Worlds Away (The Interstellar Age Book 3)

by Daniels, Valmore

  Backing away from the glass, Justine felt the terror growing in her. She had no idea how much torture she could endure, and didn’t know if the sonic attack was the limit of what they could do to her.

  She wasn’t about to give up Red Spot to them. Even though she was a Kulsat, she’d demonstrated that not all of their kind had the same disregard for life as Three Crescents or Long Fingers. Red Spot had grieved for the death of Green Stripe, even though their society had labeled him a Deficient. She had also put her trust in Justine not to betray her.

  Three Crescents typed something. “Discomfort will begin now.”

  The familiar hum of the sonic attack filled the tank, and before Justine could yell out at curse at Three Crescents, she doubled over in pain.

  The torture went on for some time…

  ∞

  At one point, Justine began to wish her tormentor would just finish her off and put an end to the agony. She was certain the sonic blasts had caused some internal damage. The low-wave attacks made her vomit, and the high-pitched sonics left her dizzy and disoriented.

  When she felt a trickle of blood leak out from one ear, she yelled at Three Crescents in frustration. “How can I hear your questions if I’m deaf?”

  The sonic blasts ceased, but the ringing in her ears continued. Even through that, she heard Three Crescents’ next question.

  “You are prepared to cooperate? Please identify the traitor.”

  She shrugged. “I can’t tell. You all look the same to me.”

  “Describe distinguishing marks.”

  Justine found it difficult to concentrate, and felt nauseated, but she had to keep delaying Three Crescents. Every minute she stalled him was another minute for Alex and the others to get farther away.

  She said, “I don’t know. He had a green stripe running down one arm.”

  “Deception. That Deficient has expired.” Three Crescents typed for a few moments. “You have provided verification that your kind are an imminent threat to the Kulsat and must be eliminated. Once you are all removed from existence, we will investigate your world for the final component.”

  “No, you can’t do that,” Justine said. “Why won’t you listen to reason?”

  “Identify the traitor.”

  Justine shook her head. “There is no traitor.”

  “You have displayed the willingness to endure discomfort to protect conspirators, though they are not your species. Should conspirators no longer exist, you will have no reason to withhold cooperation.”

  He turned around and signed to one of the other Kulsat floating just outside the laboratory’s entranceway. That Kulsat swam away in a rush.

  Within a minute, he returned with what looked like an army of Kulsat. They all tried to fit inside the laboratory, but it soon became too crowded. Three Crescents signed something to them, and the majority of the aliens swam back outside, but remained in waiting.

  Justine counted twenty Kulsat still in the laboratory, not including Three Crescents. Of those, three had Kinemetic radiation in them—Deficients—and the rest were normal Kulsat. With her senses, she detected seven other ‘Deficients’ among those waiting outside the laboratory. Justine had no idea if Red Spot was among the twenty.

  Three Crescents typed on the computer.

  “All Kulsat who have been in this section since your arrival are displayed here. One of them is the traitor. To be assured, all twenty will be expired. The others will learn the result of betrayal.”

  Three Crescents swam a short distance to one of the worktables and picked up a device that looked like a soldering iron. It had a long cord that was attached to the nearest wall. With two of his tentacles, he pointed the sharp end of the tool at one of the Kulsat in the line.

  A thin stream of something jetted out from the device, detectable only because of the rippling of the water between Three Crescents and his target. Justine heard a deep thrumming sound and felt the vibrations of what must have been some kind of sonic agitator. The Kulsat at the receiving end of the wave began to pulsate, and his arms started to contract and expand in sharp movements. His entire body seemed to go into a rapid series of spasms, and then the water around him turned murky as his flesh burst into a cloud of black and red.

  On the wall behind the victim, a large circular opening appeared and, as if it were a giant pump, began to draw water into it. The dead alien’s body drifted back to the opening and was sucked out of the room.

  The nineteen remaining Kulsat did not make any sign of protest, or attempt to flee.

  Justine, unable to fathom the horror she was witnessing, struggled to her feet and pounded on the glass separating her from the others.

  “You monster!” she screamed. “Stop killing them. They’re innocent!”

  Three Crescents gave no indication that he was aware of her protest. He raised the device up at the next Kulsat in line, a small one with orange mottling on his arms, and fired again.

  Again, the Kulsat spasmed, the water around him clouded over with his bodily fluids.

  “Stop it!” Justine screamed. She punched and kicked the glass as hard as she could but the only damage done was to her fist.

  “Name the traitor. The others will be spared.”

  How could she betray one Kulsat to save the rest of them? How could she watch more sentient beings die horribly to keep her word to an alien being who she barely knew? No matter what she did, Red Spot was going to die.

  “All right,” Justine said, choking back the tears. “I’ll tell you. Just stop killing them.”

  “Name the traitor.”

  Pointing to the second murdered Kulsat, Justine said, “That was the one. You got him already.”

  “Deception has been employed.” Three Crescents typed. “These twenty have never been in this section before. It is apparent that your kind cannot be trusted. Your species are an imminent threat, and will contaminate all Kulsat you contact. We will now expire all Deficients and Potentials in this section of the ship. We will report to our superiors and recommend the expiry of all your kind.”

  The overwhelming futility of it consumed Justine. No matter what she’d done, Three Crescents had been single-minded in his purpose and his conviction that she, and all humankind, was a threat. The story Alex had conveyed was now confirmed in her mind. Paranoia drove the Kulsat to destroy any new alien species they encountered.

  Not knowing if any of the other Kulsat could see the translation monitor, Justine nevertheless called out to them. “Save yourselves. Fight him. He’s only one. You outnumber him.”

  Three Crescents made a rippling motion with his arms, similar to when Justine had caused him frustration earlier, and he touched something on the computer. The soft hum on the transmitter on her collar—a sound she hadn’t noticed up until that point—disappeared. The Kulsat had shut off the translator.

  The alien then raised the energy emitter device in his tentacles and began to fire into the remaining Kulsat in the room.

  Justine couldn’t understand why the Kulsat simply waited for their death. Had the elite class—those like Three Crescents—so completely conditioned the others to believe they had no value unless they were Risen?

  Even knowing in her heart it would make no difference, that none of the Kulsat could understand her, Justine slapped her hands against the glass. “Fight him, damn you. Defend yourselves.”

  It was as if one of them had heard her. From the entranceway, a small Kulsat flicked all eight of her tentacles and dashed toward Three Crescents. Red Spot? Justine spied the distinctive mark above her eye.

  Intent on murdering the non-Risen Kulsat in the lab, Three Crescents didn’t see her until she was right next to him.

  He twisted around to aim the rod at Red Spot, but her plan wasn’t to attack him. Instead, she darted to the wall where the cord of the energy rod was attached. She wrapped three tentacles around it and yanked. It came free before Three Crescents could fire at her.

  With a huge ripple of frustration going th
rough his arms, Three Crescents quantized her. In the place where the small Kulsat had been, now there was only a collection of light particles.

  The pump in the opposite wall was working overtime, sucking in the remnants of the other dead Kulsat. It was also creating a current in the water, and the quantized bits of the small alien were slowly being drawn across the lab.

  Three Crescents, having dealt with the situation, swam over to the wall and went about repairing the connection to the energy rod.

  He was going to resume his killing spree.

  When Justine had been fully irradiated with Kinemet, she’d been able to quantize herself at will. It had never occurred to her to try to quantize another being. She believed a quantum engine was required to begin the quantization process. It was only after the quantized state existed that Justine had been able to reverse the change of state and return the ship and its passengers to their tangible selves.

  With her senses, she could not detect any Kinemet in this section of the ship, whether charged or dormant. How had Three Crescents done that to Red Spot? When she’d been quantized and removed from the Ultio, her suspicion had been that the Kulsat had developed some kind of technology they’d used to target her. Now, she wondered if it was another stage in the development of a Kinemat.

  Even though Justine barely had any radiation in her system, she had enough to see … and maybe, if she concentrated, she might have enough to reverse the quantization on Red Spot before the ship’s pumps sucked her out of the room and to destinations unknown.

  Willing herself to focus, she reached out with every trace of the Kinemetic radiation in her. The strain was incredible, and her entire body shook with the effort.

  The effort completely drained her, and panic streaked through her when she suddenly lost her ability to see.

  14

  Copán :

  Honduras :

  Long Count: 9.19.19.17.11 :

  I had no sense of time. It seemed as if I had been walking for tens of days. The pain in my chest was worse since I started on my way back to my village, and with every step I took, it felt as if I were being struck in the ribs with a heavy club.

  I paused to drink whenever there was a stream of water, and eat whenever I came across a bush ripe with berries.

  I could not recall when I stopped to sleep, though I must have, because I found myself lying on the ground in the morning, looking up into a cloudless sky.

  The thin wisps of a dream floated away as full consciousness returned. The pain surrounded me like a blanket, and I wondered if I would ever rise again.

  Somehow, I managed to get back on my feet, gather my pack, and complete the journey to my village.

  Papan, one of the hunters who had taught me how to track prey, was the first to spot me, and he let out a cry to others to come and help me.

  Knowing that I was among family and friends, I let myself succumb to my weariness, and passed out as several strong men picked me up to bring me to my hut.

  ∞

  I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke, my chest was wrapped with a bandage, and I was covered with several woven blankets.

  There were three others in my hut. My father, Tohil Ak, stood over me, his face beaming with pride. Beside him, my mother, Xmucane, clasped her hands together and gave me a look that was a mix of relief and worry.

  The third person in the tent was Balam Ix, our priest, who was the oldest person in our village.

  “Subo,” my father said, “it is good to see you awake. Your mother feared the worst.”

  I tried to sit up, but it felt as if a boulder pressed down on my chest.

  “Don’t try to move,” the priest said. He put a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. “It will be many days before you are healed.”

  I relaxed my muscles and lay back. “I have succeeded, father.” Smiling up at him, I spoke with pride. “Three Q’eqchi’ came upon me. I did not take their skin, but I defeated them.”

  “That is good, my son.” He nodded. “The warriors will welcome you to their ranks once you are able.”

  Balam said, “There is much more to your story, young Subo, is there not?”

  I looked back and forth between the holy man and my father, who said, “You spoke of it in your fever sleep. Is it a dream, or a vision?”

  “You must tell me,” Balam said, “now, before we bring the story to the council. You had a holy vision. Did a god grant you audience, young one?”

  Though it was difficult to do so, I took a deep breath. “He said he was not a god, but he was a sky traveler. I saw his boat flying through the sky while I was waiting for a Q’eqchi’ warrior to fight.”

  I told them Ekahua’s story from beginning to end. When I was finished, I could feel myself tiring from the effort.

  “Do you remember the Song of the Stars he taught you?” Balam asked. His voice was pitched low, full of wonder. I saw in the way he looked at me that he did not doubt my story.

  “Yes,” I said, and closed my eyes as I sang the song in Ekahua’s strange language.

  When I sang the last line of the song, I looked again at our holy man. He nodded.

  “It is a powerful Song. It is a great gift he has given you, Subo Ak. It will take you your entire life to understand its meaning. Perhaps you will never understand. We will study the song together.”

  “Together…?” I asked, wondering at Balam’s words.

  “Yes.” He stood, then. “I have been to Copán and spoken with King Ukit Took about your fever dream. This Ekahua is a spirit who visited you in a vision. It is a sign from the gods. Only a prophet may receive such portents from the Underworld.”

  My father spoke the words before I could. “Subo is to be a warrior. He has achieved a great victory over our enemies.”

  Balam smiled and nodded. “Only with the power of a great spirit was he able to defeat three Q’eqchi’ warriors. It has been decided, Tohil. Subo will become my apprentice, and one day he will take my place as the high priest of the village. It is prophesied.”

  He turned to me. “In seven days, you will begin your training.” With that, Balam took his leave of us.

  I was completely stunned by the news, and I felt a rising anger at the king’s decision.

  Me, a holy man? I had never thought about being anything other than a warrior like my father, and to honor the memory of my slain brother.

  I could see the disappointment in my father’s eyes. From the time I was a child, he’d schooled me in the ways of battle. Now, all that effort was for nothing.

  Clenching his jaw, my father turned on his heel and strode from my hut. Only my mother remained, and she would not meet my eyes.

  Ysalane! She could not marry me. Holy men did not take wives, and would never have children.

  It did not matter to me that the priest was one of the most revered members of our people, that the elders took counsel with him, and that he commanded the respect of all in the village. Right then, I felt I’d been cheated out of my reward, and I cursed the day I had seen Ekahua’s flying boat.

  ∞

  Over the next few days, I healed, and soon I could get up from my bed and walk on my own. I tired quickly, and could only make short trips at first. Soon, however, I could wander around for long periods of time.

  Our village had twenty houses spaced out over a sizeable area. The largest building was in the center of the village, near the common circle, and was used by the elders to hold their meetings. One house was reserved for the priest. The others were for the families of the elders, weavers, toolmakers, traders, and the warrior-hunters.

  There were several temporary huts for those of us who were unmarried, but who no longer lived with our families. It was where we stayed until we completed our manhood rituals, and until our parents and elders arranged a marriage for us.

  Most of the villagers lived on their own compounds outside of the village, where they tended their fields.

  Everywhere I went, the other villagers would watch and
stare as I passed. No one would approach or talk to me other than my mother and father. Word had spread that I was going to be apprenticed to our village’s priest.

  Returning to my hut, I lay on my bed and thought about how miserable my life had become. I would have to learn numbers, stars and the calendar; I would need to learn to write glyphs to record our stories; I would need to learn to help heal the sick with potions and rituals; I would have to advise new families on what to name their children. There would be hundreds of other tasks I had never wanted.

  At that moment, I decided I would sneak away from the village once I was healed enough to do so. I would return to Quiriguá and kill as many of our enemies as I could before they captured and sacrificed me. Then, at least, there would be songs sung of my heroic deeds.

  The Song. Over the past few days, I had been trying to avoid remembering it, but once I let it enter my thoughts, I couldn’t put it out of my mind.

  Without being consciously aware that I was doing it, I began to hum the song. Soon, the humming turned into singing, and a sense of peace crept into my troubled heart.

  I was angry at my fate, but I could take comfort in the great gift Ekahua had given me.

  When I finished singing, I started it again from the beginning.

  I was so consumed by the song, I wasn’t immediately aware that the ground was shaking underneath me. It only lasted a few seconds, but I knew from experience that small earth tremors often led to larger earthquakes.

  Rolling off my bed, I bit my tongue as a sharp pain went through my chest at the sudden movement. It took me a moment before I could get to my feet and step outside my hut.

  Several of the women were running across the village common, calling out for their children to come to them and find a safe spot to hide.

  A second tremor hit, sending me off-balance. I had to grasp the supports on my hut to keep it from collapsing.