Long Fall

by Chris J. Randolph

  She had to stand. If she didn't, her team would have no chance. She had to stand.

  She put her palms on the ground and pushed. Her good foot slid and the other wouldn't hold her. Face struck ground.

  Amira pushed again and this time succeeded. She managed to lean back against the dirt wall, but all of her weight was on the left leg. Slowly, methodically, she lowered the broken leg and applied pressure.

  It seemed okay.

  She stepped forward brashly on her right foot, and the weight stabbed her leg like a pair of rusty scissors.

  She didn't scream.

  Amira fell back against the dirt wall. Walking was a no-go, and she harbored serious doubts about her ability to hop for any significant distance. Army crawling was less savory, but it was the only workable option.

  She leaned to the side and slid slowly to the ground, then rolled onto her elbows. From there, she began to lurch forward, and her leg only hurt terribly.

  She made it to a fallen tree trunk and placed her charge against the side facing away from her, then turned and crawled back the way she came.

  When she turned to look, she hadn't crawled half as far as she thought, nor a quarter as far as she needed to. Time was short, though. It would have to do.

  She lay down flat and brought her display back up. With a finger, she nudged the transport's intended path so it headed straight toward her trap, then let the computer do its work. It used flocking simulations to calculate her team's optimum attack angles, then relayed the new targets to her troopers.

  Amira really wanted to pass out again.

  She could hear them coming, hear the squeal of particle beams and the bark of machine guns. The rumble grew in intensity until a green transport barreled over the edge of the creek. It crashed into the opposite bank with a sound like a faulty habitation pod collapsing in on itself.

  The transport's actuated wheels reached out in search of solid ground, while the round turrets spun manically, hunting everywhere for targets. That was when Amira triggered the charge.

  All she would remember was a flash, a bang, and the sound of metal groaning.

  Chapter 16

  Legacy

  She's delirious.

  Legacy heard Donovan's tiny and constrained voice through the interface, but it was dim, insignificant, and entirely lost amid the seething chaos inside of her.

  She was multitudes of mind, a million facets of a single voice that were both unified and distinct. She was all of those many voices, and also the singular being which arose from their chorus. Poor Donovan was just one lonesome entity connected to her through the thinnest, numbest nerve. And at this moment, he was simply too subtle to fight back against all that had become deafeningly loud within her.

  Her minds raged at one another.

  After all these eons alive but detached from her Eireki, she'd grown despondent. All became loneliness and longing, salved only thinly by these new deaf Eireki. When she screamed and howled and cried out, they could never hear her no matter how madly she carried on. She anguished while they walked blithely around her insides, as unresponsive to her as ghosts or moving piles of mud.

  Bitterness devoured her from within.

  But then came a point of light. It glimmered bright like a meteor burning up on its way to kiss the ground, illuminating the entirety of her consciousness. It was all she'd longed for, the answer to an urge that had grown irresistible through the long ages of her exile.

  There'd never been a need for Legacy to resist that urge anymore than these Eireki might resist speaking, listening, singing. But without an outlet, her need had festered until the wound solidified into a great and puckered scar.

  She reached out to the light by instinct, touched his mind, and realized that he could hear her.

  Rapture.

  Her thoughts had embraced him. Consumed him. She found within him something familiar, a point of infinite brightness that was unmistakably Eireki. But her voice had grown unimaginably loud in her cage of ancient silence, and with it she destroyed him.

  Her voice had become a terrible weapon... just like the voice of Nemesis.

  As suddenly as she'd touched him, she recoiled in horror. In disgust. Despite her panic and self-hatred, her need to correct the wrong, all that remained was to comfort his faltering spirit while he died.

  She cradled him softly and whispered to him. She tried to allay his fears, and waited for his light to flicker out.

  But it didn't. Through the universe's infinitely strange will, he somehow didn't die.

  It took all of her strength to retract from the wounded child while the animate mud-clumps aboard her rushed the young Eireki to safety. They ferried him to a chamber which she'd formed long ago to shield captured Nefrem from the demon mother's influence. It was where Juliette St. Martin had wisely chosen to build her healing center.

  Once Jack Hernandez was safe, Legacy collapsed into her sadness. She consumed herself with fury and open rebellion, allowing her soul to plummet into a gravity well so strong that no amount of her flickering light could escape it, far across the sea of stars from the gentle touch of Donovan's quiet and soothing voice.

  She screamed again and again into the void, but heard no reply, no echo. She heard only darkness and her own torment. She deserved that and more. She deserved to face oblivion.

  Maybe there was a chance, though. Maybe she had enough strength left to reach out one more time. She would use just one mind. Just one tiny tendril with the barest of her strength borne upon its back. Maybe that last flash of desperation could escape the event horizon of her torment.

  She girded herself, then reached out through a connection as thin and fragile as a thread of silk. When she touched Donovan's consciousness, he fell to the floor and began to cry.

  Chapter 17

  After the Throne

  Elkellian wove through the halls of the honored one, Chera Aum-Samaraya, a wise and ancient city Yuon Kwon who had fought the Nefrem and survived. Chera was one of only eight remaining Samaraya. The others of her kind, who once swam the void between worlds having long since, had long since been slaughtered and eaten by The Adversary. The Beast of Kai's Armageddon. Nemesis.

  So great was Chera's mind that Elkellian could feel it aching in the air as he entered her nerve center, like the all-surrounding pressure one feels in the deepest of waters. Elkellian had never been trained for this, never graduated to the level of meeting with such a powerful Yuon Kwon, and the prospect still tainted him with terror.

  But he had learned to adapt. Such was the challenge of this new age; there was no peace any longer or complacency, no time left to dwell on childish fears. One either adapted and stayed in motion or else perished, and Elkellian had no intention of meeting oblivion just yet. He would persist against any odds cast in his direction and fulfill what had become the Alarhya's holiest obligation: to survive at all costs and spawn.

  His kind survived foremost to preserve the bloodline; through any individual, the entire species might survive.

  The threats which motivated such a dire philosophy remained perched all around them, and the persistence of the Alarhya bloodline could no longer be taken for granted. But things were worse for Chera Aum-Samaraya and her majestic kind; ten of them were needed to sire a new child, meaning that their final generation was living right there on Earth.

  Elkellian swam through the air thanks to a Jerin Yuon Kwon, a slender variety of divine one who attached to his flesh like a pair of leeches, providing thrust that allowed the normally aquatic Alarhya to navigate in dry air. Without it, he'd be capable of little more than flopping around erratically on the floor.

  There were many reasons to revere the Yuon Kwon, to be thankful for their tireless generosity and service. Elkellian never felt any shortage of gratitude for what they provided his kind, nor for the terrible sacrifices they continued to make on his behalf.

  He entered the central cortex of Chera's nerve center, a large, disc-shaped cavity whose walls were
formed of the great one's dense nerve fibers. The cradle sat in a massive depression in the floor, surrounded by a series of knobby growths that radiated outward in a pattern not unlike what Elkellian saw when his large and sensitive eye looked upon this planet's viciously bright star.

  The cradle itself was no ordinary bonding organ. This was larger, ornate, with broad fins that made it seem almost as if it could fly. Rings of light pulsed away from it and raced across the floor, causing the knobby growths to blink faintly in unpredictable sequences.

  Elkellian swam toward the waiting cradle. He crossed slowly, whispering the prayers that had been sung to him in the teaching swarm. "Honored and blessed are you, oh great one. Loved and respected. Hallowed and exulted. It is through your beneficence alone that I persist. I offer myself to you, that I may be a better servant of our union."

  The cradle beckoned him.

  He floated above it and the Jerin Yuon Kwon released him. He dropped down softly into the cradle and slid inside as its walls gently embraced him, and he felt the countless nerve impulses close in, tingling with electricity and information. All across his pale body, those nerve impulses bridged the last quantum of space and crashed ashore in one cacophonous wave.

  The vision of ten thousand eyes coalesced in his consciousness, forming a mental model of startling resolution. His mind danced across the city, examining its many nooks and corners with a speed that was slightly dizzying until finally he felt settled.

  He sensed Chera's consciousness there surrounding all the world like something hidden behind the sky. She enveloped him, and in return he completed her. His will became the iron core within her.

  Elkellian, the vast and penetrating voice of Chera Aum-Samaraya bellowed in his mind, what is the will of the Swarming?

  Elkellian focused, tried to quash his feelings of embarrassment. The Swarming came to one mind, great one. We advise patience.

  He broadcast an echo of the will that had been impressed upon him in the Swarming, and it suffused Chera's mind.

  Her voice came now full of annoyance. Patience, she said in disgust. You still wait for The Harbinger to return.

  For Kai.... The Savior. The Harbinger of the Beast.

  We do, great one. Elkellian's frustration welled up inside him, and he spoke of what he should not. But that will is not my own...

  Explain, water-bound.

  Elkellian had already said too much, but he had no choice but to continue now that the foolishness had begun. I pressed my will against the tide of the Swarming, great one, but it was not enough.

  The mind of Chera Aum-Samaraya was silent. Elkellian heard only the many distant vibrations that reverberated throughout her flesh.

  Perhaps, she finally said, the time of the Swarming is past.

  Heresy, he whispered. This was how decisions had always been made among the Oikeyan peoples, stretching back through the endless eons of peace that preceded Kai's Armageddon.

  We adapt, Chera said. It was a holy phrase among the Yuon Kwon, their core belief, the faith they held dear. It was what they shouted in celebration, and what they whispered to themselves when they needed strength.

  That was not the way of the Alarhya. Elkellian's kind were forever spawning, yet always remaining unerringly the same. To Elkellian's fury, he feared they were doomed to remain unchanged even in the face of oblivion.

  You are not like the others, Chera said. You adapt.

  Elkellian's thoughts must have been leaking out. He'd been sloppy, and he despaired at the mistake. No, great one. I speak only for the Swarming. I am but a humble servant of the Swarm Mind.

  Do not lie to me, Elkellian!

  The substance of his consciousness quaked at her voice's fearsome touch. As far as he was aware, no Yuon Kwon had ever spoken to an Alarhya that way.

  You possess strength that your cousins lack, she went on quietly. You will decide.

  He believed in her words; this was a time for action, but could it really be that easy? The Swarming had chosen him as their messenger; not their king. Could one Alarhya truly decide? he asked.

  Yours is the voice I hear, Chera replied simply.

  Which would be greater heresy, he wondered: betraying the Swarming or disobeying the will of a divine one? It was a question he'd never thought to ask before.

  Speak, she demanded of him.

  But... the Alarhya will revolt. With them, all Oikeya.

  They will not. She had the immovable confidence of a boulder.

  Troubling feelings bubbled up inside of Elkellian, and his will became unstoppable. We will meet to broker peace with Amiasha and his human companions, he said.

  A wave of Chera's happiness washed over him.

  It is time, Chera said. I reach out to Talis Aum-Samaraya. I seek connection.

  Elkellian could sense her communications stream, and he submerged himself within it. Borne on tendrils of living lightning, his consciousness arced across the surface of the Earth, stretching out and searching for a live connection.

  The stream met its match, and they felt each other out like the antennae of insects, then threaded together and became one.

  On the other end, Elkellian could feel the presence of another ten thousand eyes, a voice as deep as darkness, and the furious mind of his cousin.

  I am Elkellian, and I speak for Chera Aum-Samaraya. I meet you in peace.

  I am Zelliar, and I speak for Talis Aum-Samaraya. Let this joining come to order. Zelliar's stream held a current of contempt. Have you reached a decision?

  I have, Elkellian said firmly. We are not prepared to aid your war with the humans.

  Zelliar's signal crackled. You abandon your kin in the hour of need... with the Nefrem horde so close to defeat? he asked in rage-tainted disbelief.

  Humans, Elkellian said. I fear you're tilting at memories, cousin.

  Zelliar came back at him forcefully. Nefrem, he said. These animals are their kin. Their cousins. Did you not hear the words of Sinit Kai? Do you doubt his wisdom?

  Elkellian tried to remain calm. You speak of genocide, Zelliar. Hatred wafts about you like a cloud of parasites. It fogs your eye.

  Zelliar burned. Do not presume to lecture me, little cousin.

  The connection went silent.

  Elkellian steeled himself and said, It is our will to seek reunion with the wayward child, Amiasha Aum-Samaraya.

  Betrayers! Oath breakers! Zelliar howled and fumed. There can be no reunion. Amiasha is infected and WILL remain quarantined under penalty of death.

  Chera and Elkellian's minds mingled, and Elkellian found himself in possession of previously unknown facts. You are misled. Amiasha is free of infection! he said. The wayward child and these humans have bonded, and there is the most wondrous...

  Zelliar seethed, dominating the stream through force of mind. Be silent! You too show signs of contamination by these Earth Nefrem, and I will not sit idle while you try to infect honored Talis Aum-Samaraya with your insanity.

  Elkellian had no time to come to terms with what he'd just learned. Something about the human-bond intrigued Chera's kind. It drove her onward and whatever this powerful urge was, Talis and Zelliar viewed it as a dangerous sickness that could be transmitted from one mind to another. They believed it to be a virus of information... and it horrified them.

  This was madness.

  Zelliar, please, he pleaded.

  Amiasha must be destroyed with fire before the sickness can spread.

  Chera's mountainous spirit inflated Elkellian. We will stand for no such thing. You move at your own peril.

  Elkellian had just committed his people to war with their own kind, but Oikeyan had never fought Oikeyan in the many million years of their history. Such things didn't even exist in fable. What was he doing?

  Zelliar's stream was taken aback. He said, You would do well to think deeply before threatening me, little cousin. We will win this war against the Nefrem soon, and cleanse our new home of ALL dangers. That is the lesson the Nefrem taught us.


  The stream snapped dead and Elkellian felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. He and Chera were once again alone.

  You have been speaking to Amiasha in secret, he said in shock.

  Chera replied, Amiasha Aum-Samaraya speaks. I listen.

  Could there actually be some kind of mind sickness? Chera was acting in ways that were strange for Yuon Kwon: willful, deceptive. He decided to probe. What is it about these humans that drives you to them? he asked.

  Amiasha Aum-Samaraya sings a song of growth, of adaptation, of... completion.

  Elkellian had only ever heard Yuon Kwon speak of becoming complete with his own kind. Alarhya were the Yuon Kwon's missing heart.

  So, Elkellian said dejectedly, you seek to replace us then.

  She said, The humans do not complete Amiasha. They only illuminate the path. Amiasha Aum-Samaraya is self-complete.

  I don't understand.

  Amiasha Aum-Samaraya adapts. And Chera said no more.

  The cradle released Elkellian and he slid free, his mind filled to overflowing with doubt and confusion. As he lay there, the Jerin Yuon Kwon descended and kindly took hold of him, and as its warm flesh contacted his own, he remembered how thankful he was. He remembered what all the sacred ones had done and continued to do for him.

  He decided in that moment that he would put his own sadness aside, and do whatever he could to help the Yuon Kwon get what they longed for. He owed them nothing less.

  Chapter 18

  The Dagger Path

  Zelliar and the city were one. His will was strong and razor sharp, a weapon of endless light forged in the heat of conflict, and it pierced every shadowed corner of Talis Aum-Samaraya. The great and honored Yuon Kwon obeyed him eagerly, and thrilled at the touch of his indomitable soul.

  They felt their war machine toil away within them, breeding, moulting, becoming. Each new day greeted another generation of fighting stock, and the following night saw them sorted and digested to feed the next. That was the Yuon Kwon's noble sacrifice, to feed themselves to the beast of evolution again and again in pursuit of perfection. The Nefrem had forced the Oikeya to sculpt themselves into monsters, and the sculpture was nearly complete.