When the outer door of the airlock irised open, a wave of hot dry air gusted in and took Lucien’s breath away. The alien smells were overpowering but also fascinating—sickly sweet, gamy, and acrid all at the same time.
Something in the scenery beyond the airlock shifted and clicked in Lucien’s brain, and suddenly he saw the host of nightmarish black birds waiting for them on the plateau where they’d landed; their dark leathery skin made them blend almost perfectly against the gleaming black rocks of the mountains.
Lucien waited for Katawa to lead them down the ramp from the airlock. Garek nudged him between the shoulder blades, and he remembered that Katawa was supposed to be posing as a Faro slave.
Lucien took the lead, He started down the ramp toward the assembled aliens, trying hard to hide his growing unease. If the Mokari killed him, he wasn’t going to come back to life in a cloned body like he would on Astralis, or like a real Faro probably could.
One of the Mokari stepped forward to greet him. It walked on two skinny, multiply-jointed legs, using the bony tips of its wings for added stability to give it what seemed to be four legs instead of two.
Besides the obvious difference of wings, the Mokari had startlingly humanoid bodies: two eyes, two arms, two ears...
The differences were almost easier to count than the similarities; they had big, sunken red eyes, and bony faces with protruding, beak-like mouths, and sharp white teeth that were always bared in a predatory grin.
Lucien was already wearing a translator band, but the Mokari wasn’t, so he produced the spare from his robes and held it out. The alien tossed its head and clacked its teeth, followed by a loud chittering sound.
The sounds automatically connected to meaning in Lucien’s brain thanks to his translator.
“No need Faro magic,” the Mokari said. “You leaving now, or dying now. Choose.”
Lucien blinked, taken aback by the alien’s hostility. The databanks on the Specter said that the Faros had subjugated the Mokari. They should be more deferential—unless something had changed since the records had last been updated. He hadn’t thought to check the date stamp.
Or maybe this Mokari was testing him. Lucien decided to gamble on that. He stood his ground and shook the translator band at the alien.
The Mokari tossed its head again and screeched.
This time the sound didn’t connect to meaning in Lucien’s brain, but he didn’t need a translation to understand that he was in trouble.
The bird jumped up and flapped its massive wings with a violent gust of air. It hovered easily in front of him, buffeting him with gusts from its massive wings. Its wingspan had to be at least thirty feet. It hovered there, studying him with those red eyes, and cocking its head from side to side, as if trying to decide which part of him would be the tastiest.
That went on for only a second or two before another untranslatable screech tore out of the Mokari’s chest, setting Lucien’s teeth on edge. He felt Addy’s hands on him, pulling him back.
“Get back inside the airlock!” she whispered.
But Lucien held his ground. He shook the translator at the Mokari once more. “Take it, you ugly kakard!” he roared. The alien wouldn’t understand him, but he hoped it would grasp something from his tone.
The Mokari’s red eyes flashed like daggers in the night, and the alien swooped forward. It knocked him over and stood on his chest, threatening to break his ribs with its weight. Its talons stabbed through his skin, drawing hot rivers of blood. Lucien gasped from the pain, but found he couldn’t suck in another breath. The Mokari was too heavy. He couldn’t breathe!
The monster regarded the crimson pools of blood around its feet, its head cocked curiously to one side, and jaws slightly agape. The Mokari’s red eyes were narrowed, as if with intense interest. Addy ran behind the creature and began beating it on the head with her fists, but the Mokari took no interest in her. It was fixated on him—on his blood. It could probably smell it.
Lucien’s whole body went cold. He’d miscalculated, and badly. Addy screamed and intensified her assault. Both Garek and Brak ran into view, and grabbed the Mokari by its wings to pull it off him, but they were too late.
The Mokari’s head snapped down, jaws gaping wide, and Lucien cringed, waiting for the searing bite that would rip out his throat and end his life.
Chapter 24
Mokar
A long green tongue flicked out of the Mokari’s mouth. It lapped Lucien’s blood from one of the pools around its feet, and withdrew sharply, chittering at him.
“Blood red. Not blue. Or black. Taste good,” it said.
Lucien grimaced from the pain still radiating from his chest. Brak, Garek, and Addy were pulling on the Mokari’s wings as hard as they could to get the creature off him, but they weren’t getting anywhere.
The Mokari glanced over its shoulder at them, and flapped its wings to shake them off. All three went flying.
The alien returned its full attention to Lucien, its head cocked curiously. It chittered something else. “Not Faro?”
Then Lucien got it. His holoskin did nothing to disguise his blood. It was red, not blue, or black as the Mokari had said.
Lucien decided to take a risk. Using what little air he’d managed to suck in despite the crushing weight of the Mokari standing on his chest, he croaked out, “Not Faro. Human.”
The Mokari cocked its head to the other side. “Look like Faro.” Lucien’s head swam and dark spots crowded his vision. He had no strength left for a reply.
Addy ran up and crouched beside him. “It’s a disguise!” she screamed, and deactivated her holoskin, revealing her human features once more.
The Mokari screeched and rocked back on its heels. Its talons dug even deeper into Lucien’s chest as it did so. A guttural cry burst like a living thing from his lips, taking what little air he had left.
“Get off him!” Addy said. “We’re not your enemies! We come in peace!”
The Mokari stepped off Lucien’s chest, and he sucked in a deep breath. His ribs ached sharply as his lungs filled with air, and more blood bubbled from his stinging wounds, hot and wet, soaking his robes.
A small shadow came and crouched on the other side of him—Katawa. The little alien wiped away Lucien’s blood with the beige fabric of his robe, and sprayed his wounds with an aerosol of some kind.
The wounds bubbled, then sealed with a translucent resin, and the pain was replaced by a pleasant tingling.
Lucien sat up and glared at the Mokari who’d attacked him. Addy helped him to his feet.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Lucien shook his head. “Fine,” he grunted. Then added in a softer tone, “Sorry. Thank you for defending me.”
Addy nodded mutely, her eyes full of concern. Garek and Brak walked back up the ramp and stood to either side of them.
Lucien found his spare translator band lying a few feet down the ramp and went to retrieve it. The Mokari watched him curiously out of one eye as he walked by.
Lucien held the band out to the alien once more. “Take it,” he insisted.
And to his surprise, this time the Mokari did so, grabbing the band in over-large, three-fingered hands that tapered into vicious-looking claws. The alien placed the band behind its head, above its dish-shaped ears. Apparently this Mokari already had experience using the translators.
“Finally,” Lucien breathed, wincing as that exhalation provoked a sharp ache from the right side of his rib cage. He clapped a hand to that side and leaned the other way to take the weight off his injured ribs.
“Death final. Not dead. Not final.” The Mokari said, proving it could finally understand him—but obviously only in the most literal sense. “What you?” it asked.
Lucien struggled with the clipped phrases of the Mokari. Clearly universal translators weren’t a panacea for language barriers.
“What am I?” he suggested.
The Mokari chittered. “Yes. What you?”
“I’m...
” Lucien trailed off, noting that his holoskin was still active. He touched a hand to each of the glowing golden bands on his arms to deactivate the holoskin, and his true human features re-appeared.
The Mokari screeched and glanced sharply at Addy. “False skins. Evil Faro magic. Why use? Not Faro.”
Suddenly Lucien found himself wondering the same thing. After the dubious welcome they’d received while disguised as Faros, it seemed like they’d have had better luck greeting the Mokari as humans to start with. He glanced at Katawa, who lifted the top of his shadow robe to reveal his over-sized gray head.
The Mokari took a quick step back, and almost fell off the ramp. It had to flap its wings to regain its balance.
“Gray god!” it chittered, bowing its head and kneeling before Katawa.
Lucien glared at Katawa. “You almost got us killed for nothing! The Mokari obviously hate the Faros, but not other aliens, and they do recognize your species.”
The little gray alien blinked its giant eyes at him. “I was mistaken. I apologize.”
The Mokari raised its nightmarish head and snapped its jaws at Lucien, glaring at him with one red eye. “Respect gray god. Or death.”
Lucien scowled. “Of course.” He turned back to Katawa and mimicked the Mokari’s submissive posture, all the while fuming inside.
“How do you know about us—the gray gods?” Katawa asked.
“Many songs.”
“Your songs about us are very old, some as old as ten thousand years,” Katawa objected. “You should have forgotten by now.”
“Some songs old. Some songs new. Songs still sung. Gray gods recent. Hard forget.”
Katawa nodded and turned to Lucien. “My people were here recently. That explains why I heard of a Mokari legend about us that is only one hundred and sixty years old. The implication is that my people stayed here in the Gakol System for a very long time.”
“If that’s true,” Lucien said, “and the Grays left because the Faros found them here, then the Faros must know these Mokari songs, too, and that means they’ve already followed them to wherever they lead.”
Katawa turned back to the Mokari. “Have the Faros heard your songs?”
“Not worthy listen. Why gray god return Mokar?” The Mokari asked, its head canting from side to side.
“I returned to hear your songs about the gray gods, and of the one who flew with them among the stars.”
The Mokari tossed its head. “You seek others like you.”
“Yes,” Katawa replied.
“Not see Gray Gods for many suns.”
“What does that mean? Many suns?” Addy asked.
“Many years,” Katawa replied. Nodding to the Mokari, he asked, “What is your sound?”
The Mokari threw back its head, and uttered a loud cry. Lucien guessed that the question was analogous to what is your name?
The Mokari’s sound was impossible for him to repeat exactly, but Katawa gave a good approximation. “Aakee?”
The Mokari canted its head to one side and nodded once.
“Can you help us, Aakee?” Lucien asked.
The Mokari glared at him for an uncomfortably long second, then turned back to Katawa. “Come gray god. We sing. You listen. We eat. Our honor you stay.”
Katawa smiled. “My honor to listen,” he replied.
Aakee turned and walked down the ramp, back to the waiting ranks of his fellows. Katawa followed, and the rest of them trailed a few steps behind. The Mokari parted for them as they approached. Garek deactivated his holoskin to avoid ruffling their feathers—so to speak—and Brak lifted the top of his robe to reveal his skull-shaped head. The Mokari saw Brak for the first time and screeched at him. He roared back, and they spread their wings in agitation. They watched him, red eyes glaring and heads cocking every which way.
Brak bared his black teeth in a grin. “I like these Mokari,” he said. “They want to eat me, and I want to eat them. It is good to be among like-minded beings.”
Lucien frowned. “If you say so.”
Garek glanced at them. Between his bald head and scarred face he looked fearsome enough that he seemed to fit right in with the Mokari’s eat-or-be-eaten culture. “We should go back for our exosuits,” he said in a low voice.
“And leave Katawa alone with the Mokari?” Addy asked.
“He seems to be able to handle himself,” Garek replied. “They think he’s a god. They’re not going to eat him. We’ll catch up.”
“Your suits will anger the Mokari and make them more likely to attack you,” Katawa said. “False skins, remember? Stay. They will not harm you as long as you are with me.”
“For someone who’s never been here before, you seem pretty confident of what to expect,” Garek replied.
“I have met their people before, on other worlds. One of them shared the same master with me. He was an assassin. I was a doctor. We used to share meals together. That is how I first heard of their legends and songs.”
“A killer and a healer became friends,” Garek said. “Sounds like the proverbial lion and the lamb to me.”
“The what?” Addy asked.
“Am I the only one who’s read the Etherian Codices?”
“If we were faithful enough to do that, we wouldn’t have left the Etherian Empire in the first place,” Addy replied.
“Katawa, what exactly do the Mokari legends say about you?” Lucien asked, while keeping an eye on the unending lines of Mokari to either side of them. Aakee seemed in no hurry to get wherever he was going. They walked past one mud-grass mound after another, heading for one of the larger mounds on the plateau.
“They say that we are the creators of their world, that we created the Mokari suns and the stars, and that we control fire, wind, and rain.”
Garek snorted. “I wonder how they got that impression.”
Katawa glanced at him. “Legend says that when we came here with the Etherian Fleet, we made the stars fall. Mokar still bears the scars of that incident. Since then, the Mokari have a healthy respect for us.”
“Falling stars, huh?” Garek mused. “I bet that was just—”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Lucien said, cutting Garek off before he could poke a hole in the Mokaris’ beliefs. “We came to listen to what the Mokari have to say.”
“Yeah...” Garek nodded, while watching the serried ranks of Mokari to either side of them. “Point taken.”
They could all guess what falling stars meant. There had been a battle and the debris had rained down over Mokar—or maybe one of the Etherian ships had experienced a critical failure after reaching orbit that resulted in it falling from the sky and breaking up in the atmosphere. Whatever the case, the devastation had obviously been significant enough to trigger Mokari superstitions.
Later on, taking one or more of the Mokari on board the Etherian ships had probably only reinforced their ideas about the Grays’ deity. If the Grays had arrived on Earth and taken primitive humans into space, whole religions would have sprung up around them, too.
Aakee reached the mud-grass mound that was their destination and disappeared through a large circular opening near the ground. More circular openings pocked the outside of the mound at various heights for windows or possibly higher-level entrances.
They passed inside the mound and found the floor padded with dried grass. The structure was huge. Dozens of mud-grass chairs adorned the space, each of them piled high with dried grass. Aakee went to sit on one of them. He folded his legs and wings, seeming to shrink into himself as he settled into the chair.
Mokari came streaming in on all sides—some swooping in through circular holes in the dome-shaped ceiling, others walking in at ground level. The other Mokari joined Aakee, quickly occupying all of the empty chairs. Katawa went to what was roughly the center of the room, and took a seat in one of the few remaining chairs, leaving Lucien and the others to stand around him. Katawa glanced their way and gestured for them to sit.
Lucien did as he was tol
d, and promptly winced as his bruised ribs reminded him they were there. Addy and Garek sat on either side of him, but Brak remained standing, despite a scathing look from Katawa.
A few moments later, the Mokari began to sing. It started with just one of them raising its head to the ceiling and exhaling with a sound like a flute. Then another joined in, and another, followed by a dozen more. Their voices rose and fell in perfect, melodic harmony.
To Lucien’s surprise, his translator began assembling lyrics in his brain, and a kind of story emerged.
Mokar is all.
One nest. One people. One sky.
Sky is torn.
Stars fall and fires burn.
Life is lost and ashes fly.
Death and sadness.
Gods appear from sky. Gray as smoke. Tiny.
Mokari lifted up, higher than sky.
Sky turns black.
Stars bright and many.
Mokar small.
Mokar gone.
New nests. New peoples. New skies.
Everything different.
All is new.
Mokari see.
Mokari know.
Mokar not all.
Gray gods return.
Death no more.
Life forever.
Life for all.
Death no more.
Life forever.
Life for all.
The song went on, speaking about how great and wonderful the gray gods were.
“What the is all that krak supposed to mean?” Garek muttered.
Lucien shook his head. “I can’t make sense of it.”
“I can,” Addy said.
Both of them turned to her.
“Well—I think I can,” Addy said. “They’re talking about how the Mokari thought their world was the only one, and they thought their people were the only people. Then the Grays came, raining fire on their world—debris maybe?”
Dark Space Universe (Book 2): The Enemy Within Page 17
