There was too much to calculate with the time he had. If he escaped now, he might never be able to get back to the others, or even Earth. He thought about the children he had seen dotted around the cargo bay.
Screw it!
He told himself he could do both. He would escape now and find a way to help them later. As long as he didn’t get his hands on any alcohol.
He reached down and roughly picked up the quivering technician. Good, he thought, they feel fear. Without an explanation, he shoved the alien through the port and into the pod. He followed him in and dragged him to the nearest chair.
“You. Fly. Away!” He shouted his words because that would make him easier to understand.
Roland pointed at the console and then at the viewport in hopes of giving direction. He heard boots moving around outside, they had decided to come looking for him. When the technician made no move he decided a more universal form of communication was required. He stood back to leverage the long weapon and pointed it at the alien’s face. The alien’s hands responded by moving across the console, closing the pod door behind them. It was extraordinary to see the alien hands at work. The back was covered in the same diamond scales, but he noticed the palms were a darker blue like the lips.
The door sealed just in time as Roland had looked back to see a black-clad soldier levelling his weapon. Metallic thumps resounded from the other side.
Roland fell back into the wall as the escape pod left its housing in the main ship. The compensators were never state-of-the-art in an escape pod; apparently, that fact was universal as well. The alien was blurting out unintelligible words while frantically running his fingers across the console. He was impressed with the level of technology in such a dispensable ship. The holograms were all interactive, not requiring the alien pilot to always use the console.
Human technology had never achieved such a feat; holograms were simple projections and did not respond to touch. He noticed too that the viewport doubled as a screen, showing different readouts against the starry backdrop. The pod suddenly changed course, giving them both a very different view. Roland lowered his weapon in awe of the sight. He wiped the sweat from around his eyes thinking his vision must be blurred.
They were now heading towards a planet, or at least it had been at some point. He couldn’t explain what he was looking at. The planet was completely cracked in half horizontally. The exterior surface was charred black as if it had been burnt and the land had never recovered. The edges were covered in cracks and giant craters. There were three canyons on this side alone that could be seen traversing the surface. A section of the bottom hemisphere looked as though some cosmic giant had taken a bite out of it. The most extraordinary thing of all was the contents of the two halves. Each half of the planet was connected by a single tower in the shape of an egg timer, with the middle section being narrower. He estimated it to be similar in size to Earth’s moon. Stretching out from that were hundreds of cylindrical towers that were erected at every angle. They formed an artificial cobweb that connected the two halves together with faint bridges between them all.
What was he looking at? Was this some kind of alien city in space? Every structure was lit up from inside with an unfathomable population. The buzz around the planet was impressive as well. Ships of every size and shape flew to and from the planet passing by the escape pod.
Where the hell am I?
Kalian couldn’t stop looking at the image of the Conclave. Over the last few days, he and Li’ara had been studying the different text and images given to them by Ilyseal. However, Li’ara had to translate most, as Kalian could only see a few words now. He had begun to make the distinction between what Telarrek called the Conclave, with the Highclave residing within, and Conclave the society. He now reasoned that everyone lived within the Conclave, but the capital planet was simply referred to as the Conclave.
The hologram showed a perfectly detailed planet that had apparently broken in half across the middle. He manipulated the image with his fingers so he could see inside at the planet’s alien contents. He was enjoying the data module and its interactive holograms; it made his Data-pad look obsolete. There were hundreds of towers that surrounded an even larger one in the middle, with a city-like structure both above and below that wove between the cylindrical towers.
Their information told them that this was the capital of the Conclave with a varying population in the high billions. It was six times the size of Earth and three times the size of Century. He wondered if it had been Ilyseal’s idea to put human comparatives in the module for them. The history behind the capital’s broken appearance was of great interest to Kalian. Like the founding of so many great things, the Conclave’s beginnings were violent and bloody. The Novaarians were allied with the Shay and the Ch’kara while being opposed by the Laronians and the Raalak. The species came to war over territorial disputes and resources therein. The history files were similar to Earth’s in their comparison to an older generation being prone to violence and what would now be considered primitive reactions.
Being over a hundred thousand years ago there was no shying away from the horrific actions taken by each side; in fact, Kalian reasoned the story was now used as a lesson to the entire Conclave. At the time the Ch’kara and the Shay were working on a new mode of transport that could open up a portal in space/time and teleport their soldiers into enemy territory without risking a space battle. The Laronians meanwhile, had set up a staging post on a backwater planet, with a young species of intelligent life inhabiting it.
The Novaarians and their allies used this new technology to transport troops onto the surface of this primitive world, and surprise their enemy. The file simply read as a calculation error regarding what happened next. The portal didn’t open on the surface but, instead, ripped a hole in reality within the planet’s core. This destabilised the core and started a chain reaction that caused the planet to crack in half, after killing everything on the surface with volcanic eruptions and eventual loss of atmosphere. The scientists and troops on the Novaarian side were exposed to the raw conditions of the planetary core, wiping out half a continent on their own staging planet.
When the dust settled, both sides realised that they had committed genocide of an innocent species and spilt an ocean of blood on both sides. In the ruin of this broken planet, all the races came together under a banner of trust and hope for the future. It was agreed that the technology would receive no further research in favour of pooling their resources to better the Solar Drive. The capital’s appearance was a constant reminder of the devastation that could be caused if the Conclave wasn’t united.
They had spent the last three days reviewing as much information as they could in between their sparring. He was impressed with himself at the progress he had made in a week. Only once had he managed to best Li’ara, but he suspected she let him to lighten his mood at losing so much. He had become increasingly frustrated with his progress in using his strange abilities, though. He felt like he was constantly on the edge of understanding it before another flying object hit him in the head. Thankfully most of his bruises were on his body and went unnoticed by the Novaarians. It hadn’t escaped either of them how quickly such wounds healed...
On the sixth night, after sparring with Li’ara, she asked him about his body, more to the point his physique. He always felt a little confused on the matter as well.
“Did you go to a gym, back on Earth I mean?” She had pointed to the well-formed muscles around his abdomen. “I know they’re not augmented, otherwise I would have broken my hands by now.”
He suddenly felt very conscious about his lack of a top. “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you how I got like this.”
Li’ara’s confusion had been obvious. “You’re telling me your body just formed naturally this way, biceps and all?”
Kalian had let out an anxious laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “I guess so...”
“So this is just one of your things then?” She wav
ed her hands around mimicking his telekinesis.
He just shrugged, not really sure what to say. He had been through puberty like everyone else. It was only when he was sixteen that he realised not everybody changed like him.
“You lucky bastard.” Li’ara couldn’t help but laugh, and Kalian couldn’t help but get drawn in.
It had been a good evening after that. Li’ara let her guard down and actually talked about her life. Fearing this might never happen again Kalian didn’t dare breathe.
“My father was in Calais... when they attacked.”
They had already finished dinner and reviewed information on a species known as the Ch’kara, another species that had a seat on the Highclave. While seated on the comfy sofas she had finally opened up about her own losses on Earth.
Like him, she had no siblings and her mother had died when she was a child due to a rare bacteria found only on Titan, one of Saturn’s moons. Her mother had been a research scientist for a branch of Central Parliament. All scientists worked for some branch of Parliament, following the dissolving of all the corporations in the last war. Her father had worked in the Central Museum in Rome where much of the ancient world had been catalogued after the wars.
Kalian himself had visited the museum in his early twenties and loved the exhibitions on life in the twenty-second century. He had always admired the people of that age for surviving such horrific environmental conditions. He shuddered to think what might have happened had they never invented the Weather Net to control the atmosphere. He wondered if he had seen Li’ara’s father and never known it.
She told him that it was her father who had raised her and even encouraged her to join the UDC. He wanted his daughter to grow up strong and be able to defend herself, to live, she had said.
“I spoke with him not long before I met you at The Hub. He was going to visit one of the protected vineyards he used to walk with my mother.”
Li’ara had actually cried that night, in front of him. At first, he didn’t know what to do. This was a first even for him. He had spent most of his life avoiding emotional connections to people; his lack of experience was obvious. He awkwardly placed his hand around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. She had cried on and off for a while before they both fell asleep on the sofa.
The next morning Kalian woke up on his own with dry saliva on one side of his mouth. He assumed at some point in the night she had woken up and left, she didn’t seem the cuddling type. He silently hoped she hadn’t seen the drool though.
When they next saw each other Li’ara was accompanied by Ilyseal outside his door.
“We have arrived,” Ilyseal said.
He looked at Li’ara who gave no indication she had been crying most of the night. She was back to being the soldier, at least by training if not rank.
Soon after, they found themselves on the command bridge with Telarrek and dozens of other Novaarians. They were all standing by their posts in silence, but this time it wasn’t because of Kalian and Li’ara. Along with Telarrek, they gazed ahead to the front of the command bridge.
“We are home...” The expansive viewport gave a picture-perfect image of the Conclave.
9
Shouting didn’t seem to be working for him. The piloting alien kept raising his hands in the air with frustration at their communication issues. Much to Roland’s surprise though it appeared his alien companion had some level of understanding, despite his own confusion. After reaching a certain distance to the cracked planet, the pilot had apparently lost control of the pod’s direction. By the time the viewport was filled with the main tower, they had slipped into what could only be described as traffic.
Roland didn’t understand it but he guessed something automated took control of all ships within the perimeter of the planet. Everywhere he looked, ships of all sizes were being directed out of their lane and off to some unseen landing area. He began to wonder how each ship knew where to go.
“Have you done this?” He waved at the slow-moving ships directly ahead.
The alien couldn’t take his eyes off the gun Roland was poking him with. He replied in some strange gibberish that just annoyed Roland even more. The console pinged as a holographic image in red popped up. It showed the pod passing through a thin barrier that wrapped around the horizontal break in the planet.
“What does that mean?” Before the gibberish began again, he held up his hand to the alien’s face. What was the point? He wouldn’t understand it anyway.
Roland didn’t like this. For all he knew, the pilot had entered coordinates for the nearest garrison of soldiers. Leaning forward, he peered out of the viewport and checked the area out. He could see now that as well as the cylindrical towers there was a city hanging from the roof of the interior with spires protruding from the bottom. Both cities were wrapped around the bases of the main tower. He felt like a needle that had just fallen into a planet-sized haystack. Ships were ever on the move between the cylinders and the main tower. The cities above and below were so far away that everything looked like ants moving over an ant hill.
They were cast in shadow as a monolithic ship passed overhead. He knew a warship when he saw one. It didn’t look like the one that attacked Alpha; this one was slightly smaller but covered in armaments. It was clearly made up of five sections down the length of the vessel, ending in sloping quadruple engines, one pair stacked on top of the other.
The front of the vessel looked more like a battering ram as it sloped down at a forty-five degrees angle. Each of the five sections was a different shape but they were all perfectly in line. As it angled away he could see that there was an even larger set of quadruple engines above the others. A sleek looking bridge pod protruded from the rear of the ship at the same forty-five degrees angle as the battering ram. Overall the ship was a deep shine of red with a black hull in-between the different sections.
One look at the bulky cannons lining the sides was all Roland needed. He was glad however that it was heading away from the planet and out into space. He’d had enough; it was time to take back control. Peering out again, he looked at the lower half of the main tower. For some reason, his instincts always told him to go down when he was in a pinch. Roland saw several lines of the same kind of traffic entering the tower at different ports. What caught his eye were the smaller ports with individual ships landing on extended platforms.
“Down there! Take us down there!” He pointed the gun at the alien then in the direction he wanted to go.
The alien pointed at the console and then the tower while chattering away. Looking him up and down, Roland reasoned the alien knew his way around electronics; after all, he was in the room with the escape pods. He’d let him get comfortable on the flight over, he needed to show dominance over his hostage.
“It seems to me you have a pretty good grasp of what I’m saying.” Roland kept his voice level this time. The pilot seemed to be more terrified by that than the shouting. “You’re going take control of this little can and you’re going to take us down there onto one of the empty platforms.”
Roland dropped the barrel of the rifle, letting it rest on the chair between the pilot’s legs. If his biology was similar to humans, he would take its positioning seriously.
A dark pointed tongue licked the alien’s lips as he thought over his options. He raised his hands as if surrendering, before turning back to the console. Roland kept the rifle trained on his mid-section. A red holographic image emitted from the console with what looked to be a hand-sized dial. The alien gripped the dial and turned it clockwise towards an arrangement of symbols he didn’t understand. The console pinged again and different lights switched on around the pod. Two domes of holographic light appeared in front of the alien to which he responded by placing his hands over each. Showing a clear understanding of Roland’s request, he rotated the domes of light until the pod veered away from the line of other ships. It dropped vertically, though neither of them felt the change in inertia.
Roland c
ould see now why such lines were more practical. The pilot was constantly dodging other ships with the viewport giving a heads-up display of incoming traffic. He saw a particularly empty looking platform near the bottom with a few cube-shaped containers to one side. It didn’t look as well maintained as the platforms further up and he felt it a fair assumption that it would be easier to hide there. He pointed it out so the alien could manoeuvre the pod around the containers.
With a little less finesse than his flying, the pilot dropped the pod onto the landing bay to the sound of scraping metal. Now safely on the platform the pilot had served his purpose as far as Roland was concerned. Before his hands had even left the holographic domes Roland brought the butt of the rifle down on the ridge of his eye. He didn’t want to kill, there was nothing to be gained in that, but he didn’t want him waking up for a while either.
Looking at the view outside he was well aware they were in a vacuum. Roland moved from his seat to rummage through the pod’s supplies in search of a vac suit and breather gear. It made sense that an escape pod would have such measures. Most of the things he found were totally alien to him. He thought some of it might be medical supplies but how they were applied was a mystery. Roland was thankful however for the sachets of water in one of the lower drawers. He drained the first one and stored the other in his belt.
When he opened the last cabinet, he was disheartened to find a pair of boots instead of a vac suit. With a closer inspection, he recognised the boots as the ones worn by the invading troops on the Hammer. Defying gravity wouldn’t be a bad advantage to have. He removed the boots to check the size before noticing the ninja-style toe cap. There was no way he could split his toes through that divide. It was only after taking a closer look at the sole of the boot he realised it didn’t matter. The base of the boots was lined in a silver casing etched in ridges. Underneath were two circular ports that sat under the ball of the foot and the heel. Roland prised the casing from the boots and applied it to his own. He had no idea how to use them; he hoped it was an automatic process. It was possible they reacted to a change in pressure or simply a lack of contact with the floor. As good as they were, they wouldn’t get him out of this pod.
The Terran Cycle Boxset Page 24
