by N. I. Snow
Zaharak scouted out a group of five human soldiers patrolling an empty street. Smirking he removed his hat and ruffled the tuft of silver hair. He angled the hat back on his head. Then he loosened his muscles and put a disoriented look on his face. Adding a limp to his step and dragging his tail on the ground he stepped out from the alleyway he had been hiding in.
Keeping his head lowered, he limped towards the group looking to them like a wounded and confused soldier. The human soldiers raised their weapons toward him ready to fire if he showed any signs of aggression. Not that he would, at least not yet.
“Halt,” yelled one of the men, “Don't move!”
Zaharak understood their language, but he acted as though he couldn't, “Halt!” Another soldier yelled his finger resting on the trigger of his gun.
Zaharak feigned exhaustion and fell to his knees. The soldiers hurried forward, guns trained on him. With them closer he noted just how much taller than them he truly was. The tallest human in the group was maybe two meters; he was about two and half meters tall. They motioned for him to place his hands on his head. He complied. They searched his entire body for weapons finding only his plasma pistol. After searching him they cuffed his wrists in electric cuffs. It took two of them to lift him to his feet. Zaharak assisted them by using some of his own strength. One of the guards pushed Zaharak forward only to pierce his hand on one of the red spikes lining the Seeker's back. Zaharak's emotionless eyes never betrayed his amusement as he watched the man scream while holding his bloodying hand.
One of the soldiers helped the man bind his hand as the others led Zaharak to a dormant dropship. The rear panel had been opened to allow the soldiers to board the craft. They pushed Zaharak down on one of the bench seats that lined the interior of the craft. Zaharak quickly moved his tail out of the way as not to sit on it, startling the men. They eyed him warily as the last two soldiers boarded. The wounded man sat down on a bench in front of Zaharak and glared at the Seeker.
As two of the soldiers piloted the ship to take off, the man growled at Zaharak, “Where we are taking you I hope they dissect you piece by piece while you're still awake.”
For show, Zaharak put a confused look on his face as if trying to understand the human. The threat on the other hand had no effect on the Seeker; he had been through far worse. Another soldier came by and ripped off Zaharak's hat, placing it on his own head. The Seeker never moved.
“Nice hat. I think I'll keep it.”
The other soldier sitting beside them, their superior, spoke, “No you won't. When we get to the Q.D.I. you're going to give it to the agents.”
Reluctantly the soldier removed the hat remarking, “What are they going to pull off a hat? Secrets to defeating these things?”
“They might! Does it matter? The weapon, the hat, and the thing itself is to be handed over to them, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
The soldier threw the hat to his superior and sat down beside the wounded man. Now both of them glared at the Seeker. Zaharak leaned his head against the metal wall, taunting the soldiers with his exposed throat. The soldiers’ eyes darkened, they wanted to take that chance. The tension from the humans was so thick that Zaharak could cut it with the tip of his tail. He smiled inwardly; they were so easily intimidated, even when he was hiding his true nature. Had he not been playing the part of a prisoner, the emotionless features he normally wore would have caused the men to become even more frightened. Then again, they wouldn't even be alive.
“Tar lo küla,” Zaharak said in Tazalian, “Choto Pa'cho lahk hakra ek sluta etehki tar cho lahk mata Pa ahl zimo.” You are lucky. Normally I would have killed your entire patrol before you would have even known I was there.
Zaharak wasn't boasting so much as telling the truth.
Not that the humans understood him anyway. The man who had stolen his hat stood up and pointed his hand gun at Zaharak's exposed neck. “What was that? Did you just insult me?”
“Calm down, Ishan,” said the superior. “No doubt it’s wondering where we are taking it.”
The wounded man sneered at Zaharak. “Q.D.I. You understand, Q.D.I? Quadrant Department of Intelligence.”
Ishan smiled cruelly and tucked his hand gun in the holster on his belt. “I bet they'll open you up and make you watch your own heart stop beating, that's if you have one.”
Zaharak grinned as though they had said something nice to him; the men laughed still believing him to be a simple soldier. What they didn't know was that Zaharak was remembering his year in Tarline's tortures. Zaharak had a heart that much was certain. He had watched as the cruel Tarline tore it out of his chest and held it out for all to see. That day he had watched himself die, beat by slow beat. He remembered the feeling of sleep fall across his entire body. It had been an odd sensation. Everything around him had become clearer, more animate. He felt a part of the universe around him. It was like he had already been dead and then he was becoming a part of life.
The moment Tarline returned the heart to its owner Zaharak did what no other Seeker before him had done. He leapt from the table with his chest still open. He nearly tore the heart from his chest again, but he stopped himself. Fool, who knows if you would be able to return again. He closed the wound himself, concealing the beating heart once more. Those who had seen the event never forgot it, not even Tarline. True, any Seeker who had survived the trials had to complete this last test, but usually awoke two days later. Zaharak’s feat made some wonder if he even needed his heart; perhaps he was never truly alive.
The dropship flew towards an open hangar of a small oddly shaped building, its occupants save one having no idea who they were dealing with. When it landed in the nearly empty hangar, the ramp way lowered from the ship allowing them to exit. The superior and the two pilots escorted Zaharak out into the square hangar followed by the other soldier and his wounded companion. The last two soldiers split off toward a nearby medical station.
Though Zaharak kept his eyes on the superior's back as they led him through the various hallways and rooms of the building, he studied the route carefully, memorizing every detail. They passed through many groups of humans on their way, most in black suits and a few in white overcoats. At the sight of the tall and broadly built Tazalian, they stopped and stared, both in fear and with curiosity. As they were walking, Zaharak noted that some of the doorways required identification in addition to pass codes to open. The brace on his left arm could bypass these easily, though, it would take some time.
After traversing a series of hallways, they came to a lift. The superior pressed a button to call the car. When the doors opened, a thin female with glasses looked up from her holopad, eyes widening at the sight of Zaharak. She carefully sidestepped the group, her fright-filled eyes never leaving the Seeker. Twitching the tip of his tail, he let out a deep hiss to scare her even more. It worked. The woman fled down the hall screaming as the soldiers pushed him into the elevator. A ghost of a smile appeared for a brief moment on Zaharak's snout.
The soldiers sent the lift to a level well underground, by Zaharak's count nearly a 134 meters. The underground fortress had been built to keep human terrorist from getting in or out, but for Zaharak it would only provide amusement.
When the doors opened the group walked into a room filled with desks occupied by humans staring at holoscreens. The few humans who looked up seemed to wish they hadn't.
The soldiers walked Zaharak up to one of the desks, and the superior spoke to the lean man sitting there, “We've captured one of the enemy soldiers.”
The man looked at Zaharak with interest. “I can see that. Take it to interrogation room 114 and give any weapons and,” he looked curiously at the hat in the superior's hand, “personal effects to the labs to be examined.”
The superior nodded and led his group through even more hallways until they arrived at a sliding door, where he entered his code and the door slid open. He led Zaharak into a barren room with only two chairs and a long table. The othe
r soldiers waited outside. The man pushed Zaharak into a steel chair that faced a dark, tinted window, barely dodging the long tail that whipped out from underneath the Seeker.
Panting the superior said, “Not that you can understand me, but agents will be here soon. For your sake you better start talking.”
With that the superior turned and went back out the door leaving the Seeker alone. Now that he was where he wanted to be, he dropped the prisoner act and returned to his normal emotionless state. Zaharak, the Death Shadow, would wait patiently for his answers or at least patiently for a while.
Tired and bedraggled, Jonah, Emma, and Shalinda stepped gratefully onto the bottom platform of the stairway. They had finally made it after having to jump past gaps in the stairs and nearly getting blown to pieces by explosions. Not daring to stop and rest, they hurried out of the stairwell and into the empty and destroyed lobby. They found the once luxurious room was filled with rubble. Heavy sliding doors now lay flat on the ground allowing them an easy exit.
Jonah stepped out into the ruined streets first, checking to see if it was safe before signaling to the girls. Shalinda made a mad dash to his side and gripped his free arm, afraid to let go. Emma followed behind slowly scanning the area. All around among the wreckage of buildings, bridges, and hovercrafts were scattered bodies of both humans and aliens. A few blocks behind them they could hear the battle raging on.
Within the hull of the main Tazalian warship, Yahrik smirked at the humans' insignificant efforts to defend themselves. Human hovertanks had been called out to fire at the giant warships, but they did little damage to the heavily shielded ships. Salianos had ordered the warning hit and had made their presence known, but when it came to full-scale invasions, Yahrik personally called each attack. The next order the Elder's red snout gave was unnecessary but was more entertaining than watching soldiers attacking one another.
“Send in the automatons,” his deep voice echoed over the intercoms of the other warships.
Jonah led the girls through one abandoned street to the next in search of a hovercar that was both intact and unlocked. After a while, unable to push on much more, they stopped to rest in an empty clothing shop. To Emma's dismay, the shop happened to be one of Shalinda's favorites, not that it was a good time to be shopping. When the older girl asked to look around in order to calm down, Emma was more than happy to let her. The woman's nonsensical babbling was fraying on what little nerves Emma had left.
When the older girl had left, Emma sat next to her brother who was fingering a holopad he had taken from the store counter. “Any ideas where to go?” she asked.
Jonah shook his head. “There's rumors on the net that shuttles will be taking refugees to the off-planet resorts, but they will never make it past the warships.” He flicked a finger on one of the images. “I was thinking of taking a telepad to the Everest dome. We can hide inside one of the tunnels in the mountain for a while.”
Emma nodded. “That's if the telepads are still functional.”
Jonah tapped another image. “Already ahead of you, Sis. There's one in Westgate still running.”
Emma stood up. “Then we better hurry. Westgate is sixty blocks from here. I'll go grab Miss Fashion.”
It didn't take Emma too long to find Shalinda, who was talking on a communicator. “Hello? My name is Shalinda Apetgal. I'm with my boyfriend Jonah Sholtal who has something the aliens want.” Emma quickly figured out who she was talking to and snatched the communicator from Shalinda and smashed it on the ground before the older girl could continue.
“What in stars' names were you thinking?”
Shalinda rounded on the smaller girl. “I'm trying to save us from getting killed by those things.”
“By giving the relic to the Q.D.s? I don't know if you noticed, but the armies out there are after more than the relic. This is an invasion for control of the planet. The relic is more or less a side task.”
Jonah put the holopad in the shoulder bag and stood up to try and stop the girls arguing, but an impact nearby interrupted him. It was a lot louder and heavier sounding than the other explosions. The two girls stopped arguing. Confusion shone in all their eyes. Emma sprung into action before Jonah or Shalinda. Dashing past her brother, she went out into the abandoned streets. She turned in every direction until she caught the sight of a pillar of smoke rising ten blocks behind the store they had been hiding in. Jonah and Shalinda hurried out and followed Emma's gaze. A metallic roar reverberated through the air and the entire city seemed to rumble.
As they stared, an enormous shape rose from the depths of the smoke. A large snake-like head reared up and roared once more, flames billowing from its jaws. The long body of the metallic monster wove its way along a building and crushed the structure with a single constriction of its body. As the building crumpled, the creature ignited another building with a stream of flame from its mouth.
The Tazalians had unleashed Dohma, the flame serpent, upon the Western quadrant.
The Eastern quadrant received Somika, the stilt-legged destroyer. The Northern was besieged by Amelka, the insect burrower, and the Southern quadrant was torn apart by Tamilak, the feline demolisher. The four automatons would ensure that the humans would surrender or be annihilated.
As Dohma continued its journey through the city, Jonah quickly grabbed both girls' hands and led them towards Westgate, away from the monster, which was moving eastward. As they raced from city block to city block, they could still hear the metallic roars from the serpent and wondered how far away the monster really was. Jonah had never been as terrified as he was now. Not so much for himself, but for the two most important people in his life, Shalinda and his little sister, Emma.
Slipping past troops of human and alien soldiers, they slowly made their way from the shadows of war. The closer they found themselves to Westgate, the farther away the presence of destruction felt, like it was all just a bad nightmare and at any moment they'd wake up to find the city still alive with people going about their normal routines. But it wasn't a dream, and the one shadow that tracked their every move would remind them of that.
Patience was one of Zaharak's most impressive qualities. He had been sitting alone in the interrogation room for an hour in standard time. The whole time he had remained silent, his eyes never moving from the room behind the dark, tinted glass, where three humans had gathered, two male agents in black suits and a single female in a maroon blouse and black skirt. The woman’s blue-green eyes looked out from under her dark bangs at the emotionless golden eyes. Being the Q.D.I.'s best criminal analyzer, she had been called upon to dive into Zaharak's mind set. She would have her work cut out for her.
“Are you sure this is the same creature Lieutenant Connell brought in?” she asked.
The agent on her left chuckled, “What other one could it be, he's only the second one we've managed to capture alive.”
Zaharak put this little bit of information into his already constructed plan as the woman continued, “It's just that Connell's report doesn't add up to the creature we're looking at now. Connell clearly states that when he found it, it was wounded, dazed, and confused. To a certain extent, it was gullible enough to believe that a soldier's sarcasm was politeness, indicating it was naive. I'm not seeing any of that here. In fact I don't see anything.”
The man to her left patted her on the shoulder, “That's because it’s doing what any enemy prisoner would do. Try and build up a strong front until the interrogator breaks it down. Just watch, that thing will be crying when the questions start flying.”
The woman wasn't convinced. “Maybe. I still don't like the looks of it. It almost seems as though he is looking right through the privacy glass.” Zaharak nearly smirked, looking and listening.
When the door of the interrogation room finally slid open, a young-looking man with dark brown hair strolled in. He held a folder containing Connell's report in one strong hand and a glass of water in the other. Slapping the folder onto the table, the man sat dow
n on the chair in front of Zaharak. He set the glass next to the folder and folded his hands on the metal table. As he gazed at Zaharak emotionless eyes, the Seeker peered into the depths of the man’s green, youthful eyes.
The man opened the folder and began talking in a thick voice, “Let's get started shall we. Lieutenant Connell has stated in his report that when he found you, you were wounded and confused,” he looked back up at Zaharak, whose eyes still remained unreadable, “yet you don't appear to be.” He looked at the dried blood on the Seeker's chest and jacket, “Which makes me wonder if that is even your own blood. Were you trying to save one of your allies? Did he not make it and that was the reason you wandered into Connell's patrol?”
Zaharak didn't answer. The electric cuffs on his wrists went off sending a jolt through his body, a mere tickle to the Seeker. He never moved.
The man looked back at the report. “Oh that's right, you don't speak Earthnan. Let's try this then, I'm going to point to myself and tell you my name then point to you.”
In the other room, the agent to the left of the woman spoke, “Why is he being nice to that thing?”
The other man spoke, “Just watch, Adam's just getting started.”
The man in the interrogation room pointed to himself, “Adam,” he then pointed to Zaharak.
Zaharak remained silent, this time he didn't even feel the shock.
“Something’s not right,” said the woman in the other room.
The man named Adam dropped his voice to a dangerous level, “Listen, scumbag, either answer the simple question or you'll find yourself at the wrong side of an atom divider.” He pointed to himself again, “Adam,” and then pointed back at Zaharak, who still didn't answer. Adam grabbed the glass of water and tossed it at Zaharak. The Seeker didn't bother to dodge the projectile instead he let the glass shatter against his snout never once blinking. Adam shouted at the silent lizard, “That is it; you will be sent down to the labs and when you get there you're going to wish…”
