The Sons of Sora

by Paul Tassi

  “But soon I deduced it was not the only one. I discovered Thuul next. Its people were primitive, but still Exos. Then hundreds of years later, I found the next colony. And the next. I realized there could be countless fertilized planets, each in various stages of development. Some were empty, extinguished by war and disease. Some had surged ahead and achieved wonders. But none of the few planets I found were a larger threat than this Sora. So how does one soul kill a civilization?”

  “The way a seed becomes a forest,” Alpha said quietly. His gray skin had gone white, and he looked sick.

  Sharp laughter.

  “Indeed, but my first attempt was clumsier than that. The Sorans had birthed the first few truly intelligent AIs. Moving in shadow, I invaded facilities unseen, rewrote code. Programmed them to be far more clever than their masters anticipated.

  “The metal minds were dangerous, but more ineffective than I imagined. And though I set their wrath in motion, I had no control over them. I watched them nearly take the planet, and I watched them fail. All that survived were dismantled, and the technology was outlawed, existing only in black markets and secret laboratories. Too sparse to be used again for an uprising.

  “But the Sorans, they were on an eternal quest to create servants to spare them from their dreaded tasks of labor. When the robots did not suffice, they created their organic descendants. The first Xalans.

  “These creatures were blank genetic slates. They had the spark of Soran life inside them, but they were docile, harmless. Their intelligence and independence was locked deep away inside them. I sought to unleash it.”

  “No,” Alpha said, stopping him. “It was Zero. The first true Xalan. He shaped us. He put the light in our eyes.”

  “And who put the light in his?” the Archon scoffed. “Who wrote the genetic mutations into the DNA of the others? The lust for freedom. The capacity for violence. The physical changes. These things did not evolve. I engineered them.”

  What little color Alpha had left drained from his face.

  “It was I who sowed the seeds of rebellion, but in the end, the creatures were still too weak. They were cast off to that wretched rock, Xala. But in the end, it was the best gift the Sorans could have given me. There I was free to shape the people to my will. Working through their own leaders, forever shrouded in darkness, never revealing my true intentions. I believed they would not fight and die for me, a stranger from across the stars. But they would for their families. For their pride.

  “Over the years I invented the lie that the Xalans were a sovereign race, ravaged by Sora, their planet destroyed and their technology stolen. I cultivated their rage for centuries, whipping up the exploding population into a bloodlust. I whispered in their ear of other planets where Sorans lurked. Thuul, Makari, Earth, and all the rest. We raided those worlds before Sora even knew they existed, and waged a war that Sora never believed we could fight. I gave them technology light-years ahead of their own. I cultivated the best and brightest of them to develop and implement it. And I made sure to cull those who were perhaps too intelligent, and more disruptive than useful as a result.”

  He glanced at Alpha, who was seething.

  “But still, it was not fast enough. The Xalans I evolved were warlike, but not yet Az’ghal. I borrowed a trick from the Exos, and started forcing more and more dangerous mutations. What few subjects survived were darkened by the process, but knew unlimited power. First, only strength and speed, but recently the psionic gifts have come.”

  “The Shadows,” Asha said.

  “Shadows to his flame,” came a whispered voice in the darkness. It was Lucas.

  His typing had slowed, and he was listening like the rest of them. There was a dark look in his bright eyes.

  “But I realized my task was endless,” the Archon continued. “In ten thousand years of searching, I discovered only seven Exos worlds. I stole back to Sora, to this place, and uncovered hints of remaining data that pointed toward a larger, inaccessible cluster of information. One that could only be transported directly into a user’s mind. The format implied the data was a map. I knew the Exos would not die and leave no words to their children as to where their brothers and sisters and cousins were all hiding throughout the galaxy.

  “I dragged humans, Sorans, Oni, all of the others from every world into this chamber. I forced them into the light, but each was rejected, and I struck them down in turn. I knew the Exos were waiting. Waiting for someone with the gift. That was when they would trust their own children enough with the truth. They thought Sora would reach this apex first, which is why they rested here.

  “I tried with the one you called the Corsair, the first to survive the Shadow transformation process. But the Exos rejected him all the same, likely due to his madness, or his cloned DNA.”

  “But not me,” Lucas said. “You needed me.”

  “When you survived, the human, I believed I had my key at last. Your massive power only confirmed what I suspected, and by the time we arrived here, I knew victory was at hand. No more need to stalk through the stars, sniffing out the stench of Exos. Now I have a map. And these worlds will fall now more quickly than ever before. I grow old, at last, but now I will see this through. All of New Exos will burn. If my Az’ghal brethren ever arrive, they may not find me, but they will see the ashes of a hundred worlds. They will rejoice in my life’s work, and I will live forever, immortalized in legend.”

  The room was silent as the Archon finished his lengthy, terrible tale. He was the architect of all of this. The doom of one race, and the enslavement of another.

  Noah laughed. Everyone turned toward him like he was mad. Perhaps he was. All he could think of was Kyra, and how if she was here, she would likely try and talk the Archon into surrendering, and letting both sides live in peace. And she probably could do it too. Noah covered his mouth and blamed his momentary insanity on the blood loss.

  “Is the data entered?” the Archon said, taking the scroll from Lucas and projecting a galactic map into the air. A hundred and eight points of green light greeted him.

  “It is,” Lucas said solemnly.

  “If you are lying, it is the woman who dies.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then it is time for your final gift.”

  Lucas moved quickly, but not faster than the Archon. As if from nowhere, a three-pronged needle appeared in the Archon’s clawed hand. Lucas tried to lunge at him, but the Archon caught him by the chest, and the needles dug into his back. Everyone raced forward but were thrown back by a quick pulse of energy. The vials drained neon into Lucas’s spine, just between his shoulder blades, and he sagged down to his knees. He fell to his hands, the crest of his head touching the ground.

  He lurched, shook, then swung himself upright.

  His face was calm.

  His skin was charred.

  His eyes were blue, and empty.

  “Your savior, transformed,” the Archon said. His laughter raked through their minds as Lucas stared blankly past all of them. A shadow of a man.

  There was an icy chill in the air as they ascended back to the surface. They were lost now, Noah realized as he looked at the faces of Asha and Alpha. Their despair was tangible, and it weighed on all of them as they trudged back up the stone steps of the cathedral. Lucas was gone completely. He placed one foot in front of the other, just as they did, but his gaze was infinite. Perhaps he’d been a twisted man these past few months as the darkness consumed him, but he was still a man. But now? All Noah had to do was steal a glimpse of his eyes, and see that there was none of his father left. The Corsair lives. The thought sent shivers through him. His head was still reeling from the fountain of blood that had escaped his neck in the cavern below. It had dried on the front of his armor, and the silver had almost entirely turned crimson.

  A ring of Shadows greeted them at the surface, leering at them with sharp teeth, their own confiscated weapons hanging off their plating. Noah eyed his hammer. One swing, he thought. One spike into
the Archon’s face and it could all be over. It was such a simple thought, but one far outside the bounds of possibility.

  The group was herded back through the large sandstone doors and out into the red waste of Rhylos. Millions of Xalans greeted them with a chorus of growls and snarls.

  “It is done,” the Archon said suddenly in their minds, and the minds of the millions before them. Noah noticed the cluster of camerabots was back, streaming their every move to all of Sora, no doubt.

  “Their hero is now my herald,” the Archon continued, motioning to Lucas, who gazed over the raucous crowd with indifference.

  “The conquest begins again, and Xala shall rise not just on this world, but on countless others as well!”

  The Xalans didn’t know the Archon’s truth, revealed down in the pit below, but they cheered the idea of conquest all the same. It was all many of them had ever known. Az’ghal in training, Noah thought. But no less dangerous, as they’d shown.

  “But first, a demonstration,” the Archon said, turning toward their pitiful band. “A lesson to the people of this world that it is useless to resist their own extinction.”

  He shot a sharp look toward the nearby Xalans who slowly backed outward, forming a circle around them. Only their group and the Archon’s Shadow guard remained. Lucas was looking up at the circling funnel of Xalan ships above, immune to what was happening around him.

  Another nod from the Archon, and Noah felt a claw sink into his armor plating. He was dragged backward toward the edge of the ring. Erik and Alpha were being wrestled away as well, and soon it was just the Archon, Asha, and Lucas in the center of the red stone floor.

  “What’s happening?” Erik asked, looking to Alpha, who remained silent. Noah recognized the fear in his face. He didn’t even seem to notice the Shadow’s claws in his arms, sending trickles of black blood down his skin. He was watching the camerabots, which were all trained on the three figures on the sand.

  “A demonstration …” he said quietly. “An execution.”

  Fear seized Noah as well as he suddenly understood what was about to happen.

  The Archon started to rise, unaided, into the air. Many Xalans instinctively dropped to their knees, reverent to such power, but their Shadow captors remained upright, their grips iron.

  “Citizens of Sora,” he said, star-filled eyes swirling. “A test. Your champion, against mine.”

  Asha looked at him, horrified. Lucas remained expressionless.

  “Arm her,” the Archon commanded toward a nearby Shadow. The creature took Asha’s black sword from his belt and tossed it toward her. It landed with its blade digging into the red stone under the swirling sands.

  “Your new High Chancellor, Asha the Earthborn. Adored hero of many worlds, the most fearsome warrior your people have produced in millennia. May she honor you here today.”

  He turned to the charred man standing across from her.

  “And here, her former equal. Now a thousand times her better. Her Lucas. Now my Lucas.”

  Lucas turned at the sound of his name to stare absently at the Archon.

  “He can’t …” Noah began with no one to hear him over the howls of the Xalans.

  Asha stared down at the sword sticking out of the ground, and back up at the Archon.

  “I won’t fight him,” she said coldly. “Not for you.”

  The Archon’s sharp laughter raked their minds.

  “Of course not for me, Chancellor. For them.”

  He brought up a trio of floating holoscreens, which showed multiple aerial shots of Elyria. Its streets were filled with military and civilians alike, all staring at viewscreens that were in turn showing Asha watching them. As crowded as the plains of Rhylos were with Xalans, there were three times as many Sorans jammed into Elyria. All standing on top of enough antimatter to obliterate them in seconds.

  “Have you forgotten? You are their mother now. And let us not overlook your actual children.”

  Noah felt his rib cage constrict, like some massive metal snake was wrapped around him, crushing him. He tried to cry out, but the air had already left his lungs. His eyes bulged and he saw Erik struggling in similar pain next to him. The Shadows let both of them drop to their knees, and their bodies twisted in agony. Alpha was making unintelligible sounds and thrashing wildly, trying to free himself to reach them.

  And then, the pain was gone, and Noah panted with his nose nearly touching the sand. He looked up and saw the fear in Asha’s eyes.

  “Slowly,” the Archon said to Lucas. “Give the appearance of a contest, at least.”

  The blank look on Lucas’s face was suddenly replaced by something far worse. Fury. Without hesitation, he leapt toward the woman he once loved.

  “Lucas, wait!” she cried in the split second before he reached her.

  But Asha didn’t have time to consider any more principled stands. She whipped her sword out of the ground and used the flat of the blade to deflect a thunderous punch from Lucas. The impact sent her cartwheeling across the desert floor, and the area was now buzzing with the sounds of the Xalans beating on their armor plating with their claws. The camerabots weaved around each other to catch every angle of the spectacle.

  Asha leapt to her feet but Lucas was on her already. Noah had never seen anything move so fast. Not even the last Corsair. Asha took a forearm smash that visibly cracked the armor on her abdomen and sent her skidding across the ground. Somehow, she kept a grip on her sword and used the pommel to deflect a kick from the instantly appearing Lucas, who was immediately at her side again, no matter how far she was thrown. His eyes were molten, his movements precise and mechanical.

  A lightning fast series of punches landed all over Asha and she was visibly bloodied by the end of the barrage. Lucas leveled a straight kick at her, but she found the strength to leap over the top of him, assisted by her barely functional power armor. She looped her sword around so the flat of the blade struck his back. It did nothing, naturally, but a quick flick of her thumb sent electricity surging through Lucas, and his back arched in momentary pain.

  Noah’s first instinct was to cheer, but he realized it wasn’t some monster she was fighting. It was his father. No, it isn’t, said a voice in his mind. Not anymore.

  “Lucas, stop!” she cried again as he convulsed, keeping his feet.

  Though the shock had stunned Lucas for a half second, it had no lingering effects, nor did her words. He whipped around and caught Asha in the jaw with a kick that sent her spiraling end over end before she crashed awkwardly to the desert floor. He followed up with a sharp kick to her ribs that lofted her into the air before he smashed her back down with two fists to her spine. She’d lost her sword now, and scrambled for it, wincing in pain, bleeding from a dozen places.

  Her fingers found the handle and she whipped it around toward him. She slashed left and right as she backed away, but Lucas dodged each swing with ease. Finally, the razor’s edge nearly caught his throat, but the blade appeared frozen. Shifting his position, Noah realized Lucas had actually caught the sword in between his thumb and forefinger.

  No one is that fast, Noah thought. Even the Xalans were stunned, and momentarily ceased their clanging.

  Asha wasted no time, however, flicking the pommel again. But Lucas released his grip before the electricity found him, and kicked Asha in the chest as she and the crackling sword flew away from him.

  The fight was leaving her now. Noah could see it in her unfocused eyes. She scrambled backward as Lucas approached, walking at a leisurely pace this time. Asha tried to cry out, but couldn’t find her voice amid bruised lungs and broken ribs. She held the sword aloft, but there was a whir of motion, and Lucas kicked the blade downward into the sand. It flew from her grip and bounced on the stone. When it came to a rest, the darksteel blade was bent to a painful angle.

  Asha looked as battered as her weapon. She struggled to her feet, but was helped by Lucas, his hand locked around her throat. His grip bent the metal plating on her armor inw
ard, and his eyes burned with rage. Only strangled gasps escaped from Asha’s throat.

  Noah couldn’t hear what he was shouting, nor did he feel the claws of the Shadow digging through his armor and into his flesh as he thrashed violently against his grip. Lucas turned his head slowly toward the Archon, who nodded approvingly.

  A single word escaped from Asha’s collapsing throat, her green eyes brimming with blood and tears.

  42

  “Lucas!”

  Lucas blinked.

  Where was he? The last thing he remembered was a cave. Pain in his back. His head was swimming. He could hear primal shouts and screams around him, but everything was a bleary mess.

  “Lucas.”

  His eyes started focus. The voice. It called to him through the darkness. What had he dreamt about? He was fighting bandits, cannibals, Xalans, Shadows, the Archon himself. But that wasn’t real, was it?

  “Lucas …”

  The voice was growing fainter now. The light crept into his eyes and he saw a shape above him. An angel, he thought. But it was Asha, in all her radiance. Those heartstopping light green eyes. That knowing smile, the one she showed only to him.

  But no. There was no smile. And her beautiful eyes were marred with black-and-brown bruises, her tearducts filled with blood.

  He looked down and saw his own arm was raised, and his hand was a vice around her neck. The green irises disappeared as her eyes rolled back into her head.

  “No!” he cried out, all of his senses returning in full at once. He dropped her immediately, and she collapsed to the ground in a heap, gasping for air. There was blood on the sand. So much blood.

  “Finish her,” came the cold voice in his mind. He bent down to help Asha, and turned to find the Archon hovering behind him. One look at him, and the Archon knew Lucas had returned to fill his body once more.

  “Impossible …”

  The Archon extended his clawed hand.

  But before he could rip either of them apart, something screamed in the distant horizon. Ships. A sky full of ships.