Xen'tarza: Book Two of the Twelve Dimensions

by Paul Centeno

  For countless kilometers, the tank drove over crushed bricks. The coarse path revealed no signs of life. Tilted framework, which had once belonged to buildings, soared among floating islands what with the gravity distortions. The crew hoped to spot at least one thing that remained untarnished, but even the tawny-green sky revealed excessive pollution.

  In time, they came across a blockade of debris. Xorvaj promptly fired his cannons at it. Destroying the obstruction, he cleared a path down the mountainous terrain. Once below, the ghensoth zoomed along a contaminated riverbank. The desolate canyon they rode through felt less bumpy, but the tank still shook. Ahead lay a seemingly endless expanse of mountains.

  After what seemed like ages to the mercenaries, they spotted what appeared to be a bunker in the distance.

  “Yaro, scan that fortification.”

  The mutant complied. “I’m detecting an unknown energy source. Radiation levels have also decreased in this region. We might be able to explore on foot.”

  “You heard the man,” Dojin said, charging his plasma shotgun.

  Xorvaj nodded at him while increasing his speed. Burning rubber, they reached their destination in mere minutes. The ghensoth parked in front of the octagonal bunker, which somehow remained intact despite the destruction of every single building they had seen along the way.

  The squad got to their feet, weapons at the ready. Using the tank’s built-in X-Phaser technology, Shirakaya and her comrades materialized outside. Sensing the travelers disembarking, the vehicle generated a barrier. In circumference, the defensive shield extended three-hundred and fifty-six meters. Within the protective sphere, it allowed them to utilize the tank’s life-support functions via ZiFi without the use of their own breathing apparatuses.

  Distancing themselves from their ZX-9000, they checked their surroundings. The mutant fixed his eyes on the bunker’s sealed entrance when he heard something galloping behind him. He turned, unsheathing his enchanted sword; yet he didn’t see anything emerge other than toxic air. Gazing up at the hovering oracle, he realized she looked somewhat flustered. Dojin noticed her expression too.

  “Sense something, kid?”

  “Thought I did,” she said, biting her lip. “Whatever it was I felt...it’s gone. Happened so fast. Maybe it’s just my imagination?”

  “Nothing is imagination on this planet,” Khal’jan said.

  “So it would seem,” Rah’tera commented, daggers at the ready.

  “Group up, mercs,” the freelancer said. “Right now, our top priority is getting inside that bunker. We need to find out what’s down there.”

  Yarasuro waved his KLD, scanning the structure. “The energy source is definitely coming from here. Strange. Whatever was used to construct this bunker isn’t too strong. Not sure how it’s still standing. Good thing is, it shouldn’t be difficult for us to infiltrate.”

  “Leave it to me,” Xorvaj said.

  Reentering the tank, he aimed every cannon at the bunker. Acknowledging what he was about to do, the crew took cover. Unleashing a barrage of fusion missiles, Xorvaj blew up the door. Walls on either side crumbled, and parts of the ceiling collapsed. The explosion caused the vehicle’s shield to dissipate. Myris peeked out from behind the tank, blinking in disbelief.

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered.

  Dojin touched his chest. “An asshole after my own heart.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Rah’tera responded, his mask hiding a smirk.

  Xorvaj rematerialized outside. “Act now. Think later,” he said, bazooka in hand.

  “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way?” Myris commented. “Oh, never you mind. Follow the big guy!”

  V

  Anomaly

  Entering the dark structure, the crew spread out. Descending a ramp, they reached another sealed door. After checking for possible traps, Xorvaj rammed his way through it. The oracle shrugged at Shirakaya who couldn’t help but grin. Advancing through the dim tunnel, Yarasuro heard something scuttle by him. Again, he raised his sword at the musty air.

  “Hmmm...”

  “Something wrong, freakshow?”

  The mutant gave him a long look. “There will be if you call me that again.” Seeing the renegade raise his hands in surrender, he went on, “I keep hearing something.”

  “I’m sensing it,” Myris intervened. “It’s brief. Sudden. But there’s definitely something odd.”

  “Explain,” the freelancer said warily.

  “I’ve been getting this strange vibe that we’re being followed. I know it sounds like I’m totally mental, but it’s as if an entity or entities know we’re here.”

  Xorvaj snarled at her words. “Ghosts?”

  “No,” the oracle said. “My third eye is telling me otherwise. Neither the living nor the undead are pursuing us. Not machines either. I can’t explain. It’s unlike anything we’ve ever encountered before.”

  “That...is troubling,” Shirakaya said, loading a cryo cartridge into her rifle. “We’d best remain vigilant at all times.”

  Pressing on, the wary mercenaries stepped onto a cracked platform. At the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, upon which rested a dull orb. Myris approached, hands extended. As she reached for it, the orb shone in the darkness. She flinched, hovering back. When the oracle dared to approach it a second time, the crew did not stop her. This time, it reacted to her touch. Myris gasped as the orb glowed and rose on its own. Suspended in the air, its spherical form illuminated the structure.

  “Magic!” Shirakaya exclaimed with elation.

  “And science,” Khal’jan added, while the rumbling platform initiated its descent like an archaic elevator. “This technology is a hybrid of both.”

  The primeval elevator accelerated, plummeting at an extreme speed. To the group’s utter astonishment, foreign symbols appeared in the air, accompanied by a robotic voice: Welcome to Last Haven. You may experience a momentary lapse in gravity. With the exception of Myris, the crew lifted and hovered a few meters above the metal floor.

  “Blimey!” the oracle blurted, letting out a faint chuckle at them.

  “What the fuck is this gay shit?”

  Rah’tera shrugged. “At least it spoke in the Ensarian tongue,” he said, gripping the central pedestal before lifting too high. “Though, not sure of the consequences what with us not being in outer space.”

  “This is degrading,” Xorvaj said.

  Just as the others started to grow anxious, the lapse in gravity dissipated. Myris remained hovering in her high-tech wheelchair while the squad gently floated down. Once their feet made contact with the rumbling floor, the platform decelerated. In a matter of mere seconds, it came to a full stop.

  The door ahead opened, revealing a cavernous chamber before them. Although it was pitch black at first sight, the circuitry of the ceiling and walls illuminated a missile silo. The lighting was a gradual process, beginning with a flight of grated steps leading down to a sector loaded with nuclear warheads. Somewhat apprehensive, Shirakaya and her crew stared wildly at the underground facility.

  “Well, kiss my dick and call me snippy. Think that Del Vayso guy is down here?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Shirakaya responded, stepping forward and taking the lead.

  Proceeding down the staircase, they split up into different aisles. Though inactive, the presence of the missiles disturbed Shirakaya a great deal. Again, the mutant heard a noise. This time, it sounded like something flying over him. He gazed up, but, no different than before, he didn’t see anything. Heart pounding, he checked his flank and leaned against a warhead.

  At the opposite end of the chamber, they regrouped. In front of them lay a tunnel with the same walls containing lit-up circuitry. The squad entered an artificially illuminated passageway that curved and twisted for a while before they came across an intersection. Indicating to the others to disregard the side passages, the freelancer strode forward.

  It wasn’t long before they reached ano
ther crossroad. Shirakaya ignored the other paths, continuing to walk straight. At the third junction, though, she hesitated. Knowing there was pressure to make a quick decision, she turned and signaled everyone to go left. A couple of kilometers ahead, Yarasuro heard more subtle thumping. To his surprise, nothing approached him.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “Hear what?” Dojin said.

  Yarasuro appeared more pale than usual. “Never mind. I think my heightened senses are making me go crazy.”

  “I trust your senses, Yaro,” Shirakaya said. “Stay alert, mercs.”

  The mercenaries complied, following her. Even though the mutant could still hear subtle but nevertheless audible and strange noises, he shrugged them off as though they were in his head. Not a single person, including Myris, affirmed the scuttling, thumping, or guttural sounds that Yarasuro had heard.

  Approaching a fourth intersection, the freelancer halted. “Why do I get the feeling that this compound is a maze?”

  “Because it is,” Dojin said flatly.

  Khal’jan laughed. “For us it seems that way. But considering how deep these tunnels are, I’m going to assume this isn’t just a nuclear silo.”

  “It’s an underground bomb shelter,” Yarasuro said.

  “Precisely,” the archeologist replied. “And these junctions are a network that probably lead to other silos.”

  “This sucks balls.”

  “Quit complaining, ya nitwit.”

  Shirakaya activated her KLD, using its radar to design a digital map. “According to this grid, we’re approximately three kilometers away from an antechamber. I’m hoping it’s some kind of control room.”

  “How accurate is that map?” Rah’tera inquired.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, walking toward a wide passage on the right. “But it’s better than getting lost.”

  The group progressed through the winding tunnel, searching for the zone that Shirakaya had mentioned. Coming across numerous intersections, the crew waited each time for their leader to choose which path to take. In one of the sectors, the lights began to fluctuate. Reaching the end of that passage, they arrived at a sealed entryway.

  “This must be it,” Khal’jan said.

  Shirakaya nodded. “There might be something important in there, so I don’t want us using explosives. Think you can open it?” she asked the ghensoth.

  Xorvaj’s response was a mere snort. The squad backed away in sync while he bashed the thick metal door. At first, he only dented it in the middle. Snarling in reaction, the ghensoth mustered all his strength and struck the alloy door with both arms, dislodging the upper part of it from the circuited walls. Though the ghensoth received a sharp shock, he didn’t stop attacking the door until it fell flat on the ground. Shirakaya noticed that he appeared embarrassed for taking longer than usual, so she clapped half-heartedly, along with the oracle.

  “Nice one, big guy.”

  Stomping over the door, Xorvaj was the first to enter the room. The chamber revealed a wide mainframe. There were also empty capsules nestled into a side wall with wires linked to them from top to bottom. The archeologist checked each cable, noticing that they were plugged into various CPUs, which were, in turn, connected to the massive mainframe. With the exception of Khal’jan, the crew refrained from touching anything.

  “Can you use these terminals to locate Del Vayso?” the freelancer asked her brother.

  Khal’jan gave her a skeptical look. “I can try.” Approaching the mainframe, he fiddled with numerous buttons until he pushed one that turned it on. “Huh. Seems like there’s still juice in this thing.” The archeologist waited for the interface to load, at which point he tried navigating its programs. “It’s some sort of archaic network.”

  “Intriguing,” Vokken said via KLD.

  The freelancer crossed her arms. “Does that mean you’ll be able to tap into some kind of server and pinpoint his whereabouts?”

  “I doubt it,” he said gloomily.

  “Transfer the Transdimensional Ethernet Protocol address to me so I can hack into that network,” the AI said. Not getting a response right away, he went on, “We are losing precious time, fleshlings. Another star has vanished. Now stop squabbling and give me access because it will be impossible for any of you to comprehend such foreign tech without my help.”

  Shirakaya hesitated but eventually gave an approving nod to her brother.

  “Give me a sec,” the archeologist said, searching the main program. “Got it. Transmitting the EP address.”

  “Excellent,” the AI said. “Obtaining the EP network. Proxy detected. Subnetting. Unicast finished. Initiating hack now.” Silence descended over the room, broken only by reverberations produced by the rumbling machines. “Hack successful. Translating each program’s language and coding.”

  Silence fell again for a minute.

  “Well?” the freelancer muttered anxiously.

  “Patience,” he said. “Whatever kind of civilization existed here prior to extinction, they were well on their way toward the digital age.”

  She rolled her eyes, disinterested.

  “You actually located files on this race?” Khal’jan asked. “Do you know what that means? This is another incredible discovery, Shira. It’s big. Maybe not as big as finding remnants of the Nempada Empire, but it’s serious.”

  “What about Del Vayso?”

  “I’m working on it,” the AI said, his cybernetic voice revealing irritation. “That...is odd. According to the network, it’s telling me all lifeforms died one hundred and forty-nine cycles ago on the day of DAR.”

  Dojin raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck is DAR?”

  “You might not believe me,” Vokken replied. “Based on the information in this database, a race known as the Uganda tapped into another dimension. In point of fact, scientists claimed to have created a new dimension altogether.”

  His mouth agape, Yarasuro muttered, “A thirteenth dimension?”

  “It’s a conspiracy theory,” Shirakaya said. “Nothing more than a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to make us second-guess our knowledge of the universe.”

  Khal’jan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m willing to keep an open mind.”

  “The probability of it being accurate is less than ten percent. If anything, the evidence points to an artificial dimension...not one of innate origin. However, something went terribly wrong with their experiment. An anomaly. It caused them to nuke their planet and perform a worldwide system shutdown.”

  “You still didn’t answer my question,” Dojin said.

  “Dissimilate Augmented Reality, otherwise known as DAR,” Vokken answered. “It refers to the annihilation of the thirteenth dimension.”

  The ghensoth scratched his rigid cranium.

  Rah’tera wanted to do the same thing with his dreadlocks. “As fascinating as this sounds, it’s beginning to give me a headache.”

  “Regardless,” the AI continued, “we are a century too late.”

  Shirakaya cursed, kicking one of the numerous computer terminals.

  “None of this is making sense to me because I still sense Wyneim Del Vayso,” the oracle said. “He’s alive.”

  “I am merely relaying the information on this database to you.”

  The freelancer rubbed her chin. “Much appreciated, Vokken. But something’s definitely amiss. We need to do more digging. Khal, keep fiddling with the mainframe. See what you can come up with.”

  “You got it.”

  While the AI navigated through each program, Khal’jan continued to examine the primary computer too. The ambitious archeologist, however, struggled to understand its coding. His passion was the only reason why he remained seated, determined to figure out every command. Despite his zeal, after half an hour, he hadn’t discovered anything.

  Vokken, on the contrary, had already translated half the syntax. Not long after, he learned the entire language. He then hacked into its software, deciphering the coding. Thoroughly scannin
g each file, the AI narrowed his search down to an automated program based on digital simulations.

  “I’ve found something unfathomable,” Vokken said. “It is unlike anything I have ever seen, and I have witnessed a great many things throughout the eons.”

  Shirakaya furrowed her brow. “What?”

  “A doorway into the thirteenth dimension,” he answered, hearing an uproar in the room via the freelancer’s KLD. “I take it you want me to open it?”

  “No!” the archeologist sputtered. Some of the mercenaries appeared confused by his curt response. He promptly went on, “There’s a reason why it was sealed. For all we know, unsealing it might lead to our deaths.”

  “Agreed,” the mutant said, sheathing his sword. “It would be unwise to leap into a pit before knowing what’s below.”

  The ghensoth snorted. “Dull as ever.”

  “This isn’t a game,” Shirakaya said sternly. “But sometimes we need to take a leap of faith.” She paused for a long moment, staring hard at the mainframe. Eventually, she fixated on Vokken via her kinetic link device. “Activate it.”

  VI

  Augmented Threat

  Hacking into the computer program, Vokken triggered a sequence of commands designed to unseal a dimensional gateway. Yet they neither heard nor felt anything inside the control room. Even the mainframe didn’t make a sound. An awkward silence fell over the chamber, but it was soon broken when Myris shrieked.

  Shirakaya flinched. “What happened?”

  “The capsules!” she shouted.

  To their surprise, each pod contained a creature in suspended animation. Considering how similar they all looked, it became apparent to Shirakaya that the strange beings were part of the same race. The only difference was that only one out of the seven creatures seemed to be lacking fatal wounds.

  Their purplish, muscular frames defined them as a naturally strong species. With rigid, square-shaped craniums, their faces appeared robust. Tendrils grew from their chiseled jawlines, and their husky chests revealed small cylindrical holes as if surgically implemented for artificial implants.