All he had to do was keep the dock clear until it closed. The data in his head said the gates were time-limited. Caroline had been desperate for him to hurry his people through. The wonderful plate of color that had blocked all view of the other side of the river was gone. In its place was a wavering sheet through which he could see the shadows of broken boats and crumbling facades.

  Content he had a good chance of keeping the raiders from transferring to his family’s sanctuary, Michael settled down to wait. The portal’s watery light washed over and around him, silhouetting him like a target on a range. It was not an ideal position to make a stand from, but Michael was trusting the raiders would want to take him alive.

  He was hoping their desire to discover more about the gate and its technology would stop them from killing him safely at a distance. He was banking on their greed for conquest to keep him alive long enough for the gate to close behind him. At least this time, his separation from those he loved would be short-lived. The raiders did not know he could short-circuit his head.

  The first of them came from the end of the street, ducking behind street-side piles of ancient crates, too far for the sub-machine gun to guarantee a kill. Fast-moving shadows copied their master’s every move, darting across open spaces, crouching belly-low to take advantage of the islands of cover whenever they could. The dogs followed close by their masters.

  Michael smiled. The hunters were in for a surprise. Their dogs wouldn’t be able to get near him. His hand drifted to his belt, glided over the depressions that would activate a sonic wall. When the hounds were in range…

  He hesitated, positioned his fingers and pushed down. By the time the hounds were in range, he wouldn’t be able to spare a hand to turn it on, and this battle would be too short for the cells to run low.

  Around him, the gate’s light wavered and went out. Darkness enclosed him, and he lost sight of the street as his eyes adjusted to the dark. When he could once again make out the buildings and the dark alley-slashes, all interrupted by the black mounds of crates and other debris, the situation had changed.

  Scorpion soldiers moved across the wharf, a dozen had begun a cautious progression down the dock towards him.

  Michael pushed out of his crouch, and fired a burst at the ground in front of those leading the approach. They paused. He glanced over his shoulder, calculating the distance before he ran out of dock. It was a twenty-meter drop to the river-bed.

  He chose a bollard once used for tying up boats. It was close to the dock’s end, would provide some cover, and give him something to lean on. Picking his path, he turned his head to face the oncoming raiders and began a slow shuffle backwards.

  The Scorpions hadn’t wasted any time. While he’d been picking his path, they had advanced.

  Michael fired another burst, but this time they kept coming, He lifted his aim, and swept a line of bullets across their chests. Personal force fields sparked blue and white. The raiders in the front line looked down as the bullets struck. When they raised their heads, every single one of them was smiling.

  Where, by Horus, Ra and Sekhmet, had the Scorpions found personal fields?

  Taking his eyes off the closest raiders, Michael scanned the wharf and streets. He could see no vehicle, nothing to bring a field generator into range. He scanned the men before him, but it was too dark to pick out details that might reveal a power source.

  Cursing softly, he braced the sub-machine gun and flicked it to automatic fire. There was a limit to how much stress a personal field could take. If he didn’t allow a target’s field time to recover, the generator would overheat, and the field fail. Taking another cautious step back, he chose his first victim and fired.

  The Scorpions kept coming, even after the first man fell, and Michael shifted aim to a second. His heel found the bollard and he edged around it. The Scorpions kept coming. They didn’t return fire, but advanced in a solid wall, driving him back until he had nowhere to go. The twenty-meter drop started to look inviting.

  As he thought about it, Michael dropped his current target and moved on to the next one. Energy crackled as the enemy came within five meters, three… Michael wondered if the fall would kill him, tried to calculate the likelihood of landing on his head.

  Light pulsed at his back. A subsonic hum vibrated hard against his ears, rattling his skull. Another pulse of light came from behind him, this one bright enough to bring tears to his eyes. The Scorpions facing it screamed and raised their hands to block it. A burst of energy raised the hairs on Michael’s arms, brushing warm against the back of his neck.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  This time the light held steady, brighter than daylight, throwing Michael’s shadow along the dock. Something behind him roared, a whirlwind, wet with mist. Thunder bellowed between the river banks. The dock shook, its foundations trembling with strain. The smell of damp earth surrounded him, but not a drop of rain fell.

  Michael saw the shock on the faces in front of him, resisted the urge to turn and see what lay behind him, caught movement at the edge of his vision in the chasm at the dock’s edge, couldn’t resist the temptation to glance towards it. The chasm was gone, movement churned and swirled and the smell of water filled his nostrils. His enemy continued to stare past him.

  Michael slid a cautious step away from them, stopping when he felt his heel meet empty air. He wondered if he’d survive a drop into the river. Another glance to the side confirmed it was, indeed, a river.

  A decade-old memory reminded him the river was dangerous, so Michael reminded it that the raiders were also dangerous.

  As he contemplated taking his chances in the river, darkness slid out of the light behind him. It moved across him, drowning his own silhouette and covering the raiders. They stumbled back before it. Water surged over the stone and timbers at Michael’s feet, and he stepped sideways. The dock shuddered beneath him, and the sound of engines thumped through the river’s roar.

  The Scorpions nearest him froze. Their eyes widened in surprise and they stepped back.

  “Surrender!”

  Michael turned so he stood side-on to the enemy. He tilted his head, trying to keep one eye on his foes while he looked at whatever had just arrived. A ship, tall and new, rode the river. Men lined its decks, weapons to hand, and gun turrets were trained on the wharf.

  At the end of the dock, Scorpions moved, trying to flee into the shelter of the buildings lining the riverside. A pulse of energy swept over Michael’s head and the Scorpions’ fields flared blue. They dropped without a sound.

  “Surrender.”

  All movement stopped.

  Michael edged sideways toward the ship. If he stood little chance in the river, and no chance with the raiders, he figured it would be better if he took his chances with the men on the ship. A second pulse of energy swept over the docks, but this time no one fell. For one long heartbeat, nothing moved, and then the raiders dropped their weapons and raised their hands.

  The thump of engines intensified and the ship maneuvered alongside the docks. Beneath his feet, timber and stone shook. A moan of panic washed through the men still standing on it, but the gun turrets swiveled to cover them and no one moved. Michael kept half an eye on the Scorpions nearest him, shifting back toward the ship as he tried to take in the sight in the center of the river.

  It was another gate, wide open and blazing with more power than Caroline had been able to coax from the engine house across from the dock. It was taller and wider than the hotel, and water flooded through it. Riding the torrent were a number of ships, these ones smaller than the first.

  All were armed, and manned by soldiers.

  A loud thump drew his attention back to the first ship. It had dropped a solid steel walkway to the dock, a bridge too large to be called gang plank. The walkway formed a bridge, down which the first sailors hurried in preparation for securing the ship. Michael took a step toward it as the sailors caught the heavy ropes thrown them and tied the big boat in place.

  While the sailors were tying up, the soldiers marched off the deck and onto the dock. They marched past Michael and spread out along the dock, until the formed a physical barrier between the ship and the raiders.

  “Don’t move!” one of them snapped, when the Scorpion nearest him shifted nervously.

  Once the soldiers were in place, two figures appeared at the head of the ramp. Michael recognized the tall, muscular man as his future father-in-law, but it was the woman in a dusty white dress who commanded his attention.

  Caroline!

  He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only stand and stare. She was still all he wanted of however many worlds there were, but after resigning himself to losing her for good, he wasn’t sure he could accept she’d come back for him. He let go of the sub-machine gun, letting it dangle loosely at his side, the Scorpions at his back forgotten as she approached.

  “Michael?” Something in his face gave her pause, but still she held out her hand.

  Michael stood frozen for a minute. Part of his mind was still trying to monitor the threat at his back, screaming at him to take up his gun and be prepared to defend himself and his bride, but most of his mind was numb with shock. Only when she stood before him, her warmth touching his skin, did her scent reach into his head long enough to give him the ability to speak.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, reaching for her hand. “I told you…”

  “Since when did she ever do as she was told, boy?” Caroline’s father broke in.

  Michael shifted his gaze.

  “Dad?”

  “You and I need to talk, son, but not here. Come aboard.”

  The last was delivered with enough command for Michael to start moving again. Tucking Caroline against his side, he followed her father aboard. Behind them, the soldiers began disarming raiders.

  As they left the dock, Michael’s mind slowly broke free of the paralysis threatening to overwhelm it. By the time they were safely aboard and standing outside a cabin, only a faint sense of unreality remained.

  “Why don’t you go on ahead, Caroline? Michael and I need to have a little chat.”

  For a moment, Caroline looked like she would protest, but then she leant in and kissed Michael on the cheek.

  “Don’t keep him too long, Papa.” She gave her father a meaningful glare. “We have been too long apart already.”

  “I won’t.”

  When she hesitated a moment longer, her father gave her a glare of his own.

  “Go on, girl. The sooner you go, the sooner we can be done.”

  Watching his lover flounce away, Michael felt another small part of himself unfreeze. Only after she turned a corner and was lost to sight did he look at the man standing before him.

  Here it comes, he thought, but Caroline’s father merely met his gaze and held it.

  When the silence stretched too long between them, he broke it.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Caroline’s father opened the door to the cabin.

  “Only the usual things a father wants to say to his future son-in-law,” he replied. “I hear there’s a wedding in the offing.”