The Kingdom of Noitcif

Chapter Twenty-Three - Technology at its Best

  Landing in Ytilaer came in three stages. First, there was a loud rumbling noise, accompanied by violent shaking; next, the plane gave a terrific lurch, causing both Espen and Engres to grip their seats tighter still; and finally, as the plane shuddered down a short runway, the emperor squeezed his eyes shut, unlocked the door between the living quarters and the cockpit, flung it open, and bellowed, "Optekar!" at the top of his lungs.

  "I do apologize for the landing, Estevan," Engres said through gritted teeth as he closed the door and turned back to his nephew. "I'm going to flog that new pilot."

  After a moment, two burly men came in, locked arms with Espen's bound ones, and proceeded to drag him along through a blackened corridor of the plane, his uncle leading the way. Meanwhile, the emperor's men on board were appearing out of various alcoves and doorways. Engres nodded at each one as he passed, but their eyes were hardly glancing towards their leader. Instead, all of their gazes were intent on Espen, and every one of them contained the glow of mockery and triumph.

  Engres hastily tapped a code into a keypad beside the exit, and the huge steel door opened with a bang. Espen found himself unable to come to grips with the scene outside.

  The world that stretched out in front of him - bathed in the shine of the full moon - was nothing like Noitcif, or the Base World. Skyscrapers jutted out from the ground, littered with thousands of illuminated shapes. Some of the buildings were so tall the tips couldn't even be seen. Planes and hovercrafts glided around in the sky like oddly shaped birds, and every so often, one of the buildings would glow a blueish green, having been powered by some unseen force. The city seemed to stretch on and on for all eternity.

  "Impressive, isn't it?" Engres asked with a grin as he noticed his nephew's shocked expression. "I built this place from the ground up. There was hardly anything here when I first arrived. It took twenty-four years, but it was well worth it in the end."

  He began to lead Espen out of the aircraft when one of the guards holding the hostage spoke up beside him.

  "Would you like us to escort the king to the dungeons, Emperor? You would probably like to have him off your hands."

  Engres' eyes narrowed. "I see what you're looking at, Fiber."

  It was then Espen realized that the guard's eyes were not looking at him. They were staring just above his head at his crown.

  "And no. I have him under control. I don't trust any of you with what this boy has."

  Once again, Espen was mostly dragged along, this time by his uncle, with a throng of guards following them.

  "Are you planning to use... it, Emperor?" one of them asked warily.

  "Of course!" Engres said curtly, walking faster still.

  Ahead, another guard rushed to change the position of the staircase they were ascending so it led where his leader anticipated on going. At the top of the stairs, one of the Ytilaerians approached with a somber expression.

  "Your subjects are exceedingly cooperative, Emperor. Consider the risks, I beg you." He bowed slightly to emphasize his request.

  The emperor only flashed him a sardonic grin and stated, "I have, Ciphor. I have."

  Finally, Espen caught sight of their destination. The maze of skyscrapers and levitating walkways they had been traveling on opened up to reveal a huge, illuminated castle. Taller than anything else in the city, it spiraled into the air with rigidly spiked steel that glowed a cobalt blue. It was in the shape of a thin, serrated triangle, and the straight edges and spikes that adorned it gave off a sinister appearance. As Engres led his nephew inside, the group that had escorted them bowed, and remained outside.