Eaters of the Light

by J. Edward Neill

  Even if none of them knew it, I understood their fear of me.

  I’m not human.

  Their religion teaches loathing of intelligences other than their own.

  They’ve believed these things since birth.

  Their beliefs have kept them alive.

  The alarm sounded again. It thrummed in the cavern beyond the mess room, and its echoes shook the floor. Strope stood beside me to watch the room clear. In a storm of white robes, the pilots and soldiers swept past and out into the barracks.

  “Two months,” said Strope once the room had emptied. “Every day – sixteen hours of flight sims. They’re exhausted, but they’re ready.”

  Sixteen hours every day.

  And Hermes’ days are only twenty-one hours long.

  “They’ll get plenty of rest in hypo-sleep,” he continued. “And plenty of time to make peace with the idea of never seeing their families again. I’m guessing you’re used to that feeling, aren’t you? Losing everyone every time you travel into the stars? We used to only take soldiers who had little or no family. But now is…different.”

  I closed my eyes. He was generous to suggest I’d ever had loved ones.

  “For me, it was only hard once,” I said. “Coming back…knowing what I’d lost. But that was long, long ago. Since then, I’ve been careful. No friends. No connections.”

  “No lovers?” he said. I looked at him, expecting a smile. He wore none.

  “Especially none of those,” I said.

  In silence, he finished his cup of amino juice and waved at me to follow. We left the mess room as it was – a mess, and we entered the grand tunnel beyond. Most of the pilots were already plugged into their sim machines. A few stood against the stone walls, gazing with respect at their commander, and with curiosity at me.

  “It’s time,” said Strope as we walked.

  “Time for you to explain our mission,” I said.

  “Yes.” He smirked. “That.”

  We climbed toward the cavern’s top. The great circular door we’d entered loomed ahead, but before reaching it we took a sudden left turn. Down, down into a warren of stone corridors and dim passages we went.

  I’d grown accustomed to everything in the mountain fortress being washed out by white light.

  But in the tunnels, the world was comfortably dark.

  In the lowest corridor, beyond some fifty sealed doors, we reached a dead-end. Strope tapped a tiny console with his fingertip, and a slender portal hissed open.

  We entered a tiny room. Its walls were pale stone, and its only light radiating from two portable lamps. A white marble table sat in its center, surrounded by four stools. I’d never been one to feel claustrophobic, and yet I allowed myself a secret shiver.

  In the room, a brutish big man in white robes and armor stood just to my left. I gave him so long a look I almost failed to notice the teenage boy already seated on one of the stools.

  The boy—the one who asked the question about my hair, I realized.

  “Sit.” Strope beckoned me to take the nearest stool. I obliged, and the little stone seat wobbled beneath me. I understood right away the room was a place rarely visited. Nothing in the ten-meter square chamber had been added for comfort.

  Strope plunked atop the stool to my right.

  The giant soldier, dark-eyed and silent, remained standing.

  “If you’d asked me to guess who awaited us here, I wouldn’t have said you,” I said to the teenage boy. He was thin, especially for a soldier. His black hair was cropped close to his scalp, and his eyes looked sallow in the room’s fragile light.

  “His name’s Rami,” said Strope. I sensed Strope’s pride, and realized the boy wasn’t what he seemed. “Rami’s somewhat of a hero. He grew up in Aristes, the science city near the equator. And he…well—you explain it, Rami.”

  The smiling boy looked more confident than most his age. He folded his hands on the table and looked me square in my eyes.

  “I invented quantum re-directioning.” He beamed.

  Quantum re-directioning.

  He means ships changing directions while traveling at quantum speeds.

  “Interesting.” I nodded.

  “With all the worry about the Vark triangulating our location based on the approach of our attacks, we needed to change our strategy,” Rami explained. “But the problem with quantum-speed approach vectors is—”

  “Stop,” I said with authority. Everyone in the room fell silent. “Rami, I appreciate your desire to educate me. But though you think I’m just a walking computer, it’s not science that interests me. Strope brought me here to explain the nature of our mission. And that’s what I’m waiting for. Not the how – just the where and the why.”

  Rami looked to his commander and then to the hulking soldier. Both men nodded their approval.

  “Ok.” The young man looked wounded. “I…ummm…I guess it’s simple—”

  “We’re destroying two Varkolak planets,” said Strope, “including a mechanized moon. And we’re stealing some of their satellites. But the real purpose is more challenging. We’re capturing a live Varkolak specimen.”

  A live Varkolak specimen…

  My eyes betrayed my momentary disbelief.

  “Still not interested in the how?” Rami smirked. His face looked just like Strope’s.

  And then it occurred to me.

  These two are brothers.

  I stiffened atop my seat. Rami was right – I did care about the how.

  With a sigh, I asked.

  And he explained.

  “Since you don’t like science, I’ll keep it simple,” he said with renewed confidence. “I’ve invented a portable hypo-sleep field generator. Only it’s not for people. It’s for organic-mechanoid hybrids. In other words, it’s for Vark.”

  “It’s like a gun?” I asked. I felt five-minutes old again.

  “A big gun, but yeah. A gun. And guess who’s gonna carry it?”

  I looked at the hulking man whose shadow filled the room.

  And Rami never stopped smiling.

  * * *

  Three days after meeting Strope and his little brother, I awoke to the sound of my bedroom door sliding open.

  I sat up on my simple bed, shielding my eyes against the intruding light. Four men in white armor and robes swept into my barren room. Their pale rifles and masked faces told me all I needed to know.

  Not Strope’s soldiers.

  Maliah’s.

  I had nothing with which to fight them – I hadn’t seen my Gamma Suit since my arrival on Hermes. Swallowing my fear, I stood and faced them. Two men remained at the door. The other two, one so huge he looked ready to burst the seams of his armor, stalked to my bed.

  “You can’t kill me.” I stood calmly. “I’ll just come back.”

  “Be silent,” the big one grunted.

  They seized my arms and hauled me to the door. I wore only a waifish white gown, its pale threads trailing in the frigid air. Stripped so suddenly from my bed, I felt the cold biting me.

  I didn’t let them see it.

  But I was angry.

  I should’ve known.

  These people aren’t just at war with the Strigoi.

  They’re at war with themselves.

  The four men hurried me out of the room and into the corridors beyond. The harsh lights stung my retinas, and the frozen stone floors peeled the skin from my naked feet. I supposed I could’ve ejected myself from my cortical plug.

  But if they’ve destroyed my Ring…

  …if they’ve hacked their way onto the Sabre and killed my other bodies…

  …this is the only one I have left.

  I let them lead me through tunnels wide and narrow, down stairwells covered in frost and past wide-eyed onlookers. More than once, we marched through groups of other soldiers. The stiff, white-armored men and women stared at me.

  I swore they smiled behind their masks.

  And then at last we reached the grand moun
tain hangar. It was the same massive chamber in which I’d landed the Sabre and come face to face with Mina and the rest of Maliah’s personal guard.

  There she is.

  The Sabre, black as night against the pallid mountain stone, sat precisely where I’d parked her. Maliah’s forces hadn’t been able to board it. If they had, they’d have moved it, maybe even stolen it away into orbit.

  No.

  She’s safe.

  Only I know how to open her.

  I considered my situation. Four soldiers had me, while dozens of others moved within the mountain hangar.

  I could’ve left my body and flown in nano form to the Sabre.

  But I didn’t.

  They might have weapons capable of killing me even in light form.

  This might not be what I think it is.

  They took me toward the Sabre. I walked between them, crowded by their shoulders, consumed by their fluttering white robes.

  I gave them no satisfaction.

  I let the cold seize me, the pain dance through my body.

  And I kept my chin high.

  Beneath the Sabre’s deep shadow, our march ended. The mountain’s bay door allowed the wind to wash over me, tearing at my fragile gown. I stood, my hair streaming, waiting for my body to be destroyed.

  “Tell it to open,” the biggest of the four soldiers rumbled.

  “No.” I closed my eyes.

  “There’s no time, Callista. Tell it to open.”

  Wait…

  The way he said my name…

  I looked up at his masked face. His white polymer shield glared down at me, void of expression.

  “You called me Callista.”

  “There’s no time to explain,” he grunted. “Maliah’s guards are watching. If they sniff us out, you’re dead.”

  I stared hard at him. His shoulders were impossibly wide, his huge head squeezed into his too-tight mask.

  I knew him.

  The big man.

  From the stone room in Strope’s barracks.

  He’s helping me.

  “Open it,” he said again.

  I could’ve uttered the Sabre’s password. Instead, I released a tiny bundle of blue nano-light from inside my skull. The microscopic stream leapt out of my body and soared up into a tiny port in the Sabre’s underbelly.

  “Are you—?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Just watch.”

  Seconds later, the Sabre’s lower hatch snapped open. An extendable ladder dropped down to the hangar floor.

  “Are we running?” I asked.

  “Go,” he said.

  In a flash, I ran to the ladder and scaled it toward the airlock. Only one of the four soldiers followed me. The other three stood their ground.

  Big man’s staying behind?

  I heard the clamor and understood.

  Footsteps thundered toward the three soldiers.

  Maliah’s guards closed in.

  Beneath me on the ladder, my lone follower urged me to climb faster. I clambered into the Sabre’s hold just ahead of him, leaping up the last few rungs.

  “Take my hand,” I shouted.

  He did. I astonished him with my strength, pulling him into the Sabre with ease.

  “Airlock, seal,” I commanded the ship.

  The last sounds I heard from the mountain hanger were of men fighting.

  And then silence.

  In the deep shadows within the Sabre, I stood and caught my breath. The soldier rose opposite me, dusting off his robes as he stared at me behind his mask.

  “Who are you?” I said. “Take your mask off.”

  “Are you always this tyrannical?” He peeled the white-polymer face-shield away, and I found him smiling.

  “You?” I said.

  “Me,” said Strope. “There’s no time for romance. You need to pilot this thing outside of the planet’s cube-shield. Whatever you do, don’t fire your quantum engines. The cubes will kill your power, and we’ll float into space.”

  So that’s what the cubes do.

  They drain anything using quantum energy.

  The perfect way to stop incoming Strigoi weapons.

  “I have questions,” I said as I leapt into the cockpit chair. The hard seat crackled beneath me. In the last nine centuries, I’d never felt anything so comfortable.

  “Ask later.” Strope occupied the second cockpit chair. “Fly now.”

  I moved my fingers like lightning across the console. With a low thrum, the ship awakened. I felt my chair rattle, and for a half-breath I wondered if Maliah had laid a trap.

  Too late to worry now.

  “It’s a good thing we’re in the Sabre,” I said as I worked the console. “Most ships take several minutes to go through their launch sequence.”

  “Right.” He looked at me. “Good thing. The gravity controls work, right?”

  “If they don’t, we’ll be turned to jelly.” I shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry. It won’t even hurt.”

  I heard clangs against the outer hull. I knew what was happening. Maliah’s soldiers had overpowered my rescuers. They weren’t firing on me – not yet.

  They’re out there shouting.

  Banging on the hull.

  I’m glad I can’t hear them.

  I swallowed a quick breath.

  I mashed a blue button on the console.

  “Thank you,” I said to Strope.

  And we left Hermes behind.

  Two Worlds

  “Why do it?” I said. “Why save me?”

  Twenty-thousand kilometers beyond Hermes, Strope and I floated in the deep Andromeda dark. We’d docked with my Ring an hour ago. After commanding the spinning ship to take us far from Hermes, we found ourselves in the Sabre’s cockpit chairs.

  Still sitting.

  Still talking.

  “The Calipha’s well-intentioned.” Strope rubbed his forehead. “But killing you…it wouldn’t have made sense. We need every advantage. Besides, you’re too pretty to murder.”

  I grimaced. No one had called me pretty in hundreds of years.

  Though plenty have tried to murder me.

  “Did she kill your men? The big one? What about Rami?”

  Strope laughed a little.

  “Big one’s name is Akimo. And no, she won’t kill him. She wouldn’t dare. But he’ll sit this battle out. He knew it when he agreed to help you.”

  He risked himself for me, I realized. He gave up his place in the war.

  I wasn’t sure I liked the feeling of guilt. I hadn’t felt it since—

  Joff.

  “And Rami?”

  “Rami?” Strope’s smile grew. “He’s on his way to see us. The other ships – seven Rings and thirty attack craft – they’ll arrive shortly. The rendezvous point is…well…it’s here.”

  “Your little brother is no warrior,” I said.

  “Doesn’t need to be.” Strope shrugged. “He’ll stay on one of the other Rings. You remember the science he tried to explain? We need him to make it happen. He’ll program the flight path to the Vark planets. When the other ships arrive, he’ll send you the data to program into your Ring. If that’s ok with you, Lady Lightbringer.”

  He added a cordial smirk.

  I sank deeper into my chair.

  I need more sleep, I realized. The long hours I’d spent locked away in the Calipha’s mountain had been restless, and had worn away my calm. Despite being what I was, my body needed just as much rest as any human. Without it, I felt less alert, more apt to irritability.

  More emotional.

  More aggressive.

  “It’s time,” I said.

  “Time?” He looked at me.

  “I’m not going to ask any more questions. You’re going to start talking, and you’re going to tell me everything. Don’t pretend ignorance. Don’t lie. Now’s the time to explain. Tell me the plan for the war. The details of our attack. Our probability for success. And…not least of all…tell me what happened back there in the mountain.
Say it now, and spare no detail.”

  He cracked a grin.

  And in the shadowed Sabre cockpit, he told me everything I wanted to know:

  Our first target, a Strigoi planet known as Grave B-7 Black, lay several thousand light-years away. Hermes quantum probes had detected it more than nine decades ago. The planet was a suspected Strigoi hive world, housing billions of our enemy.

  “…a storehouse for Vark S.R.’s,” he sighed. “A machine world meant for killing stars. We think they’ve been there for a few thousand years. Every star within thirty light-years…they killed long ago. And it’s only getting worse.”

  We were to destroy Grave B-7 Black. The Hermes Rings and warships in our battle group carried enough S.R.’s to annihilate it a hundred times over.

  “…but it’s like you said.” Strope grinned. “You’ve got better weapons. We might not even need our S.R.’s. We’ll just use yours.”

  “Turn the whole planet into light,” I breathed. “One shot. Clean into the equator. All it’ll take.”

  For once, he looked impressed.

  Beyond B-7 Black, our next mission sounded far more dangerous. We were to approach Grave DD-9 Ebon, a giant rogue planet and its mechanized moon. The two were hidden in a starless void some two-hundred light-years wide, and together were thought to be the prime source of Strigoi in the Andromeda galaxy.

  I didn’t want to, but I felt myself shiver as Strope explained.

  “…closest Vark homeworld to the Coffin Engine,” he told me.

  “…a hundred thousand stars killed in the surrounding radius.”

  “…biggest Vark tomb we’ve ever seen.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but remembered I’d promised to ask no questions.

  It didn’t matter.

  Strope knew what I wanted.

  “It’s true.” His grin faded. “We want to capture a Vark alive. Not that they’re ever really alive, but you know what I mean. Big Akimo was trained to do the catching, but now he’s stuck on Hermes. He’ll be a grandpa long before we hit Grave DD. It’ll have to be someone else.”

  I stared, unblinking.

  “You want to know why we’re capturing a Vark, right?” he said. “Well that’s just the thing…”

  I leaned in closer. He looked reluctant to say anything more. But if my ‘prettiness’ was good for anything, it was pulling the truth out of young men.