Voices of the Lost

by C. S. Harte

  “By order of Archon Janiya, Seventeenth Ruler of House Taumate, we demand you admit us,” barked a soldier from outside.

  “Hurry,” Samara helped Dren to his feet. “Follow Anjali.” She walked him over to Anjali. “Take them to the portal room. If I am unable to meet you, get them to Latta Lagi.”

  “Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Alyana asked.

  “I will delay the soldiers.”

  “But there’s no resistance without you!”

  “You are capable of greatness yourself.” She nudged Alyana by pressing against the small of her back. “I am a Voice. They will not dare harm me. Now, go!”

  Time moved strangely around Dren, clinging for one moment too long, then stuttering to catch up. Both his mind and body felt depleted, like waking from a restless sleep and feeling neither refreshed nor recharged. “The ship’s logs… We need to learn more about Atua Leaga. Why was there such a strong resemblance to Jonas with Captain Fausmus?”

  “Dren…” Alyana pulled him forward. “We can’t find the answers to any of this if we’re inside a Chordan prison.”

  “Alyana Harrows is correct,” Anjali said. “The quality of your life will suffer should they capture you.” He reached inside his pouch and removed the pailate. It slowly illuminated as it floated to chest level. “Come, come. Rheno Rhenasa is an old city, with the new built on top of the past. Many of these forgotten passageways still exist.”

  Dren drifted between Anjali’s words and those of RAI-17. Both seemed important, but only one voice drew him to it. “RAI-17… She could trap the alien inside the zero-point module… I think.”

  “Aorgarian ships have bio-neural-kinetic electronic architecture,” Anjali said. “Perhaps that is why it could move through the Valenaria so easily.” They reached a four-way intersection. The pailate paused for a moment before continuing forward. “This way. We must continue our haste!” He followed his device.

  “Atua Leaga…” Dren slapped himself, trying to wake from his stupor. “Straight for the power source… And escaped somehow… Have to find the Valenaria… Our only hope to stop it…”

  “Or if we can duplicate the zero-point module and containment technology…” Anjali stopped in the middle of his thought.

  “Keep moving you two!” Alyana placed her hands on both their backs and shoved them forward. “Why is there so much talking when we’re supposed to be running for our lives!”

  The tunnel narrowed as they advanced, forcing them into single file lines. Alabaster walls gave way to dark blue bricks.

  Dren noticed his breath misting.

  “Why did it get so cold suddenly?” Alyana put on her helmet and helped Dren into his.

  “We are under the lake surrounding the city,” Anjali said. “The Anchor room is not far.”

  “RAI-17 mentioned the universe where Atua Leaga was from was twice as old as their universe,” Dren said. “Does that make Atua Leaga the oldest known life form?”

  “Possibly,” Anjali answered. “Quite possibly.”

  “You guys weren’t kidding about the ancient part of the ancient evil.” Alyana grinned.

  They reached a terminus in the tunnel, a 20 by 20-meter room.

  “We are here.” Anjali pointed upward at the ceiling. “The Anchor room is above us.”

  “Is the ceiling an illusion?” Dren asked.

  “No,” he shook his head. “One of these stones will reveal the entrance.”

  “For a futuristic city, there sure is a lot of primitive technology,” Alyana smirked.

  “Indeed,” Anjali began methodically tapping on the bricks starting from the topmost one to his left. “In some cases, newer technology is not always preferred.”

  “We’re lucky to have someone like you, Anjali,” Alyana said with a smile. “Someone with knowledge of so many different alien cultures.”

  “No, it is I who is honored by your presence here.” He bowed. “Already, you have cleared many misconceptions of your species. But let us save this discussion for another time.” He continued searching for the entrance.

  Dren leaned against a wall and slid to the ground. His eyes refused to stay open. He checked his combat stims; only one left. Should I save it or use it now? There were thoughts in his head that felt like intruders. It concerned him that these thoughts could be trying to take over his mind.

  “Found it!” Alyana yelled when half her arm disappeared into the wall. A slab shifted behind them, revealing a staircase.

  “I will go first,” Anjali said. “In case guards are waiting.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” Alyana said.

  “I will call when it is clear.”

  After Anjali left, Alyana sauntered to Dren and kicked him in the shin. “Get up, soldier! What’s wrong with you? You’ve been extra broody since the mind walk.”

  Dren tilted his head up. The person staring down at him wasn’t Alyana, but the red-headed girl again. She had a pout on her face. “Who are you? I don’t remember seeing you on the Aorgarian ship.”

  Alyana twisted her head to look behind her. “Were you talking to me just now?”

  “Come, Dren Arvol and Alyana Harrows,” Anjali yelled from above.

  Alyana offered her hand, pulling Dren back on his feet.

  When Dren and Alyana entered the Anchor room, the portal was already charging. No signs of guards anywhere.

  “45 seconds until the portal fully forms,” Anjali said from behind the floating console.

  “Whatever’s happening to you,” Alyana said to Dren, “you need to get it fixed. We need you to be a marine…”

  “30 seconds,” Anjali updated.

  The portal tripled in size in a flash of light.

  Small metallic spheres dropped on the ground, clinking with each other as they bounced on the floor.

  Alyana’s eyes opened wide.

  Emerald green gases streamed out of the spheres.

  “Whispers…” Alyana uttered.

  Before she could finish her sentence, a red ribbon of light appeared behind her. The humming of torch blades sounded.

  Alyana tried to speak. Instead of words, only globs of crimson escaped her mouth. She teetered forward, falling into Dren’s arms.

  “No…” Dren breathed. He watched Alyana’s blood gush from her back and down his leg. Every cell in his body wanted to simultaneously scream; anger and grief fought a private war inside his mind, with the former winning, rapidly. He wanted time to freeze, or even better, travel backward. He squeezed her body, covering the gashes with his hands, trying desperately to push the blood back into her.

  Explosions rocked the room.

  The one nearest Anjali sent him crashing against the wall.

  Dren collapsed to the ground with Alyana on top of him. Bells rang inside his ear.

  The portal morphed in shape.

  Tentacles of energy formed, lashing out at everything and everyone in the room. Whatever object unlucky enough to contact the limb of light disappeared into the ether.

  Two black boots stopped in front of Dren. They belonged to a Whisper with one hand missing. Her helmet was off, revealing her face.

  “Commander Kara?” Dren’s jaw hinged open.

  Kara kept a blank face as she raised her blade over Dren. The flames on the sword seemed alive, waiting for its next prey. “You betrayed us, Dren. They expunged everyone in Phoenix Company because of you. The only thing worse than a war with aliens, according to Fleet, is a war with clones.”

  “No…” Guilt overtook anger. He was too late in helping his brothers. In his mind, he could hear Jann, Kingston, Wyrick, and Veillon calling to him from the Endless Void. Dren closed his eyes as the hum reached his neck. He felt the heat from the torch blade slowly searing his neck as his eyes rested on Alyana’s lifeless body. “Just do it…” he said, waiting for what felt like an eternity to join his squadmates.

  Suddenly, the humming went away replaced by clanking sounds as the torch blade collided with the floor. Lit
tle drips of scarlet spouted from Kara’s nose as her face contorted in pain.

  “Anjali, get Dren Arvol through the portal! Now!” Samara screamed.

  Anjali held his head for a moment before picking himself up. “Let us go, Dren Arvol,” he said as he uncurled Dren’s fingers from Alyana’s corpse.

  “Can you help her?” he pleaded. “Can you heal her?”

  He glanced at Alyana then shook his head. “Her life force has left her body,” Anjali said as he gently laid her body on the ground.

  The tentacles of light from the portal continued to whip in a frenzy.

  “It is safe?” Dren asked, reluctant to go inside the malfunctioning Anchor.

  “I do not know,” Anjali said. “Never have I seen an Anchor such as this.”

  “The guards are coming, we have no other path before us!” Samara yelled.

  Dren had one arm draped over Anjali and the other over Samara. Together they stepped into the turbulent portal, allowing it to absorb their bodies into the chaos.

  30

  Dren exited the portal last. A warning flashed on his HUD for a sudden temperature drop. 322 Kelvins. The average temperature of Antarctica during winter.

  “This is not Latta Lagi,” Samara said. “Where are we?”

  “No… The explosion in the portal room,” Anjali cried. “It altered the destination. I will make amends!” He ran to the Anchor console encased in thick, decaying vines.

  “How is it so cold here but no ice or frost?” Dren asked, scrutinizing the world painted in shades of melancholy with thick gray fog blanketing the sky. Giant dust motes clung to the air. The trio stood atop a stone platform. To the north, a set of crumbling stairs led down into a darkened, diseased jungle. To the east, a sky bridge connected them to an abandoned city devoid of lights in the distance.

  The onboard Tempest suit computer updated his HUD with an atmospheric reading.

  19.8% oxygen.

  80.2% nitrogen.

  The rest a mixture of argon, carbon dioxide, and other trace gasses. Breathable if it wasn’t so cold.

  “You are not well, Dren Arvol?” Samara asked, bending her knees to see into his visor.

  Dren dropped his gaze to his hands and lower body. The only example of red on the planet was the darkening crimson on his suit — Alyana’s blood. In his mind, he replayed the scene of Alyana dying, but instead of Alyana’s face, he saw the red-headed girl. “How did a Whisper make it through the portal without you knowing?”

  “Her mind was invisible to me,” Samara said. “Beyond that, I have no satisfactory answers for you.” She wrapped her fingers around his helmet. Her breath was visible in the cold air. “Your mind screams for help. I had not realized Alyana Harrows’ importance to you.”

  “I can’t explain why.” Dren kept a loose posture. “I only met her recently, but I feel like I’ve known her much longer.”

  “When I was a child, before I developed my telepathic abilities fully, I had a male friend of a similar age. I was a Voice; he was a member of a servant family. Because of the difference in class, our interactions were limited and infrequent. Our moments, were perhaps less so than your time spent with Alyana Harrows. Yet, it did not stop my heart from fluttering with happiness with each precious occasion together. It is the irrational nature of affection. Something, it would seem, that our two species share.”

  “I don’t know if I can say I loved her.” He sighed. “Not romantically, no. She was someone important. She helped me be more human, to understand more of human nature. I feel incomplete with her gone. Already, I am lost without her.”

  “Your level of grief is proportionate to your care for Alyana Harrows. Do not dwell on what cannot be changed. It is possible to look forward to the horizon while mourning what you have lost.”

  Anjali rejoined them. “Is Dren Arvol injured?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Dren said in a shaky voice.

  “Have you learned of our current whereabouts?” Samara asked.

  “I am sorry, Mistress. There is no response to the console. It appears to be intentionally sabotaged.”

  “But you can fix it, right?” Dren asked.

  “The repairs have been made.” Anjali curled his lips into a smug smile. “It will take time for the console to re-energize. I have connected my spark to aid in that process.”

  “How long will that take?” Dren glanced at the console.

  “I do not expect it to be long. In the meantime, we must wait.”

  Screeching sounds echoed in the distance.

  “What was that?” Dren turned toward the noise.

  “I’ve heard stories of a nightmare universe,” Samara said. “Where the physics are dramatically different and where we send the most vile. The Exiled. Is it possible for us to have arrived in such a place?”

  “Are you talking about criminals?” Dren asked. “Chordan criminals or some other alien species?”

  “Most are Chordan, yes,” Anjali said. “The ones touched by madness, those who cannot heed the laws of our Archon.”

  The screeching sounded again.

  “Was that one closer?” Dren faced the wailing. He unstrapped his rifle and removed the safety. His mini-map only showed the life signs of his own team.

  “We are not alone,” Samara said while clutching at her chest. “Something comes for us. A hunger.”

  “I will check on the status of the energy transfer,” Anjali said and ran off.

  “We should go with him,” Dren said. “It’s better to stick together.”

  Samara nodded.

  As they neared Anjali, a shadow grew behind him.

  “The transfer is almost complete…”

  Two sets of elongated, black claws planted themselves onto Anjali’s shoulders. Before anyone could react, the shadowy figure ripped him away from the console and down into the jungle depths without so much as a scream.

  Dren brought the scope of the rifle to his eye, searching for the creature that took Anjali. Decaying leaves twirled in the air, rustled by the shadow beast, the only movement visible. His Chordan friend disappeared with no trace into the void of night.

  “Anjali is still alive,” Samara said with her eyebrows drawn together. “I can sense his fear.”

  “Then let’s go after him,” Dren ran past Samara but stopped when he noticed she didn’t follow. “What’s wrong?”

  “The console is operational again,” Samara said. “I shall open a portal, and you may exit from this horrid planet.”

  “You’re going to leave him here?” Dren raised his voice. “You said he was still alive!”

  “I did.” She nodded

  “Then let’s save him!”

  “Dren Arvol, in your mind, you have the location of the Valenaria and with it, untold secrets of Atua Leaga. If you were to perish, then all hope of defeating this great evil will be lost. All we have accomplished will be in vain.”

  “So then you’re going to leave Anjali to fend for himself?” He flared his nostrils. “To die?”

  “I will not.” She tilted up her chin. “I will first ensure your safety then I shall endeavor to rescue him alone.”

  The old Dren might have been OK with this arrangement, he would only care about himself and his kind. But Anjali was a genuinely gracious, caring soul, and someone important to him. It didn’t matter that Anjali wasn’t a clone or that he wasn’t human. “Both you and Anjali are as critical to this fight as I am. It would be impossible for me to go after Atua Leaga without both of you.”

  Samara stared at him for a moment and nodded. “The creature has taken Anjali to the abandoned city.” She pointed east. “I can sense his presence there.”

  “Then that’s where we’re headed.” Dren gingerly stepped onto the sky bridge, unsure if its decrepit walkway could support his weight. There were no obvious piers or supporting columns holding up the structure. Carved into the stone flooring were concentric circle patterns though non-repeating and less dense than the Aorgarian language. “Se
ems sturdy. My suit tells me it’s 2.78 kilometers to the other side.”

  “We must make haste,” Samara said with an urgent tone. “I can sense the terror in his mind.”

  On both sides of the sky bridge, dozens of narrow rock structures jutted up from the jungle canopy. The tops of these stone formations brightened as Dren and Samara passed, casting an eerie glow against the low-lying clouds.

  “You’re very quiet,” Dren said.

  “I sense more life here.” Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for something. “The closer we near the city… The more eyes are upon us.”

  “Where?” Dren looked over his shoulder.

  “I am having difficulty… The cold…” She shivered. “It is affecting my concentration.”

  “But you can still sense Anjali? He’s still alive?”

  “Yes, his calls for help is the only clear voice in my head.”

  One-half-klick outside the city, the temperature dropped another five degrees.

  They reached a section where ash-colored mushrooms, the size of pillows lined the edges of the walkway. The underside of their caps glowed with a dull orange light as Dren and Samara advanced past them.

  “Something tells me this planet isn’t as dead as it seems,” Dren said.

  “No. I fear you are correct.”

  “Are we getting closer to Anjali?”

  “I believe so.” She bobbed her head.

  An abandoned garden greeted them at the end of the sky bridge. Vine covered tresses formed a short tunnel into the garden center.

  A third blue dot appeared on Dren’s mini-map. “I think Anjali is near.” He dropped to one knee while he surveyed the area for enemies.

  “He is somewhere nearby,” Samara said. “We must hurry to him and return to the portal.” She leaned forward, ready to run.

  “Wait!” Dren held out his arm. “This feels like a trap. Like we were led here. Can you sense the original creature that brought him here?”

  “No. Perhaps that is our first stroke of good fortune since we’ve arrived.”

  “Maybe… Let me take point.” Dren kept his finger on the trigger. “Give me a warning if you sense something approaching.”