by Drew Avera
With her eyes still closed, Carista pulled Anki towards the glowing portal. Anki tried to shield her eyes from the wind and it flew past her at an incredible rate of speed. Still, it somehow seemed to not prevent them from walking towards it. She expected heat to be engulfing them by now, but nothing really changed, just the brightening of the lights and the sensation that the air was rushing past them. A part of her vaguely remembered a similar sensation from when Carista transported them to the Replicade before, But most of those memories were lost somehow, as if she only heard stories about what happened and formulated the images in her mind. This was real, though, she was experiencing the magic of Carista’s power and her mind was latching onto it, trying to decipher it so she would not forget again. But this is all in vain, she thought, she will not let me remember this. Carista’s hand tightened on hers as if in response to what Anki was thinking. It made Anki smile nonetheless. It didn’t matter if she remembered. What mattered was if they were successful.
She turned to look back at Brendle who watched her with his arms crossed. There was concern in his eyes, but she could see he was fighting to keep it at bay to support her decision to do this. He was leaning forward as if he was withstanding the torrent of wind rushing past Anki and Carista. Perhaps it feels different for them, she thought as she gazed into his eyes.
“I love you,” he mouthed, or perhaps he said it, but she could not hear him.
“I love you too,” she said before turning to follow Carista into the abyss and leaving the Replicade behind.
24
Brendle
The brilliance of blue light arcing across the bridge blinded Brendle, but he watched anyway, despite the searing pain as it burned his retinas. Anki held Carista’s hand, the two silhouettes eclipsing the portal Carista created with her mind. He watched them nervously, waiting for the heat radiating through the nerves of his body to catch fire to the Replicade, but it never came. Deep inside, he knew the heat wasn’t real, just another mirage of his mind trying to make sense of what was happening around him. Deep inside, he knew that was a lie being projected onto him by Carista as she looked back at him with emerald eyes fading into amber as Anki’s hand tightened on hers. He saw it all happening before him, but he felt it too. They were connected in a way previously unimaginable, but now he couldn’t imagine it any other way. It was like being bound to a sibling, sharing a heart, sharing lungs, sharing a mind, while being wholly separate at the same time. that’s how I look at it anyway, he thought as they took the first step towards the portal.
“Wait,” he said softly; not loud enough for them to hear him, but they felt his words, were saddened by it. His eyes met with Anki’s, a smile forming on her lovely lips. He craved to kiss them, to hold her to him, to feel her heart beating through her chest as she lay with him. Carista looked back as well, her own smile etched on face mirrored Anki’s, but it was fighting back fear. He could see it as tears welled in her eyes. There were many things he wanted to say. “Don’t do it. You don’t have to do this. There’s another way.” But his lips fell silent against his will. Carista silenced him. She doesn’t want those words to be spoken. She doesn’t want a way out, he thought.
Anki smiled and said, “I love you too.” Had she not heard me? Brendle thought for a moment and realized that Carista probably changed what he said before it hit Anki’s ears. A part of him wanted to be angry, but it was probably for the best. Instead, he just watched them move closer to the portal.
Anki and Carista stepped forward again. This time the lower portion of their bodies were enveloped in the brilliant glow. Brendle was distracted by Deis’ and Malikea’s hands holding his shoulders.
“What are you‒?”
“You need to let them go,” Deis said, his voice unnatural.
“It is the only way,” Malikea added.
Brendle looked up in time to see their forms disappear, absorbed by the blue orb pulsing in front of him. He wanted to run towards it, to pull them back to safety. To hell with CERCO. We will outrun them just as we outran the Telran and Crase Tuin. These were his own thoughts now, but they echoed in his mind as pure fantasy. His heart knew better and it ached nonetheless.
Just as quickly as Carista and Anki disappeared, he saw movement in the light again. His hand found his gun, cradling the grip in his hand, flexing his fingers around it for something resembling control of the situation. “Someone’s coming,” he said, wanting to back away, but his feet were planted to the deck by fear, by anxiety, by not knowing.
Deis drew his weapon. It looked larger than necessary to Brendle as Deis leveled it towards the portal. He tried to draw his own weapon, but he was paralyzed. I should be afraid because I cannot move, but I am strangely comforted by it. The bridge whirled in his vision, pulsing with the deadening beat of his heart as it pounded wildly in his chest.
“There’s something happening.” His words fell in hushed tones, barely audible to his own ears. “This is it,” he said as the figure within the portal grew larger, darker against the swirling mirage of blue energy. It birthed a figure moments later. A woman. Anki.
He ran to her, only a few steps, but he was in a hurry to take her in his arms as she was birthed from brilliancy of the portal. Anki came out disheveled, tired looking, in shock as she fell into Brendle’s waiting embrace. “Are you all right?” He wrapped his arms around her, noticing how cold she felt, her body quivering as it pressed against him.
“I think so,” she said.
“What happened over there?”
She looked up at him, her amber eyes wide. “I think I saw the future.”
Brendle looked at her questioningly while Deis wrapped a blanket around her. “If you saw the future, then what happens?”
Silence followed his question as she wrapped her arms around herself, fighting to stay warm. He could hear her teeth chattering as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t remember.”
The portal behind her closed with a loud clatter. Sparks flew in all directions and Brendle’s hair stood on end as the static in the air filled the room.
“The portal is closed,” Deis said. “We need to get out of here.”
Brendle cut his eye at Deis. “Can you get us clear?” Deis nodded. “Do it. I’m taking her to our room to rest. Call me if you need me.”
“Roger that,” Deis said as he fell in behind the console, Malikea stood behind him quietly. “Mal, you’re going to want to strap in.”
Malikea took a seat across from Deis as Brendle led Anki off the bridge. She was still shivering, but her legs were no longer as shaky as they had been when she first stepped back through the portal.
“How long was I there?”
Brendle looked down at her. “You mean on the other side of the portal?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe fifteen or twenty seconds.”
She cut a glance towards him. “Are you sure?”
“No more than thirty seconds, for sure.”
“Impossible,” she whispered.
Brendle opened the door to their room and helped her climb into bed. Anki buried herself in the blankets, wrapping herself in layer after layer. “What do you mean impossible?”
She looked out at him through a small opening in the blanket. “I was there for weeks,” she answered.
Taken aback, Brendle sat on the bed next to her. “Are you sure? Deis and Malikea will tell you, we never moved from where we were on the bridge. We watched you step through the portal and then you were back. I think I hardly even blinked while you were gone.”
“I know I was there for a long time,” she answered. “I didn’t think I would make it back.”
“What happened while you were there?”
Anki pulled the blanket from her head and looked at him, the color in her cheeks returning to a normal complexion. “I saw the war, I think. And I think I saw how it ended.”
“You think?” Brendle was confused.
“I saw things,
but now I can hardly remember them. I can recall glimpses, tiny fragments of small moments in time. All I remember was that I was scared, but it wasn’t just my fear, it was hers as well.”
Brendle rubbed Anki’s back delicately, hoping to warm her up and comfort her as she regained her strength and settled back into being on the Replicade. “Maybe it was a vision created by Carista,” he suggested.
“Maybe, but it felt real.”
“Brendle, are you seeing this?” Deis said over the intercom.
Brindle stood up and ran over to the monitor and brought up the sensory array. He could see the massive CERCO ship, but only after he zoomed out on the image. “I am now,” he answered back.
Anki stood next to him, her blanket dragging against the deck as she walked over to him. “What’s going on?”
Brindle pointed to a pinpoint of light in the center of the ship. “I think that is the portal left behind on the ship. If everything goes as planned then that is where the fireworks will begin.”
Within the span on a heartbeat, the CERCO ship fractured under the strain of a bulging orb of bright blue light. It was Carista’s portal expanding in a physical forming, tearing the ship at the seams as Brendle and Anki watched.
“The inside of the ship is exposed to vacuum now,” Deis said. “The scan is showing a significant loss of heat in some areas, but with that much energy, you would think the heat would increase.”
Brindle looked at Anki as she shivered next to him. “Maybe not,” he said. “Anki came back from the other side cold. Perhaps the heat is being drained to feed the portal, like it is absorbing energy.”
“Like how a black hole absorbs energy and light?” Deis asked.
“Maybe.”
Anki leaned in closer to Brendle as they watched the CERCO ship continue to bulge out before it finally exploded outward. The Replicade shook as the energy from the ship going nova radiated against the hull of the warship. The monitor blanked out for a moment and when the image was finally rebooted and restored, they saw nothing more than a small blue orb floating in the darkness where Carista had been.
“That’s impossible,” Brendle said.
“What?” Anki asked, her voice drowsy from the energy it took to restore her body heat.
“Deis, do you see that?”
“I do, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Can you take us to her?”
“The radiation levels are too high, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Deis replied.
Brindle swore under his breath. “I don’t care about that; if she’s there then we need to save her.”
“Brendle, look,” Anki said as she pointed at the blue orb on the screen. It grew in size and brightness. Brindle imagined that was what the birth of a star looked like as he watched, mesmerized by the beauty and brilliance of the light.
Anki took his hand, her cold skin drawing heat from him. Together they watched as the light grew larger and larger. And then it disappeared.
“She’s gone,” Brendle said, forcing the words out past the sob forming in his throat. He felt Anki crying next to him and saw Deis and Malikea embrace one another. Despite the harrowing events that brought them together, he knew every member of the crew had grown attached to the girl named Carista. He was not above saying he had feared her, but over the course of events that brought them to this point, he began to care. I wish I could have saved her, he thought as tears fell from his eyes.
As the Replicade drifted further away from the growing debris field, he kept his eyes open for anything that might stand out to him. Logic dictated that there was no room to hold hope after what had happened, but he didn’t want that to be the final goodbye. Deep inside, he hoped that was not the end of Carista.
Anki squeezed his hand and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him. “Did we do the right thing?”
Brendle swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t know, but we did the only thing that we could do. That has to count for something.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“I don’t know who’s keeping count, but if it doesn’t count, then at least she got to go out the way she wanted to.” His words felt empty as he said them, as if there was no meaning behind them that amounted to anything worthwhile. That was what death brought to them, though; an emptiness that can never be filled again. And this time it claimed a little girl whose life was full of tragedy.
“Good bye, Carista,” he whispered. “I hope you found happiness on the other side.”
25
Ilium
A stasis pod sat in the dark hold of the King Slayer, silently preserving the life form inside. The space, normally empty, sat hauntingly in the quiet, secluded area of the ship as Ilium stepped up to the pod and wiped away the fog covering the glass window, revealing the person inside. The man was larger than Ilium, his skin a pale grayish color, and his dark hair spotted with gray strands. From Ilium’s point of view, the pirate looked almost old enough to be his father, but none the worse for wear. With the advancements in technology, Ilium knew the man would have access to medical care that rivaled the capabilities on Greshia. Considering the man was found orbiting Farax probably meant they had much of the same procedures as the mother planet in that sector, but this pirate was not considered a citizen of Greshia. If anything, he was a leach on the system, and a danger to Greshian expansion. In a perfect world he would be dead, but these were complicated times.
“Hello,” Ilium said, his voice a low growl as he stood in the darkness. The only light permeating the space around him coming came from the green glow emanating from the stasis pod. The readout on the pod showed all the life support information about the person inside. Ilium smiled as he recognized that whatever injuries the pirate had sustained were now repaired by the nanites during stasis. The man’s heart and brain functions were nominal which meant he could be safely revived and utilized if necessary. Now seems necessary, Ilium thought as he ran his fingers along the control panel of the pod and typed in a series of numbers he acquired from Chief Harso before his unceremonious departure from the King Slayer. Once Ilium pressed the last number, the console illuminated green and the lock disengaged. Fog filled the space around him as the cold temperature air seeped from the seams on the pod into the warmer air of the cargo hold. The cool rush of air chilled Ilium’s flesh causing goose bumps to appear on the bare skin of his arms. He ignored it and waited for closed eyes to open, to awake to a world the mind behind them could not fathom.
Within the span of a dozen heartbeats, the groggy eyes of a once dead man opened. Ilium stared into them, trying to read the thoughts of the man, beyond the onset confusion of coming back into consciousness. “Who are you?”
Ilium smiled, not attempting to hide the wicked grin creeping upon his face. “My name is Ilium and I am the commanding officer of the GNS Hamæråté. What is your name?”
The man’s eyes widened. Probably because he knows he is fucked being on a Greshian ship, Ilium thought. “Crase Tuin,” he answered flatly.
“Mr. Tuin, you are in a very sad state of circumstances. My ship found you after investigating a distress call from a ship called the Replicade. Do you know of that ship?”
“Yes,” Crase answered.
“Good. When we arrived, the Replicade was gone. After a search around Farax, though, we found your transport floating in orbit around the planet. The drive was offline and we presumed it to be empty. When we reeled it in, we found you, barely alive, I might add. Despite direct orders from Central Command to have all pirates killed on sight, I decided to show mercy and have you held in stasis. I am undecided, however, if that was a good decision on my part.”
“If you’re going to kill me then do it,” Crase interrupted.
Ilium turned to face him. “Don’t ever interrupt me again. Do you understand?”
Crase glared back at Ilium and said nothing. Ilium read his response in the man’s eyes.
“I am in a difficult situation right now. I have los
t my ship due to a fabricated mutiny. The ones blamed for this mutiny have been killed and I am now stuck on the most advanced warship in our fleet. Unfortunately, that means my hands are tied when it comes to personal endeavors. With that said, I would like to hire you for a job.”
Crase stared at Ilium for a long moment. Both men looked each other down, trying to read each other.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
A smile curled Ilium’s lips. “No, this is no joke, Mr. Tuin. But this is an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what?”
“Were you not after the Replicade?”
Crase was silent for a moment before answering. “I was.”
“I have reason to believe that someone whom I would like to see dead is on that ship; a Greshian,” Ilium said.
“Brendle?”
The irony that the pirate knew the name of the man Ilium harbored so much hate for was staggering. “That is his name. I’m assuming you’ve met him?”
Crase smiled this time. “I had a run in with him and his woman along with a couple of Lechuns on Farax. I didn’t know his name until I heard someone say it, but I got a good look at him. He looks a lot like you, just with longer hair and an itchy trigger finger.”
The comparison made Ilium want to spit in the man’s face, but he understood what Crase meant. Most bigots thought each species looked too similar to one another to distinguish, but it was just ignorance finding breath. There is no harm in the words of a tool, Ilium thought. “Yes, well I want you to find them and kill them all. Destroy them at any cost.”
“I don’t want to damage the ship. She is my ship,” Crase said.
“The Replicade? I can give a shit less about that ship. I want Brendle Quin dead and I want you to do it.”
“I’ll only do it if I can do it on my terms. I said I want that ship.”
Ilium’s smile fell away and his eyes grew cold and sinister. “I said I don’t care.”
