Ouroboros 2: Before

by Odette C. Bell

  Slowly, she turned to him. Though she tried to control her expression, and to keep her gaze a firm and easy one, it didn’t work. She was sure she ended up looking like a cross between a nervous idiot and the kid out on their first date.

  ‘Okay,’ Carson said, his voice sounding strange, as if he were purposefully trying to lower it and to keep it gruff. ‘If the scanner is right, and several hundred years of Galactic Coalition Academy engineering tells me it is, your wounds should heal quickly. Those herbs have fantastic properties. Are you in any pain?’

  She shook her head. ‘It just tingles,’ she admitted. And while her back did tingle, that wasn’t what she was admitting to she suddenly realized. For the rest of her tingled too. In fact, she was awash with hot, itchy nerves as she tried not to stare at Carson but rather at her feet and hands.

  ‘We need to get back,’ he managed.

  ‘What about the blood on my back?’ Nida asked as she realized that although her injuries had been administered to, there would still be large swathes of crimson blood over her clothes. The inhabitants of this planet had green blood, and she could not draw attention to the fact she didn’t.

  ‘The herbs I rubbed on your skin are also dyes, and have already stained your clothes, obscuring the red. It will be fine,’ he assured her.

  She collapsed her arms around her middle, letting her fingers brush down the fabric of her top, then she finally conceded a nod. ‘Of course I trust you, Carson,’ she noted quietly.

  Carson didn’t appear to know what to say to that, so instead he said nothing at all as he gestured her forward.

  They promptly made their way back to Harya. She was seated on a log, her hands in her lap, her eyes closed, a serene, meditative look on her face. Yet as they approached, she winked one eye open and then the other, obviously centering her focus. And, once again, her gaze flew past Nida and locked onto Carson. ‘You’re back,’ she said as she jumped to her feet. Though she was injured, she clearly didn’t pay heed to it as she raced over to Carson’s side.

  ‘Yeah. Sorry it took so long,’ Carson began.

  ‘No matter. I am glad of your return,’ Harya admitted with a pressured, but content sigh. ‘Now, I will follow my word and take you to the resistance.’

  Though Carson initially looked embarrassed at Harya’s obvious enthusiasm, his eyes now flashed with determination. He gave a quick and stiff nod. ‘Right.’

  ‘Come on,’ Harya reached out to him, and before he had the time to blink, she locked an arm through his.

  ‘Ah,’ he stuttered.

  ‘It’s this way,’ she continued, either unaware or unconcerned by his hesitation.

  Nida had to step out of the way as Harya pulled Carson forward.

  She stood there, blinking slowly as she watched them walk further through the forest.

  . . . .

  Really?

  Though Carson Blake was an undisputed hero and the hottest bachelor of the Academy United Galactic Coalition, Harya was from a different place and a different time. Yet somehow, his charms still worked on her.

  It took Nida a long time to realize she was grinding her teeth, the movement heavy as it shook through her jaw. It took her even longer to realize she was falling behind.

  With a huff, she followed.

  As she did, though she was aware of her rising jealousy at Harya’s affection for Carson, she could not control it. It raged hotter and hotter with every step.

  And at least it surfaced as a distraction. For with every step—though Nida was not aware of it—she came closer and closer to a horrible and unforgettable chapter in her journey.

  Chapter 9

  Carson Blake

  He could not shake the alien woman off him. She simply hung from his arm as if she were a continuation of his sleeve. Though he had gently and even firmly tried to shake her off, she had always bounded right back to his side like a loyal puppy.

  Nida was several steps behind them, just out of view. Though he was diligent in turning to check on her regularly, Harya would always dip her head forward and try to reclaim his attention.

  Still, he saw enough of Nida to realize she wasn't . . . pleased.

  He didn't know why. He wanted to think she was just irritated at Harya's strange enthusiasm and rather grating high-pitched laugh.

  But a kick of nerves in his gut told him it could be something more.

  . . . .

  Could the worst recruit in 1000 years be jealous? Of him?

  It was a seriously distracting thought, one that served to command his attention as Harya led them through the dense forest and towards the city.

  Though she always walked close by his side, as they left the protection of the forest and began to traverse over a large, open plane, she stiffened and moved away.

  ‘Not long now,’ she promised under her breath.

  No. Not long now, he thought as he tipped his head back and stared forward.

  He could see a strip of light twinkling through the oncoming darkness.

  A city.

  If he strained his eyes, he could make out an enormous wall, the tips of tall buildings and spires just visible over the top.

  With every step closer to the city, his stomach churned.

  This was it.

  They were about to enter a hostile place just chock full of xenophobic aliens.

  He latched a hand onto his chin and winced. In the brief moment it took him to close his eyes, Nida suddenly strode quickly past him.

  She walked with a stiff purpose that set his teeth on edge and immediately made him question whether the entity had control of her again.

  He opened his mouth, her name on his lips, but he stopped himself just in time.

  He'd just been about to call her by her real, human name.

  Though Harya appeared ready to believe anything he said—as she was clearly infatuated with him—even she would start to get suspicious if Carson gave her enough reason.

  ‘We need to be careful,’ Harya suddenly hissed by his ear.

  Though Carson appreciated her warning, he couldn't keep the concern from his expression as he stared Nida's way.

  He hoped the entity wasn't suddenly taking control of her; it would be a seriously bad time for her to start glowing blue and squishing people against walls.

  ‘We must slow down; we must be careful,’ Harya repeated.

  ‘Humm?’ He muttered distractedly.

  Would he have to go after her? The device on his hand had been given to him to keep Nida and the entity safe, and he knew that, if it came to it, he would have to use it.

  ‘Please,’ Harya suddenly leaned in and touched his shoulder, ‘slow down and listen.’

  This broke his reverie, and he turned to the woman.

  Though she was alien, she did have a sweet face, and was very pretty by human standards.

  Which made him wonder whether she was pretty by Vexian standards.

  Shaking his head as he realized how inappropriate that thought was, considering what was happening, Carson controlled himself.

  ‘We need to make it into the tunnels,’ Harya said quickly. ‘Your friend . . . it is best not to be seen on the streets with her.’

  Carson was about to laugh. Then he realized he couldn't. Despite how dumb it was that Nida had accidentally dressed up as a harlot, it was also painfully serious.

  ‘Right,’ he stammered. ‘I’ll just get her.’

  ‘I . . . yes,’ Harya said slowly, clearly wanting to add something.

  ‘What is it?’ His brow crumpled in confusion.

  ‘Why are you travelling with . . .’ she began.

  ‘It's a disguise,’ he said quickly.

  Harya blinked, but didn't add anything, leaving Carson the time to trundle quickly after Nida.

  When he reached her side, he saw how strange her expression was.

  Undefinable, he wasn't sure whether she was frustrated, concerned, confused, or dazed.

  ‘Nida,’ he said gently, ‘Nida,’ he
repeated softly, knowing Harya was out of earshot and it was safe to use Nida's real name.

  It took painfully long, but eventually she stopped marching ahead, stilled, and turned to him.

  Pressing her lips together, she swallowed, her eyes wide.

  Finally, she shook her head, and Carson was relieved to note the color returned to her cheeks just as that by-now-familiar look of mild embarrassment.

  He let out a relieved sigh. ‘You are in there then. Christ, you gave me a fright. Now, we have to go back; Harya is going to take us through the tunnels. She doesn't think you should be seen on the street,’ he added with a laugh.

  The laugh fell flat, however, as once again Nida looked at him, obvious confusion making her gaze dart around quickly.

  ‘Nida?’ he asked again carefully.

  ‘I . . . we must hurry. You should also . . . not stand so close,’ Harya suddenly called as she half jogged up to them.

  Nida shook her head several times, appearing to center herself, then she nodded.

  ‘Very well, this way. Stay close,’ Harya began, but with a wary glance over her shoulder at Nida, she added, ‘but not too close.’

  As Harya turned to continue forward through the dry-grass plane, he was afforded the opportunity to stare Nida's way. ‘What is it?’ He mouthed.

  She ticked her head to the left, slowly shaking it. Her eyes were locked on that row of light in the distance. Even in the growing dusk, Carson could see that her pupils were large as she tried to take in the whole sight at once.

  There was something . . . eerie about the quality of her attention in that moment. No, that wasn't right, it wasn't eerie; it was stilling.

  It froze him to the spot.

  ‘Nida?’ he mouthed.

  It appeared to take a great deal of effort, but she turned to him and nodded once. ‘It will be fine,’ she mumbled.

  He hoped she was right, yet he couldn't deny the surge of adrenaline her muttered promise elicited. In a wave, jumping, electrifying fear jolted through his every muscle and bone.

  Shaking it off, he continued forward.

  After some time, they reached the city's outer perimeter. It was an enormous and truly imposing sight—a wall approximately 10 meters tall, laden with wire and rudimentary turret guns, surrounded the city completely. Lights were set evenly across it, and as they approached, Carson felt his skin creep with fright at the prospect of one of those lights locking on him and illuminating him against the dark backdrop of the night.

  Fortunately they did not venture too close to the walls however. Instead, Harya took them on a circuitous route. Either she wasn't entirely sure where she was going, or she was doubling back for some security reason. Perhaps she knew how the defensive mechanism of the city's perimeter worked, but eventually she led them to an enormous set of pipes.

  Before Carson could wonder whether Harya intended to lead them within, she passed by the pipes and walked on for almost 200 meters.

  He really, really hoped she knew what she was doing. With every step, he couldn't stop his concern from building, however, neither could he stave off the guilt. What if he'd just trusted this woman, and she turned out to be a) a waste of time, or b) a trap?

  Carson tried to shake off his suspicions, but he couldn't deny his growing fear.

  Just before he moved to pull Harya aside and question her, he watched as she doubled down next to an innocuous-looking section of road. Scrabbling in the dirt, after almost 30 seconds, she rose and walked away.

  ‘What is she doing?’ he muttered under his breath, his words sharp and broken as frustration constricted his throat.

  Yet before he could act, Nida did.

  Drawing alongside him, she placed a hand on his arm.

  The move was gentle, yet had a deceptive firmness that grew with every second her skin pressed down against his. ‘She knows what she's doing. Trust her,’ Nida said simply.

  No. Not Nida.

  The entity.

  It spoke quietly and quickly, its words low and barely audible.

  Though his skin bristled, he controlled his reaction.

  He also controlled his tongue. He did not suddenly hiss at Harya to get back here. Instead, he waited.

  He did not, however, have to wait for long.

  Out of the darkness, he heard footsteps.

  As they grew louder, the skin along his arms prickled and stood on end.

  Though it probably broke the laws of the region, and Harya’s heart, he stood as close to Nida as he could.

  For a few brief but reassuring seconds, she reached out and held onto his arm. Then, as a figure resolved through the darkness, she let her fingers fall from his wrist.

  She stepped back just as Harya let out a sigh of relief. ‘There you are—’ she began.

  ‘What are you doing?’ someone hissed.

  ‘I have the resistance members. They saved me from a varg,’ Harya squeaked, stumbling over her words as she tried to get them out all at once.

  ‘You can't be here,’ the person snapped.

  Though Carson couldn't really see them—as dusk had quickly given way to a thick and black night—he could see the outline of a hard, metal armor covering their body from head to foot.

  Although the person had a soft, light voice, he quickly reasoned he must be looking at a man, considering the chauvinistic laws of this planet.

  But man or woman, they were clearly armed. They were also clearly angry at Harya for leading them here.

  ‘We need to take them to the resistance,’ Harya began, passion rising in her voice and making her words even quicker.

  The man appeared to pause. Slowly he turned over his shoulder and stared pointedly at Nida, then Carson. His eyes lingered long and hard over Carson, and though Carson could not see the man's face, he could bet the guy was sizing him up and registering what kind of threat—if any—Carson could pose.

  ‘We're here to help,’ Carson suddenly interjected, realizing he had to say something before this guy did anything rash.

  The man didn't say anything. In fact, it took Harya latching a hand on his armored shoulder for the man to sigh heavily.

  ‘Harya, we . . .’ he sighed again.

  ‘Please. They saved me from a varg,’ Harya's voice wavered up and down. ‘I have seen first-hand what they are capable of. We must take them to the resistance.’

  ‘. . . Alright,’ the man said after a long pause. ‘But if you,’ he said, turning sharply on his heel and facing Carson.

  Carson put his hands up before the guy could finish his threat. ‘We're here to help,’ Carson repeated.

  His words seemed to echo around in the silence, and before too long they had their desired effect—the man stood backwards, nodded his head, then waved them forward.

  As Carson fell into step, he surveyed the man, and, more importantly, the armor.

  It was rudimentary, to say the least. Probably a few millennia behind anything the Academy could produce, it wouldn't stand up to much of a beating. One shot from Carson's gun would obliterate it completely, and if Carson chose to put his own armor on, he would win any fight before it began.

  Still, Carson was wary as he walked forward, and became all the warier as they reached the enormous pipes again.

  The pipes led into a section of the perimeter wall, and were protected by a thick wire fence with several glowing machines lodged into it.

  Without reference to his scanner, Carson could deduct the machines could electrify the wire—all he needed to conclude that was the crackle in the air as they neared.

  Though he dearly wanted to ask how they intended to get past the fence, he knew enough to hold his tongue.

  The man was in heavy armor, and Carson could bet from the cut and color, he probably belonged to some kind of official force, whether military or police.

  In other words, he was a double agent—a loyal government employee by light, and a mole for the resistance during the night.

  Sure enough, the man quickly and confi
dently walked up to the fence, and within several seconds there was a click as he disabled the electricity crackling through every wire.

  Though Carson's heart beat hard in his chest, he kept his composure as the man finally opened a gate and waved them all through.

  Then the guy continued to disable several other defenses—all of which Carson kept a dutiful eye on—until they were free to clamber up the side of the pipes.

  Once inside, Carson expected the guy to leave them and return to his post, but he didn't.

  Instead, he led them forward.

  The pipes were massive. They also stunk.

  Really, really bad.

  It was a horrendous mix of week-old fish and rotten eggs. He wanted to gag, but he barely managed to hold himself together. Nida, however, kept coughing into her upturned palm, her other hand locked flat on her stomach.

  As they travelled further through the pipes, Carson's nerves started to compound.

  Expectation built within, and with every step, he wondered what would come next.

  There was a thick, indescribable brown muck covering the bottom of the pipe. It muffled their footfall, but that was the only good thing about it. With every step, it sent out an entirely awful squelch.

  Carson didn't even want to guess what it was.

  He didn't let it distract him too much though; he kept watch over the man.

  He also kept a protective eye on Nida.

  He wanted to pull her aside to ask how she was going, but knew he couldn’t risk it. Instead, he would have to put up with the lump that formed in his throat every time he looked at her.

  After what felt like an age trekking through that wretched-smelling tunnel, they finally reached what looked like a service door set into the smooth side of the rounded metal wall.

  Wordlessly, the man walked over, drew a large key ring from his pocket, selected the correct key, then opened the door.

  He waved everyone through, though as Carson passed, the man pushed a hand flat into his chest and shoved him back. ‘Not you,’ the guy grumbled.

  Carson stumbled, though quickly caught his balance.

  He faced the man, his brow knotting together as he assessed the guy’s intent.

  It was pretty hard to guess a guy’s motivations when he was covered in chunky metal armor, but this wasn’t the first time Carson had faced off against a faceless attacker. Though he couldn’t garner the man’s intentions from his expression, he sure as hell could from the man’s body language. And though the guy was an alien, there were some things that crossed racial barriers.