Ace of Pentacles

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ciaran and Madeline entered an area that looked like a private train station. Madeline guessed the strange vehicle the size of a minibus and the shape of her vitamin pill was what they called a capsule, the key means of travel in Eudaiz. While Madeline gawked at the capsule, Ciaran entered and manned the capsule with ease—no more difficult than driving his sports cars on Earth.

Ciaran entered their destination of Sciphil One residence on the control panel. A robotic voice said, “Destination: Sciphil One residence. Trip duration: five time slots. Gate security notification confirmed. Tunnel security check: one hundred percent.”

Ciaran executed the trip. They barely felt the movement of the capsule. Madeline could tell they were moving based on the trip progress report and the percentage of completion displayed on a map on the screen.

Something suddenly hit the capsule, pushing it slightly aside. Ciaran pressed the assist button, but it didn’t respond. He tried the red rescue system. It flashed once briefly, and then the entire system in the capsule died.

They felt another hit at their side. The wall of the capsule melted away, leaving a large hole. White smoke poured in.

Ciaran shoved at the door lever to open it. It wouldn’t budge. He used his dagger to stab at the air cushion of the doorframe. He loosened it and pushed the door open. Ciaran and Madeline jumped out just before it shriveled into a pile of melted material.

A whirl of wind sucked the melted material toward the outside of the tunnel via a large hole. Ciaran and Madeline were pulled toward it by an incredible force. Ciaran grabbed the edge of the broken wall with one hand and held fast to Madeline with the other. Her body hung halfway outside the tunnel, drawn by the vacuum of the atmosphere.

There was no breathable air on the other side of the tunnel, and Madeline drifted in and out of consciousness. She could no longer hang on to Ciaran. He pulled her inward—against the intense force of the suction—and swung her back inside the tunnel. He climbed back inside and carried Madeline away from the ominous hole.

A small spaceship then plugged itself into the hole, and six identical human-looking soldiers exited, charging at Ciaran with weapons similar to guns. Ciaran laid Madeline down on the floor and pulled his daggers. The creatures shot at him. His clothes were beam-proof, so the lasers that struck him bounced off his vest. Quick as lightning, he charged. In what seemed like no time at all, their body parts littered the floor of the tunnel, melting into black puddles and evaporating. Ciaran grabbed their guns.

Madeline had recovered after breathing in some inside air. She approached and grabbed two guns for herself.

“Are you okay to walk?” Ciaran asked.

She nodded.

“We should move quickly before something else comes.”

They ran in the direction the capsule had been traveling before its meltdown. A rumbling sound echoed from the hole. Ciaran looked back and saw a dozen robotic soldiers—covered in steel and brandishing swords—closing in on them.

Ciaran and Madeline pulled their guns and fired. The guns caused absolutely no damage to the robots.

“Use the daggers. There are gaps in their armor between their necks and bodies and holes in the center of their breastplates,” Ciaran said quickly. Madeline drew her daggers. Ciaran pushed her behind him, fighting and withdrawing at the same time.

Ciaran knew when he had the advantage in a fight—and when he didn’t. This time, he knew they had no advantage. They were outnumbered. And these robots seemed smarter than those he had killed before. They focused on the weaker opponent—they were concentrating their attack on Madeline.

Ciaran took down three of them. The robots slashed at him. Their swords slashed through his protective vest.

One of them sliced at Madeline’s left arm. Blood seeped out from her protective clothes, running down her forearm.

It dawned on him that he wouldn’t be able to protect Madeline if the fight continued. He hadn’t had time to plan. He didn’t know anything about these creatures.

Mere fist fighting was a stupid move.

“That’s enough,” Ciaran said. He dropped his daggers and raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

He held his breath. He didn’t know if they understood English, but he figured his gesture of surrender was universal.

Or in this case, multiversal . . .

He could only hope.