Universal Code

by William Songy

  Debris from houses, trees, and trash littered the water and became obstacles and dangerous projectiles that possessed the potential to kill him if struck in the head or impaled at or near any of his main arteries. Debris bounced off of him and he was thankful that nothing had struck his head. The forward momentum of the water ceased and he was finally able to break the water’s surface for the first time. While gasping for air, Logan desperately surveyed his area. The water pushed him inland several hundred feet past the resort. Ayla and the rock formation were nowhere in sight. The top floors of the resort were visible and the structure looked to be intact. Despite the inland distance it had shoved him, the murky seawater was well over his head. Logan instantly knew that one of his greatest fears in life was about to become a reality.

  The water reversed its course and like a newly formed black hole, began sucking everything within its lethal grasp back out to sea. He could hear people screaming for help as they realized what was happening. But he couldn’t help himself, much less get to them and better their situation. Instinctively, Logan started to swim toward the structure of the resort hoping to find something, some kind of lifeline. The sea of death began to pick up momentum. There was no direction he could take even if he had on dive fins. He was not going to make it.

  To his left, a disoriented tiger shark surfaced in the dark water and slapped him with its tail then rolled over onto its side. The shark was over twelve feet long and swam erratically. A pointed piece of broken redwood lap siding was jammed in its gills and the one-time predator was distressed. Its blood could be seen on the black surface of the murky water. Logan wanted to get away before being bitten. He wasn’t sure if any of the impacts to his body had resulted in lacerations, but his chest and stomach were injured from the run-in on the beach. If the cuts were bleeding, he was unable to tell due to the lack of light and water clarity. Being washed out to sea while bleeding would only decrease any chance of living to see another day. It was certain that sharks would populate the area as lifeless animals and people would provide an easy meal for them. He didn’t want to be an easy meal for anything.

  The metal on his arm morphed into a three-foot-long hook with a sharp point on the tip. Logan wondered what threat was around him that he couldn’t see. It seemed as if whenever he was in immediate danger, the strange metal had a tendency to provide him with a means of assistance. He noticed an elongated object on the surface that was heading for him defying the natural pull of the water and was taking a course that would cross his line. The pace of the current continued to pick up. Exhaustion became a burden he would not be able to overcome much longer. His arms, back and legs burned. A throbbing pain filled his head, and he was still fighting to get air into his lungs. Logan had spent most of his life in the water and not once gave any consideration to dying in it. He had no idea that St. Lucia would be the one place in the world where he would encounter a tsunami. He wanted to think of Ayla one last time. He hoped that she was alright, that she would make it, and that someone would be there to help figure it all out.

  As Logan went under, the object that was chasing him down passed over the spot where the current had finally worn him down and was having its way. He blindly reached out with the hook secured to his right arm and tried to catch the piece of debris. He was rewarded with a small glimmer of hope when he felt the sharp tip dig deep into the passing object.

  Logan struggled to pull himself toward it. The lifeline that was supernaturally given to him was a large piece of driftwood nearly three feet wide, barkless, and smooth. The water was not ready to concede and grant him another chance at life. It tried again to pull the exhausted man below the surface to fill his lungs with more water to ensure death. But the stubborn fool resisted and fought desperately for life, pushing his face up for another breath before swinging an arm over the buoyant section of tree. He could never imagine such a degree of exhaustion and struggled to do something as trivial as getting his leg up onto the log. Logan kicked aimlessly…one, two, three times before finding something that offered stability, finding a remnant of a limb that was a little more than a nub. He needed to make a move quickly. If he climbed on too slow, the log would simply roll over and dump him back into the deadly waters. Motivated by desperation, using some reserve energy he didn’t know existed, Logan pulled on the hook while pushing with the one secure foot and slid up onto the massive section of driftwood. The log rocked briefly and then stabilized.

  Air pumped painfully in and out of the waterlogged lungs. Several minutes of fighting exhaustion and the need to breathe passed before Logan was able to fully assess the situation, but darkness was falling quickly as the sun had passed the horizon. He could make out the dark tree line and noted that the beach had gone black as there was no source of artificial lighting. There was no electricity.

  Logan estimated his position to be nearly a mile offshore. Debris littered the waters around him. He remembered the shark and considered the evening hours when they became more active and decided to get on top of the log. The direction the log had traveled to get to him was odd and defied logic. As the tidal surge was moving back to sea, taking him with it, the log had somehow gone against the current and toward him. Too many strange things had occurred in one day.

  The metal began to morph once again taking the shape of a double-edged dagger while continuing to loop around the wrist. He knew something was amiss and attempted to fight the exhaustion and pull his feet out of the water. Before he could get clear of the water, something grabbed his left ankle and jerked with enough force to pull him from the log.

  He felt two sets of hands on him. The water was dark and there was no visibility. The salt-water burned his eyes and he tried to keep them open to see his attacker. There were two humanoid shapes, one on each side. They had a firm hold and were taking him into deeper water. He swung the knife and saw the flash of electricity shoot through one of the creatures. It let go and darted away. As he swung around, he dug the blade into the arm of the second creature but decided not to pull it out. It became instantly paralyzed and blue-white light coursed through its body. He could see the familiar body shape from the earlier encounter at the reef. Logan’s need for oxygen demanded that he return to the surface.

  Behind him, two bright lights appeared in the water and seemed to be focused on them. Was it the light from the jetty…the same one that picked up the stalker, alien thing from the beach the previous night? The lights moved closer. Logan pulled the dagger from the creature and tried to make his way to the surface for air and away from the strange source of light before being taken. As he started upward, he saw and heard two bursts of orange-toned discharges by the unknown object. The creature that swam away first was closer to the moving ball of light and was struck in the chest area. With his limited vision, Logan watched as it exploded. The creature was reduced to bits and pieces that quickly began to disperse in the saltwater. The second creature was struck in the abdominal area and was cut into two pieces. In the darkness of the waters, the source of light disappeared.

  Logan wondered why it had killed the two alien creatures and spared him. Perhaps it thought he was going to drown and a dead man couldn’t tell anyone anything. He feared the possibility that the unknown vessel would make a second pass to get him. There was no way to know for certain if the source was friend or foe and if he didn’t get out of the water it would be irrelevant as he would be dead. He kicked desperately and was underwhelmed by the forward momentum despite heading to the surface. He was accustomed to wearing his thirty-eight-inch carbon fiber fins when in the water. It would be impossible to recall a time when he had been in the water without them. The remaining air in his burning lungs and the buoyancy of his body aided his exhausted aching arms and legs in getting to the surface, which seemed to take a lifetime. The cold water enveloped his body reducing his core temperature causing cramps and mild convulsions. Time seemed to stand still as he once again considered his death. Was this to be his fate? A vision crept into his dying min
d…of a blond woman who he did not recognize. What an odd thing, oxygen deprivation was causing him to hallucinate, he was surely running out of time. Was this to be a watery grave for him? Logan didn’t want to give in but felt as if every muscle in his body was beginning to work against him. He was simply a living, mortal being and not a god. He lacked the attributes of the superhuman.

  From the darkness came a light. Logan thought that perhaps the lack of oxygen was causing his mind to play tricks on him again. Or, was his life truly flashing before his eyes? The image grew larger and larger. The ghostly figure approached and floated in front of him and stared into his weary eyes. He forgot about the pain and wondered if she was there to escort his soul home. Somehow, he knew it was Sonia despite looking nothing like the ten-year-old girl that disappeared. Twenty years had passed since he last saw her, and now her spirit was before him. If he could speak, there would be a number of questions he would have. What happened to her? Why did she leave that night? Who had taken her and why? Would it take death to know the truth?

  His consciousness slipped away.

  Chapter 9

  “We have begun our descent to the city of Boros, Aigi. The schedule has been maintained and we will touch down at sixteen sentrum-oggend at the Baraza Zima headquarters,” the voice announced over the transport’s intercom system.

  Einar Akre leaned to his right and peered out of the virtual window to the circular building. There were no windows in the transport, but a series of high-definition cameras on the exterior of each private cabin fed a three-hundred- and sixty-degree live stream that was displayed on the interior. Had an unwitty traveler entered one of the cabins without knowledge of this they may believe that they were floating in a bubble through space. Sometimes Einar would tire of the walls being a full live stream of space and would reduce the setting to a five by five square on the exterior wall.

  The VEN Vanderly, the intergalactic transport that brought them to Aigi, was comprised of a thousand rooms, ten galleys, and services to pamper the weary traveler. The live feed was available in all the rooms on the Vanderly regardless of where they were according to the floor plan and stature of the guest. Einar had long since lost the novelty of floating through space in three-hundred and sixty degrees. As the Vanderly hovered in space, smaller transports were used to bring the travelers to various points of interest. Normally it would be at this point that Einar would be more tempted to utilize the technology as a first-timer or sightseer would. But he had been here many times before and did not find it to be visually stunning, or in any capacity, interesting.

  It was impossible to mistake the building for any other as it was designed to have three distinct seven-hundred-foot-long wings extending outward from the Grand Hall that encircled the dome-shaped Federation Chambers. The hallways housed the offices of each elected member of the various political factions and were designed with the very specific intentions of providing as much separation between the multi-ideological segments reducing the opportunity for too much interaction. Truth be told, it was the Huru delegation that needed to be separated. It was just the politically correct way for those who feared them to deflect their ire by putting the blame equally on everyone. It was the coward’s way as far as he was concerned.

  If Einar had a say in the matter, his nation, Viennin, would have attacked and dismantled the Tisht and Kurunians long before they were able to get organized and morph into the inter-galactic superpowers they now had become. Rumor was that the inaction was going to cost them in the near future. A new alliance they were calling the Kasadu was formed for the sake of challenging, or in his estimation, destroying the nations who still supported the Universal Code. Apathy on the part of the Alliance would be to the detriment of the once great nations of the Baraza Zima.

  He loathed even the thought of the Kasadu. If war was imminent, then he just wanted it to start yesterday as he hated the anticipation. Sitting around contemplating while waiting for something as imminent as war with the Kasadu was not in his makeup. The greatest bit of irony in the whole matter, and what irked him the most was that it was nations like Viennin that had traded in massive deficits for decades allowing the Tisht and Kurun immense expansion and growth. His government and its allies had willingly let the Tisht and Kurun take advantage of them for the sake of maintaining a friendship that, in truth, was one-sided. In many ways, they had encouraged and helped finance their greatest enemy. And now, it was time for the Viennians to pay for their good deeds with the death of billions.

  At the end of each wing, a designated circular-shaped landing and parking area for the transports were constructed and supposedly designated for each according to their modes of transportation. Each time Einar flew over, he scratched his head wondering what the designers were thinking. All the transports used by the nations of the Jamhuri were rectangular and not round like the flying saucers the Earth people fantasized about. The design resulted in a loss of functional space.

  The delegations of the Jamhuri, Kuna, and Huru had vastly different interests and political ideologies. This often led to heated, vociferous, and violent arguments with the potential to initiate war. To further ensure the safety of the members of the Universal Council, the three-hundred-thousand square foot meeting chamber was divided into three pie-shaped sections complete with walls of transparent impact-resistant panels that separated each group. While extremely violent acts had been avoided on a number of occasions at the Baraza Zima headquarters, the meetings were frequently adjourned abruptly.

  “This is a Viennin transport with people who speak the Viennin language, why does the pilot have to talk to us in Aigian? Why can’t he just say ‘we will touch down at midday at the Universal Council Headquarters’ or something like that? His proficiency in the local language does not impress me in the least,” Einar said speaking into the wireless device hanging off the collar of his uniform. “I hate these transports and these stupid meetings. All these overprivileged morons do is sit around in that big building and yell at each other. Nothing ever gets accomplished. It is a waste of resources,” Einar said raising his voice out of frustration.

  Over time it had become less and less common for members of SINSTER, an agency formed by the Viennin government to police the Universe for violations of the Universal Code, to attend the Council meetings since its members were reviled by all who opposed the Code. The current “emergency” meeting seemed rather suspicious to all after receiving the call to return. Especially since only two weeks had passed since the last series of fiery, accusation filled meetings before this one had ended. Even more unusual, between scheduled sessions, all matters were usually dealt with via electronic broadcast. But the Huru Federation insisted on the members returning to discuss what they referred to as a “matter of an extremely sensitive nature.” Due to the unusual request, Einar and a few select SINSTER members were assigned to attend. While he wouldn’t refuse the call to duty, he was none too happy about spending two weeks stuck on a transport that, despite the amenities, “chugged” its way through open space.

  “Sounds like someone is a little irritable today. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten yourself stuck on a security detail,” said Cyperien Lejon, Einar’s friend and equal at SINSTER.

  “Well, I didn’t exactly volunteer for it. The star this planet orbits is too dark at its best and makes everything look purple and red. Where is the green? Who wants to look at purple trees? The waterways look rotten, like bloody black holes. Of all the planets out there why was this butt ugly piece of rock chosen? Two weeks of floating around in this thing is enough and I’m two weeks away from getting back unless I get stuck here. Then, who knows. I’m ready to get this over with and head back. If it all goes south, I don’t want to be floating around out here. I hope that at least this turns up some information on Ulven and his hideout. The traitor needs to be found. Maybe he’ll be there, and I will have a companion for the ride home,” Einar said not withholding his irritation.

  “Remember, anything you can ge
t on Asger Ulven needs to be reported as soon as you can securely do so. But you are not to engage,” Cyperien stressed to him.

  “He’s probably still hiding out with the Yanuwaians…the coward. If I am fortunate enough to find him, letting him walk away just seems…unlikely,” Einar said with a defiant tone.

  “The Director ordered that we do not engage this time--,” Cyperien was cut off.

  “I didn’t suggest killing him, only arresting him,” Einar said.

  “Confronting him at this point…it would be highly unlikely that he would just lay down his weapons and go with you. I’m worried about the unintended consequences,” Cyperien said firmly hoping to prevent Einar from doing something stupid.

  “Aye, unintended consequences. Like the last time, we had him and we were told to stand down. How many have died since then? How many more are now enslaved because we did nothing? The man allied nations against Viennin…his homeland. He wanted to kill all of us.

  “Well, we’re almost there and I will need to escort the hyper-intellectuals to the chambers…I hate to listen to them cry like little children if we are late,” Einar grunted.

  There was a knock on the door of his suite. Einar gave a voice command and the metal pocket door slid open. A woman nearly his height wearing a grey pressed suit, which was standard for the Viennin delegation, with platinum blond hair in a tight bun on the back of her head stood expressionless in the opening. She stared at Einar waiting for a formal invitation to enter his quarters. Despite the stiff collar, dull uniform, and conservative makeup, her attractive qualities had not been squelched in the least. In fact, Einar believed that she would be just as pretty with no makeup on. He was taken back by her appearance and had not been prepared for the lady that was behind the door. Despite spending the last two weeks on the transport, he had yet to see her. He motioned for her to enter.