Sean McMullen - The Miocene Arrow

430 Pages·2016·0.84 MB·English

by  McMullen Sean

THE MIOCENE ARROW
by
Sean MCMULLEN
All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either
fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE MIOCENE ARROW
Copyright 2000 by Sean McMullen All rights reserved, including the
right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. This
book is printed on acid-free paper.
Edited by Jack Dann
A Tor Book Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com Tor is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates,
LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
McMullen, Sean. The Miocene arrow / Sean McMullen.--1st ed.
p. em. "A Tom Doherty Associates book." ISBN 0-312-87054-X (alk.
paper) 1. Imaginary wars and battles--Fiction. I. Title.
PR9619.3.M3268 M56 2000
823'.914--dc21
First Edition: August 2000 Printed in the United States of America
tor books BY sean mcmullen
The Centurion's Empire Souls in the Great Machine The Miocene Arrow
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THE
MIOCENE
ARROW
PROLOGUE
1 August 3956: North Dorak tach time that any wing ascended in
Mounthaven it was a minor pageant. The tiny aircraft, all with a span
of less than thirty feet, formed the basis of the aristocracy and
government in mid-fortieth-century America, and were the visible symbol
of each air lord rule. Lamps gleamed on the dark surface of Canyon
Lake as the Missouri Wellspring was readied for a night ascent. It was
a float wing regal with two compression engines, capable of carrying as
many as four passengers for two hundred miles. The wing was from the
North Dorak governor's personal flock, and members of the diplomatic
staff of Northmost lined the jetties in parade uniform. The
wingcaptain accepted his commission for the flight from the Governor
while his passengers looked on. His flight jacket's gilt work and gems
gleamed and glinted in the lamplight, highlighting him amid the other
nobles on the jetty. "Your first flight over oblivion?" murmured the
Governor. "Every flight is over oblivion, Sair Governor," replied the
young warden, who was eager to begin his first flight as a wingcaptain.
"Remember, when you fly over Callscour lands you fly over certain
death. Take no chances." The wingcaptain and his passengers climbed
aboard as a steam engine cart was wheeled up to spin the regal's
compression engines. They coughed, caught, and began to idle. The
tasseled mooring ropes were cast off, and the float wing drew away from
the jetty to the sound of a brass band and orderly cheers from the
onlookers. The adjunct fired a green flare. As it arced through the
darkness the wingcaptain revved the compression engines up to full
power and the float wing began plowing through the glassy water,
flinging spray behind it. Even under such ideal conditions this was a
difficult ascent, and after a run of over two miles the regal was still
on the water. The wingcaptain finally pushed the throttle forward to
over boost The float wing lifted, bounced, bounced again, then clawed
its way into the air. Now free of the water's drag, it began to gather
speed. "He should have idled his engines for a while longer," the
adjunct said to the Governor. "Overboost can cause damage that will
not be obvious until he is flying over death."
"Perhaps you could have delayed the flare a little longer?" the
Governor ventured.
"No, no, he would have taken that as an insult, and so he should. He
has had a fright. Let us hope that he survives it and remembers the
lesson."
The distant float wing turned northwest, with Mirrorsun's light
glinting off its wings; then it merged with the night sky and was
gone.
Thirty thousand feet above the lake a huge, matte-black wing was
banking, its navigator taking a beating from the lights of Northmost.
It an was over half a mile from tip to tip, yet its engines were all
but silent and
10rki its passage was marked only by the momentary eclipse of an
occasional star.
itm
on
on 1 August 3956: North Bartolica
There had been no completely dark nights since Mirrorsun had formed
twenty years earlier, in 3936. Its coppery glow always hung in the
night
IC17
sky, at the center of a band of darkness from which the stars had been
lung sponged away. When the sun rose, Mirrorsun set, and when the sun
set
Jltra
Mirrorsun enacted its own little dawn. To the people of what had once
been North America, Mirrorsun was yet another mystery that had been
)wn added to plague their lives. The Call tried to lure them to
oblivion every
few days, the Sentinels spat hellfire at any vehicle larger than
twenty-nine elpl and a half feet, and they lived surrounded by land
where the deadly Call the practically never ceased. These were facts
of life, and they had been accepted for two thousand years. At least
Mirrorsun was harmless.
n a
Mounthaven was an area in the Rocky Mountains, five hundred miles
Nith across and eight hundred miles from north to south. It was the
biggest of lull the three Callhavens in North America, those three
areas where the Call came every few days instead of almost continually.
In many ways its society and technology were the most advanced on the
planet.." but not in
Iew all ways.
ael
High above the mountains the Dorakian float wing crossed North Bar
lies, tolica briefly on its short but dangerous flight from Northmost
to Kallision all ia
Lake in Alberhaven. Eighty miles of its ninety-mile flight would be
over
Callscour wilderness, where a forced landing meant certain death, yet
float airl0 wing flights were the only contact between the three
million people of toge
Alberhaven and Mounthaven's fifteen million.
the
There was teeming life in the Callscour wilderness, but none of the
save creatures that lived there weighed more than twenty pounds.
Anything larger would be lured west, mindlessly wandering away until it
died of an accident, or reached wherever the Call led. On the
frontiers of the Call havens, however, the rich but diminutive
Callscour wildlife spilled over and could be hunted and trapped by
humans in something like safety.
"11
Three Bartolican trappers sat in their hide listening to the float wing
pass overhead, its compression engines laboring to gain height.
"Brave fellas, them wardens," said Zekin, looking in the direction of
the sound and stroking the barrel of his carbine.
"That's why we're trappers and they're nobles," responded Jebaz, who
was listening for trap bells.
"We's brave too, but wardens is brave and crazy," Lemas added, then
took a pull from his flask of corn whisky.
"Talk like that's liable to get you flogged for mouthin'," said Jebaz,
who was something of a royalist.
"Gah, the Regional Inspector never comes as far as the trap runs.
Besides, there's nothin' wrong with being' a little crazy. Take Zekin,
like. He's brave as the air lord Inner Guard, but he's got crazy
ideas."
The drone of the float wing compression engines lingered in the
distance.
"Have you ever wondered if there's more than wardens and flyers up
there?" Zekin said as he looked straight up at the stars. The other
two chuckled. "I don't mean all that angel and dragon shit, I mean
folk from distant Callhavens with engines for drivin' wings as like we
never thought of."
"Folk been talkin' about other Callhavens for thousands of years,
Zekin," Lemas scoffed.
"Yeah, and when we got real good compression engines our wardens
discovered Mexhaven and Alberhaven," said Zekin.
"And nothin' else in hundreds of years!" cried Lemas.
"Keep your damn shit voice down," hissed Jebaz, "or we'll be trappin'
nothin' but demi coons who like to hear philosophy."
For some minutes there was nothing but the diminishing sound of the
float wing in the distance.
"I seen 'em flyin'," said Zekin, who had been brooding on the subject.
"Big as a warden's gun wing but silent."
"Buzzards," concluded Jebaz succinctly.
"Crazy," added Lemas.
"I seen what I seen. They's what made Mirrorsun twenty years ago.
Mirrormen, they are." He gestured to the sky so vehemently that the
hide swayed.
"What should I drink afore I can see 'em too?" laughed Lemas. Jebaz
laughed too, Zekin did not. A trap clacked somewhere in the distance
and all three men froze and strained for the direction of the jingling
bells and the squealing, thrashing animal.
"West six," Jebaz began, but the rest of his sentence died behind his
lips.
There was another sound, something unlike anything heard in those
mountains for two thousand years: the mosquito-whine of an electric
mo
SEAN Ne MULLEN
tor. It was away in the distance and from above. A blot of darkness
eclipsed stars, as it passed overhead; then the whining stopped.
seen it, something' big," breathed Zekin, "flyin' and all."
"Seen nothin'," chorused the other two, but what they had heard had
been enough to make them click back the safety catches of their
carbines.
"Got better eyes," said Zekin. "Got eyes to aim at the next one and
blast a hole in it so big you can plant your head in it and say "Well
how do in there Sair Mirrorsun Man." "
"Meantime we got a trap to clear," began Jebaz, desperate for nor orki
mality to return.
)itrfl;
Something crashed heavily into bushes in the distance. All three men
on looked around.
out,
"Coon," suggested Jebaz without conviction.
aga
"Mirrorman hit a tree tryin' to land," said Zekin excitedly.
They waited for Lemas' opinion, but he said nothing. In the silence
another whine became audible high above them.
dc[V
"It's another, it's another," babbled Zekin, thumbing the safety catch
lung on his own carbine. "It's gonna be meetin' with its friend what
landed hereabout."
Jltra
Zekin raised his gun and aimed into the star-studded night sky. The
)wfl whining grew louder, and seemed to move across from east to south.
Jebaz
and Lemas held their carbines ready, trembling with dread of the
unknown.
qelDI
"Say Zekin, we got no quarrel with no Mirrorman," began Lemas The
nervously.
"Buckle it!" snapped Zekin.
Lemas saw it first, an eclipse of stars, a hazy outline in
Mirrorsun'sith light. He gasped and pointed, and then Zekin opened
fire, blasting at the grill sky and working the slide action as fast as
he could. As the firing pin finally clacked on the empty chamber the
echoes of the shots died away cent among the mountains.
few
"The whinin's stopped, I'se hit it!" exclaimed Zekin, hurriedly re
back, loading.
dies,
"There, it's fallin' there!" shouted Lemas.
all ia
Something crashed into the trees to the east, and a large dark shape
seemed to collapse down into the branches. Jebaz fired five shots into
the airl0 forest where it had landed as Zekin reloaded.
t0ge
"Big as a fir tree," murmured Jebaz in wonder.
the
"Proof, this time I'se got proof!" said Zekin. "I'm a-takin' one to
town saw an' sure as hell showin' I'm not crazy."
"Big as a tree," echoed Lemas. "How we gonna carry that?"
"Don't care, but we're a-getting' it into town. Hey, for a fair show
like,
and we can get its flyer stuffed. Come on--hey, and bring your trail
packs and Call anchors, you never know how far we may have to chase
'em."
They climbed out of the hide and picked their way across the darkened
ground. They knew the area well, so that the weak light of Mirrorsun
was enough for them to move almost at a trot.
The shot that dropped Lemas boomed out like a thunderclap and echoed
out across the mountains. He fell without a sound, a large hole in his
forehead and the back of his head blown away. The other two trappers
dropped at once, their reflexes honed by a lifetime of trap run feuds
and skirmishes.
"Lemas!" Jebaz hissed.
"Dead," said Zekin, who had a better view of the body. "Half his head