The Soul Monger

by Matilda Scotney

  “Where’s Xavier now?”

  Laurel looked at him sharply. He hadn’t uttered a word, just glanced at her and grinned.

  “I see, a test?” Then aloud. “He’s out on a ship near the nebula.”

  “Who told you that?”

  She shook her head and grinned back. No-one had mentioned Xavier was not on the asteroid, she still sensed him, until Harry drew her attention to his thoughts.

  “I’ll walk with you back to your quarters,” Harry extended his hand towards the corridor, inviting her to join him.

  “Okay,”

  “Just now, I got the idea you’ve got something on your mind?” then he chuckled. “See, reading minds isn’t so hard, even I can do it!”

  “It’s just that last night; we were discussing the war. We still find it bizarre, Harry, that these people strolled in and mounted a war against the League. It’s extraordinary. No reasons, no dialogue, no negotiations.”

  “I’d like to be able to provide the answers, but we just don’t know.”

  “It’s not only that. Why doesn’t the League draw on other systems for help?”

  “Canon Akkuh believes now you’re here, the war will be contained, and the other systems spared.”

  Laurel had no real knowledge of the League’s inner workings, but it all felt so untidy, so ill-thought out, so amateurish.

  “Harry, from what we understand, I mean us—the whole souls,” the title still didn’t sit well with Laurel. “This enemy came into League space to move on hundreds of star systems. Don’t you think that’s optimistic? There are six of us, all from a single inhabited planet. We can’t even comprehend that many inhabited worlds.”

  Harry understood, but without knowing the enemy’s reasoning for the invasion, there was little he could tell her.

  “They tried to get across the boundary of Semevale space,” he said, “to penetrate deeper into League territory. We were able to set up a blockade, but we don’t have enough ships to deploy between the nebula and Semevale as well. To begin with, they certainly had the element of surprise. They must have known somehow that we were unprepared.”

  “And that was foolish,” Laurel said, direct and to the point as she stopped walking and turned to face him.

  Harry was taken aback. “Do you think so? We’ve enjoyed centuries of peace; A peace that ended when this invader attacked Semevale 7. We’ve had to learn warfare in all its savagery and desolation. It’s an insult to everything we stand for. The fact remains, Laurel, if they advance beyond Semevale 8, our way of life is threatened.”

  Laurel regretted her harshness. How could they be prepared for a war when they felt so secure? The League had worked hard to gain that security and as a result, believed no-one could hold any sort of grudge against them. She was unfair, and she took the edge from her voice.

  “Harry, if they’re from a single planet, what would motivate them to take on an entire League? They must surely expect all the League systems and treaty planets to rally, or they might even see this containment of the war as a shortcoming of the League. And if as you say, you are inexperienced in fighting, then they can afford to be bold. They must know what the League is capable of.”

  “I don’t see how, Laurel. We can’t comprehend it ourselves, and we don’t know if they’re from a single world. So far, we’ve only resisted them; we haven’t even been successful in taking prisoners. Semevale 7 is a minor world, less densely populated and has no defences. The occupation was swift, and by the time the constabulary rallied to Semevale 7s aid, the enemy had a strong military presence. For our part, we had no military, just our law enforcement officers who are peacekeepers, mediators, moderators. The enemy kept us firmly at bay and only once have we breached their defences, resulting in a crushing defeat to the League. Fortunately, we had the technology to augment our weapons and link them to the NTI, so we at least brought ourselves into line with the enemy.

  “Semevale 8 is larger,” Harry continued, “and we have ships in permanent orbit, which makes it challenging for the enemy to pass through. Only a third of the planet is under their control. If we can stop their advance, even eliminate them altogether, we can shift our attention to liberating Semevale 7. We can’t allow the same genocide on Semevale 8.”

  “We’re aware of the background, Harry, but isn’t it possible sheer might and a conscription or volunteer force from the entire League might just slap them back into their hole.”

  Harry shook his head. “Canon Akkuh has stated, formally, we must do all in our power to keep this war contained.”

  “How can you keep war a secret?”

  “It’s not a secret, Laurel, but Canon Akkuh believes that while the war remains within the Semevale system, the rest of the League needs shielding from its effects. At his behest, Congress deliberately keeps it remote.”

  “Do you agree with that? I don’t know her well, but Congressman Bela didn’t seem the type to shove something as big as this under the carpet.”

  Harry gave a big, audible sigh. “I’m not a politician, Laurel. As it stands, no-one has yet voted no confidence in Canon Akkuh, so he leads us. There’s no military force other than the constabulary within League space, so any volunteers or conscripts would need combat training.”

  The League’s shortsightedness dismayed Laurel. “If you’d created an army as soon as you knew there was a threat, they would have been ready. Look at us, weeks of training only, and as you said, Canon Akkuh is not a strategist; neither am I for that matter, but can’t you see how the enemy might perceive you? It’s straightforward to drive off a few hundred if they aren’t established or just reconnoitering.” Laurel lifted her shoulders and shook her head, “It’s delaying the inevitable, Harry. Precious, limited resources are deployed in setting up a blockade around a star system to keep the enemy forces expanding into other territories. They could put those resources to better use in an offensive against the enemy.”

  It felt absurd to Laurel that she was discussing an intergalactic war an entire universe away from her home. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about defending star systems,” she muttered, her voice belying her disbelief. She drew in her breath. This was her reality now, and she needed to address this, not just for her, but for all of them. “Canon Akkuh trying to contain the war beggars belief.”

  “They see you as the solution.” Harry secretly agreed with her appraisal, but he wasn’t in any position to challenge the Canon, nor the League. “And the Soul Monger was commissioned in the opening months of the war.”

  “There are too few of us, Harry,” Laurel pointed out, not for the first time. “When we go into fight, assuming we survive, the enemy may catch on that we can identify them. If they realise you’re using whole souls, it might alter their plans and change the course of the war. It may become more brutal, and we, the whole souls, might become a focus.”

  “It’s not likely they’ve even heard of whole souls, not if they’re from across the nebula.”

  Laurel sighed. “Okay, rant over, we need to close the portals in the nebula. How much investigation has been done into finding another way across, so we could strike them on their homeworld?”

  “Closing the portals makes sense if it’s achievable,” Harry agreed. “Our experts have been working on a solution, but for now, we have to trust Xavier can forewarn us of movement within the nebula that our sensors can’t. As for other ways in, there aren’t any; the Miran Forin is endless as far as we can tell. For us, it represents the boundary of the known universe. But to the enemy...”

  “Not a boundary to them.”

  “So it would appear,” Harry smiled. He placed a hand on her shoulder. It felt warm and comforting, and she was glad he was here with them. “Now, enough about the war. If you’re not too tired, I’d like to learn about your home. My father left there long ago, but he still calls it ‘home’.”

  They strolled the long route back to Laurel’s quarters, through the passages of rock, where black scout ships and axispod
s stood in silent rows, the makeshift lights lifting star-like sparkles from the minerals lining the surfaces of the cave. Laurel told Harry about her work at the hospital, how archaic it must sound to him, and of her simple way of life and love of learning. He told her about his home on Mentelci; it’s glorious Wind Field seas which had little to do with water, but were vast nature reserves that emitted a gentle haze late in the evening. He described shining cities built on plateaus, good people and a harmonious combining of cultures.

  “Is that where your father lives?”

  “No,” Harry smiled the big smile that revealed his perfect teeth. “Too busy for him; he prefers a slower pace of life.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Ancient!”

  “Really? Where did he come from on Earth?”

  “It’s quite a tale. His name is Angus Campbell, born in Edinburgh, Scotland. Do you know it?”

  “I’ve never been there, but I know of it.”

  Harry admitted he knew little of Earth’s geography and possibly measured it against Mentelci, which was many times larger, so he gave Laurel an impressed nod that she’d heard of Scotland, not realising there were few places in the world anyone anywhere would not have known.

  “When he was a young man,” Harry told her, “a great war spread across your world. My father took a sailing vessel and crossed the ocean to another continent to hide away from civilisation. The notion of war filled him with loathing.”

  “Which continent?” Laurel guessed the father embellished this story for the benefit of his young son.

  “A land in the North. Canada. He established a place where his solitude was assured, where no-one would disturb him. There were a few like him, mountain men. He set up a shack, ate fish for food and grew produce that thrived in the wilderness, all the while living by his instincts. Later, he heard of another war, like the one before, making him glad he never rejoined humanity. Then he learned of yet another war that didn’t reach all over your world…” Harry paused, “You people have a lot of wars.”

  “Believe it,” Laurel admitted grimly. “Be thankful you’re only having one.”

  “My father was considerably older than most slaves.”

  “Do you know the year he was taken?”

  “He told me he was born in your year 1890, but as I don’t understand how your time plays out, I’m not sure. I know there were several wars and another before he was taken; I believe as an error on the part of the Soul Monger.”

  Laurel couldn’t work out how the time worked either. She was born in 1988; that meant his father…

  “I remember heading home from work, in the year 2018. By Earth’s calendar, your father is 128 years old!”

  “As I said,” Harry laughed, “he’s ancient even by our calculations. He told me he was about eighty-five in Earth years when I came along, and that men of that age seldom procreate. As he had a young child to care for, he underwent the cellular suppression Xavier had to reverse the ageing process and give him more years.”

  “Does everyone have that procedure?”

  Harry wrinkled up his nose. “I’m not sure if I will, but people often say they won’t then when they start to get old, change their mind. It’s available to anyone who wants it; I expect the decision rests on how satisfied and fulfilled a person is when they get to a certain age. My father was older than most when he had it; it’s usually done at around seventy.”

  “A procedure like that would be big business on Earth. On average, we only live to around eighty-five or ninety, some last a bit longer, rarely over a hundred, and disease takes others earlier.”

  “Living past one hundred is common here, but your world maintains a unique movement in time; one I don’t understand.”

  Laurel looked at him, intrigued. “Unique in what way?”

  “According to physicists and scientists who studied Earth whole souls and their histories, Earth appears to exhibit a hoop-like time effect that surrounds your planet; it’s an erratic sequence in time/space continuity that is present throughout your universe. In your galaxy, time progresses so far, stands still, fractures occur, strands of time move on, continuing until it turns full circle. It could be why your world has so many wars. It’s as if time flows in sequence and a fragment replays itself, but at separate rates in your universe. I’m not an expert, I’ve doubtless made it more confusing!”

  Laurel was confused but fascinated as well. “It’s not noticeable to us as a people, but I will say, talking of war, that is something that keeps repeating on Earth, we call them cycles; peace, followed by war, followed by peace. Famine, followed by plenty, followed by famine.”

  “The research documents,” Harry said. “ ‘A Treatise on the Cyclical Dimensions. A study into Whole Souls, Their Doctrines, Beliefs and Perception of Time’ is available on Mentelci.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “It’s big, Laurel,” Harry groaned and held his arms wide. “Very big. You’d need a star field to read it, and it’s the only study carried out, thrust under my nose at the same time I received the assignment to this post. It’s also old, nothing added to it in centuries.”

  “So you haven’t read it?”

  “No. I only checked out parts.”

  “How fascinating!” Laurel was intrigued by the prospect of viewing such a document. “I would love to get a perspective of my world from someone from another universe. Historical documents are quite my thing.”

  “Well, it’s not encoded. You can read it if you’ve got a mind, but it’s not in our database out here. You’d need to wait until after the war.”

  “I might just do that. I hate knowing people got snatched from their lives for no purpose other than to be slaves.”

  “It’s been going on since time immemorial, Laurel, even in the League, but as we became informed, enlightened, we desired to transform the views of our leaders, of our slave-owning societies, to change; but not everyone sees it the same. Even the Semevalians were slaveholders at one time. It was a way of life. Many half-souls in the League are descendants of half-soul slaves from way back, taken from other systems. I’m the only one with a living whole soul parent.”

  “The idea of slavery must be abhorrent to you then?”

  Harry hesitated. Slavery was indeed an abhorrent concept, but then, when he needed the services of a man who traded in slaves, he didn’t hesitate. How easy to abandon the moral high ground when you believe you’re in the right.

  “We became desperate, Laurel,” Harry said bleakly. “Your abilities could turn the tide of this war, and I will admit, when we contacted Darlen to engage his services, our thoughts were with the Semevalians and the possibility of their extinction rather than what it might mean to you.”

  “Who is ‘we’? Congress?”

  “Yes, a closed ballot. The decision to bring whole souls in wasn’t unanimous.”

  Laurel bit back a retort that probably Canon Akkuh had voted against them, but it was likely such information was classified. Besides, she had no reason to believe he didn’t support their arrival here.

  They reached Laurel’s quarters.

  “It’s nice to talk with you, Laurel,” Harry’s eyes settled on her face. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

  “Of course,” Laurel answered, surprised. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Because we ‘snatched’ you from your life, to take part in a war you didn’t start.”

  “Neither did you, by the sound of it.” Laurel patted his arm, “We don’t think of ourselves as slaves, and you can count on us to do our best.”

  Harry hesitated for a single moment; she sensed he had something further to add, and she tilted her head to one side.

  But he just smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Issie had left for the evening. Eli and Xavier still hadn’t returned, and Marta and Chloe were asleep. Helen was lying on her bed; she looked up as Laurel entered.

  “Out on a date with the commander?”

  “Not a date,
Helen, we were talking.”

  Helen flicked up her eyebrows and grinned a mischievous grin before turning over to face the wall.

  “Just talking, Helen. I promise,” Laurel said to Helen’s back, but Helen’s mind was busy matchmaking. Loudly.

  Chapter 18

  Xavier and Eli returned late. They crept around trying not to wake the others, but Laurel’s mind was too active to allow sleep. Xavier felt her eyes on him.

  “You awake?” he whispered.

  Laurel nodded.

  “Do you want to chat?”

  “Okay,” Laurel climbed from her top bunk and slid to the floor, taking care not to step on a snoring Helen.

  They strolled along the passageways to the exercise sector and parked themselves in a corner. The only other occupant in the gymnasium was a lone crewman using a holointerface. Combat droids stood quiescent against the wall; one of them a replacement for the unit Cere vaporised.

  “I’m glad I’m not fighting that thing. It’d give me nightmares,” Xavier grinned.

  “They’ve given me a few bruises,” Laurel laughed. “But I don’t understand why you aren’t at least doing the weapons training.”

  “I did a bit with the guns, but this base is going to be empty apart from the surveillance unit and me. My only weapon is my wits.”

  “You sensed something when we first arrived.”

  “I still sense it, something in the nebula. I’m aware of it all the time; perhaps that’s why I’m the one singled out to stay, that it’s not just my age.” Xavier touched a fingertip to his brow. “It’s there, Laurel, in my head. A big tease, dreamlike, and the harder I try to hold onto details, the more they slip away.” He held up his fingers, measuring out a tiny distance, “It’s this much out of my reach and I don’t know what it is. Even being out there tonight…” Xavier’s voice trailed away, and Laurel followed his thoughts out to the nebula.

  “Xavier,” she said, softly. “Why aren’t we terrified? Discovering we’re telepathic, seeing things others don’t. The war.”