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The Dreamside Road
90 - The Antler Clan

90 - The Antler Clan

“This is the uh, Rio Persistente.” Orson parked the Aesir in the shade. The banks around the river marked the beginning of a swath of foliage that stretched to the south and west, toward the laboratory its grounds. “It should take us through the complex, if we can get set up that I can steer on the river.”

Together, they peeled the outer coating from the Aesir, removing the paneling that gave the appearance of the box truck cab and trailer. Orson undid the magnetic clamps at the front grill and each of the wheel wells. He climbed onto the roof and did the same, separating the covering into individual sheets, which could be removed.

They hid the panels, out of sight of aerial observers, no more than roadside detritus, forgotten.

“I hope we can come back for this stuff.” Orson thumped his hand against the side of the false truck cab paneling. “We’ve had this for almost ten years.”

“But why did you have it?” Jaleel sat on the ground, beside Enoa. They spread out the sensor tarp, flat across the ground. “I mean, why else would you need to make the Aesir look like a snake bite truck.”

“We were going after this cult of arsonists.” Orson joined them with the tarp. They affixed portable cameras across the material, before moving it beside the Aesir. “We were already getting a reputation because of the whole Blitzkrieg thing so we needed something tricky. Actually, you two know Dr. Lopez. She started learning medicine specializing in antivenom, and she gave us the idea.”

Orson triggered his repulsor and leaped over the ship, spreading the tarp around it. They pinned the tarp into place, locking the metal rim of the covering to the Aesir’s hull with the same clamps that had held the antivenom disguise.

“It looks like you were right about where these should go.” Enoa tugged at one of the cameras, positioned roughly in the middle of the Aesir’s front grill. “They seem snug.”

“Good,” Orson said. “We don’t need them to fall off in the water and leave us blind.” He circled the ship, tapping at the cameras, before he went back inside.

He found the cabin empty. Enoa and Jaleel had gone to check on Wesley. They’d locked the aeropine’s cage into an apparatus Jaleel had added to his bunk’s seatbelt. Orson ran through the controls until the others returned.

“There’s supposed to be a boat dock about five miles downriver,” Orson said. “We’ll stop there and walk the last quarter-mile, just in case.”

“Um.” Jaleel walked to Orson’s side. He held a page from the typewriter. “We heard back from Eloise while we were outside.”

Be careful. Pacific Alliance tried to retrieve the Maros group. They are gone. Helmont got them. All of them. They gassed the entire motel where they were staying. Liberty Corps gassed every motel in over one hundred miles to get at them. It was nonlethal gas. As far as we know only the Maroses were taken. If Helmont did this for Maros. He will do a million times more to get at you. Find Doctor Stan and the others. Get out. Please.

“We should’ve gone for them together.” Enoa buckled herself in the passenger’s seat. “We easily could’ve saved them. They died trying to help us.”

“You don’t know that,” Orson said. “We could’ve been late too.”

Jaleel said nothing. He returned to his seat, holding the typewriter, staring forward, the reality of possible death in his eyes. Orson knew the look. He knew both of their expressions, the potential for horror and the burden of guilt.

“We’ll help Dr. Stan and the others.” Orson powered on the Aesir. He watched the windshield change to display the current camera feeds. Then he eased the ship into the water. “Then we’ll worry about the Maros crew.”

“If Helmont gassed all those people,” Enoa said. “He will hurt so many more to get at us. Eloise is right. How many people will he hurt to get at Littlefield or anyone who fought against him?”

“I see what you’re getting at.” Orson tapped at one of his display controls. “But you can’t do this to yourself.” He hoped he could enlarge the view from the center camera and better see the waterway around them. Persistente had a slow current and was only just deep enough to be truly considered a river, but his perceptions had been reduced. He could no longer see the sky. He could no longer prepare for attack from anywhere but the main cardinal directions.

“Can’t do what?” Enoa asked. “Can’t feel responsibility for the people who die because I didn’t bother helping them?” She shouted, as if she hoped the volume of her words could drown out her thoughts. “Can’t worry about who else will be hurt because they helped me, or because they knew me? Can’t worry about what these people will do to get at the Dreamside Road?”

“No,” Orson said. “You can’t. We need to do what we can to minimize the risk to others, but we are not responsible for the actions of murderers. Maros was in deep and if I can square things with him and his family, I will.

“But honestly, knowing Helmont went after a ton of places makes me feel better. He’s driven and he’s got a lot of resources, but I’ve fought that kind of person before. This was a Hail Mary move – trying to catch the Maroses, and so is this. The one way we would’ve been responsible for this shit would be negligent security standards. If Helmont is doing over-the-top leaps of logic, he’s dangerous, but it’s not our fault.”

“He wouldn’t go after Dr. Stan if we didn’t reach out to her for help!” Enoa yelled.

“Let me finish. Helmont isn’t our fault, but he is our responsibility. Be mad. I’m pissed as hell, but you need to have a clear mind for this. Helmont gave us a pretty good idea how he thinks and operates. He isn’t the Sherlock Holmes he’s pretending to be. He’s just making educated guesses, backed up by major resources, like I said. We can counter him, but this is the big leagues now. If you two aren’t comfortable with that, I understand, but I need to know now if you’re going to panic or if we’re going to figure this thing out.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Neither responded. They fell into a discomfited silence, as Orson guided them down the river. The trees around them got thicker. Sparse riverside foliage became an impenetrable mass. The desert flats could no longer be seen. The regional geographical distances could not be discerned, all swallowed by trees.

“Why do they call it Crystal Dune?” Jaleel asked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered the last, as if shocked by the sound of his own words, alarmed he’d broken the silence.

“The U.S. Air Force made this place eighty years ago.” Orson shrugged. “They added the trees to study rare flora and fauna about half that time ago. They did similar stuff at some of the other remote outposts, only this one supposedly has some really unique stuff, off the books unique.”

“Unique like our Wesley?” Jaleel asked.

“Something like that.” Orson glanced at Enoa, still silent, her eyes fixed on the windshield, attention flicking between camera feeds. “I don’t know a lot of details. We should’ve talked about this with Eloise and Carlos, back in town. They met through this place, through Carlos’s conservation work and Eloise’s interest in Kappa’s altered wildlife.”

Orson toggled between screens and selected the small computer model of the river’s path and the location of the approaching laboratory. He didn’t mention it, but somewhere, on the other side of the trees, they’d passed between the complex’s fencing.

The boat launch was not marked on the computer-generated map. He hadn’t taken the time to pinpoint it. His hurry to leave had overwhelmed his usual caution. Minutiae could decide the fate of any operation, but that was an easy lesson to lose under duress.

“Orson,” Jaleel asked. “How weird does this get?” He still sounded almost guilty for saying anything. “I mean, it’s like every time I think I’ve finally really got a good grip on what’s going on, it all gets stranger and more dangerous. Like, you stick your toe in and the water’s fine, but that’s just to trick you.”

“We’re scared right now because Helmont is gunning for us.” Orson watched the small computer model depict them moving deeper into the forest. ETA 25 minutes – not far. Soon they would face whatever had become of the scientists. “Ultimately, it’s the same shit we’ve been dealing with for months. The Hierarchia and the powers they served left serious messes behind after they died. We’re just cleaning up.”

Orson wondered, truly, how his compatriots would respond to true carnage. If Helmont wanted to do anything to keep them from the Dreamside Road, killing the scientists wasn’t some grand leap of logic. Orson wasn’t sure whether he could risk his young crewmembers seeing what might be waiting for them inside the lab.

Orson wasn’t sure whether he wanted them to see his response, either. He’d done brutal work in Littlefield, but that had been defense. If he needed to remove Helmont from the equation, that would be something he handled alone.

But this was not the moment to follow that thought to its conclusion.

The right-side camera picked up motion between the trees. The view enlarged and split into two windows, one displaying standard view, the other infrared. Orson saw multiple shapes, multiple heat signatures, moving together through the foliage.

He saw people wearing the bright blue uniforms of the League of Nations Scientific Advisory, as well as tall infrared signatures. On the standard view, these other figures blended into their surroundings, and wore none of the obvious colors of either the Advisory or of the Liberty Corps. The tops of the figures’ heads were indistinct and made strange soft blurs on the infrared scan.

“I’m seeing some people in Advisory uniforms… And I don’t know what else.” Orson edged the Aesir closer to the shore. “Do you have any issues with me parking and talking to these people?”

“If they are Advisory members, do you think they’d be safe coming with us?” Enoa asked. “Does Baron Helmont have anything that could hurt us with the shields up?”

“I don’t know,” Orson said.

“Are they looking at us?” Jaleel pointed at the windshield camera feeds. “I thought that tarp thing was like an invisibility cloak.”

“I don’t think those are real. The tarp just stops us from showing up on sensors.” Orson brought the Aesir onto the shore, the ship’s landing spikes gripping deep into the muddy earth. “I’m gonna step outside. If this is some trap, it’s better you stay ready to go. I’ll turn up the external mic so you can hear what’s up.”

Orson unbuckled himself and retrieved his sword. He ran through his usual check of his gear and weaponry.

“Are you sure you’re okay alone?” Enoa looked back at him. He was struck by how young she really was, how young she and Jaleel both were. They’d been little children when Orson had started his own adventures.

When he’d been their age, new to the road and hopeful, he would have been just as appalled by Helmont as they were.

“I am,” Orson said. “And if I get vaporized when I step out that door, Jaleel, fly out of here. Dial the velocity and the compensators to full and make a break for it, back for Littlefield. Call the Alliance. Do whatever you need to do to get to safety.”

“Don’t joke like that!” Jaleel unbuckled himself and slipped up to the pilot’s seat.

“I’m not.” Orson smiled before he pulled up his goggles and bandana. He opened the Aesir’s side door, keying the hatch so it would close behind him. Then he slipped under the tarp and stepped into the open.

His HUD caught sight of the motion immediately. He counted six figures in the Advisory coats and three tall shapes. The others were almost three meters tall. They had gangling limbs and moved with a careful gait.

Orson approached the tree line.

“Hello.” Orson spoke in an even level tone, not too loud to startle fearful fugitives, but loud enough to be heard over the distance between them.

One of the tall shapes emerged from the trees, headed straight at Orson.

The entity wasn’t human. It was heavily furred and walked on hind legs. Its forelimbs ended in strange appendages, neither hoof nor hand. The head was crowned with huge antlers. Its eyes appraised Orson with a wizened, amber stare.

The entity advanced toward him. It had a strange way of walking, quick steps, but with a motion that reminded him of a master stilt-walker or a dancer on tiptoe. Orson raised both hands, palms out.

“No, Ramses!” One of the Advisory group ran from the trees and stood between the entity and Orson. “This man is a friend. He is a friend.” He looked at Orson. “You are Captain Orson Gregory, correct?”

“That’s me.” Orson nodded. “Did my unique fashion sense give me away?”

“Yes,” the man said. “But you are expected. Baron Helmont’s forces are waiting for you.”

The entity began to step around the man, eyes still fixed on Orson. The man kept himself in front of the being. “Please bow your head to Ramses,” he said. The man offered Orson a low bow. Orson copied the motion, though for only a moment. The entity, Ramses, lowered its head, in almost a nod.

“I’m sorry for Ramses,” the man said. “He’s very protective of all of us.”

“That’s fine. My crew and I are here to bring you to safety. The Liberty Corps…”

“Baron Helmont’s forces have our laboratory.” The man walked to Orson. Ramses followed him. “They’re killing everyone, everyone but the team leaders they need to steal the records. The aides are dead. Helmont’s knights personally executed the surviving Air Force guard who have kept the lab safe for these past five years. Only those of us who were with the Antler Clan, or could find their way to them, are still alive.” He gestured to Ramses. “They’ve been guiding us away.”

“If you tell me what you know,” Orson said. “My crew and I can work to save any survivors.”

“I’m afraid the others are lost.” The man closed his eyes. He released a slow, ragged breath from his nose. “You must leave, Captain. The knights are killing us because it’s expedient, but the only death they care about is yours.”