by Andy Mangels
Ava floated blissfully. The entire universe was dark, silent, utterly peaceful.
Then came a sensation of falling, an eternally slow tumble followed by a bone-jarring impact.
And harsh, all-encompassing light.
Using her hands to shield her eyes from the brilliance, she began tentatively to survey her surroundings. She was on her back in a confined space, surrounded by gently sloping walls composed of something translucent. A thick, moist, greenish membrane enveloped over her body. Her environment felt comfortable, familiar.
But the harsh voices she heard speaking just outside those walls sounded anything but. The language was alien to her ears, yet she somehow was making herself understand it. It was almost as though she were able to glimpse directly into the minds of the speakers.
"Well, what have we here? Pod people?" said one of the voices. One of the membranous walls was abruptly torn away, allowing more light to dazzle her still-sensitive eyes.
Squinting against the glare, she saw a pair of faces: men, one in dark apparel, the other wearing something white but soiled.
"It's a girl, can't be more than ten or eleven. And in her birthday suit, too," said the white-garbed man. He looked as surprised as Ava felt. He turned and spoke brusquely to the dark-clad man. "I thought you said you and yer boss din't do this kinda crime, man. “
"We don't, you dope," said the dark-garbed one. "Lookit, Rafe, she's alive. “
"Well, how the hell'd she get in here, Quinn? And what's this green glop she's been sleeping in? Looks like something outta Alien." The white-shirted man reached toward the moist membrane that still covered her, then abruptly drew his hand back in revulsion. "This is disgusting! “
"Watch it!" the other man said, stepping back. "You almost splashed that stuff all over me. This leather jacket cost me a bundle. “
White shirt glared at Black Leather Jacket. "How'd she get in here?" he repeated.
Black Leather Jacket shrugged, then helped Ava get to her feet. The membrane cover around her began oozing, and she wriggled as it sloughed off onto the floor. The white-clad man freed a gray tarp from atop a nearby pallet of boxes, then draped the rough fabric around Ava's naked shoulders. Black Leather steadied her, his callused hands on her shoulders. She shivered, finding his touch repellent.
His hands still clamped onto her shoulders, Black Leather spoke to his companion as though Ava wasn't even present. "You're the one's been moving stuff around in here, Rafe. You tell me how she got here. And why was she in that crate? “
"It's God's own mystery, man. I just stash what my customers bring me. It don't pay to ask too many questions about what's in the crates. Know what I mean? “
The hard floor was cold beneath Ava's feet. She looked around the narrow but high-ceilinged room, a place of poured concrete and concrete blocks, with a rolling metal door that was up completely, letting in the full brightness of the midmorning sun.
It's not the sun ojAntar. I have been brought very far from home. Frustratingly, she could not recall just how this could have come to pass. Or who might have been responsible.
At her feet, amid a tangle of splintered wooden debris, lay a trio of green-tinted translucent pods identical to the one from which Black Leather had just freed her. Though they were as yet unopened, she could see that each one contained a small, slumbering form, not unlike the strange body she now occupied.
Gazing at the three other motionless figures, she felt a stir of memory, though it was confused and sluggish. How long had she lain dormant… gestating?… in that pod? Confused or not, the memory was insistent. The Royal Four. I am one of them. And those three have to be the others.
"Judging from what's in these crates, Rafe, we got three more of these… pod kids on our hands," Black Leather jacket was saying. "They sure look human, but how did they… “
'"Our" hands? No way, man," the other said, interrupting. "If your boss is into buying and selling kids, that's his business. But I don't want no part of it." Soiled White Shirt Man started for the open door.
Black Leather suddenly released Ava, and she almost fell. She watched as he stepped quickly into Soiled White Shirt Man's path, grabbing his shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going, Rafe? “
"Where d'you think, man? To the cops. You wanna run blow and guns through my place… discreetly… that's one thing. You start peddlin' flesh, that's somethin' else completely. “
Black Leather's hand moved quickly, and a long knife appeared in it, as if by magic. White Shirt's eyes went wide. There was a blur of motion, an arc of splattering crimson. A moment later, Black Leather and Ava were the only two people in the little room capable of standing. The other man crumpled to the floor, his legs convulsing as a dark, red liquid streamed from his wound and formed a slowly expanding puddle around him. She knew it was White Shirt's life-blood.
She studied the bloody knife, still clutched in his hand, as he approached. It was the most dangerous- looking thing she could recall ever having seen, either here… wherever here was… or back home on Antar.
She could not recall ever having felt so helpless during her former life. Or was that somebody else's life? It was so hard to be certain of anything, except for her need to get away from the man with the knife.
Her eyes flicked toward the other three pods, still scattered about the floor. She thought of her king, and her destiny. Zan must be in one of them. He has to be.
Black Leather wiped the knife clean on an edge of the tarp that Ava wore, making her wish she could find her voice and scream. She recalled that she should be able to do something to make this evil creature go away. But she had no idea at the moment how she jnight go about doing that.
Folding and pocketing his blade, Black Leather said, "My… former associate there made a good point. True, selling kiddies is a little outta my main line of work, but I'm sure I can find a willing buyer for you and your three friends." He held up his hands and crooked his fingers, motioning in the air. "You could be starring in some special 'movies' real soon." His grin was more of a leer now.
Ava started when she heard something moving behind Black Leather. He quickly turned his head toward the sound.
The other pods were stirring. The naked forms within struggled against the soft, translucent walls.
Black Leather shrugged and knelt beside the nearest pod, which was opening slowly, like some strange flower. A blond-haired girl of about Ava's age was becoming conscious, clawing at the gestational membrane that was her body's only covering. In the pod beside her, a dark-haired boy did the same.
Zan! Ava thought when she saw the boy. And Vilandra! She knew them instinctively, even though their present forms were so different from the ones she knew. They were younger than Black Leather, their skin unwrinkled and pink, rather than gray. Their eyes and heads were a great deal smaller and hairier than their native Antarian forms. Relief and elation swept through her at the sight of them; maybe their presence was a sign that there was a way out of this situation that wouldn't involve any further bloodshed.
In far less time than it had taken Ava, Zan was standing confidently, watching the Black Leather man. Vilandra seemed to take a few moments longer to adjust to her surroundings.
Zan looked deliberately toward Ava, then spoke in Old High Antarian. "My knowledge of how the jour oj us cam here is incomplete. But I believe we were released prematurely from these… gestational chambers. I need to know why. “
Her hand shaking, Ava pointed at Black Leather. "Ask him. He is the one responsible for that. As well as for the death of that being." She gestured toward the bloody corpse that lay on the floor.
Zan looked toward the dead man, then regarded Black Leather with a defiance that Ava could only describe as regal.
"What do you want of us?" Zan said, standing between Black Leather and the two girls.
"Great," Black Leather, said, rolling his bloodshot eyes skyward. The knife suddenly returned to his hand, gleaming in the sunlight. "Not only was my latest merchan
dise over-nighted in on a flying saucer, but it speaks freakin' Klingon, too. Where you from, Tattooine? France? “
He wants to take us as slaves, Ava thought. But first he has to frighten us. She could tell from her relentless shivering that Black Leather's tactic was working very well indeed, at least on her. She despised herself for her timidity.
"Put the knife down," Zan commanded.
Black Leather advanced confidently toward the Antai›-ian king. Though Zan now wore the body of an alien child, he didn't flinch. Instead, he crouched slightly, adopting a knees-bent, combat-ready stance.
Black Leather laughed, though his knife remained pointed straight at Zan's heart.
Please, Ava thought helplessly. Must anyone else die here today? Frantic to find a way out, her eyes lit on the fourth pod, which had lain unnoticed a few feet away during the emergence of Zan and Vilandra.
The shape that had been slumbering within the farthest pod was gone. This time, Ava tried not to telegraph her reaction "Lower the weapon," Zan said to Black Leather, and raised an admonishing hand. "You will not be warned again. “
"Whatever. Maybe you just need a little of the universal language," the thug said, and slashed at the air near Zan's right ear.
The young king continued to stand his ground. "So be it. You have made your choice. Now you must live with it. “
"Or die with it. “
Everyone turned toward the new voice, which seemed to be coming from the depths of the storage shed, an area still cloaked in shadows. A moment later, another naked male child emerged into the light. He was blond, appeared to be about the same age as the others, and seemed, 1 Zan, to fear nothing. So strange, Ava thought, to see such old souls bound up in the bodies of mere children.
The blond boy approached the knife-wielding man without hesitation. Not only did his mien continue to radiate boldness, it seemed to have little room for other emotions, save barely constrained rage. She wondered just j how much of Black Leather's violence he had witnessed.
The youth smiled at the knife wielder. It was a warrior's grin, and Ava felt a chill when she recognized it.
Rath. He must have slipped out of his pod unnoticed.
"Hold, General," Zan commanded, addressing Rath.
Rath continued walking toward Black Leather, halting only a few feet away from him.
"Okay, this is getting truly weird," said the man with, the knife, looking all around him. He had the air of a man who was rapidly losing control of circumstances. "How many more of you Children of the Damned are hiding out in here? Is this some sort of clubhouse for you naked little freaks, or what? “
"You've threatened the person of the king," Rath said, his eyes focused like lasers upon Black Leather.
"Stand down, General," Zan told Rath. "I will handle this. “
Rath behaved as though he hadn't even heard Zan. Still looking Black Leather in the eye, he said, "No one threatens the king, or any of the Royal Four. Not while I live. “
He raised a hand.
"No!" shouted Zan and Ava in unison. Vilandra merely smiled appreciatively at Rath. She had obviously recognized her predestined mate, despite their strangely altered forms.
Black Leather tried to swing his knife arm toward Rath, to no avail. The man was suddenly frozen, like an insect trapped in tree-resin, his eyes widened in fear. Rath made a slashing gesture with his hand, releasing a burst of dazzling light and potent energies. The man flew headfirst into the cinder-block wall, a human projectile.
Ava saw the gray-and-scarlet ruin that had been the knife-mans head. She wondered if he'd had time to feel pain before the end had come.
Rath calmly walked to where Black Leather lay, and helped himself to the dead man's coat. The boy passed a still-glowing hand over the garment's collar and lapels, which had been fouled by blood. A moment later, the coat was spotless.
Zan wasted no time confronting him. "That was not necessary, Rath. I could have disarmed him easily. “
Rath didn't respond immediately; he seemed preoccupied with the act of helping himself to the dead man's trousers and boots. His hands glowing, he used his innate power to resize the garments. In moments, they were a near-perfect fit for his smaller form.
Picking up the dead man's knife, Rath finally looked Zan in the eye. "He might have come after you later, if we'd let him live. This creature was too dangerous for mercy. “
"I decide on the Royal Four's actions, Rath. Not you," Zan said.
"Zan is right," Vilandra said, pointing toward the ruined skull of the man Rath had just slain. She sounded disappointed that she'd had to take the king's side in this dispute. "If this… creature still lived, we might have pulled something useful from out of its mind. “
An idea occurred to Ava then. Walking carefully around the wreckage of the crates and the opened gestation pods, she crossed to the body of the white-garbed man whom the knife-wielder had slain. Forcing aside the sick feeling in her gut, she knelt beside the body and touched its still-warm forehead.
Rath didn't seem to notice what Ava was doing. "Forgive me," he said to Vilandra in a sneering tone. "It didn't occur to me to negotiate with the local wildlife. “
Ava looked down at her hands. Like Rath's, they now glowed with raw, unfocused power. We are still but children on this world. It will probably take us some time to master our Antarian gifts again.
But she knew there wouldn't be any time for that. They were out of the safety of their gestation pods, ready or not. They were naked and defenseless in a strange place, and they needed help now.
As carefully as she could, Ava reached out with her mind, gently probing whatever wisps remained of the dead man's thoughts.
It was as though she'd fallen into an erupting volcano. Though his body no longer breathed, his brain, now in the midst of shutting down, was a frenetic beehive of activity. She was caught in a whirlpool of memories. School, language, parents, lovers, children, music, history, maps… The onslaught was relentless, a gale-force blizzard of disjointed thought. A brilliant light silently called out to her, tugging at her with an inexplicable gravity. She screamed, suddenly fearful that the dying man was dragging her to her own destruction. Her mind scrabbled desperately away from the light, seeking the shelter of darkness.
When she came back to herself, Ava was sitting on the floor. Zan, Vilandra, and Rath knelt at her side, concern etched across their youthful-yet-ancient faces.
After glancing at the still form of the man whose death had nearly taken her life as well, Ava looked questioningly toward Zan.
He shook his head sadly, then spoke in the Old High Tongue. "I feel that I should be able to, but I can't heal him. “
"I hope his death was not in vain," she replied.
Rath scowled. "This world is probably filled with death. Best to get used to it now. “
"What were you able to learn?" Zan asked Ava, ignoring Rath's harshness.
Willing her chin not to tremble, Ava took Zan's and Vilandra's hands. Vilandra and Zan also clasped hands with Rath, completing the circle. "I think I've absorbed at least one of the main local languages. Let me pass it along to all of you." Ava reached out with her mind. She felt a charge of indescribable energy coursing away from her body, through her friends, and back again.
Zan nodded, and the foursome released one another's hands. When he spoke after a long pause, it was in the tongue Ava had heard the two dead men speak. "I think we all know this place now… this New York City… as well as any of the locals do. “
Only then did Ava notice that all four of them were now wearing clothing similar to that of the leather-clad man whom Rath had killed. She glanced inquisitively at Rath, who still wore the slain man's garments. He shrugged and looked embarrassed.
Also in this world's native tongue, Vilandra said, "Before you woke up, Rath transmuted that nasty tarp you were wearing into something a little more appropriate for us all… or at least he tried to. “
Zan examined his own leather-and-denim ensemble, w
hich Ava thought made him look both dangerous and vaguely ridiculous. He seemed to have forgiven Rath for his earlier indiscretion. "I'm not sure how well we're going to fit in here, dressed like this. “
"Give me a break," Rath said. "A minute ago, I didn't even know I had that power. You were expecting Madison Avenue on my very first try?" Ava was impressed at how quickly Rath had picked up some of the local idioms.
Ava suddenly remembered an image she had seen in the knifed man's dying mind. Panic surged within her. "Other people are going to be coming here soon. Cowork-ers. Customers. We have to get out of this place. Now. “
Zan pointed to the wreckage on the floor. "We can't just leave the pods lying here. Someone might trace them to us. “
"So?" Vilandra asked.
"There is too much we don't yet understand about this world, sister. We should take no unnecessary risks. “
"We'll just take the pods along with us," Ava said, knowing how lame that sounded, Zan's approval notwithstanding. After all, the pods were large and heavy, at least in comparison with four small, relatively weak bodies.
Rath threw up his hands and glared at Ava. "Fine. Where do you propose we drag the pods off to? We can't exactly check into the Waldorf. “
Ava suddenly felt more of the dead man's memories stirring and moving within the depths of her mind. All at once, they came into sharper focus. Turning to Zan, she said, "There's a big storm drain in the back parking lot. It leads down into the sewers. We could drag the pods down there and keep them out of sight. “
Vilandra looked horrified. "The sewers. “
"It's better than having more of those taking an interest in us," Ava said, pointing at the dead knife-man. "If we leave the pods here, that's almost sure to happen. “
Rath smiled savagely. Raising a glowing fist, he said, "Bring 'em on. “
"The sewers?" Vilandra repeated. "You can't be serious. The freaking sewers? “
Zan began pushing one of the gestation pods toward the open door. Apparently satisfied that it was far lighter than it appeared, he turned back to face the group. "If others are coming, let's avoid confrontation," he said, to Ava's immense relief. "The sewers it is. “
