Ice Phoenix

by Sulin Young

  “What did you do?” said Grandmaster Deitrux, shaking with anger.

  Nashim laughed out loud and pointed in the direction of Minda Yerra. He then turned and pointed to the outskirts of the city. “Have you ever seen this land look so alive?”

  Grandmaster Deitrux fixed his gaze towards the horizon where the edge of the city met the sky. The blood drained from him. “Dartkala, you didn’t!” he whispered hoarsely.

  A cancer crept slowly into the heart of Pa Gumpina, polluting the veins of the land. Wrails, in the thousands, lumbered eagerly towards the city, sniffing out the last of the living. There must have been five wrails to every living person in Pa Gumpina.

  “Don’t worry,” jeered Nashim. “Not everyone will die. In fact, that’s not what I want to happen.”

  “Explain yourself!” demanded Grandmaster Deitrux.

  “Very well. There’s a new breed of wrails that was engineered by my world. They weren’t designed to kill on first bite. Instead, they carry a virus. One bite or scratch from these wrails, the infection is passed directly into the victim’s bloodstream, which then moves on to attack the brain stem and other essential motor functions of its host. But most interestingly of all, it instigates a hunger in its host so excruciating that its host is driven to kill and eat the next person alive in order to satiate its appetite.

  “The host cannot stop, and will continue eating until he or she explodes. They can feel, see, and understand everything, but they have no ability to fight the virus. It only takes an hour after being infected for the host to start feeling the hunger. Pa Gumpina is going to be our first test subject. Today, Grandmaster Deitrux, you and the rest of UWIB will see just how fearsome the Valpuri are. And … people have already been infected. People who are no longer on this planet.”

  The implication of his words sunk in. Grandmaster Deitrux realised with dread that the infection had spread beyond Pa Gumpina into the other sectors. The general populace, animals, the military troops, guild members, and every single lacer and weaver fighting out there could have been infected already, and there was no way to pinpoint their locations. Many had been evacuated to the space stations circling above the planet. Others had returned to their home worlds beyond Sector One.

  “So, Grandmaster Deitrux, I ask you again — the pendant, or the lives of your people and planet?”

  When next the grandmaster looked at Nashim, his eyes were glowing. He took a step towards the Valpuri, and the ground cracked beneath the grandmaster’s feet. The rain no longer fell, but sprayed around him like the parting of a waterfall. Even the air seemed dense. The wind no longer blew through the domes — instead, it pushed down on them.

  Nashim noted the change in both the grandmaster and his surroundings, and took a step back. To his surprise, his foot would not leave the ground.

  “That’s right,” growled the grandmaster. “You will need to slap life into that broken pendant of yours if you wish to escape from here!”

  41

  The hunger

  Tiny holes. The In-Between was filled with them. Holes that were strategically placed together to create large walls positioned in all sectors of the In-Between. These walls were the life veins of the ten sectors, so enormous nuclear-powered synthesisers were suspended around each wall in order to stabilise and maintain them. Communication. Minute data communication converters, better known as combots, filled the holes, each one capable of repairing and conducting themselves while being responsible for passing on their data to the next combot it was intended for.

  Satellite rods floated above these walls, and beyond them were guard stations manned by real people who protected the walls and made sure no unauthorised person or ship could pass through the area. Overseeing the guards was the Station Commander, a person who had been anointed with the power to fiercely attack any hostile entity in the area.

  Right now, the Station Commander and every other person of his status scattered in the In-Between were receiving disturbing orders from the highest authority — an authority they had been sworn to obey and protect. The UWIB Council. “Disable and prevent any ship passing by on sight.” And, “Destroy any ship that refuses to cooperate with the quarantine command, regardless of the number of people on board.” Even as the stations prepared themselves, fighter ships were being dispatched from every part of the ten sectors to confront and stop all ships leaving Pa Gumpina. Every planet was on red alert to carry out the same instruction.

  Station Commander Misopta stood on the bridge, gazing out through his remaining good eye at the lonely evacuation vessel, SS Journey 15, which had been disabled by his station’s electromagnetic pulse gun. He was a tall stern-looking Lizonian, and his command of the station was comparable to an iron grip, something his subordinates knew all too well. But right now, even the stern Commander’s heart wavered as he observed the live stream being relayed from the floundering vessel’s com channel.

  “Station Commander Misopta, what is the meaning of this?” growled Captain Aftara of the SS Journey 15. The captain’s livid face was right in the camera as he demanded an explanation. “Why will you not allow us to proceed with our evacuation to Mos-El 55?”

  “By the mandate issued to me by the UWIB Council at zero ten hundred hours, all vessels leaving Pa Gumpina have been placed under quarantine. You cannot go anywhere,” replied Station Commander Misopta in a stern voice.

  “What is the reason for this quarantine?”

  Station Commander Misopta hesitated. “One, all, or none of you may be carrying a virus. Until our medical officers can come aboard to inspect you properly after the required quarantine hours have passed, I suggest that you segregate everyone on your ship to prevent them from harming one another.”

  “From harming one another?” Captain Aftara’s voice had hit the high notes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Some of the wrails that attacked Pa Gumpina were carrying a virus. It spreads through cuts, scratches, and bites inflicted on their victims. Because we cannot identify these wrails, your entry into any of the ten sectors is forbidden.”

  Captain Aftara’s face hardened as he processed this information. Finally, he asked the question that weighed on both their minds. “And what are your orders if it is discovered that my passengers carry the infection?”

  “My orders are to incinerate the entire ship.”

  “There are innocent people aboard this ship!”

  “I am well aware of that, Captain Aftara, which is why I’m asking you to obey the quarantine order and begin segregating your people.”

  “What does the virus do?”

  Station Commander Misopta was about to answer when Captain Aftara was interrupted by two of his officers.

  “Captain, a fight has broken out in the passenger holding! Our guards have lost control!” one of the officers cried.

  “Bring up the monitors!” barked Captain Aftara.

  As the screens lit up around Captain Aftara, the images were fed directly to the guard station, where Station Commander Misopta could observe. He found himself looking into the passenger holding area. Horror and mayhem confronted him. People were running and screaming; some had blood streaming down their faces while others had patches of flesh missing from various limbs as they tried to escape. His shock was compounded when he saw who they were running from.

  People, some of them children, raced after the fleeing passengers with tears in their eyes. Their limbs jerked as though they were being forced to move against their will and some even shouted to the others to get away. “Dartkala, what is happening?” This was uttered by one of the female officers who was also watching the live stream. Unable to withstand the grotesque images any longer, she turned aside and threw up.

  Captain Aftara of the SS Journey 15 came up on a second screen. His face was pale as he shouted orders to his officers. “Isolate the holding area immediately! Order the officers to use maximum force. Avoid coming into direct contact with them, and do not get bitten or scratched!”

/>   As his officers ran off to execute his orders, the captain turned to Station Commander Misopta. “We require your help to evacuate the non-infected people —”

  “I’m deeply sorry, Captain Aftara.”

  The blood drained from Captain Aftara’s face as he realised the Station Commander’s intention.

  “Wait! I beg you! You can’t just —”

  Station Commander Misopta walled his heart in concrete as he pressed a button and watched the ship explode, taking five thousand lives with it. The only indication that revealed the weight of his action was the single tear that rolled down his face.

  “Dartkala, forgive me,” he whispered. Without looking at the faces of his horrified officers, he stepped forwards onto the communication dock and began logging the events. Recordings of the live stream were also logged and relayed instantly across the channels to waiting parties across the ten sectors.

  Master Kuldor had once been the Communication Infrastructure Chief of UWIB because of his advanced knowledge of satellite communication. He was well known as the designer of the combots, and had secretly developed a tiny communication device called a Flare. This device, no larger than a bottle cap, attached to the left side of his skull, and interfaced directly with his brain. His entire thought process could be transmitted across the In-Between with a single command. He was using this device while coordinating Pa Gumpina’s military forces in the In-Between and on the ground.

  At the time of the explosion, he was hovering above the clouds, four thousand kilometres away. He remained absolutely still as he deciphered the message that came through his Flare.

  He closed his eyes in sorrow and relayed more commands to all the stations throughout the In-Between. Then, he sent a telepathic message to Grandmaster Deitrux.

  Deitrux, it has begun. The guard station outpost in Sector One has shot down an evacuation ship destined for Mos-El 55. They were acting on orders from the UWIB Council. Number of lives lost — five thousand. The Council has already dispatched Fighter ships. Obviously they have been ordered to shoot down all the evacuation ships.

  Kuldor, if we allow our people to evacuate, their ships will be brought down. If we prevent them from leaving, they will have the wrails to contend with.

  Then I will ground the evacuation ships. At least with the wrails they stand a chance. Against UWIB, they stand no chance. I’ve already issued orders to retrieve blood samples from the dead who were infected. Our doctors can analyse the virus and create the antibodies. You must get to the Dark Star soon. There is not much time.

  Master Kuldor continued to hover, his eyes blinking rapidly as he issued several more commands. As soon as he had finished, he spun around and flew straight towards the dark serpent ship. He had only a few minutes to get to Terrana.

  42

  The wrails attack

  The long, sinewy evacuation ship hovered high in orbit, shifting restlessly as it waited for clearance from the rotating traffic tower that guided ships in and out of the In-Between. Inside the serpentine ship, the students grew restless; they had been suspended in the same spot for half an hour.

  “What’s the hold-up?” Kalindra grumbled, as she looked around at the teachers and other students. “We’ve been floundering in orbit for ages!”

  Lorn glanced at her, but remained quiet and calmly observed the teachers walking along the aisles; they looked tense and nervous. They were inspecting the students for marks on their bodies with medical scanners. One teacher came up to Master Drummik and stooped down to say something.

  “All clean,” Lorn overheard him say to Master Drummik.

  All clean for what? Lorn wondered. Why were the teachers going around scanning the students? Another teacher walked up to Master Drummik and bent down to whisper in his ear. Lorn could not catch any of the words, but he knew someone who could have. Nipponians were known to have excellent hearing. He leaned forwards and nudged Mikin, who had also been observing quietly.

  “Did you catch that?”

  Mikin gave him a guilty look and nodded. “He said, ‘Minda Yerra’s defences have been activated. We can return. It should be safe.’”

  Now Lorn was really confused. What was happening? Were they really about to return to Minda Yerra? He caught Master Drummik staring at him. Squirming, Lorn looked behind him and caught sight of Imeldor Raimus standing a little way behind Terrana’s pod. He seemed agitated.

  Something stirred next to Lorn, and he glared at the sight of Kazu sprawled out on Terrana’s lap. The kitten had been a right pain throughout the flight, meowing and scratching to be let out of his cage, and in the end Terrana had relented. Kazu sat up, the sleepy look gone from his face. Instead, he looked alert, his ears twitching, and for some reason Terrana was paying more attention to him than to what was happening around them.

  Kazu feels bad, Terrana. Air feels bad.

  Which is it?

  Terrana, something bad is coming here. Kazu doesn’t like it.

  Do you wanna go to the back where Niku is?

  Their carriage was the second last one in the serpent ship, right before animal storage where Niku was being kept. In case of attack or serious accidents, the carriages were designed to separate so their individual autopilots would activate and navigate their passengers to safety. In fact, every carriage was fitted with its own landing and flight systems.

  You’re not listening! Something bad is coming!

  Terrana pursed her lips and sat up straight. The longer they remained in orbit, the more of a sitting duck they became for the wrails. She wasn’t sure whether the wrails could reach them at this height, but neither did she want to find out. She still believed that the Valpuri had already headed into the Voron Cloud, bent on freeing the Dream Walker.

  She could hear her heart beating in her head. In her mind, she pictured a ship rocketing straight for a dark bubble. Inside that bubble, something large and powerful writhed with insurmountable anger, drawing the ship closer to it. Like a needle plunging into human skin, she saw the ship piercing the bubble, releasing the slow, dripping flow of thick red blood. And then a voice called her name.

  “Terrana. Terrana!”

  Someone shook her and Terrana found herself staring into Lorn’s green eyes.

  “Are you okay? You’re sweating.” He reached out to wipe her forehead and was surprised to find it as cold as ice.

  “We are not moving,” she said, trying to hide her fear and stop Lorn from worrying further.

  “You are thick, aren’t you?” said Misa, glaring at her. “You’d think after being stuck up here for the past half hour, you could say something other than the most obvious!”

  Terrana scowled. Misa scowled back.

  Someone moved up ahead and all of them turned to see who it was. Headmistress Marl was striding down the aisle directly towards them, her face cast in a shadow of inexorable sobriety, which set off alarm bells in their heads. All the teachers were now standing and seemed hyper alert. The students could not fail to recognise that something very serious was happening. They found out what it was when the captain’s voice rang throughout the ship.

  “We apologise for the delay, but due to complications with space traffic and evacuation procedures, we’ve been requested to return to ground. We are now heading back to Minda Yerra.”

  A loud, unified cry vibrated down the ship as students began to panic. “But the wrails are below!” cried a student. “I heard they were multiplying.”

  From their area, Lorn, Terrana, Kalindra, Misa, and Mikin glanced at each other. Fear clearly etched their faces. The stark memory of Mikin’s words returned to them. “If Pa Gumpina cannot clear out the wrails in the next three days, UWIB will vaporise Pa Gumpina!”

  Misa looked as though she wanted to blurt out something, but Kalindra sent her a warning glance, shaking her head.

  “Not a word,” she hissed. “We don’t want to create further panic.” Misa bit down on her lower lip and nodded. There was a sharp lift in their stomachs as the ship star
ted to descend. It was fast, and the students could discern the first rays of light filtering through the small windows.

  “Students, quieten down!” ordered Headmistress Marl. Her voice cut through the ship and quickly quelled the dissent among her students. Her image was also projected throughout every carriage.

  “As you have understood, we are not proceeding to AlKalindrome 77 today. We are returning to Minda Yerra, where you’ll be safest. The defence shields around Minda Yerra have been activated, and nothing can pass through alive, including students, without explicit clearance from the school. As soon as we land, you will form efficient lines and assemble immediately at the great hall, where you’ll be briefed on emergency precautions. To all prefects, you have the important jobs of ensuring that every student is in line as quickly as possible, and accounted for.”

  Misa ventured a question, raising her hand. “How long should we expect to remain at Minda Yerra before we evacuate?”

  Headmistress Marl gave her a hard look. “Two days. During that time we will organise another —”

  Something slammed into the ship, sending Headmistress Marl and the other teachers tumbling down the aisle. There was another violent crash, and the students screamed as they heard the sound of the carriage being pulled apart.

  “Activate your suits now!” Master Drummik shouted. Almost immediately, a helmet came up over every student’s head, and their suits lit up in certain areas as their life support sensors switched on.

  Terrana clung to Kazu as they tumbled violently, and amid the terrified screaming, she heard the screeching sound of metal being pried open. Up ahead, grey light and rain flooded in, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw electricity race along the sides of the carriage. The sudden change in air pressure created a vacuum inside the carriage, and the students screamed as they saw two teachers being sucked out of the ship.

  The rip began mending itself before any other passengers were caught in the vacuum. The students slumped into their pods in relief as metal stretched and melded, welding back together. Headmistress Marl had one hand on the wall, and the other on the ceiling, generating heat to repair the hole. The vessel stabilised as the pressure inside equalised; however, their carriage had separated from the rest of the ship. They were hurtling at blood curdling speed towards the city.