Tomarkus and the Betrayed Planet

by Vishal Ved

  © Vishal Ved 2019

  All rights reserved

  All rights reserved by author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

  First Published in March 2019

  ISBN: 978-93-5347-262-7

  TOMARKUS

  AND THE BETRAYED PLANET

  About the Book

  Tomarkus and the Betrayed planet is the debut novel of Vishal Ved. It is inspired by James Cameron’s Avatar and J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. In “Tomarkus and the Betrayed Planet” the author has created a very imaginative world whose problems are unique, and yet universal. What does it mean to live in an alien land? What circumstances could force someone to leave, abandoning their friends to a burning homeland? How are two planets situated many light years away related to each other? These questions will shape the story and take the readers on an adventurous ride into a world full of difficult challenges and breathtaking betrayals.

  About the Author

  Vishal Ved started writing his debut novel last year while he was enrolled in The University of California, Berkeley, in the heart of Silicon Valley, for his Entrepreneurship degree program. Science fiction had fascinated Vishal since childhood, and this ultimately inspired him to create the unique and imaginative world of Tomarkus, which he hopes readers will love to explore as much as he enjoyed creating it.

  Apart from his academic pursuits, Vishal has been filing patents for some of his household inventions, and has licensed one of his inventions to a manufacturing industry in India.

  After completing his Bachelor’s degree in Aerospace Engineering this year, Vishal has plans to seek seed investments for his startup. He is also working on the second book in his “Tomarkus” series, which he hopes to bring out in the near future..

  Contact: author.tomarkus@gmail.com

  Instagram: @author_vishalved

  Facebook: Vishal Ved

  Twitter - @VishalVed8

  Acknowledgements

  Mr. Sandeep Maheshwari, whose motivational words penetrated deep into my heart four years ago and gave me the courage to follow my heart.

  Ms. Vrinda Baliga, my editor, for making my manuscript beautiful and error-free with her unique editing talent.

  Mr. Kritik Nagar, for the exceptional cover.

  Mr. Abdul Rajaq, for blending his great design principles in the cover and always supporting me like my elder brother.

  My family: Mrs. Santosh, my dearest mother who never let me lose hope in the toughest of times and protected me in every situation. Mr. Manoj and Mr. Radheshyam, my father and my grandfather who always supported my dreams and trusted me with their hard-earned money. Muskan, my cute little sister, who helped me in every possible manner. Mr. Neeraj Ved, Mr. Rahul Gupta and Mrs. Manasvi Ratnawat, for their unshakable faith in me.

  My friends: Sri Harsha, Mukesh, Anand, Shanmukh, Aayushi, Chandrapal, Nick, Balraj, Ronaldo, Krishpal, Shivangi, Vishal, Pragya, Koustav, Sambit, Anshul, Ashit, Namrata, Shubham, Jewel, Somya, Piyush, Mayur, Tathagat, Pratik and Priya, for always supporting me and helping me with their great suggestions.

  JNV Pachpahar, my school, and all of my teachers for launching me on the path to a bright future.

  SRM-IST, my beloved college, which gave me uncountable opportunities and helped me realize some of my wildest dreams.

  Sutardja Center of Entrepreneurship, UC Berkeley, for teaching me entrepreneurship, which many believe cannot be taught.

  Special thanks to Dr. R.Vasudevan, Mr. Ankur Ghelani, Mr. Nikunj Panchal, Mr. Chris Chettissery, Mr. Somnath Chakraborty, Mr. K.C.Meena, Mr. Sanjay Kathuria and Dr.C.Pandian, for your immense support.

  You, the reader, for taking a leap of faith in picking up a book by a debut author.

  Contents

  1. The Suffering Land Tomarkus

  2. The Agonies of Carcerem

  3. The Mad Rush

  4. The Desert Fight

  5. Breaking Into Prison

  6. Prison Escape

  7. A Beautiful Citris-Rise

  8. Sinister Eyes In the Woods

  9. A Deathbed Of Thorns

  10. The Marvellous Senempis

  11. The Fungi Mountains

  12. A New World

  14. Warriors of Marcamaayu

  15. The Death Trap

  16. Xena And the Crusher

  17. The Secret Message

  18. A World Full Of Surprises

  19. What Is A Family?

  20. The Enemy Fort Calamus

  21. Ugly And Mysterious

  22. The Casket and the Encrypted Script

  23. The Mystery of the Hovering Stones

  24. The Root Riddle

  25. Riddle Solved

  26. Disaster of the Mild Venom

  27. Hands In Muck

  28 The Betrayed Planet

  29. The Five-Eyed Monster

  30. The Beginning Of Slavery On Tomarkus

  31. Saving the Enemy

  32. Drowning In Blood

  33. The Civil War

  34. The Truth about the Lost Child

  35. Dealing with Evil

  36. Four Rotten Bodies

  37. Lightning Bolts in the Pool

  38. The Endgame

  39. A Breathtaking Surprise

  1.

  The Suffering Land Tomarkus

  Dueso was life. Every species on Tomarkus breathed it to stay alive. Insufficient quantities of dueso produced effects akin to strangulation. And that, in effect, was what was happening: Tomarkus was slowly strangulating to death.

  Dueso level on the planet had declined terribly. Its quantity in the atmospheric composition of Tomarkus was decreasing at the rate of 0.02% a year, which had brought the overall level down to a bare minimum of 4.3%, not enough for the survival of all species on the planet. Meanwhile the deadly fungi responsible for the catastrophe was rapidly spreading in the oceans of Tomarkus, its huge and disgusting saffron floating mountains consuming dueso morning and night.

  How had this fungi started to pile up on the ocean surface all of a sudden, threatening all life in a matter of mere years? Some said it was the work of a wicked fugit, while others believed the fungi had been brought from another world and planted on purpose by a secret society to summon the apocalypse. But, whatever its origins, the fact remained that the dueso cycle on Tomarkus had been disturbed and the outcome of this could be nothing but annihilation. Low dueso availability had suppressed the living standards of all life forms, who could never enjoy a deep satisfying breath like their ancestors had. Meanwhile, having conquered almost two-thirds of the ocean, the fungi, it appeared, was weaving a funeral pall for the planet.

  Fugits, the civilized inhabitants of Tomarkus, continued to research day and night, but no solution had been found as yet to wipe out the fungi. So far, they had only succeeded in controlling the rate of its spread by adding the salt of Arcanum crystal to the ocean waters.

  Arcanum was a unique element on Tomarkus, first discovered near the mountain range. It was soon declared the most precious element present on the planet. When Arcanum salt was mixed in ocean waters, the fungi couldn’t conquer that region—salt prevented local fungi from regenerating, thus stopping its breeding cycle. At one time, the fungi mountains had been huge and violent, stretching well beyond a hundred feet in height.
Now special fugit infantry units deployed to each fungi colony location in the ocean, with the sole task of keeping the arcanum salt concentration in the surrounding waters sufficiently high, kept the fungi in check, but the Arcanum came with its own problems. Transparent and clear oceans had become things of the past, fascinating, but hard to believe in. Extensive use of salt had changed the colour of seawater to dirty yellow as the salt formed a colloidal mixture with the minerals present in the ocean waters, messing them up completely.

  The falling levels of dueso was a major problem, but not the only one on Tomarkus. The planet was huge, which had its own consequences. The fifty-six moons orbiting Tomarkus gave rise to extreme tides in the oceans, and a significant amount of fertile land on the planet had been claimed by the ocean. For a population of over hundred thousand fugits the fertile land available wasn’t enough, neither was there much prey left to hunt. Forests could not be cut down at any cost as they were the only source of dueso production. Hence, the fugits were bound to practice underwater farming, compromising on taste and hygiene.

  A few hundred years ago, they had genetically re-engineered their crops to keep them alive in the oceans in the colloidal mixture of Arcanum salt; no other aquatic flora or fauna could survive the high concentrations of arcanum salt. This left the oceans of Tomarkus lonesome, filled with skeletal remains of aquatic life. The ocean bed was scattered with the skeletons of the aquatic monsters that had once inhabited the waters, and often broken fragments of these bones could be found floating on the surface or cast upon distant shores after cyclones.

  Some of the distinct aquatic species of the past were big fishes, over 300 feet long, and weighing close to 2 million pounds. Lethal fishes with poisonous tentacles, about 180 feet long, had been the most dangerous of all; they had survived by poisoning the surface water, and swallowing hundreds of dead preys from the surface on their way back. But, despite their size and ingenuity, none survived. The land animals fared no better. When dueso became scarce on Tomarkus, fugits killed each and every large mammal on the planet. No trace could be found of big animals, not even in the densest regions of forest. The giant 18-legged hopping monsters went extinct, whose ultrasound whistle had once deceived nearby prey into coming out of their holes. Gone too were the gigantic 5-eyed caterpillars whose dueso consumption was way higher.

  Biodiversity, at this point, was on the verge of collapsing, and fugits could not waste a single ounce of dueso. Everyone was forced to compromise, especially the prisoners who were dying miserably everyday in Carcerem due to dueso scarcity.

  2.

  The Agonies of Carcerem

  Ariet’s future seemed darker than the night. He had been standing in his cell since morning, on the uneven pock-marked floor. The guards had disappeared, but he could sense the terror waiting behind the cloak of silence. His reedy legs hurt in the joints, and his feet itched as though a hundred worms were feasting on them. Ariet was a sato, a male fugit, with green, bulging eyes, half-covered by thick eyelids like an aged fish. His silver-grey skin glittered in the light. He had a pair of thin legs and a pair of hands, emerging from his torso. His oval head had two slits in the middle of forehead for breathing, and a thin cut in the face from where he could eat, speak and cry. Physical ears had disappeared centuries ago, leaving small holes on both sides of fugits’ heads.

  Exhausted and depressed, Ariet finally sat down on the floor. His compact cell was like an ugly bird’s cage. The smell that he had been aware of from the time they had put him into this cell continued to annoy him. At first, he had thought it was something from the Dueso vent, situated in the ceiling of his cylindrical glass cell. He had checked it repeatedly, bowing his forehead to the vent, but the air coming from it was normal; if anything, it was cleaner and more odourless than he expected to get in Carcerem. Gawking at the dirty floor, the sato saw greasy, violet stains in some of the depressions on the floor. After looking closely, he discovered they were blood stains. How had they come there? Some previous occupant, perhaps?

  Sitting helplessly inside the cell, he had nothing to distract him from thoughts of possible tortures that had been devised for prisoners during their sentence. And when he looked out into the gloomy corridor, he now noticed similar blood stains all over the floor, screaming miserable tales of tortures.

  ‘Mahona tiyun kuil fugnes isfu heli Komayo ornakul,’ the sato wondered, in his native Fenayaki. What could have caused such terrible bloodshed inside the prison? He scratched his itching feet.

  Guards could have been beating the prisoners in there, though he hadn’t as yet witnessed any prisoner being tortured. The foul smell seemed all-pervading in this place, but it was not the smell of blood, it was more like the smell of a fetid bug. Tired of inaction, he moved aside from his place, and started checking every depression on the floor, poking his fingers into the deeper ones.

  ‘What’s this ugly thing!’ he yelled, leaping on his feet. He was holding a thick flesh shred that stank beyond imagination. It must had been rotting in the cell for quite a long time. Terrifying thoughts raced through his brain —what if he died in Carcerem, what if he could never return to Hydus, his home.

  Ariet threw the stinky shred away to the side, as far away from himself as possible in the sealed cell. He would have to get used to this life, he thought, closing the shutters of his eyes in disgust. He would likely be here a very long time. For the thousandth time, he cursed himself for not following the exact orders from MOX, wiping his hand compulsively on his brown gaban, the tight skirt, made of rubber, which covered the middle part of his body from neck to knees.

  Time bled away and it was evening. Ritual sounds echoed in Carcerem. Some prisoners woke from sleep, then snoozed again. The rituals were dedicated to “Manosim Ornociya Xonik” aka MOX, the regime on Tomarkus. After a time, they faded, and were replaced by a high-pitched siren, the kind of which Ariet hadn’t heard before. He pushed himself back, frightened, as the cells started opening one after another. His heart pounded hard against his chest. Was it a malfunction, the sato worried, as he saw prisoners aggressively emerging from their cells. He started sweating, but nobody paid any attention to his cell where he lay in a fetal position, folded like a beaten pet. The crowd hobbled towards the murky end of the corridor, their severely wounded feet painting the hallway in fresh violet.

  Ariet had by then already understood the role of uneven floor in torturing prisoners, and his eyes narrowed in sympathy. He came out of cell and tentatively followed the crowd, which was disappearing into the dark. All the cells he passed were empty, save for a few whose inmates slept like the dead, even the crowd’s noise not interrupting their slumber.

  What was happening? Chasing the crowd, he had come close to the gloomy end, where he saw a kiro, a female fugit, sitting alone in her cell. She seemed lost. Her head was lowered between her legs, but her bright skin glowed exceptionally in the dim light.

  The sato froze for a moment, his mouth open, staring at the kiro’s bright skin. It had been years since he had seen any kiro and he was tempted to approach her, perhaps even touch her feathery, soft skin.

  For satos, kiros were like witches, who flew away to some unknown place once they grew up. Vague memories from his childhood flashed before Ariet—memories of living with kiros on the same storey, touching their bright, silky skin. He stepped closer and saw that she was crying softly. The reason was apparent to him: her feet were in a very bad shape. Seeing her tears drip on her gaban, his heart went out to her.

  ‘Hey there! Do you need some help?’ he asked. She looked up. Her chiseled features, ivory skin and the blue core in her green eyes took his breath away. Somehow, her presence made even the thought of living in this prison seem tolerable. Before he could offer a hand, she had pulled herself up grabbing his gaban.

  She gave him a small smile, and he realised he had been staring at her.

  ‘Thanks for the help,’ she said politely. Then, she noticed that the crowd had already disappeared, and she grew pale. �
��Are you getting late for something?’ Ariet

  asked, noting the urgency on her face. ‘Yeah, for the repast’ she replied. His eyes widened in understanding. So that was what the mad rush was for. Having starved for nearly half the day, his mouth salivated at the thought of food.

  ‘I’m starving too. Could I join you?’

  He helped her through the eerie, dark corridor, and reached the Cibum-hall. The congested, dingy hall was like an underground rat colony, with food tubes hanging from a complex web of pipes attached to the ceiling, and prisoners greedily slurping from whichever tube they could reach.

  The sato and kiro roamed from corner to corner in search of free tubes, and at last found two, not far from each other. The tubes were very old and had swelled over time; Ariet had trouble fitting his into his mouth. But finally he managed to suck a mouthful of the liquid, a mixture of plant stem which contained carbohydrates and minerals mixed in water. No wonder the green from everyone's eyes had faded, drinking this mineral deficient diet. Ariet spat out the first the horrible, pungent-smelling fluid, but his hunger soon won over his disgust and he drank as best as he could.

  Suddenly, the same shrieking siren sounded again, and all at once, the prisoners abandoned the food tubes and rushed headlong back to the corridor, pushing and colliding with others in a violent stampede. Ariet lost sight of the kiro in the melee.

  ‘Kiro!’ he shouted. ‘Kiro….!’ He realised he did not even know her name.

  He waded into the crowd, continuing to shout for her. What if she got run over in the stampede! His heart pounded against his chest at the thought. He remained in the hall till it was almost empty. Some prisoners who had been trampled underfoot lay on the ground, dead or moaning weakly. Those who could continued trying to crawl towards the exit. There was no trace of the kiro amongst them. He ran out into the corridor.

  That’s when he saw what was happening. The cells were closing one after the other. ‘This is not good,’ he thought, instinctively, rushing down the corridor, hunting desperately for a cell that was still open. He swooped into one, moments before it closed, and stood there heaving, frightened and bewildered. That’s when the screaming started.