Intrinsic: Book One of the Terran Cycle

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  She told him that it was her father who had raised her and even encouraged her to join the UDC. He wanted his daughter to grow up strong and be able to defend herself, to live, she had said.

  “I spoke with him not long before I met you at The Hub. He was going to visit one of the protected vineyards he used to walk with my mother.” She had actually cried that night, in front of him. At first he didn’t know what to do. This was a first even for him. He had spent most of his life avoiding emotional connections to people; his lack of experience was obvious. He awkwardly placed his hand around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. She had cried on and off for a while before they both fell asleep on the sofa.

  The next morning Kalian woke up on his own with dry saliva on one side of his mouth. He assumed at some point in the night she had woken up and left, she didn’t seem the cuddling type. He silently hoped she hadn’t seen the drool though.

  When they next saw each other Li’ara was accompanied by Ilyseal outside his door.

  “We have arrived.” Ilyseal said. He looked at Li’ara who gave no indication she had been crying most of the night. She was back to being the soldier, at least by training if not rank.

  Soon after, they found themselves on the command bridge with Telarrek and dozens of other Novaarians. They were all standing by their posts in silence, but this time it wasn’t because of Kalian and Li’ara. Along with Telarrek they gazed ahead to the front of the command bridge.

  “We are home...” The expansive view port gave a picture perfect image of the Conclave.

  Chapter Nine

  Shouting didn’t seem to be working for him. The piloting alien kept raising his hands in the air with frustration at their communication issues. Much to Roland’s surprise though it appeared his alien companion had some level of understanding, despite his own confusion. After reaching a certain distance to the cracked planet, the pilot had apparently lost control of the pod’s direction. By the time the view port was filled with the main tower, they had slipped into what could only be described as traffic.

  Roland didn’t understand it but he guessed something automated took control of all ships within the perimeter of the planet. Everywhere he looked, ships of all sizes were being directed out of their lane and off to some unseen landing area. He began to wonder how each ship knew where to go.

  “Have you done this?” He waved at the slow moving ships directly ahead. The alien couldn’t take his eyes off the gun Roland was poking him with. He replied in some strange gibberish that just annoyed Roland even more. The console pinged as a holographic image in red popped up. It showed the pod passing through a thin barrier that wrapped around the horizontal break in the planet. “What does that mean?” Before the gibberish began again he held up his hand to the alien’s face. What was the point? He wouldn’t understand it anyway.

  He didn’t like this. For all he knew, the pilot had entered coordinates for the nearest garrison of soldiers. He leaned forward to peer out of the view port and check the area out. He could see now that as well as the cylindrical towers there was a city hanging from the roof of the interior with spires protruding from the bottom. Both cities were wrapped around the bases of the main tower. He felt like a needle that had just fallen into a planet-sized hay stack. Ships were ever on the move between the cylinders and the main tower. The cities above and below were so far away that everything looked like ants moving over an ant hill.

  They were cast in shadow as a monolithic ship passed overhead. He knew a war ship when he saw one. It didn’t look like the one that attacked Alpha; this one was slightly smaller but covered in armaments. It was clearly made up of five sections down the length of the vessel, ending in sloping quadruple engines, one pair stacked on top of the other. The front of the vessel looked more like a battering ram as it sloped down at a forty five degree angle. Each of the five sections was a different shape but they were all perfectly in line. As it angled away he could see that there was an even larger set of quadruple engines above the others. A sleek looking bridge pod protruded from the rear of the ship at the same forty five degree angle as the battering ram. Overall the ship was a deep shine of red with a black hull in-between the different sections.

  One look at the bulky cannons lining the sides was all Roland needed. He was glad however that it was heading away from the planet and out into space. He’d had enough; it was time to take back control. He peered out again looking at the lower half of the main tower. For some reason his instincts always told him to go down when he was in a pinch. He saw several lines of the same kind of traffic entering the tower at different ports. What caught his eye were the smaller ports with individual ships landing on extended platforms.

  “Down there, take us down there!” He pointed the gun at the alien then in the direction he wanted to go. The alien pointed at the console and then the tower while chattering away. Looking him up and down, Roland reasoned the alien knew his way round electronics; after all he was in the room with the escape pods. He’d let him get comfortable on the flight over, he needed to show dominance over his hostage.

  “It seems to me you have a pretty good grasp of what I’m saying.” He kept his voice level this time. The pilot seemed to be more terrified by that than the shouting. “You’re going take control of this little can and you’re going to take us down there onto one of the empty platforms.” Roland dropped the barrel of the rifle letting it rest on the chair between the pilot’s legs. If his biology was similar to humans’, he would take its positioning seriously.

  A dark pointed tongue licked the alien’s lips as he thought over his options. He raised his hands as if surrendering, before turning back to the console. Roland kept the rifle trained on his mid-section. A red holographic image emitted from the console with what looked to be a hand sized dial. The alien gripped the dial and turned it clockwise towards an arrangement of symbols he didn’t understand. The console pinged again and different lights switched on around the pod. Two domes of holographic light appeared in front of the alien to which he responded by placing his hands over each. Showing a clear understanding of Roland’s request, he rotated the domes of light until the pod veered away from the line of other ships. It dropped vertically, though neither of them felt the change in inertia.

  Roland could see now why such lines were more practical. The pilot was constantly dodging other ships with the view port giving a heads up display of incoming traffic. He saw a particularly empty looking platform near the bottom with a few cube-shaped containers to one side. It didn’t look as well maintained as the platforms further up and he felt it a fair assumption that it would be easier to hide there. He pointed it out so the alien could manoeuvre the pod around the containers.

  With a little less finesse than his flying, the pilot dropped the pod onto the landing bay to the sound of scraping metal. Now safely on the platform the pilot had served his purpose as far as Roland was concerned. Before his hands had even left the holographic domes Roland brought the butt of the rifle down on the ridge of his eye. He didn’t want to kill, there was nothing to be gained in that, but he didn’t want him waking up for a while either.

  Looking at the view outside he was well aware they were in vacuum. He moved from his seat to rummage through the pod’s supplies in search of a vac suit and breather gear. It made sense that an escape pod would have such measures. Most of the things he found were totally alien to him. He thought some of it might be medical supplies but how they were applied was a mystery. He was thankful however for the sachets of water in one of the lower drawers. He drained the first one and stored the other in his belt.

  When he opened the last cabinet, he was disheartened to find a pair of boots instead of a vac suit. With a closer inspection he recognised the boots as the ones worn by the invading troops on the Hammer. Defying gravity wouldn’t be a bad advantage to have. He removed the boots to check the size before noticing the ninja-style toe cap. There was no way he could split his toes through that divide. It was only after
taking a closer look at the sole of the boot he realised it didn’t matter. The base of the boots was lined in a silver casing etched in ridges. Underneath were two circular ports that sat under the ball of the foot and the heel. He prised the casing from the boots and applied it to his own. He had no idea how to use them; he hoped it was an automatic process. He didn’t recall seeing the invaders use any other devices. It was possible they reacted to a change in pressure or simply a lack of contact to the floor. As good as they were, they wouldn’t get him out of this pod.

  Moving back towards the view port again he looked out in hope. There had to be a way to reach the door on the far side of the platform-

  The escape hatch at the back gave three loud bangs. There was someone on the outside. They must have slipped past while he was fitting his new footwear, which now clinked every time he walked like an ancient cowboy.

  Shit!

  If they managed to open that hatch he would be exposed to vacuum. There was nothing for it, he would have to try and take off again. He examined the console and free-floating holograms in vain. Nothing made any sense, so he opted for pressing everything instead. Different images popped up in response to his frantic gestures at moving the holograms and pressing the touch console. The domes disappeared, which couldn’t be good since he had seen they were integral to flying.

  It was too late.

  The lock on the door was disabled with a suction noise as the pressure was changed. He was about to die. The red light above the hatch blinked out which he assumed was a signal that the door could now be opened. He levelled his rifle at the door; if some alien was going to get him killed he would end them too. The circular panel parted into its hidden compartment exposing him to the harsh elements. He held his breath even though he knew it wouldn’t extend his life any, it was just instinct. He knew that even if he didn’t suffocate, the icy temperature of space would do the job.

  Slumped in the co-pilot chair he waited for death with his finger on the trigger pad. Nothing happened. Instead he was faced with another alien that didn’t look happy to see him. Who knew what this alien was though, it wore a black-domed helmet that sloped down over the face. It had six glowing orange lenses on the front, each a pair with one below the other. It was waving its two arms about while yelling at Roland in yet another type of gibberish. He could see it was wearing a long brown coat that looked to be some kind of animal hide.

  Forgetting about the angry alien he sucked in a breath, testing the air. He felt his lungs fill up before expelling the carbon dioxide. Now he was really confused. From this angle he couldn’t see the starry background of space but he knew they hadn’t gone inside or passed through an atmosphere. Yet here he was sitting, breathing and not even a little bit cold. The alien’s yelling brought him back to the situation as it stood. In his relief at not dying an icy death he had missed the alien levelling a pistol at him.

  You’re getting slow.

  He had no idea what the alien was angry about but he clearly didn’t like them on his platform. He was no expert in alien culture or fashion, but if he had to guess he would say this particular individual was what some might call a scoundrel. He wasn’t wearing a uniform but he possessed a weapon, and he wasn’t afraid to level it at someone. The clothes he wore under the great hide coat looked dirty and torn. In his own assessment he was confident that he was being confronted by his first alien criminal.

  He depressed the trigger pad, sending a blue flash into the criminal’s chest. He must have been wearing some kind of armour over his chest as the shot didn’t carry through and out the other side. He climbed out of the hatch keeping the fallen criminal in his peripheral vision while taking in his surroundings. The platform was big enough to fit at least six or seven more pods this size. The cube containers were stacked to one side, their contents empty. It wasn’t a stretch to assume this platform was probably being used for smuggling of some kind.

  So aliens have crime too...

  He was building as many facts about this new world as possible. If there was crime there would most likely be some form of local security. He opined that the aliens that attacked Alpha were probably something similar to the UDC. Either way he didn’t want to hang around. No doubt the ship he had escaped from would be searching for him as well as attracting attention from his latest crime.

  He looked down at the dead criminal. He had four fingers as well though they were slightly larger in the palm with thick fingers. It didn’t matter anyway; he knew what they looked like now. His training kicked in without him thinking about it. He crouched down and removed the long coat that felt like smooth leather and put it on. He needed to blend in and hide his features from the indigenes. The coat fitted well and dropped to his ankles, giving him plenty of room to conceal weapons. Thinking of this he picked up the pistol dropped by the criminal. It was bulky with a rectangular body and a long cylindrical sight that ran down at an angle to the gun. The trigger pad was the same with a handle slightly longer than his grip. It would be easier to move with a weapon this size rather than the rifle. He relieved the alien of his holster that clipped onto his own belt and strapped it round his thigh.

  The only thing left was his face. That problem was simply resolved by taking the domed helmet off. He noticed the style was different before removing it; instead of angling back to allow for their alien skull it was round like a human’s. The helmet slipped off with a tug before Roland jumped back at the sight. This was an alien, but not one of those aliens. There was no doubt that this was a different species. Its skin was dark brown and felt tough as he rotated the head around taking in the features. The head was similarly bald but not free of hair. The two large black eyes had tufts of lighter brown hair surrounding the sides. The eyes were bigger than a human’s and the other aliens’. There were no pupils or any details for that matter, just black like one giant pupil.

  He noticed another small black device, circular in shape, just behind a patch of skin decidedly thinner than the rest. He assumed it to be the ears but couldn’t fathom how they worked, though he was curious about the circular device both species wore. The mouth was in the same place but there were no lips to speak of. He resisted the urge to look inside and see what kind of teeth they had. The other aliens had white pointed teeth that stood out when they spoke against their blue exterior. Curiously there was no nose, just skin.

  He stood up with the helmet in hand. Where was he? Now there were two aliens, and apparently living together. Either way he was yet to meet one that didn’t want to kill him. A shadow passed quickly over head grabbing his attention. The view was dizzying. He was near the base of the main tower and surrounded by colossal spires and other towers that were easily bigger than any one structure built by man. He saw ships and smaller vehicles flying in-between the giant landscape that seemed to go on until he looked across at the horizon. Space was clearly visible between the planet’s two halves, making his ability to breathe even more of a mystery. That combined with the fact that he could hear the ships passing by and the buzz of activity coming from the streets below. He reasoned that there must be some kind of artificial atmosphere; everything was so annoyingly alien to him.

  Turning away from the metropolis to head for the rectangular door on the platform, he felt like a sitting duck out here. The tower he was on was so expansive that he couldn’t even see the curve. He didn’t know where he would go but it had to be better than out here. Before entering, he fitted the helmet over his own head to conceal his own alien features. The world shifted into shades of orange as he was now looking through the optical domes on the face plate. He wasn’t sure what the extra four domes did as he only needed the two much like the helmet’s former occupant. The visor automatically began to outline different things around him with information he couldn’t understand. He entered a small cargo bay filled with identical containers to the ones on the platform. Information appeared above them with an outline around various crates.

  He was more interested in the door to his
left. The door was large enough to obviously fit the crates and other storage items through. He couldn’t see any security features or locks, there weren’t even anymore guards. He wasted no time passing through it. He needed to get as far away from this area as possible.

  He wasn’t prepared for what he found on the other side. He was immediately immersed into a crowd of aliens, all walking in different directions. It was a good thing they couldn’t see his face as he stared in astonishment at the variety of life forms in front of him. He recognised the other two he had already encountered, but that was only a fraction of what he was seeing now. He clumsily backed up until he found a wall behind him. He felt better with a wall at his back. Suddenly conscious of himself he stuck his hands into the coat pockets concealing his unique looking hands.

  He stood there for a few minutes trying to acclimatise to the view. He was out of his element in a big way. He had been sent into every kind of environment and situation over his four decades of service, but nothing could prepare a person for this. Most were similar in shape and size to him but others were more animal-like. Something he couldn’t identify walked past him on four legs that looked like stone with a large flat head.