Convict Fenix

by Alan Brickett

  He nodded once in reply.

  She carefully and slowly stepped down the narrow wooden planks to the side of the wagon seat. The oxen still mewled a bit, but since they weren’t in direct harm, they settled down with wide eyes, watching everything they could.

  Smoke still rose up into the air as the fires burned out.

  Odon could see the flame-covered being waiting as the Inja started to get everyone off their wagons. All along the caravan were more of the bandits raiding other members, the wives and children obeying their orders.

  His attention snapped back to his own predicament when one of the other Inja asked with an evil tone, “You are a fine-looking woman, aren’t you?”

  The expression on his face as he looked Latai up and down brought a surge of nausea into Odon, along with the ongoing fear of what was happening—and what creature it was happening for.

  “You can have her in a moment,” the first Inja chided, moving closer to look into the wagon.

  At the sight of Odon and Ayana, he looked back over his shoulder at Latai.

  “Get them out here,” he commanded.

  “They are just children. Leave them be,” Latai said softly, bowing from the waist with respect and a request for decency.

  The other two Inja laughed at her, full-throated laughs with their own sound of taunting. Odon could hear everything he needed to know about these men from that sound alone.

  The first gestured at the wagon inside and spoke again.

  “Get them out now, woman, unless you want to see the Asagi burn them to ashes inside your wagon.”

  At that, Latai paled again.

  Her knees went weak, and she stayed standing only out of sheer force of will to protect her children. Odon was overcome, at the mention of “Asagi.” The stories and history of his people instilled utter terror into all Naru of the invincible beings only the Boloi could face down.

  Ayana, too, trembled under Odon’s arms, so he gripped her tighter to calm her.

  “Now,” The Inja said. “I will not ask again.”

  Latai stuttered but managed to get the words out. “Odon, bring Ayana and come to me.”

  Cautiously, without any sudden movements, Odon pulled Ayana along, and they descended the side of the wagon to join their mother. As he went Odon pushed the amulet that was his legacy into the inside band of the sash that strapped his rob closed.

  “Go see if they have anything of value,” the first Inja said to the other two.

  While he kept a wary eye on Odon’s family, the other two climbed into the wagon, and the noise of them rummaging around started. From the sounds of it, their cupboards were thrown open, drawers pulled out and dumped on the floor, and plates of fired clay broken as the Inja inside swept everything aside as they searched.

  Odon had no idea what they might be looking for, especially with an Asagi nearby, which they seemed to serve.

  He could barely form the thoughts, everything was happening so fast.

  He could barely keep his mind from boiling out of control with all the ways he might be able to do something.

  The Inja who had looked at Latai with such evil desire came back out of the wagon first. Hopping down without using the narrow stairs, he efficiently carried his own weight and that of his armor.

  He was a strong man.

  “Find anything?” the first Inja asked.

  “Sure, a few trinkets, some jade coins. He’s gathering them up.” The Inja hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the inside of the wagon, where the sounds of rummaging had slowed down.

  “Now I want to get me some of this.” He reached out and grabbed Latai by the upper arm, pulling her viciously closer. The yellow robe she wore pulled up and across, opening the front disrespectfully.

  He almost knocked Odon and Ayana down when he pulled Latai into his embrace, and his head bent to press his mouth against hers. Odon could see tears leaking from his mother’s eyes, and she grimaced to keep her mouth tightly closed.

  This was truly awful behavior. Odon could not believe that even the Inja, who still came from Naru family roots, would be capable of this. When he looked at the first Inja, though, and saw the man’s sly smile, he felt his hopes fade into nothing.

  His mother was pulled back out of the embrace but not released.

  The Inja slowly stroked his hands inside her robe through the front and moved them under the cloth. His mother grimaced, her body stiff at the shame of his groping, a twinge went across her features when his hand closed hard where Odon could not see what he had done.

  “Ah, so you want to play it hard, then, do you?” he purred. “Well, that’s all right. I don’t need you to like it.

  With those words, his hands flicked to grab and tear Latai’s top open. The sight brought a chuckle to both Inja. In a quick motion, he shifted her around, one arm around her waist and the other around her throat.

  “Now, don’t struggle. You can see my leader over there, you know, the Asagi who can kill all of you with a thought.”

  Latai seemed to go limp, the fight in her subdued by the flaming being and a quick look at her vulnerable children. Despite every disrespectful horror, the presence of the Asagi gave these men a power over them that could not be denied.

  “That’s better.” The Inja pawed at her, stroking and grabbing at her in a way Odon thought only an animal could.

  With that, Odon also realized that he had concluded sometime back that these were not men, less than Naru, of course, but now even less than humans. He had been raised with the morals and ethics to recognize the shared life in all things, that animals would be killed for food and not for sport and that trees were cut only when necessary.

  The Naru lived in harmony with the land and one another.

  That had never meant the Naru were so pacifistic that they would not defend themselves.

  The Quo had fought before, and the Boloi did fight as Naru. Odon could only think that, right now, these men were enemies. The awful sight of this dog warrior tearing a wide slit into his mother’s robe with his flint knife, while holding her almost bent over at the waist beat inside his skull.

  His blood started surging through his veins.

  His worry of the all-powerful Asagi blew away like the ashes all around them.

  The Inja fumbled at his crotch, the leather lacing there coming undone with difficulty since he had to use one hand. Latai’s eyes were closed, her arms folded over her chest, the effort of not screaming or fighting back trembling through her body.

  Odon knew his mother.

  She was strong, competent, and she loved him and his sister completely.

  Odon understood that she was accepting this, would endure this dog warrior’s rape, to protect her children. Odon was in awe at the kind of woman his mother was at the same time his entire being needed to stop this from happening.

  He drew on his spirit, and his magic responded, the same magic he used in the play but this time reworked in his anger.

  Air itself is formed of tiny particles so small that they have a lower density than any matter considered substantial. The bonds of air are weak enough that these particles, when kept in their natural state, are entirely free to flow as they wish.

  Wind, movement by any kind of pressure, brings the air particles closer together. The particles are then forced closer, and their bonds strengthen, creating a density much higher. The more powerful the wind, the stronger the force.

  A roaring cyclone, for example, is enough air moving at enough speed to form a barrier of particles so dense it can lift houses. The extra air required is sucked in from all around itself. This creates the inwards wind one feels roaring into a cyclone.

  Odon did not push air or condense it into his bolt of force that he used to break the stone in the play.

  However, the concept was very similar.

  In a raw form, there is a pure force in everything, whether it be gravity or motion or forces of attraction or repulsion. The fundamental physics of living requires
pressure to move blood around in the body.

  Nevertheless, magic, magic was an altogether other kind of powerful force. When harnessed and converted, it could be made into all sorts of effects, an arcane alchemy changed through spells and mental effort, for example, to create fire.

  Odon did not have any of that kind of training.

  His latent talent could do all the physical things that his father had taught him, and his spirit was large. Instinctively, though, Odon had learned to condense what could be called the particles of magic into raw force.

  With some help from the parts of his legacy he did not know about, Odon’s magic had evolved past the usual Naru standards.

  Fueled by his outrage, his emotional need to protect his mother, Odon drew every ounce of strength he had from within himself.

  It was wasteful, and much of it leaked out invisibly, but the potential of what he could do was about to be evidenced for any who could see his future. However wasteful, it was more than enough when gathered into a transparent sphere, only visible out of the corner of one’s eye.

  Amassed energy coalesced as Odon threw his arm forward, and the condensed ball of force flew faster than an arrow.

  With his will directing it, the magical entity curved past his mother to slam into the chest of the dog warrior. A backlash of the energy directed by Odon, without his conscious thought, shoved his mother out of the Inja’s grip.

  At which point, it was the end of this particular man’s life.

  Lifted from his feet, thrown backwards through the air, it was as if he met the resistance of a cliff at his back. The power of the magic did not work with physics, had no care that he should not have been stopped but instead sent flying out over the arid lands.

  His chest caved in with the wrenching sound of snapping bones in his ribcage. Internal organs turned to only so much mush before being minced apart by the shattered vertebrae of his spine.

  From the middle outwards, the dog warrior was squashed into a pulp, that landed wetly onto the sand.

  It took a second or two for everyone to recover from their surprise. Latai stood shaking and staring at her son in awe, while Odon slumped in exhaustion. The other Inja looked at the exhausted Odon and grabbed Ayana.

  At his sister’s cry, Odon pulled himself upright and spun around.

  “Ah, now, let’s not be doing anything stupid, young man.” No grin, no sly smile.

  Now the dog warrior was deadly serious, with a sharp stone knife at Ayana’s throat.

  “What, by the three moons, was that?” The other Inja had rushed out of the wagon and jumped down beside Latai. His face paled when he looked over at the remains of his comrade, but the harsh voice of the first Inja brought him back to his senses.

  “Grab the woman.”

  The other Inja did, and Latai got manhandled into submission again.

  The first Inja looked at Odon, noting the sweat on his brow and how heavily he was breathing.

  “That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it, boy?” He thought for a moment, and his eyes sparkled with an idea.

  “I like you, boy. You have fire. Why don’t you join us?” He asked the question with absolute sincerity.

  “I’m sure the Asagi will welcome you.”

  Despite the weight of his limbs, Odon’s mind was still clear. There was never any way he was going to lower himself to being like these Inja. The name was not even accurate. They could not be dog warriors since they were less than animals.

  He did not have to say anything. The dog warrior could see his response in his eyes where the hatred shone.

  “Ah, well, that’s too bad, boy, because, you see, we need a life for a life here.” He pointed at the broken bones and meat that had been the other Inja.

  “That man was one of ours. So, either you become one of ours, or we exchange his life with one of yours.” He smiled viciously.

  “And I’m not going to take you, young man. I’m going to give you a choice.”

  Odon started to feel a pit growing in his stomach, a dark feeling sweeping over him. But this time, he didn’t have the strength left to do anything.

  The Inja lifted his head in an upwards gesture to the other, who let go of Latai. She stumbled a bit and would have run forwards if the dog warrior had not lifted a warning hand. He then pushed Ayana ahead of him. Holding onto her shoulder, he kept her from going any further as well.

  It was with a deadly serious look that he gave Odon his choice.

  “One of them must die. From boy to man, you have grown, but not I think, into what a man really is. Men make hard choices. Boys lash out in temper tantrums.”

  “So, choose, boy. Choose who will die.”

  Odon stood trembling, overwhelmed by the impossible situation.

  Ayana looked from him to their mother, scared, crying, barely understanding what was going on but in her innocence believing that he could do something to save them. She had seen him fight back already, and he felt so stupid that he had not been smarter at it.

  He had nothing left to offer.

  Latai called his gaze over with her own eyes.

  Hers were brown pools of love and understanding, filled with pride that made his stomach even heavier. Odon could barely keep from breaking down into tears himself.

  “Are you ready, boy? Here is your time to choose.”

  With that, the two Inja let go of Ayana and Latai, but Latai did not move.

  She just stood there, tall and confident. Odon could not shake the sight of her, so he looked over at his precious sister. As soon as their eyes made contact, she ran over and into his outstretched arms.

  Instinctively, he tried to protect her.

  Even though he knew what had happened, Odon felt deep despair as the Inja said calmly.

  “That is your choice made, then.”

  The last words that Latai spoke to her children were: “I love you.”

  The dog warrior behind her stabbed his stone-tipped spear up into her back.

  It was a vicious but strong thrust that pushed the gray tip, stained with her blood, out of the front of her chest. Redness flooded down her chest, staining the paler skin and the robe that usually covered her modesty. With a twist, he pulled it back out with a sucking sound and another cry of pain from their mother.

  She sank to her knees as Odon watched in horror, keeping Ayana’s face pulled in close to his chest so that she could not see.

  More blood spilled out; down over robe and legs, her arms went weak as the life quickly drained out of her. She slumped down with blank eyes, staring at Odon without the love that had filled them before, and then fell flat to the ground.

  He stared at the fallen corpse that had been his mother only moments ago, tears streaming down his cheeks even as he tried to comfort his sister. He did not notice or care about the Inja, who laughed maliciously and left to join the rest of their group.

  Sacks of valuables and all sorts of precious items looted from the caravan jingled as they departed.

  Eventually, her blood slowed from the larger wound in her back. The ground turned muddy with it, the wild grasses glistened black and small insects struggled to swim in the pool. Odon stared at it until long after it had stopped running.

  Deep down within his absolute core, the very center of his being, Odon started his obsession to keep Ayana safe above all else.

  Excerpt from “Abductees” the first book of the Gravitonics Chronicles.

  What do a paraplegic construction worker, a beautiful socialite, a stay at home recluse, a beggar from the streets and a United Nations refugee officer have in common?

  Only the mysterious starship which abducted them could say.

  Five strangers awaken on a ship over a billion light years from Earth, with no memory of how they got there. Even more mysterious, they have all been given new bodies in peak physical shape and skintight singlesuits equipped with inhumanly advanced technology.

  They quickly discover that they have been brought to a place called the Puzzle B
ox, the once-great mining jewel of an interstellar empire but now a shell of its former self. The cores of the nearby planetoids have nearly been mined out, and currently, the Puzzle Box holds only scavengers and a skeleton security force—as well as a growing population of alien refugees fleeing a devastating enemy known only as the Tempest.

  As the five abductees struggle to find out who, or what brought them there and why, they must deal with the criminals who want to plunder their technology and the indifferent security forces focused on the growing refugee problem. And all the while, the Tempest draws nearer—and an ancient enemy grows quietly in the very heart of the Puzzle Box itself…

  *

  Marc’s mind was a flurry of activity as he mentally plowed through the available software in his head.

  Amber alerts had begun flashing in the periphery of his vision, something about “Gravitonics Detected,” but he ignored that through the hot dagger already stabbing through his head from all the knowledge about the software he had lit up.

  Through the various icons and displays he was manipulating, he saw the Lanillans raising their weapons to point at Meriam’s back.

  The bastards! Was the only thought he had before Meriam was outlined in coruscating light as both weapons discharged.

  The force and energy field integrated into her singlesuit, which wove the incoming energy along pre-designed patterns of diffusion currents and back out again off the surface of the suit. The science and engineering around superconductors, magnetic flow manipulation and other reasons why the shielding worked would have given him a migraine, so he ignored it and focused on the software.

  The energy discharge of the weapons didn’t even ruffle her hair.

  As it dissipated, she was still standing with an aurora of light beaming out around her like the goddess many men on Earth would have charismatically claimed her to be.

  Then Connor and Lekiso came into Marc’s point of view. On the move, they took quick steps to either side of Meriam and engaged the Lanillans at close range.

  Connor’s target managed to fire his weapon again, sending a nimbus of energy waving behind the awesomely large man as his energy field absorbed and digested the bolt. Connor drove his right fist into the abdomen of the Lanillan.