan couldn't decide whether this human was too brave or too foolish.
The following morning, the guards came and removed them from the cell and dragged them before Castor. The leader of the Exile clan was breakfasting in his chambers – a spacious and luxurious apartment in another cavern, which housed an elaborate office decorated with numerous trophies and memorabilia from Castor's many raids, including a vast collection of human artefacts collected from the Nimh-One crash site. Among them, Josh also noticed the grenade Brutus had dropped back in Thorn Valley, which the Exiles had collected to study. And on a round table beside the desk, on a gold tray, sat Castor's greatest prize of all: the second piece of the Nimh-One's Rosetta Disk – the piece Jonathan had originally discovered.
Sitting like Vlad the Impaler, Castor finished the last of his meal – a steaming bowl of that same blood soup cooked up from bits of his victims' own slaughtered corpses Josh had seen earlier - and turned in his chair to face his prisoners. His eyes rested on Josh.
"Well, human, are you going to surrender to me the secrets of your powers?"
With a slight nod to Jonathan, with whom he'd spent the whole night going over their plan, step by step, Josh nodded to Castor, "Fine, I will." Castor gave him a cold smile, his gaze sinister like his pet cat Dragon's.
"I thought as much. You've just bought your friend Brisby's children a little while longer to live – for as long as you retain your cooperation. So, first, where is your flying machine?"
"High up on the top of the mountain," lied Josh, obviously referring not to his pod, currently sitting at the foot of the mountain, but to the unmanned probe high up on the volcano, which the Exiles had no idea was there. Fortunately, Castor seemed to buy the bluff and proceeded with his demands.
"You are to go and bring it back here to the hideout, where it can be properly studied. I will be sending you up there with an escort to retrieve it. Is there anything you need?"
"I will need my kit and tools back," said Josh, "Also, I will need Jonathan Brisby to come along too to give me a hand." Castor seemed sceptical, almost as if sensing the human and Brisby were plotting something. However, figuring as long as he had the children were under his control, he held the upper hand, he agreed to Josh's requests without argument and ordered the guards to prepare a patrol to go up the mountain.
Half an hour later, the group, consisting of Josh, Jonathan and two of Castor's best guards, armed with swords and crossbows were ready to set off. The Exiles had returned Josh's space suit and tools as promised. He and Jonathan weren't even fitted with shackles, allowing them better mobility for their trek up the mountain. It seemed almost too easy; but before giving them the word to depart, Castor approached Josh and fixed him with a threatening gaze.
"Be warned, human – if you or Brisby try anything, anything at all, the children are dead! If I don't hear from you by sundown, they die; if this escapade turns out to be a waste of my time, they die. We'll be watching you every step of the way." But rather than feeling intimidated by this scoundrel's threats, Josh merely gave him an equally murderous look.
"Mark my words, Castor – you've made yourself a mortal enemy in me. When the time comes, I will kill you personally! Just remember that!" Castor only spat in Josh's face in response, completely unfazed by the human's threat. After all, what had he to fear? Just as his master had said, the human would do anything if it meant protecting the lives of those worthless mouse brats he cared so much about. As long as he held his cutlass to their throats, he could fear no retaliation whatsoever.
"Remember human – till sundown!"
Without another word, the party set off – Josh and Jonathan led the way, followed by their two escort guards, who kept their crossbows locked and loaded and poised to shoot the instant one of the prisoners tried to run. Not that they could escape, even if they tried; without a guide, and with Josh's instruments still down from the mountains' magnetic interference, they'd never find their way down from the mountain.
Jonathan, who hadn't seen daylight in nearly four years, felt absolutely exhilarated to be outdoors again, but his physical condition wasn't exactly up to scratch. After years of imprisonment in solitary confinement, with little or no food, he was no longer the fit, athletic young mouse he used to be. Every few minutes, he'd pause to catch his breath, staggering with every step.
"Move it, Brisby, you useless weakling!" barked one of the Rat guards, jabbing Jonathan in the back with the tip of his sword, while the other laughed sadistically, "On your feet, I say, or I'll throw you over the cliff right here!" Ignoring the two thugs, Josh helped Jonathan up. He had suggested that Jonathan remain behind, so he wouldn't have to watch his back, but the young mouse, eager to help Josh in his plan to save his children, would hear none of it.
"You know what to do?" he whispered into Jonathan's ear as he kept on walking up the mountain along a traitorous footpath overlooking a cloudy chiasm, "Remember, once we get up there, we'll only have one good shot at this."
"No talking! Move!" shouted the guards.
Several hours later, they reached the top of the mountain. Below them stretched the misty crater of the dead volcano, wide as an amphitheatre of granite, strewn with jagged rocks and centuries-long-extinguished volcanic tubes. And in the centre of the crater stood the TEM-One.
Making their way down the slippery slope of icy rocks and into the crater, the group approached the probe, which stood there in all its rickety ugliness, like a giant mechanical spider. Josh could see it had indeed landed intact and stood upright on its landing strut. Best he could figure, after clearing the storm and losing contact, the automated guidance system had somehow rebooted and initiated the automatic landing sequence, bring it down into a smooth vertical touchdown using its descend-stage hydrazine boosters. Atop it stood the ion-booster ascend stage, which housed the sample-return container and algae payload for the terraforming operations, both of which appeared undamaged. Now, the probe sat there quietly, waiting for eternity for someone to recall it home.
Although nowhere near as elaborate or robust as the manned pods Josh piloted, the unmanned probe had its own remarkable feat of engineering. Its four hydraulic arms – a mechanical hand for rock sample collecting, an algae water-cannon for seedling, a laser drill, and a sensor package – had deployed and were stretched out at uneven angles, frozen in place. On two retractable mounting platforms on either side were the communication arrays, including a parabolic dish, low-gain radio antenna, a spectrometer and two shielded cameras, one visual, one inferred. The ramp to the rover's garage had been lowered and the little six-wheel rover stood a few yards away from the probe on its back. It seemed it had been going around the probe in circles, waiting for a command from its operator as per its programming until it had driven over a stone, flipped over, received a traverse error and shut down. A few indicator lights still blinked dully on the probe, indicating she still had power.
Guess I'm eating my own words, Fitzgibbons, thought Josh, Your damn machines apparently had more potential in it than I thought.
Not wasting any time, he hurryingly unpacked his tools from his tool-pouch and, handing Jonathan a wrench, they got to work. He knew they only had a minute or two before their guards figured out this wasn't what Castor had sent them up here for and realised the deception. Josh turned to a sealed panel on the side of the ascend stage and got to work with his power-ratchet, undoing the screws. The panel creaked open, revealing a rudimentary keypad and a system status display screen, which was the probe's maintenance port.
His fingers dancing over the keypad, like a teenager on his Smartphone, Josh punched in a sequence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jonathan was doing his own part of the job nicely, undoing the nut bolts of the algae sprinkler attached to the end of one of the probe's arms. The screen scrambled, bringing up a graph showing the probe's robotic arms in motion...
Meanwhile, the guards were staring curiously at this weird, human-made contraption the human and Brisby were working on. Although they didn't know the slightest thing about spacecraft or flying, their tough military instincts told them something was up. This machine somehow didn't fit the description their master's informant had given them. If so, then why had that human led them up here? What he was playing at? Realising they were being played, one approached and grabbed Josh by the arm.
"This isn't your flying machine, you damn, lying human!" he barked, "What is your game...?" But Josh never gave him a chance to finish, as he punched the execute key, activating the final sequence.
"Now, Jonathan!"
Before the Rats could even realise they'd walked right into a trap, Jonathan had pulled the water-cannon free from its mounting and, cradling it under his arm like a Gatling gun, aimed it directly at the guard nearest to him. The nozzle burst, unleashing a torrent of algae and ammonia soup with the force of a fireman's hose, showering the Rat and blasting him backwards.
This sudden disturbance in turn distracted Josh's guard for a split second – just long enough for the man to punch in a second command, activating another of the mechanical arms - the one with the manipulator. Like a giant scorpion's pincer, the thing came swinging from behind, grapping the unsuspecting Rat by the neck and lifting him off the ground. With one bad guy neutralized, like lightning, Josh reached into his survival kit, taking out his last signal flare. Before the algae-drenched Rat lying on the ground nearby could recover, the flare came flying his way like an executioner's bullet.
The oxygen-rich, highly volatile algae burst into flame like benzene, immolating the bastard alive. In less than a minute, the screams of the dying Rat had ceased and only a charred skeleton dressed in scorched armour plating lay smoking on the ground amidst a pile of ashes. The appalling stench of burnt flesh and fur made Josh fight the urge to vomit. Still shaken by what they had just done, he turned to Jonathan.
"Perfect timing, Jonathan, old boy," he said, shaking the explorer's hand, "We make quite a team!" Jonathan likewise returned the congratulations.
"I couldn't have done it without you, Josh," he said, giving the human a friendly pat on the back, "Eh, what do we do with him?" They turned to the second Rat, still struggling with the manipulator holding him by the throat. No amount of strength on his part could loosen the iron grip the hydraulic pincer had on his neck. It was time for an interrogation.
"All right, mate," said Josh to their guard-turned-prisoner, "Where is Castor holding the children back at the hideout? And who is his secret master, who is directing his moves? Well?" The Rat merely glared at the pair of them. Like the majority of his fellow outlaws, his fear of punishment for failure from Castor far outweighed anything these two could throw at him. Frankly, he'd be better off dead – and he'd still have revenge when his master killed those brats in retaliation.
"I won't tell you anything," he sneered, chocking from the manipulator's tight grip, "You've made a fatal mistake, human. Now the children's blood will be on your hands!" Josh responded by hitting another key on the probe's keypad, causing the manipulator to tighten even more until it was only a step away from cutting clean through the Rat's windpipe. Yet their prisoner still didn't lose his bravado. Instead, he turned to sneer at Jonathan.
"You hear me, Brisby?" he rasped, struggling to breathe, "Your children will die for this! Such a pity – we would have so much enjoyed the pleasure of your daughters in bed! Our jailor, Moe, has his way with little girls, you know - he mutilates them after he rapes them...!"
The time for talking was over. With a roar of rage, Jonathan aimed the algae cannon at the Rat, also drenching him with the flammable slime and then Josh set it ablaze. The sadistic Rat's laughter was drowned by the screams of his death agonies. In another minute, a second charred skeleton was left hanging in the scorched manipulator's grip.
With both guards dead, the two friends, now free and clear, turned their attention back to their next task. As far as they could see, there were two options open to them: either trek back down the mountain to Josh's pod and escape, or go back to the hideout and rescue the children. Jonathan had made it clear he wouldn't be leaving the mountain without his children and Josh shared his sentiments. If they were lucky, they had precisely until sundown before Castor realised what they were up to.
"So what's the plan, then?"
"We need communications," said Josh, "If we can let Nicodemus and the others know where we are, we can call in reinforcements." He turned back to the probe. There were a number of useful components they could salvage from her, including a UHF radio normally used to relay data back to the mothership.
Aside from being the pod pilot, like every member of the Nimh-One's crew, Josh's backup position was that of assistant mission engineer and thus knew how to take apart any piece of equipment they'd brought up here and put it back together again. With some tinkering and improvising, he could build a number of useful things using scavenged parts from this probe.
While Jonathan went to retrieve the rover, which they'd need for their endeavour, Josh turned his attention to a sealed box at the base of the antenna array. Prying the cover off of it, he was able to gain access to its electronic innards which made up the probe's UHF radio, powered by a 48-volt source. Removing the obstructing tray of heat sinks, which kept the temperature of the delicate radio components balanced during operation, he began dismantling.
Once they'd collected all the necessary components and set up shop on a nearby rock, it was time to start construction. Putting the radio's two primary circuit-boards back together, with a cannibalised heat sink sandwiched between them to retain temperature and lashing them together with duct-tape was fairly simple; then came the tricky part of splicing its circuits back together and modifying the device so that it could handle voice transmissions. One of the probe's two dipole antennas was jury-rigged to the device for inception/reception and a scavenged solar cell from one of the rover's solar panels would provide power for the radio's battery.
Finally, Josh had put together something that could be mistaken for a 1950's loafer-sized, portable radio. Jonathan held up the device, pointing the solar cell towards the twin suns of Nimh-Beta. Using a cannibalised earphone from his suit's taccom, Josh got on the air. If someone was still listening on the transmitter he had left with Nicodemus, they should be able to establish contact.
"Nicodemus? Justin? Anybody? This is Josh! Does anybody hear me?" The thing seemed to be working, a blinking light on the circuit board showing it was transmitting. But only static could be heard. Enhancing the signal strength, he tried again. "Nicodemus? Elizabeth? Are you there...?"
Back in Rosebush City, Nicodemus, Justin, Brutus, Mr Ages and Elizabeth were still in the King's study where they'd set up the transmitter, waiting for any word from Josh. It had been a whole day and night and still nothing. None of them had eaten or slept since losing contact, especially Elizabeth, who was fretting like mad, her eyes bloodshot after hours of sobbing. If something had happened to Josh, then her children were as good as lost.
Jenner had only made matters worse by dropping by, as casually as he was heartless, with a reminder from the Council that the deadline expired at sundown, after which his Uncle's Plan would be officially scrapped. When he had offered his 'deepest condolences' to Elizabeth, pointing out that her human friend had most likely joined the Exiles and that they were better off without him anyway, causing her to burst into tears, a furious Justin had kicked him out the room.
Unbeknownst to them, Jenner was also anxious for news – the news that his Exile allies were ready to initiate their pre-emptive strike against the City. Under his guidance, and using all the powers his supporters were bound to acquire after the human and Jonathan Brisby had finished deciphering Castor's piece of the Stone, Nicodemus would be faced with a string of bombings throughout the kingdom which the Exiles would deliver by air. That stinking human of course would take the blame for it all, whilst his Uncle, powerless to stop this terror, would be forced to abdicate in disgrace, leaving him, Jenner, to assume the throne.
As they sat there, pondering what they should do now, they were all caught off-guard when the transmitter on Nicodemus' desk, silent for hours, suddenly started buzzing with an incoming signal. Although just a weak, heavily distorted signal, they could make out Josh's voice between gaps in the transmission.
"...This is Josh, transmitting in the blind...infiltrated Exile lair...captured...found children and J-...Does anybody read me...?" They were all on their feet instantly. Josh was still alive!
"Josh, it's me, Justin. We hear you! Are you there?"
"...Can't hear you very well...could use a rescue...send reinforcements..."
An ecstatic Elizabeth threw herself across the desk, crying tearfully into the transmitter, "Josh! Oh, Josh, thank the Great Owl and all His mercies! Please come back to me! I love you, Josh! I love you so much!" By the time Justin had managed to calm her down, the radio had gone silent again...
TEM-One Landing Site
Volcanic Peak, Dark Mountains
Josh and Jonathan were overjoyed to finally hear the voice of Justin on the other end, realising their signal had gotten through. Now, at last, someone on the outside knew of their situation. Jonathan was even more delighted to hear his wife's voice call out. After four years of imprisonment in that living tomb the Exiles had cast him into, his hopes of returning to his family again were once more renewed, making his heart swell with happiness – a happiness that was instantly shattered however when he heard Elizabeth's words.
"...Please come back to me! I love you, Josh! I love you so much...!"
Josh felt his insides curl up in anticipation as he watched Jonathan's face turn blank with shock. Then his expression turned cold and angry as he rounded on Josh, who needn't bother explain. Any fool could tell poor Jonathan knew the bitter truth that his beloved wife, the mother of his children, had in fact fallen for another man, and a human at that!
For the while, neither of them spoke a word; Josh simply couldn't find the words to explain himself or the graveness of the mistake he had made by courting Elizabeth, and Jonathan the pain and outrage at this unforgivable betrayal. Josh turned back to the radio, only to discover they had lost the signal due to magnetic interference from the mountains. Without having had enough time to tell Justin their location, they were on their own – only question was, were they still allies or adversaries?
"We're going to Plan B," he told Jonathan, trying to change the subject, "We have to infiltrate the lair and get the children out ourselves..." Unfortunately, Jonathan wasn't about to just banish from his mind everything he had just heard so easily. He rounded angrily on Josh.
"So, you were intimate with my wife all along?" he demanded, "And to think I trusted you! What did you do to Elizabeth, huh? Brainwash her into falling for you? A human? What, you thought you'd take advantage of my family right under my nose?" Despite his guilt, Josh got really angry at this accusation. Strictly speaking, he hadn't wronged anybody by falling in love with Elizabeth; after all, the entire world, she included, firmly believed Jonathan to be dead. How the hell was he supposed to know?
"Look, Jonathan, I realise this must come as quite a shock, but it's something beyond either our control..." What words could describe this? Bad luck? Stupidity on both their parts? Neither was to blame more that the other. Jonathan however didn't think so. As far as he was concerned, Josh was ultimately responsible for this and he would pay!
"Beyond your control? Ha, that's rich! Perhaps you were also thinking of leaving me here to die, so that you could claim Elizabeth for yourself? You damn coward!" That pretty much tore it and Josh angrily punched Jonathan in the mouth, sending him staggering backwards with a busted lip.
"How dare you!" he shouted, "I've never been a coward in my life! You were the one you ran out on your family in search of a little glory, so it's your own damn fault!" He turned to get back to his work before he did something he regretted, but Jonathan, feeling outright murderous by now and determined to settle their score right there and then, reached out and picked up the discarded sword from one of the dead Rats.
Before Josh could realise he had trouble, he felt the handle of the sword bludgeon him like a sledge-hammer in the back of the head with brute force. Thinking his skull was about to split open, he staggered, tripping over the probe's landing strut and landing dazed on his back. Before his vision had even cleared, he saw the outline of Jonathan loom over him, the sword blade held level with his throat. The mouse had a murderous look in his eyes, his expression spelling something along the lines of asking whether he wanted to say his prayers before the death blow came.
"You want to do it?" he asked Jonathan, "Then get it over with." He raised his hands above his head, giving him a clear shot. All it would take was one good stab and Jonathan would drive the sword down Josh's mouth and out through the back of his head. Jonathan's hand quivered – despite his anger, he had never killed in cold blood before and didn't wish that for anyone, not even Josh.
"You'll be doing us both a great favour," Josh urged him on, "I have nothing left to live for on this planet without Elizabeth. This way, I find peace and you get your family back. Go on!" Jonathan looked as if he wanted to be sick, fighting the urge to take Josh's advice and finish it. He could kill the human and then throw the body off the cliff into the abyss. There were no witnesses around to prove it was murder and, with Josh out of the way, he could go back to his family as he knew it. Why have Elizabeth's heart halved between the two of them? Why not save them all the trouble? However, Jonathan Brisby still had more of a heart in him to do something that crude. He dropped the sword.
"No, I can't do this," he told Josh, helping him up, "You're right, no one is to blame. And I'm not becoming a murderer like Castor. Please forgive me."
"Jonathan, look, I..." But Jonathan held up a hand to cut him off.
"You risked your life to save my children from those thugs," he told Josh, "For that, I forgive you for whatever happened between you and Elizabeth. However, I'm going to make myself absolutely clear," he added, "Once we're safely off this mountain, it's all over. My family is off-limits to you. Do I have your word on it?" Josh slowly nodded. Of course he wouldn't stand between Jonathan and his family, he had no right to. But knowing that he would be forced to give up on Elizabeth forever almost made him wish Jonathan had killed him now.
Turning back to the task at hand, they considered their options. If they were to go along with their crazy plan of infiltrating the Exile's lair again single-handedly, they'd need weapons – not just a proper weapon, but something that would evenly match them against the enemy's overwhelming numbers. Josh turned to examine the probe.
There was plenty of reserve hydrazine left in the probe's fuel tanks, but he dared not mess with those; when it came in contact with oxidisers, hydrazine released highly unstable hydrogen gas which exploded when it came in contact with air. A hydrazine Molotov was about as reliable a weapon as bottle of nitro. Scratch one possibility. The probe had heavy metal parts with sharp edges that could be used for improvising crude weapons, but those wouldn't be much use against an army of Exiles! Then, Josh's eyes lit up as he spotted the laser drill on the end of the probe's manipulator.
Remembering from the NIMH's engineers who had built this thing, this high-frequency laser was intended to cut blocks off the hardest of rocks for sampling. In direct contrast to old-fashioned drill-heads however, this prototype laser had a far greater efficiency and speed than any other tool in their toolkit. Utilising it as a weapon, well, Josh figured whatever could cut clean through solid granite would definitely cut through flesh and bone.
Tools in hand, they got to work, unfastening the laser from its mounting. The thing was held in place by a number of tight metal straps held together by bolts, which they had to undo one by one before it finally came loose. Then, they disconnected the power cables, which were attached to it by a series of complicated plugs.
The heavy laser, cylindrically-shaped, with a pointed tip from where the lethal red beam came from, had no handles, so Josh resorted to using a length of wire to improvise a strap with which it could be carried over his shoulder, with the laser hanging at his side. Then came the question of power. Lasers, unlike standard firearms, needed electricity to work, a lot of it - in this case 200 volts at 15 Amps. None of the batteries Josh had would do for this.
He thought about using the battery from the rover, but found it was only 48 volts, nowhere powerful enough. His suit battery was equally ineffective. That left just one alternative: the primary unobtainium radioisotope thermoelectric generator, known as the URTG, that powered the probe's ion booster. Josh couldn't remember exactly how powerful it was, but it would have to do. And, sure, one might hesitate at the idea of walking around carrying a container of live radioactive mass, but it wasn't that which worried Josh.
From the moment Jonathan had agreed to call a truce as long as he never got close to Elizabeth again, Josh's mind had been pondering on his alternative: find a way off this damn planet. This probe could be his ticket home. But by cannibalising the probe's power supply for his laser, he'd inevitably be rendering it flightless. Calm down, he reassured himself. As long as he didn't damage the URTG, he could always replace it once the job was done. It wouldn't run down by using it to power the laser.
Punching a few commands into the probe's computer, shutting down all key systems, he turned to the URTG's housing, which was accessible through a small hatch on the side of the ascend stage. Prying it open, he saw the end of the radioisotope generator inserted in its slot between the boosters. Doing a quick check with his Geiger counter, to ensure the container wasn't breached, he grabbed hold of its handles and pulled it out. Then, he detached the power feeds trailing away of it. The probe's computer brought up a warning icon of low power levels before it went dark. The probe was dead.
Although hardly bigger than a diver's tank, the thing weighed over a hundred pounds, making it necessary to use some more wire to make straps so they could carry both the laser and power supply around on their backs like an elaborate machine gun. Rigging the laser to the RTG with some leftover wire and improvising a crude triggering system with leftover parts from the radio – a little time-delay switch on the side of the laser -, they tested it out.
Aiming at a nearby rock, Josh fired a shot. The laser's head glowed bright red, making a nerve-wracking buzzing noise as an invisible red beam shot out. The watched as a red dot hit the target, drilling clean through the rock like a nail through cardboard. Sweeping the laser sideways, Josh sheered the top of the rock clean off, sending it crashing to the ground with a loud thud. Jonathan paled.
"Those Exiles are about to discover an entirely new definition to fear when they see that!" he muttered, glad he wasn't in their shoes. Josh heaved the weapon over his shoulder, armed and dangerous. They were now both ready to go to war.
Author's note: Sorry for the delay, but I have been busy all Easter and will continue to be until July. In the meantime, enjoy and please, please review!