The Complete New Dominion Trilogy

by Drury, Matthew J.

  Chen gritted her teeth, averting her gaze. “This is the work of savages. Humans who choose to live outside the civilised world, and travel the wilderness without law or conscience, hunting and killing for their own twisted leisure.”

  Cris took a series of deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He’d never seen a dead body before, let alone hundreds of them at once, piled together in a macabre display. It was a most disturbing experience. “How…long?” was all he could manage to say.

  “How long have they been dead?” Chen said, and shook her head, taking another look. “Hard to say. Probably a week, at least. You don’t have much experience with death, do you Cris?”

  He took a long breath and blew it out wearily, choosing not to look at her. “Should I have?”

  Chen opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind. She licked her lips. “A lot has changed since your time. The world is different now. It is commonly accepted that life outside of the major cities, even travelling between them, is fraught with danger. It is highly discouraged. My guess is that these people were ambushed whilst travelling – and met a very unfortunate end. God bless their souls.”

  Cris swallowed dryly. The possibility that whoever did this might come back dawned on him, and he grew restless. “We should keep moving,” he said.

  “Yes,” Chen nodded, and with that she pressed on ahead, moving past the grotesque pile of rotting flesh without another glance. Cris followed, staying closer to her side than he had before.

  They walked quietly at a steady pace through the valley for more than three hours, stopping occasionally to sip water from a canteen Chen had sequestered on her suit. The heat of the day was increasing dramatically with the rising sun; even in the shade of the Hebes Chasma the temperature was easily reaching a hundred degrees, and there was still some time to go before noon. Luckily, there had been no signs of imminent danger so far.

  Cris felt like shit, but he chose not to say as much to Chen. Since he awoke from cryofreeze all he’d done was complain and ask questions, and he figured this woman would start considering him a pest and leave him to fend for himself if he moaned any further about the pain in his feet, ankles and legs. The nausea that still rose in his gut. The unease, the anxiety. The migraine headache that thundered through his mind.

  What I’d give for an aspirin…

  He focused on his thoughts, attempting to block out the sensation of pain – tried to remember anything from his past life that might have come back to him in the past few hours. Still, all he could come up with were random things from his childhood: his family home in Connecticut. Cycling through New Haven Green with his friends and getting thrown out of the public library for spilling Coke over an expensive textbook. Attending church with his parents. Pissing in the Memorial Fountain.

  Why couldn’t he remember anything more? He didn’t even remember how old he was. In his thirties, for sure, but an exact number eluded him. Was he married? Did he have any children? A job? Money?

  After a while, Chen stopped and pointed a finger at something in the distance. “Look,” she said.

  Cris glanced at her, then looked to see what she had discovered. Mounted up on a large rock formation ahead appeared to be several dark human-like shapes lined up in a row, hanging from wooden posts. He eyed the strange sight suspiciously, blinking, unable to tell what he was looking at.

  “Scarecrows?” he asked.

  Chen nodded.

  Once again, Cris felt a wave of revulsion and fear pass over him. Scarecrows? In this desolate place? What could they mean?

  “Let’s see,” Chen said. She ran forward and started climbing the small rock formation, turning to help Cris up behind her. At the top, they found the ‘scarecrows’ were in fact human skeletons, their flesh long-since rotted away, nailed to the wooden posts in a crucifixion style, adorned with the skulls of animals, and clad in filthy rags which swayed timelessly in the desert breeze.

  “What the hell is this?” Cris whispered. “What’s going on here?”

  Chen smiled at him. “These were placed here as a warning. Oh, yes, I recognise it well. It means we are near to the lair of Paramo,” she said.

  4

  “Paramo?”

  “An old man,” Chen told him. “A hermit, if you will… who has lived in these remote parts for more than thirty years. Alone. Exiled from the Silver City for a most unspeakable crime.”

  “Oh?” Cris raised his eyebrows. He didn’t like this one bit. “And what’s that?”

  “Denial of the divinity of Damarus’ scriptures,” she told him, “or so the story goes. He was deemed a religious blasphemer, stripped of all his possessions, and forbidden from ever returning to our Holy city.”

  “That’s harsh,” Cris said. “Whatever happened to religious freedom, and the separation of Church and State?”

  “Secularity?” Chen shrugged, staring at the grim scarecrows, and seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment. Then she turned back to him and said, “After the Apo’calupsis, humanity was very nearly lost. It was only through our religious conviction, and the works of Damarus, that we survived those dark times. And the Wars – three in total – established the Church as the sovereign entity of our newly evolved social order – what you know as ‘State’. So to answer your question, religious freedom is really a thing of the past now. Anyway, our belief system has changed drastically since your time. And it really isn’t as barbaric as it may sound.”

  Cris took a deep breath. “I find that notion disturbing somehow. Separation of Church and State was considered a great achievement in my time. It was written in the Constitution of my country. The First Amendment.”

  Chen nodded. “Welcome to the twenty-fifth century,” was her blunt reply. She gestured to the scarecrows, and the winding path that lay beyond. “Paramo’s lair must be that way. I have wanted to meet the man for many years, but have never found him – until today.”

  “Lorelei, I – ”

  “Please,” she cut him off. “Call me Lora.”

  “Okay, Lora, I really don’t think this guy wants any visitors…”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “He knew my grandfather, or so I’ve been led to believe. Long before I was born, they were colleagues in the Silver City’s Holy Guard.”

  “Really?” Cris was genuinely surprised.

  “Yes,” she said. “Maybe he can help us. And if you want a change of clothes, and some footwear, this could be our best bet.”

  Cris didn’t know whether to continue trusting Lorelei Chen, or to flee – and take his chances on his own. He had a bad feeling about this ‘Paramo’ character; those scarecrows must’ve been put there for a good reason. His instincts had told him to steer clear there and then, to listen to the stark warning posed by the scarecrows, and he didn’t think Chen’s claims of her grandfather knowing the guy would mean shit when they got wherever this path was leading them. He was going to kill them both, after skinning them alive, and probably would eat the skin afterward. Anyone who spent thirty years alone in this desert was not going to be quite sane, for sure.

  Still, Cris had trusted Chen so far, and she’d kept him safe, alive and well. Without her, he would never find his way out of this desert hell-hole and back to civilisation. No doubt he would end up dead, either through dehydration, or as a meal for Cerberus Dogs or whatever other Godforsaken creatures might be roaming around here. He guessed he should continue to trust her for now – even if he was absolutely shitting himself to the core.

  The footpath twisted and turned for about a mile, before opening out into a small clearing about three hundred feet across where the walls of the valley divided. In the middle of the clearing was some kind of structure; at first glance it resembled a stone-built cottage with a thatched roof, but as they drew closer it became apparent that this structure was far larger than that.

  Cris was about to make a comment when a sudden blur of movement to his left distracted him. He turned, startled, then something hit h
im bluntly over the back of the head before he could react, knocking him to the ground. He landed on his knees, dazed, tasting blood.

  “Ar’tux!” Chen yelled from somewhere to his right.

  Squinting his eyes, Cris craned his neck upward, trying to figure out what was going on. He saw multiple human figures dashing across his field of vision. Some kind of attack…

  Before he knew it, he and Chen had been surrounded by several sinister-looking figures holding wooden staff weapons. There had to be nine or ten of them, large men dressed identically in brown-coloured bodysuits fashioned from a leather-like material. They wore transparent breathing filters across their faces, with tubes going into their nostrils, giving them a somewhat monstrous appearance. They had seemingly come out of nowhere, and now had the two weary travellers completely at their mercy.

  “What the hell?” Cris blurted. His gaze shifted quickly between each of the men, expecting to be struck dead at any moment. He was terrified, and deep in his thoughts he cursed Lorelei Chen for bringing him this way. Slowly, he got to his feet, trying not to make any sudden movements.

  “W'-exùn canan Peize,” Chen said to the men. “W'-exùn sak’An Paramo.”

  Cris didn’t know what Chen was saying, but she seemed to be getting through to them. One of the men stepped forward and removed his breathing filter. He was Caucasian, somewhere in his early seventies, maybe. His face was tanned and a large scar permeated his brow.

  “Ahma Eem Paramo,” the man said in a gruff voice. “Stuté ya nommon!”

  “Ahma Eem Lorelei Chen,” she told him. “Ya iniagnaran mah gronpatern.”

  “Chen?” the old man blinked.

  Cris licked his lips. From what he could tell Chen was introducing herself to this man – who he guessed to be Paramo, from the context of what he was saying and the inflection in his voice. Sure enough, Paramo seemed to recognise her somehow.

  “Ah wonse n’oi-a geas’ off dat nommon,” he said. For a moment he appeared to be lost in thought. Then he turned to Cris. “En oos-ya?”

  Cris glanced at Chen with a desperate expression, demanding a translation. This situation was stressful enough as it was, and not being able to understand a word being spoken made it even worse. She turned to him and said softly, “He’s asking for your name, Cris.”

  Cris swallowed dryly, and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was shaking profusely. “C… Cristian Stefánsson. That’s my name.”

  Paramo regarded him with suspicious eyes. He turned to Chen and said, “Why are you speaking in this archaic English dialect? Why do you not converse in the modern tongue?”

  Chen took a breath. Paramo’s ability to speak in the ‘old’ way had obviously taken her by surprise. “Paramo, we meant no disrespect,” she said. “Our use of the old dialect is solely due to the fact that Cris here… comes from a time when the language was spoken in such a way.”

  “What are you talking about?” Paramo roared. “Nobody has spoken this way in over three centuries! Do not take me for a fool – I was once a scholar, you know.”

  Cris decided to speak up for himself. “It’s true, sir. I’ve been cryogenically frozen since the twenty-first century. Four hundred years have passed since that time, so I understand. Thanks to Lora.. um… Miss Chen here, I was awoken and restored to life. Now, I am just trying to get back to civilisation and figure out what to do next.”

  Paramo blinked, eyeing Cris with an astonished look for a moment. “Can it be true?” Then he smiled, and turned his face to Chen. “What a truly amazing discovery you have made here,” he said. “Your grandfather’s blood runs through your veins, child. There is no doubt of that. But you are so far from home, and you look weary. Come with me. I would like you to be guests in my house.”

  “Cristian,” Paramo said. “Can I call you Cristian?”

  Cris nodded. “That’s fine, sir.”

  “I have something for you. A Rãvier, to replace those clothes on your back.” Paramo was holding a small circular device in his right palm. Like the other technology Cris had seen so far it appeared to be organic, covered in metal-like concentric circles with some kind of glowing orb in the centre.

  “A suit? Like Lora’s?” Cris said. He frowned, unsure of exactly what he was looking at.

  “Yes,” Paramo said. “I recovered several of these from the wreckage of a cargo vessel some years ago. The symbiotic biomechanism at the suit’s core will bond with you as a host organism, thus enhancing your capabilities. The Rãvier Unit was designed as an all-purpose environment suit for its Creators, and will be essential for you if you are to survive in this desert.”

  Chen, who was seated nearby, nodded. “Thankyou, Paramo. I am in your debt. A simple pair of shoes would have been enough.”

  Paramo smiled as he handed the unit over to Cris. “Think nothing of it, child. I would have you reach your destination as safely as possible. There is much that our people could learn from somebody like Cris here.”

  They were sitting in a large, oval-shaped chamber with thick wooden beams supporting a cathedral-like ceiling. According to Paramo, the construction of this building had taken place piece-by-piece over many years, helped a lot by resources scavenged from the desert. It combined primitive architecture with high technology. A multi-layered complex with sleeping quarters for each of Paramo’s ‘children’, each chamber was a cave-like space with ragged windows and storage nooks. Equipment was stored in every conceivable place.

  One of the other men, still dressed in full bodysuit and breathing filter, approached from a side doorway and said something to Paramo in their own dialect. Paramo nodded, and sent him away.

  “Where do you get them from?” Chen asked, referring to the younger man.

  “My children?” Paramo said. He smiled. “I recruit them. I usually find them wandering the desert, not too unlike yourselves. Runaways, or fortune seekers. Each of them is eager to learn from my decades of experience in this way of life.”

  “What exactly is it that you do here?” Cris asked.

  Paramo looked at him. “You might consider me a scavenger, but I prefer to think of myself as a free man. Free from the tyranny of the Silver City, and it’s influence over the Twelve Factions. Not everybody subscribes to the teachings of Damarus. Out here, I live my own way.”

  Cris was examining the Rãvier casing, trying to figure out how it worked. “In my time, there was no Damarus,” he said. “How exactly do I put this thing on?”

  “Take your old clothes off first,” Chen told him. “Then place it to your chest. The biomechanism will do the rest.”

  Cris moved out of their field of vision, feeling a little awkward. He did as he was told, pulling off his moth-eaten shirt and jeans, and placed the thing to the skin of his chest, not knowing exactly what to expect. It felt soft and warm and started to humm. After another moment, it began to move – as if unfolding, growing and expanding over his entire body. Within seconds, he was covered – head to toe – in a kind of glistening black oil, which snaked around him, tightening, fitting to his form.

  “Just relax,” Chen told him. “It’ll be over in a minute.”

  Cris licked his lips and submitted to the bizarre metamorphosis, and sure enough, within a few more seconds, he found himself clad in a military-like exoskeleton with metallic shards protruding from his shoulders, just like the one Chen wore. What surprised him was how light the thing was, how easy to move.

  “The Rãvier will listen to you,” Chen said. “Tell it what you want it to do, and it will obey.”

  Cris took a deep breath, nodding, then came and sat down beside her. “This is all so new to me,” he said. “I think I’ll get the hang of wearing it first before I start talking to it. Thanks, Paramo.”

  Paramo nodded. “You are most welcome. Anybody who does not recognise Damarus is a friend of mine.”

  Cris licked his lips, taking a drink of water provided by one of Paramo’s ‘children’. “Who exactly is this ‘Damarus’?” he as
ked. “From what I understand he’s some kind of historical prophet. What happened to him?”

  Lorelei Chen was quick to answer him, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with Paramo’s stance on things. “Damarus still lives to this day. He is the leader of the worldwide Church, and resides in the Sacred Palace, in the heart of the Silver City. He has lived an unnaturally long life, more than three hundred years, in fact. He is rarely seen in public, but those who have gazed upon his face have told tales of his divine nature. And his writings – the Books of the Third Testament – contain promises of how his followers can return to the path of enlightenment, and thus achieve Ascension into Heaven.”

  Cris frowned. This was difficult for him to believe. Turning to Paramo, he said, “So you disagree with this view?”

  “Absolutely,” Paramo said. “As did your grandfather, Lorelei Chen. We were once Holy Guards at the Sacred Palace, attending to Damarus himself. The more time we spent there, the more we were convinced that he was anything but ‘divine’. It was my opinion that his teachings were merely fables meant to fill a soul bereft of hope with purpose, and twist it to his own will. Somehow, Damarus had managed to unify the world’s religions into his own and take control, with strange intent. My opinion, and that of Doci Chen, was that we were being suppressed. Unfortunately, Damarus did not take kindly to this view, and Doci was killed. I was lucky to only be banished from the Silver City. To this day, I seek to discover forbidden historical knowledge to show others that Damarus, despite his apparent power, is not of God.”

  “Where did he come from?” Cris asked.

  “He was sent through Heaven’s Gate by God,” Chen insisted. “To save humankind from the Darkness following the Apo’calupsis.”

  Paramo shook his head vigorously. “Nonsense, child. That is what they would have you believe. ‘Heaven’s Gate’ is nothing more than a wormhole in space.” He looked at Cris as he spoke. “At the outskirts of this Solar System is a phenomenon that has puzzled us for centuries, a natural wormhole. At the centre of this phenomenon lies a huge structure, obviously built by some advanced civilisation eons ago. The structure looks very much like a gate, except it is many times bigger than any space structure of ours. The gate is fairly plain all around, but there are markings here and there, in some ancient language that has not been fully decrypted.”