by Sulin Young
Outside, the wrail continued its attack on Niku, nearly severing his hind leg while dripping liquid fire onto his face. The brudisaurius shrieked as his face burned, but he could no longer move.
Niku was scared. He was blind, and he couldn’t sense his beloved Bagruth anywhere nearby. He didn’t like being alone either, and as the rain washed the blood off him, a deep sense of abandonment filled him, confusing him and making him feel heart-achingly forgotten. His heart and spirit broke.
Lying on the road in his own puddle of blood, unable to cry out as the wrail chewed into him, Niku surrendered to the darkness.
I did not forget you, stupid!
A familiar rough tongue licked him gently on the head, and though he couldn’t see, overwhelming joy coursed through Niku. It crushed the darkness, forcing tears through his eyes. Niku was a big, simple-minded animal; the mere presence of a friend by his side was enough for him to know he was loved. He could now sleep happily.
Kazu’s stare was the equivalent of a thousand hot needles piercing a person’s soul. The wrail felt a moment of fear and stepped back as it tried to make sense of the angry kitten staring up at it.
The silver-striped ball of fury hissed, and it didn’t seem so small anymore.
Kazu is going to kill you.
Kazu grew before the wrail’s eyes, his coat transforming into velassium.
The wrail would not have believed that, ten minutes earlier, this threatening creature had been mewing pitifully and feeling sorry for himself.
44
Pa Gumpina’s fall
Terrana!
Kazu tried his best to project his thoughts across to his mistress, who was being carried through the air like a bird that had swallowed rocket fuel. At the same time, he harboured murderous thoughts towards the school master who was taking her away from him. It didn’t help that his legs were short, and he had to dodge between the countless alien freaks that seemed intent on stepping on him. With a sinking heart, he realised he wouldn’t be able to catch up to his mistress, and he watched her grow smaller and smaller until she became a dot and vanished.
He sat down suddenly and meowed pitifully. Above him, jet fighters and soldiers in mobile suits crisscrossed the sky as they waged a desperate battle against the wrails. Weapon fire, bombs, and even nets were being deployed against the enemy. A foul stench pervaded the air and Kazu flicked his tail in disgust. A large shadow passed over him and he looked up to see an enormous creature glide by, dripping a strange, burning liquid from its mouth. Kazu hissed as some of it landed nearby, charring deep holes into the ground as it seeped through. Everywhere he looked, there was smoke, fire, and ruined buildings.
A large platoon of foot soldiers in mobile suits approached from the opposite direction of the passing wrail, and there was a sudden eruption of weapons fire accompanied by screaming. Kazu growled, but remained where he was, which was out of sight, as he watched half the platoon roast in their suits, while the other half was attacked by the advancing herd of afflicted citizens who were trying to eat through their armour.
Liquid flames rushed through the street like a tidal wave; no one was spared from the giant wrail’s wrath. Kazu had the sense to flee to higher ground the moment he noticed the wrail’s chest swelling. There was no point in looking back to observe the senseless deaths, so Kazu bounded away along the city’s many walkways, heading to the last place he had seen Terrana. He had no wish to encounter the menacing, evil creature that had destroyed an entire platoon of soldiers with one breath, and he was determined not to — until he heard Niku’s terrible shriek.
His big, gentle playmate was in agony, and Kazu wanted to help him. Niku was invincible, a powerhouse that could crash through trees and stomp over whales, and there was not much that could stand up to him unless … the memory of the fire-breathing wrail came back to him.
Without hesitating, Kazu turned and sprinted towards the cry of impending death. Aided by the conveying walkways, he reached Niku in mere minutes. When he saw his hulking, dumb friend twitching on the ground with the light slowly diminishing from his cloudy eyes, a rage like no other flooded Kazu.
The wrail stumbled back, terrified of the silver-striped creature advancing slowly. They had been fighting for several minutes, but with each minute, the wrail sensed its life was getting shorter. Blood dripped off Kazu’s back, but it wasn’t his. Deep scars appeared in the road where he stepped, unable to cope with the alien material known as velassium. Kazu didn’t even appear to be a living creature; he was neither warm nor cold-blooded. Compared to the monstrous wrail, he was tiny, the mere size of a full-grown tiger. A very angry one.
Unable to understand why its flames failed to affect the feline, the wrail took to the air. It flapped its gigantic wings and lifted off the ground, hoping to escape to the open sky where it was king. But Kazu would have none of it. He bounded off the sides of the buildings, using his legs to propel him high into the air and straight onto the wrail’s head.
The wrail screeched in pain as velassium claws scored its head open. Liquid flames exploded from its throat, melting anything that was unlucky enough to lie in its path. Suddenly it choked, beating its wings erratically, and collided with several buildings before crashing to the ground. As it lay dying on the road, a cold vapour escaped its gaping jaws, gradually covering its entire body. As the rain beat down, the wrail melted away completely, leaving a lonely little kitten standing in the mist.
Kazu meowed sadly and looked around, sniffing the air. The scent of his dying friend drifted over to him and he ran back to Niku.
Terrana placed one hand on the window looking down at the vanishing planet, and her heart went out to everyone remaining below. Even from the darkness of the In-Between, she could see the tiny sparks of explosions across the city, and the swarms of mosquitoes that were the fighter ships and wrails clashing in the sky.
Kazu! She had heard his thoughts when Meldogan had loomed over her, when she had felt T2 struggling to come out. His cries had broken through her internal struggle with T2, and had helped to push the dark girl back into her slumbering depths. She could no longer hear him now and she clenched her fists. How could I have abandoned Kazu like that? How could I have abandoned all of them, to leave them fighting for their lives on the planet while I rocketed away? Are they all right? Are they still alive?
Those thoughts tortured her and she wanted to scream and kick out in frustration. A reflection appeared on the window in front of her and her face settled into a commendable impression of a rock. Right now she wasn’t very happy with Master Drummik, and neither did she like the way his blue eyes seemed to pierce her very being, as if he could hear her every thought.
Master Drummik hid a sigh. He had doubts about the wisdom of placing Terrana on a ship that was headed to the very being who, if he broke out of his prison and learned of her existence, would kill her on sight. Even though they didn’t have much of a choice, he was not sure that justified the decision. He recalled his discussion with the grandmaster.
Grandmaster Deitrux, wouldn’t it be better if you dropped Terrana and me off at the next planet?
That would pose a problem for us, Drummik. The Council has put all transport leaving Pa Gumpina on the red alert list. We do not have clearance to go to any other planet, but no one will not try to stop us from entering the Voron Cloud. Anyway, the five L-Masters on board have already noticed the girl. Unfortunately, one of them has already met her. I have told them that you and Terrana were overwhelmed by the wrails and sought refuge on this ship. Of course, I could not abandon the both of you to the wrails.
That had wounded Drummik’s pride. Now he had to contend with a ship full of lacers and weavers smirking over his shortcomings as a protector. While the weavers understood the predicament and pretended arrogance, the lacers snubbed him. They had no idea of Master Drummik’s identity as an Imeldor, and the Imeldors preferred it that way.
Shaking off thoughts about his wounded pride, Drummik hesitantly placed a ha
nd on Terrana’s shoulder.
“They’re survivors,” he said, referring to Lorn and Mikin. “They’ll be all right. The people of Pa Gumpina are tough.”
“Is it true that UWIB will annihilate Pa Gumpina if we cannot destroy all the wrails in three days?”
“Yes.”
“There are thousands of them, and we don’t know which type is infecting the people. All the ships are being prevented from leaving the planet. Can you honestly say they’ll be okay? Even if there are survivors, what good is that if UWIB is going to blast them out of this world anyway?”
“Have a little faith, Terrana.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Headmistress Marl is down there with Master Kuldor. Grandmaster Deitrux has placed a lot of faith in them and believes they’ll pull through. I do too.”
He took a deep breath and tried to lighten the mood. “This ship has a lot of amenities — you won’t be bored. We can conduct lessons and continue with your Kampu training. It’s important to train your muscles when you’re in the In-Between for long periods.”
“I miss my friends. And I miss Mum, Dad, and Archie. I miss them so badly. Will I ever see them again?”
“Terrana …”
“And Baneyon. Baneyon’s gone, Master Drummik. He was supposed to take care of me after my family died, he was supposed to stick around for a long time, but he’s gone. It’s not fair. None of them deserved to die.”
“It’s an answer you can only come to understand by living, Terrana. And perhaps it won’t be as painful as you expect it to be.”
They both stood by the window, looking out at Pa Gumpina, and even when it vanished from their sight completely, they remained there, wondering about their friends and colleagues, and whether the planet would still exist in three days. They would have no way of knowing until they returned from the Voron Cloud — if they returned.
45
The Voron Cloud
“You’re focusing too hard. Relax your mind or you’ll end up breaking another glass.”
Too late. Master Drummik watched as the glass exploded on the table, and Terrana stomped around in frustration after witnessing her latest attempt at telekinesis fail miserably. Her eyes felt like two burning coals in her face, her brain felt like mush, and she was exhausted. They were four days into their voyage, and she felt as though she had been trapped on the ship forever.
An energy bar was thrust into her face and she looked up.
“Here, eat. We’ll stop here for today.”
Terrana scowled, but did not refuse the bar. Instead, she tore it up hungrily and swallowed it in three bites. A drink was also put her way and she gulped it down. Slowly, she began to feel her body return to normal; her eyes cooled down and the throbbing in her head waned.
Telekinesis sucked, or more accurately, distant-qi manipulation. ‘DQ’ or ‘duk’, as it was known among the students. She glanced at the shattered glass remorsefully. That had been her fiftieth. Even as she watched, Master Drummik effortlessly gathered the pieces together into a large metallic container and reduced them to a liquid before reshaping them into individual masterpieces. They were perfect replicas in weight, size, and appearance.
Terrana picked up one of the cooled glasses, twisting it under the light so that it sparkled.
“What would happen if I tried to duk a person?”
“I recommend that you don’t. Not unless you have an interest in anatomy. You’re focusing your qi in the wrong place, and you’re forcing it with your mind rather than just feeling the energy around you.”
That was Master Drummik’s way of telling her that she had just flunked his lesson. She scowled and put the glass down.
“I’m going to the observatory.”
“I’ll see you there soon.”
Terrana nodded and headed out of the padded training room, ignoring the tremors that had constantly plagued the ship ever since they had entered the Voron Cloud. One hundred and forty four hours had passed since they had penetrated the terrifying purple mass that hovered on the edge of Dartkala. Everyone had gathered together like a massive tumour to witness their historic moment, or what could have been the end of their existence. But the pendant held true to its powers; it protected the ship and everyone in it. The passengers of the Dark Star had given a collective sigh of relief when they realised the pendant had not let them down, but they also knew their successful journey was due to the astute management of Grandmaster Deitrux, who remained cooped up for most of the time on the bridge, with the captain and crew members.
As she negotiated the turns and chutes of the Dark Star, Terrana felt a tinge of sorrow thinking about the pendant. It had been her only memento of Puddy and home, and now it was no longer with her. Grandmaster Deitrux could not promise to return it to her either. She thought back to her conversation with him.
“Did you kill Nashim?”
“No. I sent him to another place instead. It is nearly impossible to defeat him, not when he can draw on the pendant’s power despite it being broken.”
“But you managed to steal back the tonien and the pendant, didn’t you?”
“Just the tonien. Nashim disappeared into the void with Namasar’s pendant.”
“The void? You sent him into the void while you were in the city fighting him?”
“Yes.”
“So where in the void is he?”
“To be honest, I don’t really know. Terrana … try to stay out of the L-Masters’ way, okay? The less they know about you the better.”
“I understand. Grandmaster Deitrux, how long will we be in the cloud?”
“I don’t know that either. It could be days, months, or even years. No one has ever succeeded in penetrating this deep into the Voron Cloud.”
Terrana hadn’t liked the sound of that. They could die in the cloud before they ever found the Dream Walker! In the meantime, she had no idea whether her friends were still alive on Pa Gumpina. The ship’s communication system was down. While everyone had expected it to fail eventually because of the lack of satellite walls in the cloud, they had the fright of their lives when the Dark Star’s main engines also failed, but it had simply been the pendant overriding the ship’s power source.
The Dark Star was flying solely on pendant power, which caused a lot of tension between the Imeldors and L-Masters.
That an artefact of such immense power rested in the grandmaster’s hands aroused anxiety and envy in the others; it didn’t help that he spent most of his time away from them, sealed in on the ship’s bridge. The pendant generated a power incorporating electrical energy and a river of qi, its type never witnessed before. Whatever was not protected by it, was destroyed. It explained how they could travel through the cloud — the pendant’s power destroyed the purple matter that would otherwise have consumed them.
The tonien added further complications to the situation, but at least Grandmaster Deitrux was able to project its mapping system across the training room. No surprise that it was also up on the bridge, where it rotated slowly in the air. The Ancient Ones had entrusted only Grandmaster Deitrux with the key, and they warned him to never leave it alone while activated. He soon discovered why. The tonien was set to auto self-destruct if he moved more than five metres away from it. That didn’t pose so much of a problem except that he couldn’t move the tonien while it was activated and, of course, being in the Voron Cloud meant that he could not afford to deactivate it. Such was the grandmaster’s predicament.
Terrana came to an elevator chute that would take her up to the fifth level of the observatory deck. Next to it was a studded wall, like those found in indoor rock-climbing stadiums, and a rope trellis. The wall and trellis went up to the fifth level also. Terrana didn’t question why they were there, it was obvious. She was restless anyway and she had to admit she missed Kampu training.
In fact, since being on board, she had thrown herself into as much physical training as possible — it tempered her grief for Baneyon. Robbed of the chance to grieve properly for him,
she felt like a dry husk, ready to crumble at any moment. Soon, she had promised herself. Soon, she would honour him properly, but right now everyone’s life was in danger. She had to think of them first. She grabbed the rope and began pulling herself up.
When she finally reached the observatory deck, she crawled away from the edge of the wall, unwilling to leave any part of her limbs hanging over the side. The climb had exhausted her and she felt she no longer had any bones in her body. Her legs seemed like elastic, and she couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t just droop all the way to the bottom.
“That took you a while,” said Master Drummik, leaning against a column.
Terrana wondered whether her heart had a mind of its own as it hammered hard at her chest, screaming to be let out.
“On the contrary, I thought she did rather well,” said a female voice.
L-Master Eliksha Bakshur walked into the observatory, and Terrana glanced at her in surprise. While she knew that Eliksha was on the ship, Terrana had been trying to stay out of her way because she knew all the L-Masters were suspicious of her and wanted to find out the real reason she was on board. They had first met in a café in Pophusia before she had started school at Minda Yerra, and even back then the woman had been trying to learn more about Terrana and even hinted that Baneyon had been trying to hide her from the L-Masters.
Terrana tried her best to act natural. Eliksha and the other L-Masters knew nothing of her powers and her relationship to the Dream Walker, and Terrana was determined to keep it that way.
Eliksha walked over and offered a hand, which Terrana accepted. She was pulled up with surprising strength and greeted by a kiss on each cheek.
“You always seem to be running off somewhere on this ship so, now we are face to face, I was hoping we could have a chat,” said Elisha, gazing at Terrana with piercing eyes.
“I didn’t want to get in your way,” Terrana lied glibly. “I know you have an important mission.”
Eliksha smiled. “Why would you be in my way? We’re on this ship together, we have no idea how long we’ll be living in it — company is something we could all do with.”
