From the Forthcoming Fantasy/Sci-Fi Novel, Creations
TROIN
Jonas Udell checked
his reflection against a glass table, while he attempted to remove something
from his left eye. The young dark-skinned man had short black hair and a thin
well-manicured beard.
“Hope your new eye isn’t failing,
Udell. Can’t have you shooting the wrong guy,” Troin Captain, Sammond Muirfield
joked patting the young soldier’s back.
Udell chuckled still watching his
reflection, “I’m good just an eye lash. Got it.” He blinked repeatedly as his
left eye readjusted.
“Good. I was hoping your surgery
hadn’t gone bad.”
“No. Corrective surgery went
perfectly, no vision problems. I don’t even need my contact lense either,”
Udell proudly announced. His eye had been damaged in a battle just outside the
city of Medatroy only a month ago, yet a skillful Shiravian doctor transplanted
a new eye and his vision was again pristine. Only slight scarring around the
edge of his eye socket alluded to his past injury.
“The things doctors can do now, eh?”
Captain Muirfield said half-jokingly, now seated beside Udell watching the
underwater scenery flash by through a large window before him. “Ryder, how far
are we from Dormi?”
In the front of the domed ship sat
the pilot, Nathan Ryder the third and final member of the Troin. He maneuvered
the underwater vessel, called an Ooba,
as it sliced through the water at great speed. The ship itself was designed
like a tear drop, which pushed through the water with its propulsion engine,
and as the water slid down the narrowing backside it aided the ships speed and
agility, much like a whale. A large rudder was positioned in the tail section
to steer.
“We are thirty miles out from the
mouth of the Obsidian River, Captain.” Ryder spoke with a deep voice and
confident tone, like someone who felt at ease in his work. “We will reach the
river in less than twenty minutes.”
“Good,” The Captain replied sounding
pleased. “Let me know when we are five miles out, Ryder.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Through the glass window Udell
watched as schools of orange fish darted away when they approached. Shimmering
light from the sun above trickled down through the water aiding their journey,
but it wouldn’t be much longer before night would come, making their efforts
far more treacherous.
Captain Muirfield placed his
Telliture on top of the glass table and tapped its front with his finger. The
device illuminated.
“Zobier,” Muirfield spoke calling
for a specific file. His voice recognition was accepted. His Telliture glowed
brightly. Captain Muirfield and Udell stepped back away from the table to see
the image that appeared before them. A large scale holographic drawing of the
Isle of Dormi and its capital city, Tecian, came into focus in grand detail,
down to the swaying branches of the jungle and rushing waters of the Obsidian
River.
“Damn.” Was Udell’s simplistic
reply.
“It never fails to amaze me,”
Captain Muirfield added.
Udell studied the intricate map. It
looked lifelike, every detail so clear it was as though he was hovering above
the island like a god. He reached out his hand touching a point near the Tecian
City. The image blurred momentarily, and zoomed in closer, focusing on the area
Udell had selected. His eyes widened. He was standing in the jungle, with no
sound.
“What are you doing?” Captain
Muirfield curtly asked. “Are you done? Caz I am working here.”
“Sorry, Captain.”
Captain Muirfield gave him a sly
wink then placed both hands outstretched into the image. He swung them outward
as though he stretched the jungle causing the original map to reappear.
“Well, then. Let me see.” The
captain tapped his index finger against his lips. His narrow face reflected the
lights eerily, making his eyes seem like they were missing and all that
remained where black spaces.
“The Elite want us to steer the Ooba
up through the river mouth and navigate this channel to the Tecian City.”
Captain Muirfield pointed his finger and ran it along the edge of the map being
careful not to touch it and alter the image again.
“How far do you suppose that is?”
Udell asked.
“Fourty-eight point two miles,”
shouted Ryder.
“Well, there’s your answer. Thank
you, Ryder.”
The Ooba pilot peeked around the
back of his chair and smiled widely, his bright white teeth gleaming in the
poorly lit tub that kept them dry.
It grew increasingly dimmer outside
the Ooba. The sun had almost set.
“Captain, we are within five miles
of the Obsidian River now.”
“Thank you, again,” Captain
Muirfield absently responded; however, he didn’t break focus on the holographic
map consuming a great portion of their vessel. He reached out and tapped the
mouth of the river. The image blurred like before and then zoomed into the
rushing waters. Captain Muirfield scanned the white foamy area for anything
dangerous; rocks or trees that may have collapsed in from the jungle, creatures
lurking about.
“How deep are these waters,
Captain?” Udell searched for the river’s basin on the image before him.
Captain Muirfield hesitated to
answer, and peered out around to find Nathan Ryder. When his pilot didn’t
respond, the captain assumed he was unaware.
Captain Muirfield began to respond,
when the confident voice returned from the front of the ship.
“Obsidian River is the deepest in
all Angora. Its average depth is nearly eight-hundred feet.”
Udell and Captain Muirfield shared a
chuckle and shook their heads.
“What an ass,” Udell barbed.
“What?” Ryder called unable to hear.
“You’re an ass!” Udell shouted in
laughter. He was the joker in the group, and rarely lost the opportunity to jab
at Ryder.
Ryder didn’t appear very pleased.
Captain Muirfield and Udell’s
attention quickly returned to the map and followed it up the river. It wouldn’t
be very dangerous, unless detected by the Dormeans.
“Our goal is to find a safe place to
dock the Ooba, and then debark and enter the city near the waterfall,” The
captain explained.
“Wait, waterfall?” Udell said in
shock.
“You don’t know about the
waterfall!” Ryder shouted. He usually got worked up when someone didn’t know
something that he believed was common knowledge.
“No, what about it, Teach!” Udell
snarked, knowing full well that Ryder would most certainly explain. These three
had been working together now for months spending much of their time with one
another. Udell was well aware of how much Ryder loved to share his wealth of
knowledge.
“It is the crowning jewel of the
island. The Obsidian River flows directly through the Tecian City and cascades
down the backside of the island into the Biln Ocean.” He said as though
reciting it directly from an encyclopedia. “The entire island gathers its power
from the rushing waters falling over the cliff,” Ryder eagerly explained.
“So the damn river goes through the
city! I have to see this,” Udell crassly exclaimed. He wasn’t one for political
correctness and often said whatever was on his mind.
“Actually, it goes through the
capital building,” Captain Muirfield added, reaching through the hologram and
tapping the Telliture closing the image. “And it’s pretty amazing.”
Captain Muirfield enjoyed working
with these two men, even though they quarreled like school boys most of the
time. He just ignored that for the most part. Ryder was the best pilot in
Angora, as far as he was concerned, and Udell was an accomplished weapons
expert. Together they formed a Troin that had become a very dangerous weapon
for the Shirum Elite, and Shiravian Deluge, as they worked for both.
Ryder gripped the control stick
firmly as the Ooba darted toward the foamy, churning waters at the mouth of the
Obsidian River. The rushing sounds from earlier had changed drastically now. A
steady pinging sound echoed through the Ooba’s hull as the raging waters from
the river poured over them slamming rocks and wooden decay from the jungle
around its banks.
“Look out!” Udell hollered as a
large black object barreled down upon them.
Ryder sent the Ooba diving down. The
object was swept into their flow stream and it harmlessly zipped past. Then
another larger piece appeared, and Ryder rolled the vessel to the right, and
back left. More objects, some rocks and chunks of debris churned up in the
water hurtling toward them. Through the Ooba’s thick glass window, the three
Troin members could see just how dangerous this mission had become. The mood
grew somber, crew silent.
Maybe
this is going to be more difficult than I thought? Captain Muirfield
thought. This river seems like its
testing us.
Ryder
desperately steered them through the labyrinth, but couldn’t avoid them all. He
ascended narrowly escaping again. His latest maneuver had brought them
perilously close to cresting above the river. At the river’s edge, a large
section gave way to the current’s brute force. The water swept away a great
piece of land forcing it into the depths below. A wide tree remained behind,
roots exposed, dangling for dear life above the cackling mists. The water
nipped at it, snatching and grabbing the roots. The tree fought valiantly, but
finally succumb to the rivers might and splashed down. It pierced the river
like a knife and cut directly toward the Ooba.
“Ryder!”
Captain Muirfield bellowed.
“I see it!”
Ryder exclaimed as he steered the vessel against the ever shifting current. The
objects in the water caused the currents to alter rapidly.
The crew shouted as the Ooba swung
violently to its side. Udell crashed hard into the glass table fracturing it,
yet it held together.
The tree scrapped along-side the
Ooba, its branches smashing and breaking off along the steel framed vessel. The
Ooba flipped and spun in a circle before coming to a rest upside down.
“Right us!” Captain Muirfield
demanded gripping the pilot chair, legs dangling toward the Ooba’s ceiling.
Ryder whipped the control stick
righting the vessel. Captain Muirfield and Udell fell to the floor.
Outside the river calmed.
“We are through the river mouth,
Captain.”
Udell grimaced as Captain Muirfield
pushed the warm needle through his forehead. A thin line of blood trailed down
around his eye, rolled across his cheek and dripped from his bearded chin, a
wound courtesy of his tumbling about the Ooba like a shirt in the dryer.
Captain Muirfield bit his lip cautiously as he focused on the task at hand,
attempting to stitch the line as evenly as possible, which was difficult as the
Ooba randomly bounced in the free flowing waters of the river.
The waters were clearer now, but
dark and extremely deep. They travelled nearly three hundred feet below sea
level, yet the river’s bottom was impossible to see.
The Shiravian Troin’s uniforms were
identical to that of their brethren the Deluge, except for one detail, the
color was a deep navy blue. It made it difficult to see the blood stains on
Udell’s uniform even from up close.
Captain Muirfield handed Udell a
bloodied rag when he had finished stitching the gash on the soldier’s forehead.
“It isn’t the greatest stitch job
ever, but it will have to do. I’m sorry. This damn thing is bouncing too much.”
Captain Muirfield wiped his hands clean of the blood. He sighed heavily. The mood was drastically different now. They
were closing in upon their destination.
“Ryder,” the captain called.
“Yes, Sir,” Ryder replied never
removing his sight from the dark waters before him fearing that something might
jump out at that very moment.
“Any sign of our enemies?” The
Captain had been forewarned of Dormean activity in these waters just outside
the Tecian City. Governess Zobier had taken many precautions in keeping herself
safe. The Elite had spoken of small-manned vessels that were used to travel
underwater and guard the city from intruders…like them.
Ryder checked his sonar. “Nothing,
Sir. Except debris it appears. It is hard to tell though. We are seven miles
out. If we are going to find resistance, it should be now,” Ryder detailed
hands remained firmly upon the steering mechanism.
Udell remained seated on the cold
steel floor dabbing the damp cloth against his freshly stitched wound. Well this isn’t going very well. We haven’t
even arrived yet and I’m already bleeding.
The injured
soldier closed his eyes. His head pulsed with a dull ache. Captain Muirfield
had given him a shot of medicine to help with the pain, but it was weak
compared to the now illegal, Aspitor, the once approved pain-reliever for the
military before it was found to be addictive.
When Udell
opened his eyes again everything seemed so far away. The sounds reverberated,
elongating their pitch. His heart slowed to keep rhythm with the propulsion
system that aided them within the current. A tingling sensation arose in his
fingers and toes. Udell raised his right hand to his face, examining his
fingers. Each seemed longer than before, knife-like yet brittle. How much blood have I lost, he thought.
He didn’t feel dizzy or faint, just stretched.
In the dark, warm, rapidly flowing
waters of the Obsidian River, two Bubblans released into the waters. These
small-manned vessels were agile, and shaped much like the Ooba. Inside, the
Dormean operator lay flat on his stomach and pulled on levels at their sides to
control the Bubblans movements. It would be difficult for them to attack a
vessel, even one as small as the Ooba, Bubblans were designed for travel not
warfare. It would, however, allow the Dormeans to secretly observe the
Shiravian trespassers attempting to enter the Tecian City.
Copyright Held by: Christopher M. Purrett
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