The Survivors | Book 15 | New Beginning

by Hystad, Nathan

  I held my breath as the screens went dark. Black. A gentle blue appeared, forming a circle.

  “What does that mean?” Slate asked her.

  “No. It means no.”

  My heart sank. Slate fidgeted with his gun, shifting his stance.

  The blue circle vanished as Welka asked one last question. “What is your command?”

  I peered at the old man and watched as he touched his cane’s handle.

  The screen blinked with yellow symbols, and Welka turned to stare at us, sadness in her pink eyes.

  “What did it say?” Slate asked.

  “Kill them.”

  ____________

  “Are you certain no signals are going across?” Dean asked, bending over Doctor Yeera’s shoulder.

  “They’re built to relay through anything, but the combination of the low atmospheric pressure, mixed with the harsh coldness, not to mention the cloud cover and unprecedented snowfall, and…”

  “We can’t reach Sarlun or the capital.” Jules slunk into her seat, releasing the breath she’d been holding. “I guess we stay put until tomorrow.”

  Yeera’s desk had multiple monitors, and she pointed to the top right one, where an image of the projected weather radar showed a lingering storm. “Best guess is we won’t have communication for at least forty-eight hours, and even if we did, it wouldn’t be safe to fly anything in or out of the region for a while longer. My camp has twice been completely buried in snow, and it takes the drones a few days to brush and melt it off before I can even get outside. Sorry, you two. You’re stuck with me for the next while.”

  “This isn’t so bad.” Dean spun in his swivel chair. Her lab was cozy, with a table in the center and a room off to the side with jars full of samples of ice, water, and local vegetation that was somehow hardy enough to survive the bitter climate, stacked among data of her favorite creatures, the Catoleels.

  “You’re out here all alone?” Jules didn’t want to pry, but they’d been with Yeera for five hours and hadn’t asked her anything personal yet.

  “Two years now. Well, I had an assistant for the first year, but he couldn’t handle the work. He’s gone.” She wore a white lab coat with a navy jumpsuit underneath. Jules wondered if she could be alone for stretches of time or not. She’d done so occasionally on her adventures, but months of isolation were another story. She’d miss the normalcy of talking to people on a regular basis.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Dean said.

  Jules shot him a smirk. “Because you’d miss me too much?”

  “That’s one reason. But the loneliness. The cold weather, the dark camp. Nothing but the light of your desk screens to comfort you during a storm…” Dean glanced at Yeera, and Jules saw something new in the doctor’s face. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that I couldn’t handle it. My dad said I was too extroverted. Always like to be in the middle of things. He did add that solitude could be good for the soul, and everyone should experience it at some level occasionally.”

  “Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

  “He was…”

  Doctor Yeera’s snout twitched as she picked up his meaning. “I’m sorry. You’re too young for such pain.”

  Dean clapped his hands together, standing up. “Enough about me. Can you show us what you’ve been working on?”

  “Maybe later. How about we make something to eat? Like you said, I’ve been alone for a long time. I’d love to talk about what’s happening out there.” Yeera pointed to the ceiling. “You can remind me that there’s more to the universe than snow and a sea creature on Shimmal.”

  Jules thought her dismissal of her work might have been a little quick, but they would have time over the next couple of days to discuss her studies. She wondered how Papa was faring, and if they’d discovered any important information about Slate’s condition yet. She really wished that she could have joined them, but also felt it was important for the pair to spend some time together. Back in the day, Slate and her dad had been inseparable, but as time went on, with Papa and Mom getting married, and having Jules, then Hugo, it had become harder on Slate.

  He’d eventually found Loweck, breaking her from a terrible prison, and her uncle had found some well-deserved happiness. But with Papa retiring from Light, and Slate lined up to replace him, they’d see each other even less.

  It felt oddly similar to her dad and Magnus traipsing around Europe, infiltrating Frasier’s group of dissenters. She was so glad Dean’s dad and Papa had been able to spend that time together on one last mission.

  This would be different. Uncle Zeke and her dad would find a cure, and they’d have plenty of opportunities to go on crazy adventures. Wouldn’t they?

  “Ju, you coming?” Dean asked from the lab’s exit. She stared at the radar, seeing the swirling clouds over their region of the ice-cold continent.

  “You bet.” She followed him out, heading for the kitchen across the Sub-Base.

  Fourteen

  Slate’s rifle rose instantly, and he moved toward Welka and me. My gun remained clipped to my suit, and I raised my hands. “No one needs to die. I know what’s happening.”

  “You do?” Slate asked.

  “Welka, can you ask Ulivon to come here, please?” I stayed calm, despite the fact that two hundred of the hooded Grinlo stood in unison, chanting menacingly.

  She spoke over the crowd, but the old man refused to join us. The people began leaving their seats, walking toward the stage, and Slate nervously shifted his aim, unsure what to do. “Boss, I’m going to take your lead. You good with that?”

  I only had one idea, and I required Ulivon to accomplish it. I walked slowly, moving for the elderly man, but Welka stepped between us. “The Celestial has spoken, stranger.” From nowhere, a long blade emerged in her hand. The cloaks. I saw the glint of sharp steel appear from every single Grinlo in the room, their melodic mantra rising and falling in pitch. I didn’t have much time before they sacrificed us: not to quench a celestial god’s thirst for blood, but a sick old man’s.

  “Slate, now!” I said, and he shoved Welka aside, somehow reading my mind. I darted for Ulivon, who slashed at me with his blade. I ducked, kicking his cane out, and he dropped to the ground. I picked it up, feeling the heft in my grip. I used it to block the swipe of a knife, then another.

  I leapt past the fallen, wrinkled elder and jumped onto the stage. Slate fired his gun at the ground, creating a gap between him and Welka, and he joined me, bounding the short distance up to the platform. “Now what?” he asked, and I flipped the cane in my hand, finding the controls near the knotted carved handle.

  “Welka, your people have been deceived!” I shouted, hoping they heard me over the raucous shouting and chanting. My small advantage was the fact that none of the Grinlo seemed willing to step onto the stage with us.

  “You come to our home, harm Ulivon, and refuse to adhere to the Celestial’s wishes? There is no way out, stranger.” Her kind face contorted with fury, and I couldn’t even blame her. She thought she was right, but they were worshiping a drone ship. They’d all but forgotten their true history.

  I shook my head. “You’re wrong. It was Ulivon who has betrayed his people.” I touched the controls on the cane, and the lights on the screens went green. There were three buttons, each on a slider. I pressed two together and slid the third, making the colors shift to purple dots. “He controlled it from this.” I held the cane out, letting Welka see. “He made you think it spoke from the heavens, but it was him, selfishly controlling you as well as the screens. This ship is from a distant world, I grant you that, and we’ve come seeking it. Ulivon lied to you, not to us.”

  The room went deadly silent, with only a few people chanting and all eyes focused on Ulivon, who was slowly scrambling to his feet. A large Grinlo approached him with his arms stretched out, and the old man swiped at the newcomer with his sharp blade. Welka went to assist, grabbing the wisp of a man’s arms, pinning them behind him. His knife fell to the flo
or with a loud clatter, and he was escorted from the room. Many of the locals flipped their hoods off, looking at one another for direction. I’d just broken their faith, and they all seemed lost.

  “Welka, you’re their leader. There’s a whole world above. Your people can rebuild. We’ll return with ways to grow food in this desperate landscape, and you can protect yourselves from the Quall. There’s no need to continue hiding from the Quall. And this”—I pointed at the ship—“was nothing but a distraction, a means for Ulivon to keep you contained and in control.”

  “I fear he did this to shield us from violence but grew mad somewhere along the way,” she whispered, stepping onto the stage. The others relaxed as she did this. The action would have been prohibited a few minutes ago, but already she seemed comfortable on the stage, near the craft she used to revere.

  “Then forge your own path,” I said. “Are we safe now?”

  Slate maintained his aim at the crowd, as if some over-anxious zealot would avenge Ulivon. Welka said a few words to the lingering Grinlo, and they began to depart, unclear about what their future held. My partner finally lowered his weapon but kept his finger on the trigger.

  “You are safe, strangers. Are you certain the ship is not connected to the one we know as Celestial?” Welka’s eyes were wide, her voice slightly desperate.

  “I’m positive.”

  The door closed, and the entire amphitheater was empty except for the three of us. I was tired and hungry, but we had a mission to accomplish before we could leave.

  Slate was already at the ship’s edge, searching for an entrance. “How did you move the ship to the auditorium?”

  Welka shrugged. “Ulivon did it. Celestial vanished from its original obscured position, and he brought it to this spot.” She pointed up, at the dirt-enveloped dome high above. “It lowered through there.”

  “Slate, I think the drone has the ability to move through objects. Maybe a high-vibration feature?” I walked over to it, setting a hand on the hull.

  Slate did the same, and the lights pulsed as he touched its exterior. “Looks like it knows me.” He grinned despite the connotations of their relationship.

  Legs protruded from the outer edges, pushing the entire squat craft ten feet high in the air. A hatch released from the underside, and it hissed air as a ramp lowered to the stage. “I guess we found our way in,” I whispered.

  Welka gulped a breath, staying close behind me as we walked under the alien drone.

  ____________

  Jules couldn’t stay asleep. No matter how hard she tried, the constant screeching wind against the lab building kept her awake. She rolled from side to side, buried her face in a pillow, and even tried meditating to relax. Nothing worked.

  She swung her feet off the cot, slapping her soles on the cool floor. Everything was cold, even in the warmth of the camp. The air inside was almost comfortable, but anywhere near the walls and the floor gave her chills. She wondered how anyone could stand to live like this.

  Dean could sleep through anything, and there he was, soundly snoozing. She watched him, seeing his lips slowly moving as he dreamt. She hoped his dreams were filled with images of her.

  She had no idea what time it was, so she headed to the lab, wanting to see a camera shot of outside. Maybe the sun was rising. That might help improve her mood. Doctor Yeera’s room was located on the far end of the lab, and Jules was careful to stay quiet as she maneuvered past the desk with the monitors on it. They gave off a pittance of light, allowing her to see, but not enough to keep her from stubbing a toe or tripping on something.

  Jules made it unscathed and peered at the doorway leading to the doctor’s sleeping quarters. It was fully closed. She sat at the chair, finding it the proper height for her. She was slightly taller than Yeera, but not by much. It saved her from making noise adjusting it.

  The screens were in sleep mode, something Jules wasn’t able to find tonight. Her head felt much better after the shot and salve the doctor had administered. Even Dean’s ankle was less swollen. He was able to walk around on it for a few minutes before he needed to rest.

  She tapped the keypad, finding it password protected. Why would someone set a password when they were in Sub-Base Eleven alone? Jules searched for a way to circumvent it, but the action brought a notification, complete with a noisy beeping sound. Jules was about to stand up to leave when she saw a communication report appear on one of the monitors.

  “What are you doing?” Yeera asked abruptly from her quarters.

  Jules’ heart jumped inside her chest, and she pushed away from the desk. “Nothing. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Move from my desk. I don’t need a sticky-handed child messing with my reports. The information I’ve gathered is imperative for my studies. Without the reports, there is no funding, and without funding, I have to return to my home city. Nobody can make me go back.” Yeera’s dark eyes seethed in the pale light, her snout stiff, indicating how upset she was.

  “I’m sorry. I only wanted to see the radar.” This was very different from the woman that had coddled them earlier, fed and clothed them, helped with their injuries, and provided a place to sleep. She was right to be angry with Jules. She’d broken her trust by sneaking around in the middle of the night.

  “Who sent you?” Yeera asked, stepping closer.

  Jules was on her feet, walking backwards. “No one. We came…”

  “For a Gatekeepers’ mission. I heard that part.” Yeera seemed strong, and Jules hated how weak she felt compared to the doctor. Without her powers… She pushed away the thoughts.

  “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was telling the truth.” Jules kept moving from her, and Yeera stopped, her face melting into a soft smile.

  “It’s okay. I’m the one who should be apologizing. You startled me, and I’m not used to having anyone around my lab. I’ve always been a bit of a loner.”

  “Tell me about your assistant,” Jules said, hoping the change of subject would further disarm the woman.

  “He was a good man but with too narrow a viewpoint. I was once told that mastering one subject built a brick wall around you, not letting you see anything but the small world you’ve created. Don’t ever be like that, Jules. Explore everything.” Yeera touched the chair, returning it to the desk. “It’s only an hour before I normally rise. Would you like to see what I do? I have to make a trip to their breeding ground.”

  “In the storm?” Jules asked.

  “The snow is unpredictable, but we’ll be fine, believe me. The Catoleels are living their lives, and it’s my job to record them. My camera battery pack in their nest is drained, and I need to replace it,” she said.

  Jules felt alert, ready for the day, and she nodded. “Let me wake Dean.”

  “No. He should sleep. He’s injured and could use the rest. Leave a note.” Yeera was already departing the room, and Jules smiled, hurrying to the corner of the camp where their cots were positioned. She did just that, scratching a messy page and dropping it on her pillow. Dean wouldn’t miss it. He was still sleeping so soundly, it made her a little jealous. But then, if she had been able to rest, she’d miss the opportunity to see the Catoleels with the doctor.

  A few minutes passed, and she’d managed to comb her thick curly hair and throw on her parka over the uniform she wore with pride. Yeera met her in the bay with the Snow-Tracker, with two insulated cups. “I assume you like coffee? Seems like every human I’ve met does. I’ve even taken a liking to it myself.”

  Jules smirked, grasping the offered cup. She sipped the brew, and it tasted like it had been oven roasted and made too weak, but she was grateful for the jolt of caffeine. “Thank you.”

  The pair climbed into the Tracker, and they were off. The bay door opened, sending snow tumbling inside. Yeera hadn’t been kidding. The snow was five feet high now, and the pointed nose of their vehicle barreled through it.

  “When will the drones start their cleanup?” Jules asked from behind t
he woman. It was far more comfortable in the seat without cramming beside someone else.

  “As soon as the storm slows. Probably another day.” Yeera was cheerful now, and Jules drank more of her beverage. “Their nest is nearby. It’s the main reason we chose this location as our camp setting. It’s far enough that we don’t disturb their habitat, yet accessible that I could walk there if the weather was any more forgiving.”

  She was right. They pushed through deep snow, the windshield giving them a 3D image of what lay ahead with its impressive technology. The drive only took five minutes, and Yeera slowed. “You’re going to want to keep these on.” She passed Jules a pair of advanced goggles. “They have night vision, and thermal readings for the Catoleels as well as for weak spots on the ice.”

  Jules paused. “We’re on the ice?”

  “Most of this continent is an iceberg. What did you think we were sitting on?”

  “I…” Jules only knew that the continent was cold and snow-covered, not that it was ice. Ice could melt. Ice could move. She didn’t like this one bit, but she closed her eyes, trying not to let it bother her. Papa wouldn’t be scared; neither would Mom, or any of their friends. “I can’t wait to see them.” Jules didn’t know what a Catoleel looked like, but since they were sea and land dwellers, she pictured some version of an alien penguin in her mind.

  They went outside, and Jules instantly felt the cold bite at her. She tightened her parka’s hood and followed directly behind Doctor Yeera, using her footprints in the snow to guide her path. There was less of it on the ground in this region, and she glanced to her right to see a hill of ice blocking the gusty wind. It had an opening in the base, a fissure the size of a semi-trailer. The ground was packed solid as they neared the entrance. Hundreds of paw prints littered the area and were slowly being replaced by the blowing snow.

  Jules tapped the goggles, and the thermal readout began. Yeera appeared as a red outline, and she peered toward the fissure, finding dozens of smaller figures inside. She was excited to see them and finally understood why Yeera would want to do this for a living. She was trying to help a race of animals survive the harsh and changing climate. It was admirable.