by Wearmouth
“Thanks,” he said, breaking eye contact and looking out through the main entrance of the temple. A shaft of yellow-pink light stained the dark floor. In as long as it takes for lightning to strike, she thought she might have imagined all of this and was in fact back on Earth, such was the similarity of the light.
It reminded her of a time when she was with her parents in Italy. They were visiting Vatican City, sitting in one of the vestibules early one morning when the sunlight rose and spilled into the ancient building.
“I’m scared, Den,” Layla finally said, feeling like she had just let a fragment of insanity breach the surface and join the great atmosphere of mental anxiety that surrounded her like a thick fog.
“I know, but we’ll get through this.”
“I hope so. I can’t lose you, or Charlie.”
She cringed slightly at the naked veracity of her words.
Denver’s gloved hand touched hers. They locked eyes through visors.
“I know I’m not exactly Shakespeare when it comes to sharing my thoughts and feelings,” Denver said. “I have so many… emotions that I don’t really know how to express. All my life I just survived from day to day and I never had time to read or learn this stuff. But I do want you to know that though I may not find the words, I do have feelings, and I do feel that we have a future. I’ll fight for that, at least.”
“That’s as poetic as anything I’ve heard, so you’re not doing so bad.”
He was such a beautiful man, she thought, staring at his earnest, rugged face. He put the point on the arrow when he talked about survival. Even though Charlie had survived more life-threatening situations than a herd of cats, there was something in Denver that only amplified that drive.
Having never known what their world was like before the invasion meant that he knew nothing else other than clinging to life. He was pure, innocent, and ruthless in his desire to continue to exist regardless of the situation put before him.
She thought that if she were to throw her lot in with someone, there was no one better to do it with than Denver.
He was an evolutionist’s ideal creature. As close as it got to a sure bet.
“How are you doing for water?” Denver asked.
Layla checked her internal HUD and saw that the water level in her suit was at fifty percent. According to the small smattering of numbers, it appeared that would last her a Tredeyan day and a half. She told Denver.
“That’s about the same as mine. I think we should fill up with the priest’s supply. I don’t know how long we’ll be trekking for, and we don’t want to regret not getting the water when we had the chance.”
“I agree.”
The two stood and quietly and carefully stepped into a small unremarkable room where the priest had stored food and water supplies. They were in dull gray containers that looked as though they were made from a kind of graphite composite.
Using the supplied hoses and filling ports, they got their water levels up to full capacity. “It’s like filling a car with petrol,” Layla said with a smile as she took the hose from Denver’s refill port: a small hole just above the small of his back.
They shared a smile and a nervous laugh as they finished up.
“I don’t know about you,” Denver said, “but even with everything that’s gone on, I’m not feeling very tired.”
“Me neither. It’s the fear and anxiety. I still feel like I’m buzzing on adrenalin.”
A click came over the intercom and then Charlie’s voice. “Hey, you two, where are you? I just woke up and you’ve gone!”
“Easy, Dad,” Denver said. “We’re just getting water. We’ll be right there. I can still see you through the door. What are you doing awake?”
“Taking my watch so you can get some sleep.”
Layla and Denver joined Charlie in the main area of the temple.
“We’re not tired,” Denver said.
“So? Sit down and rest.”
Layla really wasn’t in the mood to sit around and do nothing, not when there was an alien planet right outside the door.
With the sun up, this might be one of their last chances to get a good look at the planet and really see what it was like.
She looked at Denver, then to Charlie. “I’m going to go out for a quick walk, and before you say anything, I won’t be going far, just a few laps around the temple to burn off some of this anxiety and get a look at the place without Vingo pressing the pace.”
“I’ll join you,” Denver said. “We’re on the intercom so you know we won’t be getting in trouble.”
“What’s the range of our comms, Vingo?” Charlie said.
Vingo looked at Charlie but didn’t respond.
“I’ll keep checking in,” Denver said. “We’ll be okay.”
“Fine, take your rifles,” Charlie said. “If you see anything, get your asses back here right away. I doubt it’s just the scion we have to worry about.”
The thought of that machine made Layla’s skin crawl and for a moment she considered staying inside, but her curiosity won and she headed out. Even if it was just for a minute, she knew it’d help her relax, and besides, it would get her away from the still form of that damned machine for a while.
***
A few laps around the temple did indeed help quash her nervousness. With Denver by her side, rifle at the ready, she could really take in the building’s architecture, wonder about their construction methods, and make a mental note of the landscape in which the temple stood like a dark beacon. The circular structure was made out of carved light brown blocks. Small squares of thinner layered rock, like slate but in thicker plates, covered the domed roof.
“It’s actually quite a beautiful planet, in its own way,” Layla said, turning to lean against the stone of the temple and looking out to the forest and mountains that stretched into the sky beyond. The sun shone through gaps in the canopy, brightening an array of pink, purple and yellow plants on the ground between the floret-shaped lime green trees.
“If the trees and plants weren’t as huge and oddly shaped,” Denver added, “it wouldn’t be too different to Earth. Sure, the grass is more yellow and there’s a distinct lack of birds and instincts, but the soil and the rocks and the hills, even that stream cutting between those stone ledges, don’t really look… alien.”
“That’s because they’re not,” Layla said. “Not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is an exoplanet.” When Denver looked at her blankly she carried on. “A planet most like Earth. Before the croatoans invaded and took over, NASA had a program that searched the sky for other planets like Earth: those that were in the so-called Goldilocks zone.”
“The what?”
“A distance from a sun that was neither too hot nor too cold to prevent life. Like Earth, this planet orbits the sun at a distance that means we’re not getting cooked by heat and radiation or being frozen to death, like the croatoan-induced ice age. You know how difficult that was for most people to get through.”
“I see,” Denver said. “So what’s the chance of there being more of these exoplanets?”
“The percentage is small, but given the billions and billions of star systems, mathematically there are innumerable planets within a Goldilocks zone that could be perfect for life to form and thrive.
“Some people think it’s a good thing that there’s other life out there, but I’m not so sure. Seems to me, these aliens are worse than us. Would probably be better if we were the only ones.
“Anthropologically speaking, I agree, but there is something compelling about studying life forms other than ours. It might bring us some answers to our existence and the reasons why.” Layla ended her train of thought with a sigh.
She reminded herself this wasn’t a field experiment, but survival.
“Look, a scion ship,” Denver said. He pointed the tip of his rifle to their right and up into the sky. Behind a gathering of wispy purple clouds, the undeniable dark
diamond shape split the sky silently as though it were an apparition.
They both froze and stepped back into the shadow of the temple.
Layla moved the rifle from around her back and crooked the butt into her shoulder. The suit had a special dimpled section that allowed the rifle to fit snugly and with a great deal of support. A single pivot point allowed free movement while aiming. It seemed these tredeyans had thought of everything with these suits, which made her wonder just how long they had been kidnapping and using humans for.
She held her breath as the black diamond in the sky drew closer.
Denver mentioned it to his father and all became still as it approached.
The scion ship passed high overhead, its course unchanging.
Layla let out a breath. “It’s gone,” she said. “Probably heading for the main command control given its direction.”
Somewhere in the distance, she heard the whump of plasma cannons and then the high-pitched zap of lasers. It appeared that the fight had started again. It made sense given that the tredeyans were a nocturnal race.
But there were still the croatoans… She didn’t know how many in number they were on this planet. It seemed like the scions weren’t taking any chances, regardless.
Before she could suggest they return to the others, something glinted through a formation of standings stones fifty meters to the north of their location. She waited before telling Denver and spied through the rifle’s scope.
“What is it?” Denver said, an edge to his voice. He had already sensed something with her movement. Nothing seemed to get by him when he was on alert like this. It made her feel safe with him.
Layla scanned through the cracks in the white standing stones as they crisscrossed each other at a variety of angles. The formation didn’t look like a tredeyan-made area. Rather, it looked like the results of a miniature plate movement, the rock splintering up like twenty-foot-high baby mountains, all craggy and sharp and wild.
A bright light flickered through one of the gaps again.
“There’s a light or something over there in that formation of rocks,” she said.
Denver instantly crouched and raised his rifle. A second later: “I see it. Follow me; stay behind.”
She ignored him and stepped out, preferring to advance by his side.
A burst of static noise hissed in Layla’s intercom. She looked across to Denver.
“Probably local interference,” Denver said.
The two of them stepped forward slowly and deliberately, drawing their rifles in wide sweeping arcs as they approached.
Soft grass and dirt sank beneath Layla’s every footstep. Just a few meters away from the miniature mountain range, her foot sank into the ground, collapsing into a hole, bringing a bolt of surprise. Her stomach lurched and her right leg staggered forward in reaction to retain her balance.
She fell to her knee and dropped the rifle to the ground, her hands flinging out ahead of her to prevent her from smacking her visor against the rocky surface. She caught her breath, looked down, and saw that her leg had indeed collapsed through the surface into a kind of burrow.
“A little help,” she asked, looking up at Denver, but his body was alert, crouched, and he continued to stalk forward to the rocks.
Layla grumbled and pulled herself free, retrieving her rifle and catching up with Denver. They stepped between two of the taller, more vertical stones. They were the color of white marble—pure and without defect.
“What is it?” she whispered again, feeling her hands tremble against the stock and handhold of the rifle.
“I… don’t know,” Denver said. He stood now in the middle of the stone formation. They were arranged in a rough circle some ten meters in diameter. Toward the rear of one side, a larger structure stood, encrusted with creeping blue and green vegetation. Around its base, yellow grass resembling straw grew to a meter high, obscuring a plinth of some kind.
“That’s not natural,” Layla said, stalking closer to the object.
“Tredeyan made?” Denver guessed. “It looks ancient.”
While Denver remained alert, his rifle in position sweeping the area, Layla moved closer to the object. Ovoid in shape, it stood at least three meters high and two wide with an ornately carved rim made from some dull black metal.
Using her free hand, Layla moved the tall grass aside to reveal the plinth beneath. Alien symbols were carved with an exact edge. She had no idea what the words meant, but whatever this thing was, it didn’t appear as if anyone had used or visited it in eons.
However, that was a guess on her part. She couldn’t be exactly sure of its heritage as things could age and weather differently here, not to mention the vegetation could grow in an entirely different way. What looked like hundreds of years of wear and tear and decades of moss and other growth could be a year’s worth for all she truly knew.
“I think this is actually a step,” she said, smoothing her hand across the plinth and noticing how it led to the large oval atop it. It reminded her a little of a large mirror she had growing up. If you’d removed the glass, it would look similar to this structure, albeit smaller.
Remembering that brought to mind the idea that perhaps this was designed for people to walk up to, and then walk through. Perhaps it was some kind of religious ritual? It’d make sense given it was only about fifty strides from the temple.
“I don’t see the light,” Denver said. “Probably just a weird reflection. We ought to get back.”
“You’re probably right, but one second, just let me look what’s behind this, I want to see if there’s another step to back up a theory of what it is.”
Layla stood up from her crouch and stepped to the side of the structure but soon fell back as a scion prism came floating up out of the tall grass to hover just an arm’s length away from her face.
Layla screamed, staggered back, and her suit clanked against a rough stone.
The floating black prism, the size of a football, hovered above her and spun on its axis. The top half rose from the rest of it by a centimeter, exposing a glowing blue strip.
“Denver!” Layla shouted as the strip began to hum and vibrate.
A green laser dot danced across her chest until it rested over her heart. She screamed again and closed her eyes, bracing herself against the plasma blast that was about to follow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sounds of gunfire within Freetown finally came to an end, birthing a still silence that made Augustus smile behind his mask.
He hoped taking Unity would be as routine, though knew that under Aimee’s command, they would at least put up more of a fight instead of surrendering like submissive dogs.
The idea of coming to Freetown turned out to be a good decision.
They’d recruited more troops, gathered root, medical supplies, and even weapons from a ramshackle workshop that Augustus knew belonged to the creator of the bomb that downed the croatoan mother ship: Charlie’s old associate, Mike.
In the cool room of Layla’s old office, Augustus leaned forward on the desk, looking across the white-walled space to Maria, who sat on a leather sofa. She tried to look calm, collected, her legs crossed and her arms folded in her lap.
The tremble in her shoulders told Augustus everything he needed to know: she was scared of him. Good.
“So… what now?” Maria asked, darting her eyes first to Augustus, then away to some mysterious other point within the room.
Augustus waited to respond, enjoying her discomfort. He glanced around and tried to imagine Layla working in here. It had her hallmarks all over it; bland, empty space, with a singular purpose: study. No character or flair.
That was the problem with the sciences, he thought—too objective, too analytical. He’d never met a scientist he liked. Not to say that religious types were much better with their equally dull-witted outlook on life and their hokey faith.
Augustus viewed himself as completely impartial to life and its theories. Whatever was the
truth was none of his business. All he knew was that while he still breathed, there were places to conquer, people to mold to his whims.
What was life if not but a grand game?
He asked that of Maria, making her jump with the sudden, unexpected question. She looked down at her hands and picked at the fabric stretched over her knees.
“I… don’t know,” she said, dropping her head.
“No, you wouldn’t, would you, having been created for a purpose that you now have no reason to fulfill. You must spend a lot of time wondering why?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Maria said, raising her chin and looking Augustus squarely in the eye, daring to challenge him. Perhaps this one had hope yet.
“No. I don’t. I’ve never asked myself why. I’ve always asked myself, why not?” Augustus stood and stretched his legs. He was getting tired and needed time to himself to enjoy one of his root cigars, but he wasn’t done here yet. He stepped forward, standing over Maria, letting his shadow devour her.
“I can give you the purpose you crave,” he said, holding out his hand.
Maria hesitated, but eventually held out her hand and took his. He decided against making a show of his domination over her with a tight grip—he’d already established that. Instead, he caressed her soft, warm hand, comforting her.
Lowering the register of his voice and giving her his best practiced sincere face, he said, “There is no reason why in this life. There is no guidebook, no direction. We live in chaos and have to embrace it. What I’m offering you is a safe zone where you can just be, without wondering why. You can just act and enjoy the grand game, knowing that nothing we do matters to the universe. We make it matter to us. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Tears glistened in Maria’s wide eyes. Her nostrils flared and she visibly shook. He continued to hold her hand and rubbed the back of it with his other, encapsulating hers in his completely.
“I would,” she finally said, giving in to a sob.
Augustus went in for the metaphorical kill, pulling her close to his body, and wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him and sobbed into the crook of his shoulder. He rubbed her back and whispered comforting words into her ears before finally saying, “Tell me everything you know about Mike and Mai.”
