Creator's End

by A. R. Knight

  So far, being a pilot is a terrible experience; I’m always under attack from enemies outside or from snarky passengers inside. I’m either breaking out of a buried spaceport, or crash-landing into nowhere.

  Give me legs on the ground and a long march, and I’ll be happy.

  As if listening to me, a section of blue lines ahead flares bright white for a moment, and then a section the lines surround shades in with that soft white color.

  “Going to guess it wants me to land there?” I say.

  “You’re learning!” T’Oli cries. “There is no prouder moment for a teacher than when their student acts on their own for the first time.”

  “Uh, thanks. Now, how do I land?”

  T’Oli falls into rote instruction mode, rattling off buttons to press, angles to shift the flight stick, and, finally, when to shove the whole thing into neutral and use the maneuvering jets to settle down. It’s all going fine until, when I activate the struts, all the terminals flicker and blink off. The jets die, and the shuttle plummets the last two meters to slam into the dirt.

  But, somehow, nobody dies. The shuttle doesn’t explode. I fall into my netting, T’Oli slides around, and Vee and Viera continue hanging, useless.

  “That wasn’t so bad?” I offer.

  “Had better,” Vee hisses. “But, I am alive.”

  “Kaishi, I’m never flying with you again,” Viera says. “But, thanks for not getting us killed.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  10 Climbing the Spire

  Sax doesn’t reply, doesn’t clue the Flaum in except to take the egg in his right midclaw and toss it high in the air, almost to the level’s ceiling. The Flaum tracks it, and Sax takes advantage. A one-two kick with his legs sends Sax flying across the floor and into the Flaum before the furry creature can react.

  With his midclaws, Sax tears away the miner as his fore-claws pick the Flaum up - painfully - by the shoulders. Sax digs in his midclaws, piercing the miner’s circuits and gas canisters, rendering the weapon a useless hunk of garbage. Then, glancing up, Sax swings the Flaum around.

  “Catch,” Sax hisses in the Flaum’s face, and, to both their surprise, the Flaum actually overcomes the pain and shock to get his furry hands up and snatch the egg as it falls. “Nicely done.”

  Sax sets the Flaum back on the floor.

  “A fair trade,” Sax hisses as he turns back to the elevator.

  The Flaum offers nothing in reply.

  The elevator only rises a short distance before chugging to a stop, the panel blinking orange in the universal signal for remote override. Sax doesn’t doubt for a second who’s actually controlling the lift now.

  Fraykt, or one of the Vyphen’s cronies.

  But he doesn’t expect the doors to open.

  Level 93 makes a greasy first impression. Chunks of half-refined ore sit immediately outside the lift’s doors, and the mechanisms for turning dirt-covered minerals into usable metals lay further back, behind hanging sheets and exposed walls, as if someone wanted to hide their misuse. Light comes from the floor-to-ceiling windows that, as the day dims into evening, start to glow with their own stored energy. Not solar, not on a planet as fogged as this, but wind-driven. Molecules blown around and around, giving off low light only visible when other sources go away. Old tech, and inefficient, but given its place in the Spire, Level 93 might be very old.

  So why’s he here?

  “Bring me to Bas,” Sax hisses loud.

  Anyone waiting for him on this level’s going to know he’s here anyway, and if Fraykt is listening, then Sax may as well make demands.

  “You want, really want your pair?” the voice comes back at Sax from a speaker somewhere - maybe even multiple ones - throughout the level. “Then tell me, Oratus, tell me why you left your precious Vincere for our little, little Spire?”

  “I didn’t leave for your Spire.” Sax gets around the chunks of ore and heads back through the sheets. “We left to find the truth. To find Evva and learn why she abandoned her post.”

  “What truth?”

  Sax hesitates, then makes a cold calculation; there’s no reason not to tell Fraykt everything. If the Vyphen is loyal to the Chorus and the Amigga, then he’s probably already killed Bas, and Sax will destroy him for it. If the Vyphen’s not, or has other ideas, then Sax proving he’s not a follower of Chorus law - a statement that sounds weird anytime Sax thinks it - might lead the Vyphen to give in without a fight.

  In that case, Sax might even show the creature mercy.

  Maybe.

  “The Chorus and the Amigga are after perfection,” Sax says. “Control. They don’t trust us, or any species. We found one on a space station Evva sent us to, and it was designing biological servants. Replacements for us.”

  There’s quiet for a moment, then a soft laugh comes through the intercom. “Replacements. Your friend Plake surely, must have told you how it feels to be replaced? To be told, declared you’re no longer useful?”

  Sax has no time for Vyphen pity.

  “This is not the same,” the Oratus hisses as he completes a circuit of the level. “The Amigga don’t want to retire us, they want to eliminate us. Remove any threats to their power, their way of life.”

  There’s nothing on Level 93 for Sax to use, nobody for him to kill. Though by the time Sax gets back around to the lift, its doors are closed. He punches the control panel, but gets no response. So Fraykt’s trapped him here.

  “What is your solution, your answer to this problem, Oratus?” Fraykt asks. “Slaughter them all? Use your claws in the only, absolute way you know how?”

  “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

  “This Spire and all within it survive, live because an order exists in the galaxy,” Fraykt replies. “That order allows commerce, allows us to profit and, if not prosper, if not thrive, to make something of our lives. Removing the Chorus would thrust everything into chaos, disorder. Trillions would die as everyone scrambles for power.”

  “Better that than a slow extinction.”

  Sax looks up along the lift shaft to the level’s ceiling. No obvious options. Except, and Sax turns to the chunks of rock, he could make his own exit.

  “That’s your thought, your opinion,” Fraykt tries a comeback. “Some of us would prefer to enjoy our remaining lives, rather than spend them in your hellish fight.”

  Sax picks up the nearest chunk of ore. It’s heavy, and he’s using all four claws to hold it. This would have been easier if he’d kept that Flaum’s miner, but Sax isn’t good at planning for the future. He’s much better at wrecking the present.

  “Last chance,” Sax hisses. “Open the lift and bring me to Bas, or I’ll make my own exit.”

  “It’s coming,” Fraykt replies. “I also find it quaint you assume , you think your pair is still alive. We had the same conversation, her and I, and I have to commend you both. You’re made for each other, both of you. Or were, anyway.”

  Sax hears the shuttling of the lift heading his way and drops the rock, makes a dash for the other side of the level, then leaps up into the crossbars from which those thick sheets hang. The lift settles into the platform and, with a chime, the doors open. As expected, two Flaum and two Whelk come out slow, miners raised and ready.

  “I trust you’ll let my friends continue our conversation,” Fraykt announces, though Sax doesn’t hear any glee in the Vyphen’s watery voice. “You and your pair reached, clawed too far, Sax. Revolution doesn’t need to be done in such broad strokes. Better to change the galaxy in small shifts. I am sorry, so sorry.”

  Sax doesn’t believe Fraykt’s sorry at all. The two Oratus are just another annoyance to be removed. Sax, though, has no intention of dying. Not yet, anyway.

  The quartet split into pairs, a Flaum and a Whelk in each, with the furry ones taking the lead and sticking their noses in the air. Smelling for Sax, who, no doubt, reeks of pollen dust. With one pair coming towards him and the other breaking the opposite way around the central
shaft, though, Sax has an opportunity.

  Those lift doors are still open.

  Sax bounces from his crossbar to another, then another, each landing causing a metal rattle as the bars bang against their settings. Flaum and Whelk cry out their alarms, but Sax has one goal, and with his claws and talons pushing and grabbing in unison, he skates into the open lift before anyone can pull the trigger.

  Sax’s tail slaps at the door panel and a moment later the lift’s closed and rising. There’ll be another override coming, but the Oratus is getting higher up the Spire. Getting closer to Fraykt.

  His claws can wait for that.

  When the lift judders to a stop after only one level, it’s not exactly a surprise. Fraykt isn’t going to let Sax come riding right to his floor, not that Sax knows where that is. Right now, the Oratus is trying to get back up towards the top, because everything about Fraykt screams that the Vyphen isn’t much for bottom-dwelling.

  The doors, though, don’t open this time. Sax doesn’t feel like waiting for whatever plan Fraykt cooks up, so he springs to the lift’s ceiling, using his claws and talons to forge his own handholds in the smooth gray tile. There’s a thick outline for the meter-long access hatch, with a small handle jutting out from the ceiling, marked with holes for easy gripping by small Flaum hands. Sax uses his right foreclaw to do the dirty work, grasping and pulling the hatch open. It swings free of its stuck sides with a shower of dust, and then Sax climbs through into the wide shaft.

  As he’s making his escape, Frakyt pulls his next move and starts the lift heading back down. Standing on top of it, Sax has a great view of the entire shaft, which launches up through the Spire like some strange tunnel. Neon blue lights line the shaft at four sides, casting a just-over-dim amount of glow into the wide space. The constant squeal of brakes and the whistling whoosh of other lifts far above echo around Sax.

  Who jumps.

  Thankfully, the walls of the Spire shaft aren’t all that thick, and Sax carves himself an easy perch where he can see his former lift descending, and stopping a level below. When he sees the Flaum and Whelk head into the elevator, Sax realizes he forgot to close the hatch behind him.

  Guess that makes things more difficult.

  Fraykt’s thugs aren’t oblivious to the new opening above them, and they look Sax’s way, bringing their miners to bear. So Sax decides to take himself where they’re not, jumping across the shaft towards the other side.

  And landing on the rapidly rising cargo lift that, at this level, takes up the rest of the shaft. Sax hits hard and rolls, barely managing to stop himself from skinning against the shaft’s sides. The pressure from the throttling rise pushes Sax into the floor. The smooth walls blitz by him, making his peripheral vision a blur.

  One thing’s certain though - this lift will end, and soon. The shaft breaks into different lift setups as the Spire goes on, shifting from most of the space reserved for cargo to smaller, passenger-friendly lifts. Which is why Sax isn’t thrilled to see the dark bulk of another lift heading down towards him.

  Using his tail and his midclaws, Sax scurries out from under the approaching lift as his ride slows and eventually stops. There’s a loud shunt as the cargo lift’s doors grind open, and Sax takes the opportunity to stand as the smaller, higher lift settles to its own halt before a door one level higher.

  There’s a couple meters between the two, and Sax makes the leap, clawing up the side of the smaller lift and over the top as it starts to rise again.

  He’s done with the outside.

  Sax rips open this lift’s emergency hatch from above, then drops into the middle of a pair of uniformed Flaum, wearing dirty full-body seals coated with dust and oil. They both press themselves back against the sides of the elevator when Sax lands between them, and the Oratus gives them a feral grin.

  “Stay there,” Sax hisses. “And I won’t maul you.”

  He looks at the panel. Level 68 and climbing. Looks like this lift is heading to the 43rd.

  “Fraykt,” Sax says, swinging his head to catch both Flaum in the glare. “Where is he?”

  “Who?” says the Flaum on Sax’s left, but Sax doesn’t care, because the one to his right emits a high-pitched, incriminating squeak.

  “You,” Sax says, turning and looming over the smaller creature. Behind him, Sax uses his tail to press and trap the other Flaum against the lift’s wall, keeping the furry critter from getting any stupid ideas. “Fraykt. Speak, and you both leave this lift alive.”

  “I don’t know where he lives,” the Flaum says. “Nobody does! But, but, I can tell you where you go if you want to see him?”

  The Flaum hesitates, his small black beady eyes searching for some hope in Sax, that this nugget might be enough to earn him his life.

  “Tell me, then,” Sax says.

  “39th level. It’s a utility floor, but he keeps a shop there. In the back, near the generators.”

  Sax leans in close. Flaum aren’t normally good liars, especially not with their lives on the line, but this one’s had it rough. His gray-white fur is black-tarred and torn, one of his large ears is missing a chunk. A dangerous life breeds dangerous habits, like lying to an Oratus.

  “You’ll guide me, then,” Sax says as the lift stops at level 43.

  The doors open, showing a quiet residential level split into small apartments. No miners, no Fraykt guards waiting for him, so Sax uses his tail to push out the Flaum’s friend, then, with his left midclaw, Sax punches the 39th level into the lift’s control panel. The doors shut and they’re off again.

  “Are you fighting Fraykt? Are the Vincere finally coming for him?” Now the Flaum’s got a hint of coy in his voice.

  Information is as good a currency as any other, Sax supposes.

  “I’m not with the Vincere,” Sax says. “Fraykt has a friend, and I’m getting her back.”

  “You think you’re getting her back?” the Flaum shakes his large head. “Even you, Oratus, aren’t going to win a fight with him.”

  “His guards don’t scare me.” Sax watches the lift’s counter tick down on the panel.

  Almost there. Almost to Bas.

  “No, not the guards. Fraykt himself. He used to be a commander, you know. Before?”

  “That means nothing to me.”

  Sax, though, is lying as he speaks. There aren’t many Vyphen commanders left. The Chorus had tried to kill them all when they removed the Vyphen from power, when the Oratus took their place as the officers in the Vincere. The culling had made sense at the time - these Vyphen knew the secrets of the Vincere fleet, of their strategies and ships.

  Leaving any alive to be taken by the Sevora, even if Vyphen couldn’t be controlled directly, presented a risk.

  Sax, though, has never hunted one before. If Fraykt is truly an old Vyphen commander, then the fight would be a good one. If it ever occurs. Sax blinks his priorities straight as the lift opens onto level 38. He’s not here to fight Fraykt. He’s here to rescue Bas and, if possible, Plake, Engee, and Agra-Red.

  11 Contact

  We don’t lower the boarding ramp so much as open the door. A few stones roll into the shuttle, and we actually step out and up onto the plateau where I managed to set down the ship. Aside from the usual clutter of gray and black rocks, flimsy grasses make themselves apparent too. They’re light green and white, shivering in the cold wind whipping the fog around up here.

  “At least there’s life,” Viera says as she stands next to me, keeping her hands close in to her sides.

  I’m freezing too - our thin outfits aren’t a match for this weather, and I’m about to suggest holing back up in the shuttle when Vee, exploring off the front end of the ship, makes a loud hiss and waves us over.

  The Oratus is standing over a drop-off, though it’s one I could see myself scaling if I had to; plenty of jutting cliffs and handholds. My hands ache at the thought of gripping all those icy rocks, but then, considering what we’re looking at, I’ll probably make them.

 
Because beneath our feet there’s a particular orange glow. Not like the pipes back in that Amigga horror-base, but the calming flicker of something very human: fire.

  “There’s something down there,” Vee states the obvious analysis.

  “A settlement?” T’Oli proposes.

  “Too small,” I say. “There’s not enough food, land here. Maybe travelers, someone who’s very, very lost?”

  “No.” Viera joins us at the edge and, by the stunned tone in her voice, I get she knows something we don’t. “This is one of ours. Mine, I mean. The Lunare.”

  “The Lunare?” Vee’s confused.

  “One of your caves?” I don’t have the patience to give Vee a crash course on real human history right now. “All the way here?”

  “It’s possible,” Viera says. “We’ve tunneled a long way. Always looking for more resources, for a places we can expand without the Charre, without your tribes in the way. But I don’t think we’ve gone to the other side of the world...”

  “The shuttle was flying fast,” T’Oli adds. “We’re much closer to your side of things than we were. I’m surprised the Sevora haven’t found us, really. They should have shot us from the sky, or hunted us here.”

  “So you’re saying we need to get off this rock as soon as possible?” I give T’Oli a bewildered stare.

  “Oh, yes. The longer we’re up here, the odds the Sevora blow all of us to pieces goes up exponentially. They would be certain to detect the shuttle’s energy.”

  “T’Oli, next time you know these things, please tell us,” Viera says.

  “Teaching Kaishi how to fly seemed the greater priority at the moment,” T’Oli replies. “And after we landed, I assumed we would depart quickly. We are, however, moving slower than expected.”

  I shake my head. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  We take a quick minute to dash back to the shuttle, stuff the emergency packs full of nutrient goop, and head back out. Vee offers to carry all the packs down the mountainside, for which I’m grateful, as the climb proves harder than I thought. Numb fingers, it turns out, make physical acts difficult.