Alien Shadows

by Daniel Arenson

  Steel unconsciously clenched his fists.

  In the room, behind a thick stone desk, sat Lord Kerish Rosetta.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  THE ASYLUM

  Kerish Rosetta, warden of the Holy Knights of Sol Asylum, was a beefy man with pink jowls, a barrel chest, and a yellow mustache. His eyes were small, blue, and shrewd, his nose bulbous and veined. He wore a fine suit of plate armor filigreed with gold, and his sword hung at his side.

  The chamber was as stern and austere as the warden. A golden sunburst hung upon the wall, sigil of the Knights of Sol. Portraits of the great knights of old frowned from picture frames—haggard, mustached men with eyes that moved to glare at those who looked upon them. Two taweret guards stood around Lord Kerish, helmets on their hippo heads, their breastplates jeweled.

  As the Alien Hunters entered the chamber, Sir Kerish slowly placed down the quill he was holding. When Steel stared at the scroll on the desk, he saw that Kerish had just signed an inmate's death warrant.

  "Father!" Lenora said. "I've come for your help."

  Fire kindled in Kerish's eyes. His cheeks flushed and his mustache bristled.

  "How dare you walk into this place?" he hissed.

  Lenora sucked in breath and raised her chin. "I am your daughter! I—"

  "Silence!" Kerish roared. He leaped to his feet, surprisingly fast for a man of his girth. His chair crashed down behind him. "I was not speaking to you, child." Slowly, he turned those burning eyes toward Steel. "How dare this vagabond, this heretic, this sinner, this wretched space scum step upon holy ground?"

  Steel had expected this. He had fought bloodthirsty skelkrins, beasts of claws and fangs with unending appetite for human death. He had faced the armies of the Singularity, killer robots bent on cosmic domination. He had faced ghosts and watched his friends fall to their darkness. He had carried the pain of his banishment for so long, and so much new pain weighed upon him, that Steel had not thought Kerish could still hurt him.

  Yet those words dug into his chest like dull daggers.

  "There is nothing holy about what goes on within these walls." Steel raised his chin. "The Knights of Sol took vows to defend the galaxy. Not to play god on alien planets. Holy ground?" Steel shook his head. "The only holy ground to me is the Earth I swore to defend. The Earth I came here to fight for."

  Lord Kerish drew his sword. He pointed the blade at Steel. "You are no knight! Your vows are worthless. Just like you are. You swore to serve the knighthood, yet you challenged my leadership, you—"

  "I challenged your leadership out of love for the knighthood!" Steel said. "You were consorting with the Cosmian Order, a race of alien-worshippers who would have seen the skelkrins conquer the Earth. What did the Cosmians promise you, Kerish? A palace over the ruins? A kingdom of ash? You might have torn off my sigil, Sir Kerish, but the only one to forsake his vows is you."

  Kerish roared and swung his blade.

  Steel drew his own sword and parried.

  The blades slammed together, showering sparks. The taweret guards opened their jaws wide, bellowed, and prepared to thrust their spears. Riff raised his gun and Giga drew her katana.

  "Enough!"

  The voice rang through the chamber, deafening. Steel turned, surprised to see that it was Lenora who had shouted so loudly. Clutching her skirt, the scientist stared around with narrowed eyes.

  "Enough," she repeated, voice softer now. "We've not come here to fight you, Father." She stepped toward the beefy man and pulled down his sword. "This is no time to resurrect old grievances. A danger spreads across the cosmos. The shades have destroyed the observatory at Kaperosa, and they attack the Earth, crumbling cities, haunting the ruins. Father . . . we believe that Dee has information about them. That he can help." Her voice dropped further, becoming almost a whisper. "We've come to see him."

  Kerish's rage did not abate. If anything, his daughter's words seemed to stoke the fire in his eyes. He pointed a finger at Lenora. It shook with fury. The knight's jowls were now practically crimson.

  "Yes, I know of these shades. Creatures from a higher dimension. It is Dee's work that summoned these demons. For years, the boy has been studying what he calls the fourth dimension, speaking of traveling into that realm. I locked him in this prison to keep that heresy in check. Yet I was too late. The demons are summoned. Now they swarm across the cosmos." Kerish bared his small, sharp teeth. "And you want to help him, Lenora? No. I will not allow it. Dee will remain in his cell, alone, where he will rot. He will never harm another soul."

  Lenora gasped. "Father! Dee is a scientist. He's not to blame. He can help! If you're looking to blame someone, blame me." She lowered her head. "I was studying the black hole from which the creatures emerged. If anything, it was my poking that prodded them. Please, Father." She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please. For me. For your daughter. Let me speak to your son."

  "I have no son!" Kerish roared, shoving her back. "I will hear no more of this. Leave! Leave this world now, before I have you all arrested."

  The hippo-headed guards stepped forth. One grabbed Riff with massive hands the size of hams. Another grabbed Lenora. Both struggled, crying out. Steel shouted that he would not step aside, not without a duel to the death, and Lenora cried out about the shades, and Riff threatened to blast the prison apart, and all the while Kerish swore to sign their death warrants right here and now.

  Finally, it was Giga whose cry drowned the other voices.

  "Article fifty-seven, section G!" she cried.

  Kerish froze, mustache bristling. "What?" he demanded.

  The android shoved herself free from the guards who held her. "Article fifty-seven, section G," she repeated and smoothed her kimono. "In the Humanoid Alliance Charter concerning the dealings with interstellar prisoners. The charter that still binds you to Earth rules." Giga smiled. "The clause clearly specifies that no prisoner shall be kept in solitary confinement for longer than thirty days." She tilted her head. "Didn't you say that he's been in solitary for years now? In fact, scanning the prison's systems . . ." Metallic clicks rose from her. "Dee Rosetta, Prisoner 43712, has been kept in solitary confinement for 957 days now. In clear violation of article fifty-seven, section G."

  They all gaped at her.

  "Well, I'll be," Riff whispered.

  Giga looked at him. "Sorry, Captain. You told me no more infodump. Did I do bad?"

  "You did wonderfully." Riff turned toward Kerish. "Well, what of it? We have here a clear violation of Humanoid Alliance law. Dear Giga here—she's an android, in case you haven't noticed—has a continuous connection to cyberspace's major blogs and news sources. You wouldn't want her to send out a press release about these little infractions, would you? I'd hate to see the Humanoid Alliance bureaucrats launch an investigation. Terrible amount of paperwork. Trust me, I know. We break their laws all the time."

  Sir Kerish finally found the air to speak. His words blustered out with a spray of saliva. "Are you blackmailing me, boy?"

  Riff wiped off his face. "Say it, don't spray it. And yes. I am blackmailing you. Thought that was obvious, really. Surprised you had to ask."

  Lenora stepped forward before Kerish could attack again. She spoke softly. "Father, please. Just let us see Dee this one time. Let us talk to him. For Earth, Father. To save the cosmos. Help us fight these demons."

  Kerish's mustache drooped. He seemed torn between his pride and the knowledge that he had lost. Finally he sucked in his gut, thrust out his chest, and raised his chin.

  "Very well. I still have a soft spot for my daughter, it seems. I find it difficult to refuse her. For you, Lenora, I will agree to a short visit. My guards will take you to see your brother. But after your visit, you will leave this planet. Forever."

  As the companions left the office, Steel glanced back at Sir Kerish, and he glimpsed pure hatred in the man's eyes. There was murder in those eyes. But those eyes weren't staring at Steel for once.

  Clen
ching his fists and grinding his teeth, Sir Kerish was staring at Giga.

  * * * * *

  Surrounded by guards, Lenora and the Alien Hunters walked down craggy tunnels, plunging deep into the prison pyramid.

  They left the great chamber of cells above. They delved into the dungeons, moving through corridors and stairways that drove deep into the darkness. Torches crackled on the walls, lighting frescos depicting ancient starcrafts exploring distant worlds, gods with the heads of animals, and aliens with twisting necks and the heads of monkeys.

  Countless guards filled the place. Tawerets with hippo heads stood everywhere, armed with guns and spears. Women with the heads of jackals patrolled the halls, their scimitars bright. Silent warriors in white linen, men and women with the heads of hawks, stared with gleaming yellow eyes, holding khopeshes. Crocodiles growled on leashes. War monkeys wore spiked armor. Finally, overseeing the natives, Knights of Sol—the human masters—stood in polished steel, swords in their hands.

  Every staircase, chamber, and corridor was filled with these soldiers. An entire army buried inside the pyramid.

  There must be hundreds of warriors here, Riff thought as they keep walking deeper into the crypt. How dangerous has Dee Rosetta become to need so many guards?

  Again, Riff thought back to his youth. He remembered the scrawny, brainy boy the other kids would pick on. In one memory, a few neighborhood children had hollowed out a chocolate bar, filled it with salt, and given it to Dee to eat. The spectacled boy had accepted the treat with glee, eaten it all, and hadn't seemed to even notice the salt; he had just been glad to find friends.

  Riff sighed. And now he's buried in this pit, an army of knights and Ancient Egyptian aliens guarding him. Probably thinks they're his friends too.

  After walking what seemed like kilometers, the corridors finally ended at a stone doorway. Several guards stood here, thin men with the heads of cobras.

  "Enter," hissed one guard. His forked tongue flicked. "Enter and speak to the prisoner. You have ten minutesss."

  The guards got to unlocking the cell. First they spun a massive gear the size of a man. The door opened, only to reveal a second door. The guards then unlocked a hundred small padlocks, and the second door opened too, revealing a third door. Here, upon the stone, were engraved ancient runes. The guards chanted prayers, the runes glowed, and the third door creaked open. Asps in baskets guarded a fourth door; they were soothed only when the guards chanted soft songs. Riff counted ten more doors, each secured with a lock or trap, before finally an inner door made of iron blades dilated, revealing a shadowy chamber.

  "Step inside," hissed the serpentine guard.

  Riff nodded. "Might not want to close all the doors while we're in there, or we'll be inside for ten hours instead of ten minutes."

  He entered the cell. Steel, Lenora, and Giga followed. One of the doors clanked shut behind them.

  Riff stared around and gasped.

  "Shenanigans," he whispered.

  A bed, a small desk, and a television set stood in the room. The TV was showing a rerun of Space Galaxy, Riff's favorite show—a classic episode where the captain fought a reptilian humanoid. The walls were built of the same bricks as the rest of the pyramid, but instead of hieroglyphs or murals, countless mathematical equations covered them, drawn with chalk.

  "No, no, this is wrong," rose a voice from under the bed. "You're supposed to grab him by the neck. The neck! Not the head. Everyone knows reptilians have thick skulls. The neck, damn it! Oh . . . too late." On the television set, the reptile broke free and tossed the captain into a gorge. "Every damn time. You'll never learn."

  Riff peeked under the bed. The shadowy figure of a man lay there on his stomach, watching the show.

  "Hello," Riff said.

  "Shh!"

  "Sorry." Riff closed his mouth.

  "Not you," said the prisoner. "That damn Captain Carter. He shouldn't be talking on his communicator. Doesn't he know the Raelians are approaching? I've watched this episode a thousand times, and he never learns."

  "He'll get away at the end," Riff said. "He'll escape through the caves, fight off the stone creatures, and sneak back onto the Lodestar."

  The prisoner turned toward Riff, and his eyes widened. "You like Space Galaxy too?"

  Riff pointed at his T-shirt which bore the show's logo. "Seen every episode."

  The man leaped out from under the bed. His hair was ruffled, and his glasses perched crookedly upon his nose. Dee Rosetta looked the same as always.

  "Riff Starfire!" he said. "I know your face."

  "Dee Rosetta," Riff said with a smile.

  Dee turned toward the others and gasped. "Steel Starfire! And . . . Lenora, my sister!" He shook their hands emphatically, then turned toward Giga. "And what have we here? Hmm . . ." He tapped the android's cheek. "Human Interface Android. Class T, model 75 . . . B?"

  Giga smiled sweetly. "75 C-i, sir."

  "The C-i! Of course!" Dee hopped for joy. "I worked on your vocal chords, did you know? Back before they locked me up in this joint. Sing me a scale."

  "Happy to comply!" Giga sang a little tune.

  Dee clapped. "Beautiful! Lovely. Happy to comply! That was my idea for a catch phrase, did you know? Programmed it right into all the 75 models." He turned toward Lenora. "You don't suppose Father would let me have a Class T 75er in here, would he? Even the older models, the dumb ones that don't say much." He sighed. "It sure gets lonely in here. By the stars . . . how long has it been?"

  Tears shone in Lenora's eyes. She stepped closer and embraced her little brother. "Too long, Dee. Too long."

  He held her awkwardly for a moment, then leaped back and jumped into the air. "No, no!" he shouted at the television. "You're not supposed to fire your photons! Don't you know their shields can soak them up?"

  Keeping his eyes glued to the television, Dee sat on his bed. One episode ended and another began.

  "Dee . . ." Lenora spoke softly and wrapped her arms around her brother again. "We don't have long. We came here for your help. We need to—"

  "To build a four-dimensional engine, one capable of transporting a three-dimensional starship into the higher plane, allowing you to combat creatures who appear as ghosts in our world." Dee kept watching his show. "Should be possible to do by bending spacetime as a Euclidian space rather than a relative space, essentially the same concept as a hyperspace engine only applying geometrical formulas to the warping of the external fabric."

  "Yes. I think." Lenora narrowed her eyes. "How did you know?"

  "Damn it, man!" Dee leaped to his feet. "Every damn time, you let that girl onto the ship. Can't you see from her glowing eyes that she's an Orianite who's only after your minerals?" He sighed and turned toward Lenora. "Why else would you be here? Building such an engine has been my life's work. Even harder to do than the vocal chords of an android. It's all on the walls, if you'd like to build one yourself."

  Dee gestured at the thousands of mathematical formulas scribbled across the cell.

  "Two minutes left!" boomed a voice from outside.

  Riff winced. "Does anyone have a camera?"

  Steel shook his head. "Not me. Lenora? Giga?"

  The android smiled. "I do have a photographic memory, sir. But I don't understand these calculations well enough to build the engine myself. Piston might take a stab at it, but—"

  "Piston?" Dee said. "Who's that?"

  Giga tilted her head. "Our gruffle engineer, sir. He—"

  "Engineer?" Dee scoffed. "No no, my little siren of the beautiful voice. No engineer can build such an engine. Don't you have a Euclidian multiple dimensionalist aboard your vessel?"

  They all shook their heads.

  Dee sighed. "Well then, I'll have to build the engine myself."

  "One minute!" boomed the voice from outside.

  Riff cringed. "Can you build one within a minute? Ideally small enough to fit into my pocket?"

  Dee considered. "Possibly. Hmm. Maybe not within a m
inute, though. How big are your pockets?"

  "Thirty seconds!"

  Steel groaned. "So this was all for nothing?"

  Dee cracked his neck. "Well, I suppose we'll have to escape then." He walked toward the television set, pushed it aside, and revealed a gaping tunnel. "We can crawl through here. Should take us right out to freedom."

  Lenora's eyes widened and she gasped. "What—a tunnel! You had a tunnel all along? Why didn't you escape then?"

  Dee shrugged. "Just completed it this morning. Wanted to finish watching my Space Galaxy episodes first. Good timing."

  Behind them, the cell doors began to clank as the guards worked at unlocking them.

  Riff stepped toward the tunnel. "Dee, go! You enter first."

  "But this episode just started and—"

  "Go!" Riff grabbed the man and shoved him into the tunnel. Steel, Lenora, and Giga followed. Riff leaped into the tunnel last, pulling the television back into place before he slid down, plunging into darkness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

  THE GOLDEN SCARAB

  Romy swayed her hips on stage, her belt of coins jingling. She wore her serpent tiara, bracelets jangled around her arms, and she had painted on thick mascara, giving herself Eyes of Ra. In her hand, she shook a timbrel.

  "I am Pharaoh Romy, ancient seductress of the orient!" she announced.

  Across the tavern, the crowd roared their approval.

  The Scarab's Lair was a small tavern, not much larger than Romy's attic back on the Dragon Huntress. Hieroglyphs were painted onto the walls, featuring hawks, snakes, ibises, sphinxes, and many other characters—an ancient comic strip, Romy surmised. Stone jugs stood behind the bar, full of ale and wine, and peacock feathers rose from obsidian vases.

  A hundred people or more crowded the place. Alien musicians—men with the heads of crocodiles—sat on the stage behind Romy, playing drums and harps. Serving girls with jackal heads moved through the chamber, clad in white tunics hemmed with golden coins, pouring wine from silver vessels. Taweret soldiers in bronze armor, beefy men with hippo heads, waved tankards of ale at the dancing Romy, hooting.