The Rylerran Gateway

by Mark Ian Kendrick

  The Rylerran Gateway

  Mark Ian Kendrick

  iUniverse, Inc.

  New York Bloomington

  The Rylerran Gateway

  Copyright © 2008 by Mark Ian Kendrick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  ISBN: 978-0-595-52625-3 (pbk)

  ISBN: 978-0-595-62677-9 (ebk)

  Printed in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part I

  Part II

  Part III

  Epilogue

  People, Places and Things

  Prologue

  S’Hith, H’Tor and G’San, all of the 2nd Telkan Science Inquiry Team, ran as fast as their two primary legs could carry them. Dodging low bush branches and trying to avoid the projectiles the Kelna’ack raiders were firing at them, they followed the narrow, barely perceptible dirt trail in the gathering darkness. The nearby nebula hadn’t yet risen to fill the night with its even sky glow. No matter. The Telkan weren’t bred on this uninhabited world, but rather were interlopers, as were the Kelna’ack.

  G’San, who was in the lead, activated the display on the device he held tightly in one of his hands. The cavern, which held the recently discovered gateway, was slightly over eighty metyons away. The brush still obscured their view of the slight rise that marked the entrance to the cavern. His voice rang out a full two octaves higher than normal due to the stress of the chase. “This way!” His companions re-doubled their efforts, even lowering their secondary legs in a futile attempt to accelerate their race to the cavern. Those legs weren’t built for such speed or to bear their full weight as they had tens of thousands of years ago, but the instinct to use them still lay in their genes when danger arose.

  All four of H’Tor’s lungs were working overtime. His nostrils flared in an attempt to draw in more air. “I can’t make it,” he hissed.

  “You can, clansmate,” G’San told him. “It’s just a bit further.”

  H’Tor summoned all his strength and pressed on. Moments later the foliage gave way to a clearing in front of the cave.

  Another whine rang through the leaves and branches behind them. A round found its mark, striking G’San’s shoulder with its poisonous potassium-sulphur mixture. It penetrated cleanly through his clothing and flesh, then struck the stone in front of him. It ricocheted somewhere within the cavern’s entrance. The marksman couldn’t have known he had made a hit since the tormentors were still dozens of metyons behind them through thick undergrowth.

  G’San’s first reaction was anger. They had run so far into the brush and had finally arrived at the cavern only to be shot just at that moment. He knew the Kelna’ack weren’t interested in killing their quarry in a fast merciful way, but rather relished the slow painful death of their highly feared chemically powered and laden projectiles. But the searing pain of the projectile replaced his anger. G’San stifled his normal reaction to roar out loud. He slumped against the cavern entrance. He attempted to hold himself up, but the pain was already overwhelming. S’Hith and H’Tor quickly grabbed him and pulled him upright. G’San’s backpack strap dug unto his armpit as they did so.

  They knew the way. They had to enter the cavern then travel down the right wing where their investigation team had found the ancient tunnel. The tunnel was inside a large, highly polished rectangular stone made by an unknown race for an, at first, unknown purpose.

  Only recently had they culled its mystery from the remote past. After the iridescent disc-shaped devices were discovered in a nearby cubbyhole, it quickly became obvious that the tunnel-like structure was a transportation device, a gateway into another quantum dimension. Very little else was known about the gateway. It seemed to belong to their universe, yet it didn’t have all the properties objects normally possessed. It was powered by a means completely elusive to the Telkan scientists who analyzed it. It allowed one to emerge into a place nearly identical to their own, yet somehow different. Not enough study had been brought to bear to fully understand where just yet. The other scientists working on that mystery were now dead from Kelna’ack weapons fire only minyons before.

  Now only these three knew of the mysterious tunnel’s existence. The rest of their investigation team at the camp were either dead by now or would be shortly. For what reason? Sport. The Kelna’ack were nothing more than marauding sport killers. They hunted their Telkan quarry whenever they came across them. Once they killed everyone they would burn anything they found. Not interested in Telkan technology, the Kelna’ack wanted nothing except bragging rights for the kill. It defied logic that a spacefaring race could be so bloodthirsty. But it was a reality. Thousands of Telkans had died by their hands over the last four decanes.

  The Kelna’ack hadn’t claimed the star system or this world. Indeed there had been no reports of Kelna’ack venturing this far from their known hunting quadrants. These marauders must have followed the recent re-supply ship’s ion trail to the surface of this planet. Once Telkan ships went sublight they left such a trail in space. Even the solar winds in this system couldn’t erase it quickly enough.

  The three scientists now gathered in the cavern had had only a few minyons warning. They had all been together in Lab Building C when B’nir triggered the warning klaxon from across the encampment. They had gathered the scant belongings they happened to have with them and raced toward the cavern’s shelter once they realized that Kelna’ack were upon them.

  They had run as quickly as they could away from the research post, hearing the death roars of their comrades, the sickening sound of weapons fire, a small explosion, then just the wind in their tiny ears as they ran deeper and deeper into the brush.

  Knowing they would be hunted down until they were dead, they took the only alternative they could. Get to the cavern that held the tunnel. Go through the tunnel and emerge here, yet not here. Perhaps they could simply hold out in the alternate world for a day, maybe even two, until the Kelna’ack left. No one liked the idea. The plan was crazy, but in G’San’s backpack were the disc devices. At least no Kelna’ack would be able to follow them across. He had the only ones known to exist.

  S’Hith was much younger than either H’Tor or G’San. He had yet to shed his second skin. For that he had endured much derision about his youth by the older scientists, especially from G’San. But it was S’Hith who was carefully pulling G’San along the corridor now. He may have gotten a lot of grief from his elder, but G’San was the smartest of all the team members. Smart and true. Two Telkan traits S’Hith found appealing. Traits he wanted to declare for himself at his Third Shedding, which was the declaration rite all adults celebrated.

  Telkan eyes could func
tion quite well in near-darkness, although they required some photons to see. They didn’t dare switch on the string of lights they had earlier strung along the ceiling of the corridor. That would simply give the raiders easy access to them. H’Tor quickly pulled out a flat phosphorescent band from his backpack and pressed the adhesive side against his broad forehead. He pulled out another and pressed it against S’Hith’s. Now, with an even greenish-white illumination above their eyes, they could more quickly make their way to the inner chamber. The chamber where the strange rock with the tunnel in it had lain for untold centremes before they accidentally discovered it.

  The narrow corridor walls opened up to the chamber much more quickly this time. They had never rushed to make it here before.

  G’San’s breath was labored now. The pain in his shoulder had spread downward. His right secondary leg was useless now. He could barely feel it and couldn’t move it anymore. He hissed. “The discs… each… gets one.” Each ragged breath felt as if it was responsible for spreading the pain.

  H’Tor tore open his pack and placed a disc into S’Hith’s hand. He pressed another one into G’San’s still-working hand. The third he held in his own hand.

  A distinct noise came from the dark corridor behind them. The three ceased all movement to listen. Their ears were tiny but tuned to a broad frequency range. Nearly imperceptible vibrations told them the murderers were on their way. Footsteps echoed faintly. One set. Two. Three. Now four. Four against three, and no weapons with which to defend themselves.

  They had performed only two tests on the strange tunnel they had discovered. Those tests, which B’nir had volunteered for, proved the device led to a world much colder than this world. It was in the midst of an ice age. They weren’t dressed for that climate. Yet, it was that or die a painful death. After holding out as long as they could and then returning, they might find a working communications computer. With it they could send a signal to the satellite they had in orbit in hope of being rescued later on. That is, if the satellite was still in orbit. It was a stretch to be sure, but G’San who was a quick thinker had worked out the scenario in his head even before they had left the research building.

  G’San passed out. His body slumped as if lifeless. S’Hith let go of him and was immediately blinded by the bright lights they had strung up. Their tormentors must have found the on switch! It took several secyons for both S’Hith and H’Tor eyes to adjust. The sounds of the footsteps were hurried, frantic. The scientists were being hunted. Sensors must have told the killers where their quarry was located.

  H’Tor pointed to G’San’s primary legs. “We’ll pull him across,” he hissed as quietly as he could. H’Tor placed his hands beneath G’San’s shoulders.

  S’Hith obeyed and grabbed G’San’s legs. Just as he stood up, the sound of a weapon being discharged rang out in the corridor behind him.

  S’Hith couldn’t believe the searing pain he felt. He dropped G’San’s legs and placed his hand over an open wound in his chest. The Kelna’ack weapon had pierced him from back to front, passing through his body, just as it had G’San’s. The same projectile had pierced H’Tor’s left secondary leg, too. The pain wasn’t enough for him to let go of G’San’s shoulders, but it made him hesitate.

  “S’Hith! Go. Now! I can pull G’San across myself,” H’Tor ordered.

  S’Hith bent down slightly and literally threw himself into the tunnel. Once he reached the middle of it he instantly disappeared from view. H’Tor dragged the totally limp body of his colleague through. They slowly disappeared across the shimmering barrier inside the mysterious tunnel. There was no sound, no indication anything had activated. In a silent instant, they simply disappeared from one quantum universe and emerged into another

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  The city of Tokaias on Andakar sprawled along the northwestern shore of Koehkelko bay near the foothills of the Patoria Mountains. The bay was an almost perfect three-quarter circle. The city was the hub of Andakar culture, was its business center, and had the largest spaceport on the planet. Due to its protected location at the interior of the bay, Tokaias had many cruise ship docks, which served thousands of tourists throughout the year. Being so close to the equator gave its denizens nearly thirteen and a half hours of sunlight and darkness each day.

  Tokaias’s scattered public buildings displayed striking classic Roman architecture. Citizenship Hall, built in this enduring style, was one of the more impressive buildings in the southeast part of the city. Situated two blocks east of the downtown administrative center building, the hall was where all persons, native born or not, who reached 29 Andakar years of age became Citizens. That is, of course, if they had passed the Citizenship Exam. The extra requirement for nonNates was they had to be naturalized.

  The hall’s front façade was massive. Twenty-nine steps led up to an outer entryway. Six Ionic columns stood two stories high and overshadowed tall, elaborately carved boshwood doors at the front entrance. The building was clad with milky-red marble from a quarry in the foothills of the Frontside mountain range some thirty kilometers to the south. The dehumidifiers inside the hall were running at nearly full capacity. The outside air was already thick with humidity although it was still two weeks before the normal beginning of Haze Days, the hottest days of the year.

  Two rows of uniformed men and women from the Andakar Space Navy filed in to the ceremony room from side entrances. Although the military was still considered new, it had already become a tradition for a detachment to accompany the proclamation of new Citizens. Their formal uniforms and regimented formation made a notable embellishment to what otherwise could have been a boring procedure. One row of fifteen men and women formed to the left side of the audience, another to the right side, taking their places along the outer aisles.

  One of the military men, Lieutenant Commander Darreth James-Po stood next to his buddy, another Lieutenant Commander named Rehl Takaramyus. This was Darreth’s second time attending these proceedings. The first time was for his own citizenship ceremony nearly a year ago. This time was because his name came next on the roster.

  Several men stood on the slightly raised platform at the front of the room. One was Kalder Pent, Tokaias’s City Manager. However, the most dominating person was Darreth’s father, Siloy James-Po, the Provincial Manager of Siaron province and Chief Council of the eleven provinces. Despite being well into his fifties, Siloy had a muscular chest and a lion’s mane of mostly dark, slightly long hair. The overall impression of the man with his trim waistline yet imposing stance was of a proud lion. He would be giving a short speech to the participants before leaving for his next appointment. Standing next to the two men was the New Citizens department head.

  Darreth hadn’t taken note of the people in the audience yet since their own ranks had just halted, turned to face the seated crowd, then came to parade rest. His attention was immediately diverted to a man in the second row not more than three meters away. Darreth’s buddy Rehl was to his right. Rehl saw Darreth’s eyes immediately lock onto the figure in the audience. The look on Darreth’s face wasn’t difficult to read. He’d seen it before.

  “Cute, huh?” Rehl asked in a whisper just loud enough for Darreth to hear. He knew he shouldn’t be speaking at all, but couldn’t help himself.

  “No kidding,” Darreth replied in the same whisper, still looking at the pre-Citizen.

  “You think he’s on your team?” Rehl whispered back.

  “I doubt it. He’s way too good looking.”

  “Pul-leeze,” Rehl said as he rolled his eyes. “If you keep talking like that you’re never gonna get another date.”

  The New Citizens department head took his place at the lectern and spoke into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats.”

  The seventy-three men and women in the audience gradually ceased their conversations. Those who were visiting with others or who were standing returned to their seats. Family and friends took to the back rows a
nd quietly sat. The front rows were for inductees.

  Now that he had a clearer view, Darreth studied the object of his desire in more detail.

  Time and his genes had been good to pre-Citizen Naylon Sente Ress. When the Consortium ordered his family to emigrate to Andakar from Earth fifteen years previous, he barely weighed fifty-four Standard kilos, and was tall and thin. In the intervening years, Naylon had not only grown to a full 1.8 meters in height, but had blossomed to a solid eighty Standard kilos.

  Naylon had been talking with a young woman in an adjacent row. Now that his eyes were fixed on the lectern, Darreth observed the sandy-blond haired man. Nice jaw, cute small ears, and nice rounded shoulders, Darreth decided. I wonder if he’s with someone, he thought. Hell, I wonder what his name is! He would shortly find out since everyone’s name was called over the loudspeaker as they came up to shake hands and be sworn in by the chief of the New Citizens department. But Darreth had an in. In case he didn’t get to meet him, his father could easily get him access to data on any new Citizen.

  Naylon was trying to listen to the chief but his attention kept being diverted to his left. He noticed one of the nearby military personnel staring at him. Naylon had to force himself to keep his eyes forward, yet was compelled to glance ever so often at that good looking man in the crisp blue uniform. The man averted his eyes each time Naylon peered at him. Naylon drank in details with each glance. Perhaps four centimeters taller, and beefier than he, the man had rugged good looks and skin darker than his own, based on the little of it he could see in that immaculate uniform. Even more striking was his salt and pepper hair. That was curious. He certainly doesn’t look old enough to have graying hair. It makes him very distinguished looking, Naylon thought. He couldn’t quite read the badge over the man’s left breast pocket, but thought he saw the name James-Po when he glanced a third time. That can’t be, he thought in surprise.