Dark Sanity

Science in Defiance

Flint exited the dingy saloon with Anissa and approached the cliff, pulling out his charcoal chip from his vest. He clicked it several times, inputting a code, and the precipice resonated with the rumbling of an engine activating. A cloud of smog billowed from the crag, and a mountainous steamship ascended. Anissa stared at the vessel in disbelief.

The craft’s ramp lowered, and Flint climbed aboard. He noticed Anissa looked wary, so he extended his palm. She took his hand, boarding the vessel. Inside looked a bit old, though it still glittered and pulsed with life. Anissa observed the interior of the steamship in awe as she followed Flint through a corridor. The clacking clockwork, rumbling of the soal-fueled engine, and humming of the automatic Core filled their ears. It was a natural sound to Flint, contrary to Anissa who felt it was bizarre; however, the reverberations of the vessel became trivial when she approached the pilot chamber. That instant, Clarienus jumped out while hissing.

Anissa shrieked, falling onto the floor.

“No,” said Flint sternly. “She’s a friend, Clarienus.” He helped Anissa up, who clung to the wall, frightened. “Be a good girl.”

“Is that an alien?”

“Aliens don’t exist in this dimension, remember?” said Flint, amused. “It’s quite a long story, but she’s a mutant human from Earth.”

Anissa began, “That’s no hum—”

“You’re late,” said Gunthrel, entering the corridor. He clomped through the walkway in his power suit and glared at Anissa. “Who’s this?”

“She’s a friend,” said Flint. “Anissa, this is Gunthrel.”

“H-hi,” said Anissa, startled by his size.

“Any friend of Flint is a friend of mine,” said Gunthrel, bowing. “Clarienus, be nice to her. It seems she’ll be with us for…?”

“For a while,” replied Flint, guiding Anissa to the brass-tinted pilot chamber. “There’s a resistance after all, and she’s going to show us where they are.” Upon entering the pilot room, he added, “All right, Dale, take us out.”

Dale smiled in his tattered overalls, still missing most of his teeth, and flew the steamship out of Maveron.

“Where to, Ethan?” he asked.

“Rutica,” answered Anissa.

“Well, well, ya got yerself a fine lady,” said Dale, glancing at her. “Tha name’s Peter Pan, but ya can call me Dale if ya’d like.”

“Nice to meet you, Dale,” she said. “I am Anissa.”

Anissa wondered if she was better off staying in the brothel. She was in a strange vessel with advanced technology that she’d never seen or heard of before, a mutant and giant were on board, and the pilot seemed to be insane. Flint was the only person she trusted, and yet even he tested her trust because he was oddly dressed in nineteenth-century clothing. She nevertheless decided to have a little faith in him.

“Hamarah is alive,” said Flint with elation, looking at Gunthrel. “She’s been in hiding since the war ended.”

“It’s astounding she’s managed to hide from the tribunal this long,” replied Gunthrel. He patted Flint on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Flint.” He clumped over to a control panel and took a seat. “We’re running low on soal. I’ll contact the mothership for replenishment.”

“Sounds good,” said Flint. “Dale, do you see Rutica on the map?”

“Yup,” he said. “It’s sumwhere in Vorilian—oh, I just got a fix. Yer not gonna like it, Ethan. It’s at tha heart of tha military.”

“If we come across any vessels, we’ll greet them with love,” said Flint, taking a seat. He heard Dale guffaw, which reminded him of Joey’s laugh. Then he wondered to himself, where is that scoundrel? One of the bounty hunters had mentioned his name. This meant that Joey must be in charge of the hunt. But that was just fine because Flint loved hunting too and was ready to kill Joey for his betrayal. “I’ll man the weapons should anything happen,” he added, taking control of the armaments’ interface. “Set the course, Dale.”

Anissa, meanwhile, warily sat next to Flint. She tried to ignore Clarienus who mindlessly hopped around the pilot chamber, howling.

“I agree, Clarienus,” said Flint, “this is going to be another adventure.”

The steamship flew through the fallow sky, leaving Maveron’s atmosphere. Not only was the vessel flying fast, but it had a haze of smog enveloping it in space. The spacecraft resembled a comet while traversing through the cosmos. In due time, the crew reached a star cluster where Rutica was located.

After three long hours, Anissa started feeling safer. She occasionally watched Flint handle the vessel’s controls but mostly gazed at space through the tinted window that had polarized technology, allowing her to stare directly at nearby stars without being harmed by their luminous, blinding light. She eventually turned her attention back to Flint. This time she fixed her eyes on him with an expression of curiosity.

“So,” she began, “how come you came to the saloon on Maveron?”

“Don’t you know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking,” sulked Anissa. She snorted when Flint laughed at her response and went on, “I thought you were looking for me. But you lost your memory. So, I really don’t know why you traveled there.”

“I’ve been visiting a lot of places within the past few months,” he said. “I always make sure they’re somewhere around the outskirts of Vorilian IV to avoid a direct confrontation with the military. As for your saloon, I went there hoping to find out from the locals which planet the tribunal are located on.”

She gave out a cold laugh. “That kind of information is probably classified. I sure as hell don’t know. And by the way, don’t you think hanging around a saloon while dressed like that is risky?”

“Well,” he began, “I didn’t think a bunch of bounty hunters would be there. But these days the tribunal wants me dead, so I’m likely to find trouble anywhere I go.”

“Why are you so hell-bent on this revolution?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “It does matter! It matters when the military is ready to kill you over a stupid theory!”

“It’s no theory,” he said. “Before the war, as Commander-in-Chief, I was an overseer in the science division. I’ve seen dimensional technology firsthand. The ability to fuse with those from another dimension is very real, and it is a serious threat to our individuality. Whatever you’ve heard about concerning a superior race is bullshit. More so, synthesis may cause our universe to collapse. I won’t let the tribunal do this to humanity.”

“Humanity?” she scowled. “You talk as if you’re no longer human.”

Acknowledging his abnormal strength and thinking of all the people he’d killed and must kill to prevent dimensional synthesis, he responded, “Maybe I’m not.”

“Huh?”

“Forget it,” he said, sighing. “You live your life, and I live mine. I don’t judge you for the person you are. So, why should I be judged?”

“Right on, lad,” said Dale.

“Whatever,” she said, sulking. “I don’t care anymore. I just want to stay alive. And if I need to suck a man’s cock to live longer, so be it. It’s better than dying for a lost cause.”

“Lost cause?” said Flint. “Things are very different now.”

“Oh?” she said curtly. “Very different? The only difference is you’re practically alone in this weird revolution of yours. More than half of your original resistance are slaves. And the few who’re still alive are hiding.”

“They’re doing the smart thing,” said Flint. “They’re probably just waiting for the right moment to strike. And, by the way, I am far from being alone.”

“Indeed,” said Gunthrel.

“Sorry,” said Anissa. “Okay, you’re not alone. You have Peter Pan to fly you around, Tin Man from Oz over here to hold your hand when the military attacks, and some kind of human-mutant pet that doesn’t even know what’s happening.”

Clarienus howled in a lamenting tone.

“You should apologize to her,” said Flint. “You hurt her feelings.”

He chuckled when she sighed with frustration. She rose from her seat and went over to a corner window.

“Listen,” went on Flint, “I never asked you to join my cause. In fact, you’re the one who got involved and decided to come aboard my vessel. I’ll bring you back to Maveron as soon as you show me where the resistance is hiding.”

Anissa didn’t respond. She just crossed her arms and remained standing for a while by the corner. She felt what Flint had said was fair enough but made no sign of appreciation. The only thing she could do at this point was be patient and wait until the steamship would arrive at Rutica. She occasionally paced; though, looking at the others made her feel nauseous, so she eventually stayed still and simply continued to stare at space, trying to ignore the fact that she was in an insane asylum.

By the next hour, she finally spotted an orange-green planet in the far distance. “That’s it,” she said, feeling relieved.

“Now that’s a beautiful sight,” said Flint. “Dale, take her in nice and easy. We don’t want to alert anyone.”

“Too late,” said Gunthrel.

Flint, disturbed by what his comrade had just said, stared at the sensors. “I don’t see anything. What’re you talking about?”

“Not space,” replied Gunthrel. “I’ve spotted something leaving Halvon—it’s the planet neighboring Rutica. It’s flying real fast and I calculated its trajectory, which is heading directly toward us.”

“Shit!” cursed Flint. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“That’s why you have me on board,” said Gunthrel. “It’s just one, at least for now. It’ll be in range within a minute.”

“This can’t be happening,” groaned Anissa.

Dale shrugged at her response. “Wha’d ya expect? This is tha heart of military space.” He glanced over to Flint and asked, “What ya want me ta do, Ethan?”

“Change your course,” said Flint.

“Right,” said Dale, decelerating and turning the steamship.

“Are you fucking insane?” snapped Anissa. “The only way to stay alive is to outrun the military and hide! Why are you slowing down?”

“I don’t want them being suspicious of us traveling to Rutica,” said Flint. “If they see us escaping to the planet they might think something important is there. I won’t let the resistance down again.”

“They probably already know!” she yelled.

“They’re in range,” said Gunthrel.

“I can see,” said Flint, staring at the cruiser.

When the vessel reached the steamship, it halted. A red light activated from the military spacecraft, scanning the mountainous smog-covered ship in front of it. Then one of the ensigns in the cruiser approached the commanding officer on the main deck.

“Captain,” called out the ensign worriedly. “Our sensors are showing nothing. They seem to have some kind of shield prohibiting us from seeing their technology.”

The captain rose, staring at the unknown vessel with a distraught expression. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he said, gulping. “It’s like a floating city enveloped in a nebula.” He stood silent for a moment and then commanded, “Return to your post, Ensign.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the ensign, going back to his seat below the command deck.

“Have the resistance been this busy?” pondered the captain. He opened a voice channel on his console. “This is Captain Armstrong of the military starship Hewlett speaking. Who are you, and what is your destination?”

A visual screen activated, showing Clarienus growling and hissing ferociously. Many of the crew gasped and winced when they saw her.

“What in God’s name is that?” said the ensign, horrified.

Captain Armstrong flinched when he heard the unforgivable three-lettered word that had been banned decades ago and pulled out a dimensional pistol, zapping the ensign into dust.

“No one speaks that name,” said the captain. He turned off the visual screen and glared at the vessel. “There’re no such things as demons or aliens. It must be a trick. Lieutenant Coleman, use the ST-8 and bring the ship in,” he added, looking behind him. “We’re going to board it and find out what this is about.”

Lieutenant Coleman complied, launching a green spherical beam that hit the steamship. The ray ignited and exploded into a shield-like field, spreading all over the mountainous vessel until its power died out.

“Goodness gracious,” said Dale, slack-jawed. “It looks like they’ve stunned us. We’re sittin’ ducks even if ya told me ta git outta here.”

“Everything’s been deactivated,” said Gunthrel with aggravation. “Even the weapons.”

Flint attempted to click his interface but nothing worked. Then the vessel trembled and motioned toward the military ship.

“They’re using a tractor beam?” said Gunthrel. “Why aren’t they attacking?”

“Ah,” said Flint. “They don’t know I’m here. They just see a new toy. And, like children, they want to play with it.” He smirked and continued, “Activate the emergency generator. We’re low on soal anyway. We might as well go out in a big bang.”

Gunthrel agreed and turned on the emergency generator, reactivating the Core. Just then, the steamship trembled violently—it connected to the military vessel. Dale tried to fly away, but there was nothing he could do since the tractor beam was still in effect.

“They’re boarding the ship!” exclaimed Gunthrel.

“I don’t believe this,” said Anissa. “I was better off getting fucked by men with AIDS than coming here.”

“It’s time to show them some love,” said Flint, ignoring Anissa.

Gunthrel concurred, opening a compartment in his armor and removing a dimensional cannon. He then dashed with Flint to a corner in a cog-covered corridor where the cruiser clamped on to their vessel via its hatch. Upon taking position, Gunthrel inputted a code in his suit: Gamma. Within seconds, the military blasted open a wall inside the clanking corridor and entered. They wore burgundy uniforms and carried plasma guns.

Before they could even examine the interior of the foreign vessel, Flint peeked out of his corner and shot down nine men using his magnums.

“Take cover!” shouted one of the soldiers, “it’s Flint Cross!”

Gunthrel also peered out from his corner, blasting them with his dimensional cannon. The violet beams caused them to disintegrate.

“They’ve got dimensional technology!” shouted another soldier.

“Don’t switch to their weaponry yet,” said Lieutenant Coleman. “The captain wants us to capture the ship and that specimen for study!”

“Gamma, we need you now!” exclaimed Gunthrel, continuing to fire and take cover.

In less than a minute, a door unsealed on the opposite side of the corridor. A squadron of steamwalkers emerged, blasting the military soldiers with dimensional cannons. The men who were still alive retreated to the hatchway.

“There are fucking aliens on board!” cried out a soldier.

“What?” said Lieutenant Coleman furiously.

He was ready to assassinate his own man for being superstitious when Gamma squadron came through the hole he’d created to infiltrate the foreign vessel. The twelve-foot tall armored beings stomped into the military cruiser’s hatchway, shooting the soldiers. They then gave out a loud metallic sound that was deafening to the remaining men. Flint had already gotten used to it in the underground city of Soalace, so the high-pitched reverberations were music to his ears as he charged with his magnums, blowing holes into the chests of dismayed soldiers.

“Fall back!” commanded Coleman. He exited the light-pulsing hatchway and ran back to his vessel, activating a voice channel. “Captain! Flint Cross is on board this ship, and he has an army of…I don’t know what they are, but they have dimen—”

“I’ve already called for backup,” interjected Captain Armstrong. “Hold out as long as you can without dimensional weapons. I don’t want that ship to accidently be destroyed. It may have vital technology that we can use against the rebels.”

Coleman complied, taking cover and firing cautiously.

Flint also took cover, reloaded his magnums, and then sprang out as he shot and shouted, “Surrender at once and stray away from the oppression of the tribunal or face the wrath of Flint Cross!”

“You’re a madman, Ethan!” yelled out Coleman, hiding. “It’s too bad I have to put you down the old-fashioned way! If I were the captain, you’d be space dust right now!”

“Then what’re you waiting for?” roared Flint, blowing away another group of men.

Coleman grimaced while he peered out of his corner, firing his plasma gun at one of the steamwalkers. The beams, however, simply dissipated upon impact.

“These things are completely impenetrable!” said Coleman, frustrated.

“We need to use dimensional weapons!” said one of the soldiers.

“Negative, soldier,” said Coleman. “Ignore the armored men—target Flint Cross! I want that man dead!”

Just then, Clarienus scuttled through the hatchway, ripping soldiers apart with her sharp claws. Upon reaching the military ship, she climbed onto the ceiling and pounced on Coleman, biting his neck. A few soldiers who saw Clarienus ran for their lives. When the remaining unit realized that Lieutenant Coleman was dead, they activated their advanced dimensional weapons and opened fire. Although they were too slow to catch Clarienus, they were able to blast several steamwalkers, disintegrating them.

“Idiots!” yelled a soldier using a plasma gun amid his brigade. “Why are you disobeying the captain?” His regiment ignored him, frantically shooting. “Do not miss! If you damage our ship, or that foreign vessel, the captain will have us court-marshaled!”

Reloading his magnums, Flint stepped away from his corner. He sprinted forward with a heinous glare, firing at the remaining military men. Countless beams passed him. Some of the steamwalkers beside him disintegrated. The deafening metallic sound rang again. Flint pressed on, aiming and pulling the triggers of his magnums. Smoke blew from the muzzles of his guns, soal bullets piercing his targets. They were either blown in half by the power of the magnums or poisoned by the soal, which killed them in seconds as they bled on the grating.

“Bad news,” said Dale, speaking to Flint on a private communications channel. “A fleet of twen’ney-four ships appeared on tha sensors.”

Flint grew pale. “Time to get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Why?” inquired Gunthrel.

“They have reinforcements,” answered Flint. “If they can’t take our ship by force, then I’m sure they’ll destroy it.”

Flint, Gunthrel, and the remaining steamwalkers of Gamma squadron started to withdraw back to their vessel. Clarienus was the only one who lingered, killing the rest of the soldiers who dared not run. Once she finally killed them, she scuttled away and returned to the steamship. As soon as she entered, Gunthrel attempted to reseal the blasted wall. Flint, meanwhile, returned to the cockpit.

“It ain’t looking good, Ethan,” said Dale.

“I don’t understand how we’re still alive,” said Anissa.

“After what we just did to them, so am I,” said Flint. “We’re gonna need to do something extraordinary to get out of this.”

“Like what?” asked Dale.

“I don’t know,” said Flint, staring at the twenty-four starships that were approaching on his sensors. “They’re going to shoot us down any second.”

“We’re nearly out of soal,” said Gunthrel, entering the chamber.

Flint’s eyes widened. “That’s it!” he said excitedly. He clicked the vessel’s control panel, expanding the interface. “Gunthrel, do you remember what I did in the city of Soalace before we escaped?”

Gunthrel shook his head.

“All right, no time to explain,” he said, continuing to click buttons. “Dale, fly us into the heart of that fleet.”

“Say what?”

“Trust me,” said Flint.

“Are you insane?” cried out Anissa.

“People keep asking me that,” sulked Flint. “This is the only chance we’ve got at getting out of this alive.”

Dale listened and attempted to fly the steamship away. Fortunately, the tractor beam was no longer active. He turned the vessel and flew it straight toward the military fleet. As he did so, the captain of the Hewlett screamed.

“Why isn’t the tractor beam active?” he asked.

“I thought we didn’t need it anymore when Coleman infiltrated the ship,” replied one of the ensigns. When he saw the furious look on his captain’s face, he immediately reactivated the tractor beam. “The ship’s too fast—we’re out of range!”

The captain pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to stay calm. “They won’t be able to escape,” he said. “Our reinforcements have arrived.”

In the meantime, Dale continued flying toward the military fleet, sweat dripping down his face. Anissa wept while Clarienus let out a monstrous dirge. Gunthrel shook his head, not sure if he should remain passive. Flint was the only one who grinned; it was a maniacal grin. He leaned forward at the windowpane, glaring at the twenty-four starships lined up in a blockade.

“Just a little closer,” muttered Flint, his grin expanding. “Almost there.”

He blocked out Anissa’s wailing and Clarienus’ sing-song dirge from his mind. Several military cruisers opened fire, releasing dimensional beams. Dale attempted to evade them, but some rays blasted the force field, deactivating it. The steamship shook violently.

“Flint!” shouted Gunthrel, losing faith in him.

“You’re all dead!” roared Flint, cackling as though he’d lost his mind.

In the blink of an eye, Flint expanded his web of controls and inputted a code, making the ship’s Core absorb all the dimensional energy from the fleet of starships just as he’d absorbed the kingdom of Soalace’s energy before. The energy was redirected into the dependent Core, causing every cruiser, with the exception of the distant Hewlett, to shutdown. Not one second later, the dimensional energy pulsed outward, disintegrating the entire fleet.

“Impossible,” said the captain of the Hewlett, staring at the glittery particles of the fleet in disbelief. “He has dimensional technology built into that vessel. Retreat!”

Flint noticed the Hewlett beginning to turn and fly away. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “I have yet to absolve you of your sins.” He aimed the dimensional cannons of his steamship at the retreating vessel and used the remaining energy in the Core to launch one final beam. The thick violet-colored ray shot out, blasting through the Hewlett, leaving only soldiers’ ashes.

“Fairy dust,” said Dale.

“Space dust,” said Flint, correcting him.

The crew cheered and applauded Flint who couldn’t help but keep his grin. Anissa shed tears of joy while Clarienus howled with great delight, barely understanding what had happened. Dale guffawed and clapped, amazed. Gunthrel and his fellow steamwalkers raised their guns in victory. The celebration, however, was short lived. Just a few seconds after they had begun to cheer with relief, an alarm went off.

“Oh my goodness, what’s happening now?” asked Anissa, fed up.

“Soal,” said Gunthrel.

“Right,” said Flint, sighing. “We’re on the verge of running out of soal. It’s used to fuel our steamship. Damn it, I knew we should’ve replaced the Core with another power source. It worked well in the undertunnels, but it just isn’t the same in space.”

“We have less than five minutes,” said Gunthrel.

The alarm continued to ring, causing the lights in the cockpit to flash red. Dale flew fast toward Rutica. Little by little, the smog enveloping the vessel thinned out. Hardly any exhaust fumes emitted from the titanium cylinders atop the steamship, at which point the vessel rumbled fiercely. The orange-green planet gradually appeared bigger to the crew.

“Oh my God,” scowled Anissa.

“You’re still a believer?” asked Flint, grinning at Anissa who rolled her eyes.

“Um…now’d be a dandy time ta give me tha coordinates,” said Dale.

Not wasting any time, Anissa gave them to him.

“Alrighty,” he said, gleaming. “We’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“I sure hope so,” said Gunthrel. “We have two minutes left.”

The crew remained seated, bracing themselves as the steamship entered Rutica’s amber-tinged sky. Hardly any clouds were visible to the crew. At first that didn’t matter to them, but when the steamship’s smog dissipated, Dale lost control. The crew screamed, gazing at the tiny-looking land while they fell thousands upon thousands of feet in the air. They had wished to see clouds because at least they wouldn’t have realized that they were descending toward land. The terrain expanded quickly as they fell.

“Do something!” yelled Anissa, crying hysterically.

Flint desperately tried to think of a way out of this. Yet he had no ideas. The pressure of the descent made him as mindless as Clarienus. He was terrified, like the others. He’d hoped to pull off another fancy tactic; though, there was nothing left to do since the vessel’s soal had run out. And the dimensional power that was once within the hybrid Core had been drained during the attack. Flint didn’t scream or close his eyes despite his fear. Deep down inside, he refused to accept death. Even if he’d die right now, it was a big bang, as he’d hoped. However, he rejected the thought of this being the end of his revolt. He ignored his rational mind and preferred to be irrational, staring at the approaching landscape. That instant, he spotted a greenish circle that turned out to be an ocean of some kind.

“Water!” exclaimed Flint.

He cheered and jumped for joy. Then he staggered and flew against the wall as the vessel dove into the lake that had resembled an ocean from afar. The seats broke off from the floor, and the crew fell against the grating. The vessel sank deep into the lake. Only the roof and a few of its cylinders protruded from the green-blue water. Although the water cushioned the crash, the steamship nevertheless sank fast, its base smashing hard against the lake’s surface.

Flint gave out a feeble groan. He was barely conscious; he couldn’t even move. Opening his eyes, he noticed his crew on the floor. Though they appeared to be unconscious, he wasn’t sure if they were. Then he glanced at the cracked window, noticing they had in fact sunk into the lake. Water gradually filtered through some of the smaller cylinders that were submerged. Flint knew what was happening, yet he couldn’t move. He felt weaker, and his head throbbed. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes and passed out.