Descent of the Maw

by Erin MacMichael

  As usual, the sound constructs created by each team were razor sharp and strong. His people were good, masters of their craft, dedicated to perfecting their ancient art in spite of the onerous conditions which shaped their existence.

  Good work. Let’s finish off for the day, he instructed over the internal link connecting everyone in the room.

  The sound shifted to a sequence which would bring Rinzen’s energetic bond with the planet’s core to a ginger close. As the toning tapered to a single note, the light within the walls softened to a muted glow. The entire ship would stay lit for several days before the charge gradually dissipated back into the ground. In space, it would last for weeks.

  Kirian remained seated with his eyes closed while the adepts got up from their long practice session and stretched their limbs. “Team leaders, would you please remain?” he called out as people slowly began to disappear from the chamber. He waited silently until he heard the footsteps of several people approach and seat themselves in the vacated section in front of him. When he opened his eyes, the worry he had worked so hard to suppress during practice came spilling out.

  “I can’t reach Senga,” he said raggedly. After the last attack, the elder Makhás had taken on the treacherous task of infiltrating the southern Shitza capital of Edu to see if he could find any clues as to why the bombings had started up again after such a long surcease.

  “That’s not good. When did you last hear from him?” Arman queried, his deep voice filled with concern for his mentor and team partner.

  “Night before last. I tried finding him this morning before we started toning and got no answer to my call.”

  “I just tried to open a link myself and got nothing either,” Kalden stated, glancing aside at Tenzin before lifting troubled eyes to Kirian. “He’s either unconscious … or dead.”

  No one spoke into the uneasy silence. The colony hadn’t lost anyone directly to the Shitza since they were driven underground decades ago.

  Kirian rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled a taut breath. “I should never have agreed for him to go down there.”

  “It’s not your fault, Kirian. Don’t take that on,” Kalden replied firmly.

  “He said he was well hidden, Dad,” Anil contended. “Wasn’t he staying at some rundown place near the docks?”

  “Yeah, but you know Senga. He’s so damned determined when he sets his mind to do something. He’s probably taken all kinds of risks that none of the rest of us would, just to find out something that might help us. Kirian, did he give you any clues about what he was doing when he reported in?”

  The young leader frowned and nodded his head. “He said he’d been planting sigils at night inside government offices so he could tap into conversations during the day.”

  “That alone could get him shot,” Kalden scowled. “Did he pick up anything noteworthy?”

  “It sounds as if Chao Rong is struggling to hold onto his power.”

  Selina snarled in the chair beside Kirian. “Vicious bastard—thanks to him, our whole culture’s been decimated, not to mention hundreds of thousands of Ustagi people murdered when he razed the northern cities.”

  “He’s well hated by the entire Shitza population, little one,” Tenzin asserted. “Chao Rong is just the latest in a long line of tyrants. The Shitza elite were providing the Drahks people and technology long before I was born. The slave trade through Edu has been going on for centuries.”

  “Then why didn’t they try to wipe us out before they did?” Selina wondered. “The Makhás were always pacifists and wouldn’t have fought back.”

  The elder raised her brows in conjecture. “I believe the yeshes were quietly sending large sums of money to the central regime to keep them at bay. Our off-world trade was very lucrative.”

  Kalden chimed in beside his mother. “I remember Yeshe Choden telling us she thought Chao Rong had been pressured by Overlord Eo to take over our ships. The Drahks have always demanded new technology.”

  “That’s just crazy,” Nandi threw in. “They wouldn’t be able to fly the Khalamas if they had them. Do they know anything about using sound or sex or geometry? If they found one of the ships intact, it would just look like a huge rock. They couldn’t even teleport inside.”

  “All true, my dear,” Tenzin replied. “But the power of love can be used quite effectively in controlling other people. They want us, too, remember. The reptiles and their Shitza lackeys wouldn’t care if they could run the technology or not, as long as they could make us do it for them.”

  “Do you think they even know that the ships are sentient?” Anil inquired.

  “Probably not,” Kalden supplied. “They most likely dismiss the common lore about them as fairy tales. I’m sure it’s never occurred to them that even if they captured us, the ship herself could simply shut down and refuse to fly.”

  “In which case, they’d just destroy her,” Kirian added dismally. “Sorry, Rinzen.”

  No need to apologize Yeshe Vall. I’m well aware of what my future would be like with the reptilians or lions.

  “Kiri, we need to leave Lyonnae,” Selina remarked despondently, turning miserable gray eyes to his.

  “I know,” he answered, reaching over to squeeze her arm reassuringly. “We still have to figure out how to repair the portal.”

  “The Shitza had a Drahkian warship with them in the first attack,” Kalden spat with remembered anger. “Something on that ship mangled the energetic threads and rewove them into patterns we couldn’t change.”

  “Only Torma and her crew got out that day,” Tenzin said softly. “We weren’t fast enough. After the portal was damaged and locked down, we couldn’t even reach anyone to call for help.”

  “Even if we made it out, where could we go?” Anil threw out. “Sirius is a loss. Most worlds are either owned by the Drahks or their governments are allied with them, like the Shitza. We were one of the last pockets of free trade in the entire system. What about any of your old trade partners, Dad?”

  “I don’t know, son. We still can’t make contact with anyone outside of Lyonnae,” Kalden replied. “We’ve tried for years.”

  “That just doesn’t make any sense,” Kirian interjected with a frustrated exhale. “Psychic connection has nothing to do with portal energetics, at least that I’m aware of. We should still be able to speak with people off-planet.”

  “None of us get it, Kirian, but the sad fact is, the people we used to deal with haven’t heard from us for over thirty of our years,” Kalden remarked sourly. “I’m sure they all think we were wiped out ages ago. And who knows how many of them are still free of Drahkian rule.”

  “We’ll just have to keep looking for answers. Kalden, you and I will keep up our attempts to get through to one of your old contacts and we’ll all keep practicing the stargate configurations we know. One of these days it’s going to pay off.”

  “Yes, it will, son of Sundar,” the elder replied with a proud nod at the younger man. “I knew we chose you for good reason.”

  Kirian!

  Senga’s deep rasping voice tore through Kirian’s mind like a blazing torch. At once alarmed and relieved, he jumped to his feet and closed his eyes to focus on the contact. “It’s Senga!” he cried out. “Everyone in on the link!”

  Senga, where are you? Are you alright?

  I … I need some help. My chest—

  I’m coming to get you! Arman shouted across the link. Is there room? It’s dark wherever you are—I can’t see anything.

  Yeah, I’m in a tunnel underneath the Portal Center. I need to get out of here, but I can’t think straight.

  Kirian opened his eyes and found the big bellmaker watching him tensely, waiting for his nod. “Go! Bring him here—we’ll get Asti.” In the next instant, Arman disappeared from the room.

  “I’ll get her,” Selina volunteered, closing her eyes to put the call through to the scholar who also served as the colony’s healer.

  Arman, did you find him? Kirian
pressed anxiously, keeping a firm hold on the link with his friend.

  Yes, he’s bleeding badly. We’re coming through!

  “Let’s make some room, quick!” Kirian exclaimed as the others stood and hurried to push cushions and chairs out of the way seconds before Arman’s large form reappeared with the husky elder in his arms. The bellmaker bent down on one knee and gingerly lowered Senga to the floor in front of him while Nandi rushed to place a cushion beneath the elder’s tawny head.

  Kirian knelt down and grabbed Senga’s hand. “Asti’s coming,” he choked out around a tightening throat as Kalden, Anil and Tenzin huddled in close.

  The elder cracked his eyes open and grinned up at the somber young yeshe. “No need for the dour look, Kirian. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “Tough old bastard,” Kirian muttered, squeezing the man’s hand as Asti popped into view in the empty space between the sections of chairs, her arms laden with blankets, bandages, and a basket of herbs and wet cloths.

  “What’s this man done now?” the healer grumbled with feigned impatience, dropping her supplies to the floor and kneeling next to Kirian. “Let me see,” she murmured, reaching out to lift Senga’s arm away from his bloody chest. “Oh, it’s only a disruptor blast, Master Shengeti. You’re lucky you didn’t go up in a puff of smoke.”

  Senga laughed softly, his eyes glistening with the pain he was working hard to hold in. “Am I in trouble?”

  “You bet your hide, mister,” Asti scolded gently as she handed Arman a wad of cloth, giving him quiet instructions as she went to work cleaning up Senga’s damaged flesh.

  Kirian held on tightly, giving Senga something to grip while Asti washed out the deep burns in the elder’s furred chest. He knew it was irrational to feel guilt over the man’s scrape with violence, but the twisting in his gut was there nonetheless.

  When the healer finished dressing and bandaging the wound, she raised a hand and glanced around the group, asking for their help in sounding out a healing matrix, but before she could begin, Senga opened his eyes and looked at her sharply. “Don’t put me to sleep,” he grated insistently.

  “Alright, we’ll just do something for the pain and to step up your body’s healing. You’ll probably sleep most of the next few days anyway.”

  Senga nodded gratefully and his hand relaxed in Kirian’s grip. Asti began the toning with a soft note while the others joined their voices around hers, following her mental directions for shaping the sound, ending some moments later when she raised her hand to close off the formation.

  The elder took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thanks. It’s better already.”

  Kirian lowered Senga’s hand onto his bandaged chest and released it, patting it firmly. “Now, do you want to tell us what you were doing in the Portal Center?”

  The elder Makhás looked up at him through narrowed lids. “I wanted to see if I could figure out how they control the primary portal.”

  Arman’s brows furrowed with confusion. “But they’ve always used silicon-based technology and electronic gadgets.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Senga replied, turning his eyes to his team partner. “But whatever they’ve got installed now is definitely not silicon electronics. I could feel something strange when I was underneath the building sending a scan into the interior. It was like a—a dark ball of potent, jagged energy.”

  “Was it sentient?” Kirian probed.

  Senga rolled his head back and forth on the cushion. “It wasn’t a mind or personality, so I assume it’s a physical construct of some kind. I couldn’t get a lock on the chamber where I sensed the device was housed, so I searched for a dark, empty room as close to the thing as I could get where I could hold a stable matrix and transported in. It’s been a piece of cake to get in and out of the capitol offices and plant sigils without being seen. In and out in seconds. But not this.”

  When the elder’s face clouded with unspoken thoughts, Kalden prodded his friend to continue. “Senga, what happened to you in there?”

  Senga looked up at the other elder and then back at Kirian. “My mind kept fuzzing around the edges. Every time I tried to send a probe into the room with the device, it dissipated. My sigils wouldn’t hold together for more than a few seconds, even in the room where I was hiding. They just melted like water. I tried to contact you, Kirian, and couldn’t make the link open. Whatever that thing is, I’m sure that’s what keeping us from making off-world contact. It must affect the planetary grid in the upper atmosphere that’s tied into the portal.”

  Kirian let out a long, disgruntled breath. “It’s got to be some kind of Drahkian technology.”

  “The good news is that the device has the identical energetic feel as the disruption that locked down our portal during the invasion. They must have employed the same kind of device somewhere on the plateau after the portal was broken—”

  “—and it disappeared,” Kirian finished in a whisper. “No longer needed when they thought we were wiped out.”

  The elder nodded. “If we can repair the portal, we should be able to get out.”

  Kirian turned his head to look at his twin as a small flicker of hope kindled in his chest.

  “The bad news is Chao Rong now knows for sure that we exist,” Senga grimaced, his features twisting with scorn, “because of my own fucking incompetence!”

  Kirian looked back down at the distraught elder who had lowered his eyes and wouldn’t meet Kirian’s gaze. “Oh, no you don’t,” he countered, slipping his fingers around Senga’s wrist to grip it tightly. “It’s my job to be dour. Let’s get one thing straight—there’s nothing incompetent or weak about you, tiger of the Makhás. Just what is it you’re blaming yourself for?”

  Senga growled as he exhaled. “Those last bombings were nothing more than a shot in the dark. Stories have floated down from the mountains about ‘magical bell people’ which made Chao Rong wonder if any of us were still alive. He’s losing credibility with the Drahks, so he ordered the bombings to see if he could scare up anything valuable to hand over to them. And now that I’ve been seen—” He bit off his words, shaking his head in angry disgust.

  “Are you certain they even realized who you were?” Nandi asked above him. “You don’t have tiger markings.”

  “I’m sure they have a good idea. I was focused on trying to get a link open to Kirian when someone came into the room and flipped on the lights. My reflexes were sluggish and he fired several shots before I could pull together a matrix to transport back down underground where I must have passed out.”

  “It’s a wonder they didn’t find you,” Kirian declared. “I tried to call you several hours ago before we started practice.”

  “We thought you were dead,” Selina piped up, shaking Senga’s boot with sorrowful eyes.

  “No such luck, kitten,” the elder grumbled before looking up at Kirian again. “I’m sorry. I should have gotten out of there the moment I knew something was wrong.”

  “What’s done is done, Senga. There’s no blame here. You risked your life to take care of all of us. What you found out at the Portal Center is invaluable. We’ll just have to see what Chao Rong and his cronies decide to do about us. Just rest now and heal.”

  “Kirian,” Arman said softly with his arms crossed in front of him. “We still need eyes in Edu.”

  Kirian’s stomach twisted with a fresh wave of apprehension, knowing exactly where his friend’s thoughts were headed. “We can listen in through the sigils Senga already planted in the capitol building.”

  “That’s not enough,” the bellmaker retorted. “If Chao Rong’s about to topple, we need to know which way the wind is blowing. The Drahks are an unknown quantity and if they move in with more surprises we don’t know how to counter, we could all end up dead. Or worse.”

  Kirian stared into Arman’s golden eyes, loath to admit his friend was right and that their survival could hinge on staying ahead of the political struggles in the far-off Shitza ca
pital.

  “It has to be me, Kirian, and you know it,” Arman insisted in a low voice. “Besides Senga, I’m the only one with mixed blood who can pass for a Shitza. You used to tease me when we were kids for not having stripes. Now it’ll pay off,” he said with a wry smile.

  With a reluctant sigh, Kirian nodded. “Alright, but stay out of the Portal Center. I don’t want any more scares like today, you hear me? Have pity on my poor heart.”

  “I’ll take it easy and keep out of sight, I promise,” the bellmaker assured him with an easy smile.

  “Niyal’s going to kill me,” Kirian muttered. “He’s already overworked as it is.”

  Kalden raised a hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry about it—we’ll get him some help. Some of your students have an overabundance of energy that could be put to good use.”

  “There’s something else we need to think about,” Anil interjected. “If the Shitza take those stories about bell people seriously, they may start hunting for us up on the surface.”

  “By the Prime, that would be really dangerous for any of the mountain people we trade with,” his wife pronounced.

  “And Minla,” Kirian added with utter dread. “Kalden, has anyone picked up any troop movements away from the garrisons scattered around the plateau?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but it’s something we should start watching for.”

  “Double the scans through the wards. I don’t care what other chores get pushed aside. Pay close attention to anything military moving out into the mountain villages.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good call, Anil,” Kirian commended. “Anything else we need to focus on for the moment? If not, let’s get this man to his bed so he can sleep.” He placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Thank you for what you did for us. I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re back in one piece.”

  Senga nodded and blinked groggily as the recuperative demands of his body took over. Asti gathered her things quickly and looked over at Selina. “Would you mind helping me, just to get him settled in his chamber? I’ll stay with him after that.” Kirian rose and backed away while the two women wrapped the wounded elder in blankets and whisked him off of the ship.