Rift Breaker

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Rift Breaker Page 8

by Tristan Michael Savage


  ‘No they won’t, Leroy, because you are pulled from this investigation. Raegar, I’m assigning you this responsibility.’

  Raegar’s round eyes widened. Once he realised what she was saying he bowed modestly. A rush of Kharla adrenaline filled his veins.

  ‘What?’ Leroy protested. ‘Jhaia, I have …’

  ‘That’s my decision, Fleet Commander,’ she snapped.

  Leroy grunted.

  ‘Commander Raegar, you are to issue a manhunt with the hypersat — they must be found. I want an enticing reward on each of their heads. I want their faces to be sent to every known civilisation.’

  ‘Yes ma’am,’ Raegar replied, ‘I am always willing to serve the overseers and the Tranquillian Composite.’

  ‘Commander Leroy, you will stay on Cenyulone. Lubrician officials are en route to discuss their withdrawal. You will address them in person and make a formal apology for the way you conducted yourself.’ Leroy looked away in resentment. ‘Other worlds are becoming agitated with the separation of Lubric. I fear they will follow suit. Do not let us down, gentlemen. The fate of the Composite may well depend on your next course of action.’

  Ten

  The Inhibitan’s navigation computer went blank when asked what lurked in the coordinates the gold disc gave.

  ‘We’ll have to trust the disc then,’ Milton said. Luylla winced at the remark.

  The disc was accurate when its data was laid alongside the existing maps from the navi computer. But, unlike the Inhibitan’s database, it did not contain any information about the inhabitants or government of worlds. Luylla had to enter the new destination manually into the computer. Tazman corrected her when she got the numbers wrong — a matter for which he was quite proud. After much squabbling, the trio was finally back in hyperspace.

  Milton sat up, thinking. That guy in Lubric had known his name, which was unusual, as Milton had lived on Stoneia his whole life until enlisting in Nova Corp at the end of last zircle. He couldn’t recall the creature from anywhere. Thinking about this and the attacks on the outer rim got him very curious.

  Luylla spent the trip with her boots on the console and pistol crossed over her chest. She looked relaxed, but Milton could see her watching her passengers in the reflection of the forward pane.

  Tazman curled up awkwardly on the passenger seat and snored most of the way. Sometimes he mumbled words, none of which made any sense. ‘Tribe you to pieces’ was the clearest thing Milton could decipher.

  The destination indicator bleeped. Tazman’s tail snapped back against his face; he rolled off the seat and clattered to the floor. Luylla set her pistol on the console and grabbed the controls. Outside, the purple tube shook and blew away into oblivion.

  The nebula’s splendour illuminated the cockpit. The supermassive tufts of thick gas formed a giant bowl that blurred and blotted the view of space beyond. Milton looked to the top of the pane where he saw three stars burning bright, their light carving out the bowl shape over time. From his perspective they were a little smaller than his extended fist, relatively close. Their light pierced the gas and created a green shimmering glow with yellow highlights.

  Tazman came over, leaned forward between the seats and yawned. Luylla tensed and slid her loose gun into its holster. She ran a scan of the area. Apart from indicating some floating mineral, the results were blank — no planets, no life, and no machinery — an endless green void.

  Luylla huffed. ‘I knew this would be a waste of time.’

  Something glinted in the distance. Milton caught the flash from the corner of his eye. He leaned forward with elbows on the console. Something was out there; he had no trace of doubt. He scanned carefully in that direction. The shine came again and he perked up.

  ‘There,’ he exclaimed, pointing.

  ‘What?’ fumed Luylla.

  Tazman had also seen it. ‘There’s a little black dot right there,’ he said, pointing. ‘Just go forward … Captain, ma’am.’

  Luylla burned the thrusters. The spot soon became apparent to all and Luylla turned the ship to centre it in the forward pane.

  Milton was riveted. The details became evident. Not surprisingly, he’d never seen anything like it. Its shape was organic and without specific design. Clusters of black spines jutted in every direction forming a bizarre clump. The Inhibitan drew close and Luylla decelerated. The thing was massive, about three times the size of a large class transport.

  ‘Space junk,’ stated Tazman.

  The incoming transmission light flashed, rounding up everyone’s focus. Not breaking her gaze from the spiny thing, Luylla moved slowly to flick the switch. A strange sound burst from the receivers. The moan sounded like a rusty girder twisting out of shape.

  ‘I don’t know that language,’ said Luylla.

  ‘Talking space junk,’ added Tazman.

  Milton’s vest pocket vibrated. He pulled out the gold disc. It rumbled in his palm for a moment then rang at a screeching pitch. Startled, he put it on the console, and the sound dropped an octave.

  The moan twisted and croaked. The disc whined and whistled. They were interacting. At first they both seemed to mimic each other. Then each made slight adjustments, allowing time for the other until the sounds matched perfectly. With that, they cut off. The three mesmerised beings, Milton, Tazman and Luylla, waited expectantly in absolute silence.

  The object outside moved. One of the spines shifted, angling away from the ship. Several more came to life. The large ones parted to reveal smaller spines that followed suit. The whole clump bloomed apart like some carnivorous botanical thing. From the shadowed gap that emerged, something poked into the light. It lengthened towards the ship, a rough-edged shaft, hollow and transparent.

  ‘A boarding tube,’ smiled Tazman.

  Luylla inched the ship closer. She pulled the controls back and to the right. The black mass swept out of view and the docking indicators splashed on screen. The proximity readings increased and the spikes crept into view again. The Inhibitan’s side entrance drifted over the tube. A sudden pull came on the ship and the appendage latched on with a shaking rumble. The pressurisation status indicator fired up.

  Luylla stood and turned. Tazman smiled up at her face. She drew a pistol and he graciously moved from her path. She stormed out of the cockpit, subtly disengaging her weapon safety on the way. Tazman followed.

  Milton leaned out to take another glance at the structure before trailing behind. He went down the connecting passage and found Tazman stopped in the cargo hold. He was looking down another smaller corridor labelled ‘medical centre’. A locker slammed and Luylla emerged from the corridor with a rifle. She cocked the handle on the side and slung it over her shoulder. Her belt was heavier, with a few extra ammo clips.

  ‘I take no chances,’ she said. ‘We are a long way from anywhere and I plan to get back to civilisation.’

  She crossed to the terminal door. Once she passed, Tazman turned to Milton with a big smile and thrust his pelvis forward, gesturing his sudden arousal at the thought of a lady with so many weapons.

  Luylla pulled the release levers. A hiss of vapour expelled and she opened the door. The transparent walkway appeared behind the dispersing mist. A circular silver door waited down the other end of the tube. Milton went to the mouth and looked up at the looming black spines. With a hesitant first step, he made his way along the uneven surface. Tazman jogged up and walked beside him, gaping at their destination. Luylla maintained a safe following distance.

  Black spikes reached from the massive object, running close, too close, to the foggy wall of the walkway. Milton had second thoughts. But he forced those cowardly ponderings from his mind; he wasn’t leaving until he found out what that guy on Lubric was on about.

  Getting closer to the spines, the path darkened. The green space at Milton’s feet disappeared behind the black of the structure and shadow swallowed him. The round silver surface before them twisted open, unleashing a flood of light. Milton paused and glanced ba
ck, past the armed Luylla to the distant entrance, wondering again if it was too late. Luylla stopped and eyed him curiously. He breathed deep. There was nowhere else to go.

  He winced against the light and pushed on through the entrance. It looked more like a cave than a space vessel. The smooth white floor reflected everything. The wall was made of jagged and uneven crystals. Silver door-size panels of various shapes were evenly spaced along it. With a hiss, a diamond-shaped one on the right slid open.

  ‘I say ladies first,’ said Tazman. Luylla flicked her pistol holster open and slid her palm to the butt of her gun, ‘or not,’ he added.

  They walked through and found themselves in a wide, hollowed out passage. The ceiling was about five times higher than Milton. As they walked, Milton noticed that, when looked at from different angles, the walls changed colour.

  Another door, tall and thin, opened at the passage end. Beyond was complete darkness. On entering, Milton felt a soft breeze. He stepped forward a few paces, leaving Tazman and Luylla at the entrance.

  Light suddenly rose. Milton blinked. Then he saw them. A group of tall figures stood in a surrounding arc, all the same size and shape as the being that defended Milton and Tazman on Lubric. There were five of them. Their hoods were lowered revealing large narrow skulls with patterns of bony ridges over the top. They had smooth, grey, featureless faces and slender cheekbones and all looked at him with large mirrored eyes. Their black, draping robes reached to the floor.

  The middle one stepped forward.

  ‘Welcome,’ it said.

  It was him, Reelai. Milton recognised the voice. Reelai extended his open palms in a gesture that might have meant friendship. His hands were narrow with long fingers.

  ‘We are thankful you came,’ he said. ‘We hope you are not disorientated after all you have endured.’ As he spoke, the skin around his cheekbones and eyes flexed, appearing to light with expression.

  Luylla and Tazman stepped into the room. Reelai acknowledged them with a look. ‘Welcome to the safe haven.’

  One by one, from the outside in, the other four beings glided forth with no visible leg movement, forming a perfectly spaced line, and filed out of the room. Luylla took a step back and fingered her guns as they passed.

  ‘You have no need for weapons here,’ snapped Reelai, staring her down.

  Reelai waved his upturned palm. The room darkened. A square on the ceiling pulsed to a steady glow. A depiction of the ruined Orisurrection appeared, an image endowed with perfect holo-screen resolution. Other sections of the ceiling lit and Milton looked up and twisted on the spot. There was no sound, but the message was clear.

  Milton saw his face, and the faces of Tazman and Luylla. The confused trio was shown on the streets of Lubric, ‘escaping authority’, as the caption was phrased. Footage of the Inhibitan flying through orbital defences played continuously.

  Text in foreign languages flashed at increasing speed. Many different creatures expressed opinions on the matter. They all had the same accusing messages, and all bore the mark of the Tranquillian Composite.

  The ceiling blanked. The lights rose and it reverted to its smooth mineral-like surface. The round chamber was a smooth geometric shape. Purple columns were spaced evenly along the wall. Milton could not see any light sources.

  ‘These messages are spreading across your galaxy,’ explained Reelai. His voice echoed. ‘We are aware of your innocence and you are free to stay at this facility for the time we will take to solve this problem.’

  ‘Who is “we”?’ asked Tazman.

  ‘Alliance with us would provide a greater chance of defeating the Vellnoa. They are the true enemies here.’

  ‘You’re saying the Vellnoa did this? What are they?’ asked Luylla.

  Reelai answered, ‘The Vellnoa is a race of beings genetically similar to our own. For eons they have manipulated the fabric of the universe to their own ends. They are extremely dangerous and can break open rift gates with mere thought.’

  ‘Rift gates?’ asked Milton.

  ‘Space has potential to fold. Two sides of a vast distance can be brought together, so that they are a mere footstep away. A rift gate is the portal that connects them. The Vellnoa are able to travel interstellar distances without need of a vessel. This method is instantaneous.’

  ‘Yer, okay,’ interrupted Luylla. ‘That’s a nice little story, but how are you going to help me clear my name? Can you testify to all of that to the Composite? Perhaps provide some proof to get this damn bounty off my head?’

  ‘I’m afraid we cannot assist in the manner you describe,’ explained Reelai. ‘Time is of the essence and our resources are required elsewhere.’

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ screamed Luylla. ‘I’ve had enough.’ She turned to Milton. ‘You hitch a ride and run away without paying, you get me in trouble with the law, drag me out to the middle of nowhere and you tamper with my phutting ship! For what? Fairytales? If these guys are no help, if they are as useless as you two idiots,’ she pointed hard into his chest, ‘then the least you can do is give me my money!’

  Something landed at their feet. Luylla glanced down. A Lubrician money pouch lay on the floor. Octagon-shaped platinum tokens had scattered out from its opening.

  ‘You are free to leave,’ boomed Reelai.

  Luylla shoved Milton back and dropped to collect the currency.

  ‘Nothing can express our gratitude,’ said Reelai.

  ‘I suppose at this point I would say something along the lines of “it was a pleasure doing business with you”, but it’s below me to lie.’ Luylla stood and pulled the pouch cord shut. ‘Good riddance.’ She turned and marched back down the hallway. The more distance she gained, the more Tazman’s tail drooped to the ground. When she disappeared his ears twitched in her direction and he sighed.

  Milton turned back to Reelai. ‘What do the Vellnoa have to do with us?’ he asked.

  Reelai turned his gaze to Milton and stared, as if appealing to his very soul. ‘You’ve been having dreams, visions perhaps?’

  Milton looked at the floor. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Their essence flows through your veins. Somehow, you are like them. You are a Rift Breaker.’ Milton thought of his dreams. He knew there was something peculiar about them. Reelai continued. ‘The Vellnoa are greatly disturbed that another species can possess their unique gift. They seek to destroy you. They have enslaved our race since beyond our collective memories. The genetic material you carry could help every Xoeloid gain freedom.’

  ‘They were on the Reconotyre,’ said Milton, ‘that thing with the black eyes?’

  ‘Correct. They have destroyed many lives in their search. We offer protection. In return we would be honoured if you would allow analysis of your genetic coding.’

  Milton knew Reelai was someone to be trusted.

  ‘The Vellnoa hunt you for your gift. You insult them every time your heart beats.’ Reelai looked over the pair. ‘Journeying here must have made you weary. I will show you to a place of rest.’

  Another door slid open on the opposite side of the chamber.

  ‘Come,’ said Reelai. His black robe wiped across the smooth floor as he glided to the new exit.

  Milton and Tazman exchanged a glance.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Milton.

  ‘I think I messed up,’ said Tazman.

  Milton gave a puzzled look.

  Tazman explained, ‘Maybe I should’ve insulted her more — or less. One of the two.’

  ‘What do you think about all this?’ said Milton, annoyed, gesturing at their new surroundings.

  ‘Well, we’re stranded, but at least we’re safe,’ said Tazman. ‘But if we need to go anywhere, you could always make a “rift gate”.’

  Milton sighed and strode after Reelai, who stood paused at the door.

  ‘Kidding,’ said Tazman, quickening to catch up.

  Milton’s brain had burnt out trying to absorb all the information Reelai had presented. In time a million littl
e questions would sprout. But right now all he wanted to do was lie down.

  Reelai nodded and turned down the corridor. It was smaller — cosy even — just big enough for Reelai’s large form. The colour of the walls transformed as they progressed.

  A silver door opened up to the left and Reelai turned down the new path. A larger gold door loomed on the right and Milton examined it curiously. Reelai led them through a few more tunnels and slowed before another entrance.

  Behind the door was a small chamber. In the centre stood a small round table on a single leg, made of the same stuff as the walls. Two rectangular blocks were raised off the floor on either side.

  ‘We hope this is acceptable,’ said Reelai.

  ‘Not bad,’ said Tazman. ‘But we also have some biological waste issues to deal with.’

  ‘Through there.’ Reelai pointed his slender grey finger to another door on the right wall, hidden from view.

  Tazman sighed with relief. ‘Good, ’cause I really gotta go.’ He skipped out though the door.

  Milton went to one of the blocks. It wobbled under the touch of his finger. Some kind of pliable gel substance.

  ‘For resting,’ said Reelai.

  Milton sat on the gel bed. The unfamiliar substance proved warm, flexible and surprisingly comfortable.

  ‘Thank you for all you’ve done,’ said Milton. ‘I imagine you took a risk appearing to us on Lubric.’

  ‘Taking risks is part of a soldier’s life.’

  The entrance opened again and another Xoeloid entered the room and set a large bowl of fruit on the table.

  ‘Food collected from a nearby world.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ said Milton, relief in his voice.

  Reelai nodded at his comrade, who returned the gesture and left the room.

  ‘Fruit!’ Tazman appeared. He approached the bowl and picked up a purple sphere and started sniffing it. His bright teeth snapped open and lunged into it. Juice squirted into the air and ran down his chin. His tail whipped up and over him in his excitement. He plucked two more pieces with his other hand and sniffed them loudly as he chewed. One cheek swollen with the fruit flesh, he turned back to the onlooking pair and grinned.

 

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