Twenty two, 24 March
The autotrain
Dronikus, a novel set on a burning planet called Earth.
Military dronikus
Gino drove with care along the narrow dirt roads on the moonless night, his headlights off. He knew the area well enough to navigate, passing old plantations on each side, fording the rivers and safely negotiating the bends as they crossed the valley. But it was slow going. The journey seemed interminable to Zola as he sat staring into the blackness, his body bumping, jolting, and lurching with the car’s movements. Chesa slept, leaning on his shoulder; Chun sat upfront next to Gino.
Nearing a town as the sun began to rise, Gino stopped off the road. ‘You’ll walk the last few kilometres,’ he said, explaining to Chun how to find the station. He gave them each an Eyeto and hugged them farewell.
Arriving at the station, they saw that even at this early hour it was thronging with people, unlike the one at which they had arrived in the creaky old train. Rators patrolled and groups of families and friends sat along the platforms, their ponchos pulled over themselves, forming a line of little tents along the station walls.
Chun had gone off on heris own. Zola and Chesa went through a rator checkpoint, their identities invisible behind their Lumpyfaces. They found a spot and huddled down, creating their own personal tent under their ponchos. They sat close together, not speaking, but taking strength from each other. The late-night flight had shocked them, forced them to confront the precariousness of their situation.
Zola whispered into the silence. ‘Who do you think…?’
‘Shhh,’ Chesa said, ‘best not to talk about it.’
They returned to their own thoughts, the hubbub of the station filling their ears.
Again, Zola whispered, ‘how is heesh doing?’
‘Mmm…’ she paused a while, ‘tense is probably the word. Pretty tense.’
‘About… I mean…?’
‘Heesh is trying hard to be open-hearted and magnanimous.’
‘Do you think…?’
She cut him off, ‘please, let’s not say anymore.’
The light filtered through their ponchos casting a soft rainbow of colours onto their faces.
‘Have you been to Visiwa?’ Zola asked.
‘No, I haven’t. I’ve worked with Imara, the person you saw at the meeting. I’m looking forward to going there.’
‘It’s going to be interesting, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, who knows what we’ll find there?’
Just then the poncho was pulled back. ‘Come’ said Chun, ‘the train will be arriving any moment now.’
The AutoTrain came speeding into the station in a cloud of rushing air and the booming sound of high-intensity engines and squealing brakes. The AutoTrain was a product of the latest technological advances – a driverless, solar-powered hover-suspension machine. It had four long coaches constructed of carbon-fibre polymer frames around which was bound a thick weather-proof flexible fibre material, which constituted the roof and the walls; this, in turn, was clad with silver powercell material that generated energy to power the AutoTrain. The walls were inlaid with Glastic sheeting for windows and doors. It had two levels of tightly spaced seating, the floors carpeted with a strong fibrous fabric and an internal staircase similar to double-decker commuter trains. It felt both solid and flimsy.
On entering the train and beeping their Eyetos they were caught in the crush to claim seats. Chesa spied two seats on the upper level and rushed to grab them. Zola indicated to Chun to take the place next to her but heesh shook heris head and moved down to the lower level.
Almost without warning the AutoTrain was on the move and rapidly it hit high speed, heading, as was announced on the illuminated signs, to the West Coast and Islands Terminal, which they would reach in 4 hours and 32 minutes.
Zola and Chesa did their best to make themselves comfortable on the ergonomically designed seats that proved to be very hard and unforgiving for people wishing to sleep on their neighbour’s shoulder. After a few minutes Chesa did manage to find sleep, her head slumped onto her own shoulder, clasping Zola’s hand between hers.
Zola tried his best to doze in the cool of the air-conditioning, but his eyes had no sooner closed than they flicked open. He was too aware of all those about him on their Eyetos, too conscious of even the most minor glance anyone made in his direction and was continually on the lookout for any tell-tale signs of dronikus on the walls and ceiling of the train. ‘Paranoia is but heightened awareness’: he repeated an old adage to himself but the humour made no difference. He was too wired to relax.
They were steadily approaching the coast, Visiwa Island and, he was sure, Leilu. He had no idea of what to expect; was she just like the Leilu that he always knew? It was hard to imagine given what she had been through. Was she a permanent invalid in a hospital bed? Or living as a recluse, her formerly graceful body transformed into a mess of scars? Was her brilliant mind still intact or was she kept semi-alive in a coma? He would find answers to his questions and speculations soon, he told himself.
He looked up and saw that it was not much longer to the train terminal and ferry station for the West Islands. The sign read: ‘Arrival in 3 hours and 3 minutes’.
Zola went down to the toilet and spotted Chun sleeping well-hidden beneath heris hoodie and dark glasses. As he made his way back up the stairs, he saw people pointing excitedly out the windows. He caught a glimpse of something flying above the AutoTrain. His body tensed with fear as he saw the dronikus.
He dashed back to his seat and moved his body to shield Chesa while shaking her awake. ‘Chesa! Chesa!’
A loud ripping sound made him look up. He saw the roof of the train being torn open and the metal frames being ripped away above him. He moved to further shield Chesa, but the air pouring in pushed him back. He saw the military dronikus come through the tattered material and felt its claw-like grapples take hold of his shoulders and lift him up. He saw, next to it, a smaller-armed dronikus moving down past him towards Chesa, suddenly awake in panic. As he was pulled up into the air he stretched his head round to see Chesa focus and react to the dronikus, her instinctively raising her arms, and her startled, terrified realisation as the darts entered her, one at the throat and the other penetrating her temple. As the dronikus lifted Zola into the air he screamed her name, over and over, every part of his body in extreme and intense agony, before all his muscles went slack and his body slumped, hanging from the dronikus’s talons like a limp sack of bones being borne across the desert sky. The AutoTrain sped on at high speed along the tracks below, with Chun asleep on the lower deck and Arturo lying unseen under the seat.
Dronikus is a novel published in 2023, now being serialised here on Substack. You can read a chapter every week for free.
Liking what you’re reading? Don’t want to wait to see what happens next? You can read the full book now by purchasing a digital or print copy of Dronikus from:
AndAlso Books (print edition)
Amazon (epub), Smashwords (epub), Apple Books (epub), Barnes&Noble (epub)
Note from Marko Newman: Hi Dronikus readers. I hope that you are liking what you are reading. There is still a fair way to go in the story with many twists and turns to come.
For those who are joining the story I highly recommend you take the time to peruse earlier chapters to give you a bit of a lead-in to the story.
I suggest:
Chapters 1 to 3, 7, 9 and 12:
I have a favour to ask all readers: please forward the story (any episode) to anyone who you think may like this short weekly hit of fiction reading. Suggest that if they like it they could subscribe to the weekly post. Emphasise that it is free and that one can unsubscribe with one click.
Also, I’m keen to hear any comments or questions or thoughts you may have. My email is: markonewman@icloud.com
Cheers, Marko