by Justin Bell
"They seemed to think I'd be . . . joining them," I say, trying to remember exactly what Jathus had said before the falling superstructure had squashed him and Krabex. Why do I remember their names so clearly?
"You don't know why?" asks Thragdon.
I shake my head. "One of them said he thought I'd come along more willingly. He mentioned that Athelonians were oppressors, not them."
"Same propaganda they've been spinning for generations," Thragdon replied.
"I don't know anything about Bragdon propaganda," I reply. "I know what they said, and really, that's all I remember."
Huntsman nods.
"That's a good start," says Thragdon. "What else do you remember? How did the shuttle explode?"
My eyes flash upward, glaring at Thragdon. "What did you say?"
Huntsman flashes what looks to be a smirk, but for the briefest of moments.
"The shuttle," Thragdon continues. "Evidence suggests it exploded from the inside, not an attack from the outside."
Another swift flash in my head shows Bragdons in a dark corner, me running, and purple plasma soaring past me to striking the reactor . . . but how did the Bragdon get inside to begin with?
"My memory is shaky on that," I reply. "But I get flashes sometimes. I remember Bragdons being inside the shuttle. Like they had boarded us or something."
The officers look at one another, then Thragdon turns to me. "The shuttle never slowed enough for boarding."
"I wish I had an answer for you," I say quietly. "But I don't. I have no idea."
Thragdon moves so suddenly I don't anticipate it. He shoves the chair aside and lurches forward, slamming both palms down on the table so loudly the sound echo in the small room.
"Don't lie to us!" he shouts. "Your mother saw it! She reported it!"
My eyes widen and I move backwards, my wrists straining on the shackles.
"She saw your eyes," Thragdon hisses. "She saw your skin change color. Ever since she reported it, she's been trying to deny it, but you can't avoid it any longer, Brie. We need to know what's going on!"
There's a blur of tears in my eyes and I hate myself for it. I don't want to cry in front of these people. With my lips between clenched teeth I glare at him, but do not speak.
Out in the hallway there's the even thumping of feet, and the door creaks open again, pressing far enough that another Adroxis Security Officer works his way inside.
"What's going on here?" he demands. This guard is wearing the full blown silver armor and blue tactical vest with an automatic weapon dangling from his left shoulder. He's got a holster on his thigh as well, and his eyes are shooting from Thragdon to Huntsman and back again.
"Do you know who her father is?" he asks. "What are you doing in here?"
Thragdon looks the man up and down. "I don't even recognize you," he barks. "What authority do you have to barge into our interrogation?"
"You dare question my authority?" the new officer asks, broadening his chest and drawing himself up straight-backed and imposing. He's not as tall as Thragdon, but somehow seems taller.
"This is none of your business, whoever you are," says Huntsman, turning towards him. "Why don't we step outside and figure this out."
"I don't think so," the new guy answers. "You can't bring a teenage girl in here and push her around, trying to force her to talk. The laws don't work that way."
"When it comes to Braxis," Thragdon bellows, "the laws work precisely that way. Now back off and let us do our jobs!"
With a sigh, the third officer drops his head as if resigning to whatever internal conflict he's battling with. He starts to turn towards the door, but hesitates for a moment, glancing back over his shoulder.
Thragdon turns towards him. "Did you not hear me?" he asks. He moves towards the third officer.
His fist is swifter than Thragdon, almost faster than my eye can follow. His waist twists and his hand lances out like a bat, swinging tight and straight, his fingers extended. It collides with Thragdon's throat, the knife edge of the gloved hand slamming hard. He coughs once, takes a step, and tumbles over the chair next to the table. Thragdon crashes to the floor with a clatter as Huntsman reaches towards his holster and steps towards this newcomer.
Without hesitation, the newcomer moves in to slap aside the pistol as it starts to emerge from Huntsman's holster, slams a fist into his stomach, and follows up with another rapid one-two punch to his jaw and temple. Huntsman's head thrashes one way and then the other. When the second strike hits, it throws him hard to the side, his head slams down on the smooth surface of the metal table, and he grunts, slips off the edge, and drops to the hard ground to lie motionless.
The room is still and quiet. This strange new Adroxis Security Officer stands before me, leaving the other two unconscious on the ground. He looks straight at me, his eyes focusing on mine.
"I swear, I don't know anything," I sputter. "I have no idea why they were harassing me."
"I know why they were harassing you," the man replies and unclasps the holster sheathing his pistol.
"What?" I say, "Why?"
His hand wraps around the handle of the pistol in his holster, withdraws it, and levels it towards me. From this angle, the barrel is large and blocky. The opening at the end is a vast chasm, a tunnel leading to eternity and staring straight at me.
Chapter Four
Nothing slows time like a pistol in your face. All I can see is the large, black hole at the stubbed front of the short barrel, looking at me like a single black eye, boring deep into me.
What's really crazy is that six months ago I didn't even know what it was like to have a pistol pointed at my face, but now it seems like it's happening more and more often. Was it something I said? Something I did?
The Adroxis Security Officer's mouth splits into a crooked gap of teeth. He hesitates for a moment, then the weapon shifts. I wince as his gloved finger presses the trigger and the barrel blasts pure green energy, radiates a sunshine flare of heat, and kicks up in his clenched fist. The green spear lances out snapping through the stale air of the interrogation room. I thrash, trying to push myself back, trying to to back away from the impact, but knowing my chained hands won't allow it.
With a clang, the green spear of light slams into the table in front of me. It screams into the thick, metal clasps bolted to the table in between my two clenched fists, exploding and scattering broken chain links in a fan-shape around me. The sudden release of the pressure on my wrists sends me lurching backwards, almost toppling my chair as the pungent stink of phaser-seared metal creeps up into my nostrils and stings my narrowed eyes.
I'm free.
But why?
I glance up at the Adroxis Security Officer, and right before my eyes, he seems to flicker, his face transposing from one thing to another, skin tightening, buckling and sliding away from his musculature. But his skin isn't really sliding, it's slipping, bunching, and re-knitting itself, a fascinating and grotesque orchestra of bizarre motion. The process takes a few moments, and when it's done, the Athelonian who was staring at me is no longer Athelonian. He is now Bragdon.
My eyes blink trying to adjust to this unexpected change in scenery. Two extra sleeves hang down limp at the side of this figure now standing in front of me. His four arms are now reduced to two. His back more hunched, and narrow, yellow eyes peer out from underneath a billed cap.
Okay, this is weird.
My fingers flex and twist as I try to wiggle feeling back into them. Why did he shoot my chains? He's freeing me?
"Well done, Grablix," growls a voice from the hallway behind him as a second Bragdon appears, cloaked in the baggy, ill-fitting uniform of Adroxis Security.
"What's going on?" I ask, my voice a low tremble.
Another Bragdon appears flanking the first, making three of them standing in the doorway to the interrogation room glowering at me. The Bragdon at the front of the group tilts his head as if investigating me, a thick tongue flicking out from between his l
ips before sucking in with a low slurp.
"Come with us, young one," he hisses.
I push back and scramble to my feet, shaking my head. "No. No, I won't."
My three would-be saviors glance at each other, confused.
"Get out!" I shout at them. "Leave me alone!" I take three backwards steps, but my back presses the smooth wall behind me. "Help!" I shout again, as loud as I can, my shrill voice ringing out in echo.
"Why do you scream?" the second Bragdon asks, angling around the table and coming towards me. I don't wait for him to reach me. My left foot shoots out in a stiff piston, striking him in the chest and sending him stumbling backwards towards the wall. In front of me, the lead Bragdon returns his pistol to level position, pointing it at my chest and snarling.
My knee lifts, shooting my leg forward, striking the metal table, and it slides across the floor, slamming the middle Bragdon in the stomach. Breath bursts from him as he doubles over, the pistol jerking upwards, firing a green blast into the ceiling. As he lurches to his right, I leap forward, somersaulting over the table, tucking low and tight. The third Bragdon lunges, but I elude his groping hands with a roll, slide off the back edge of the table, and hit the ground in a low crouch.
I ready myself to charge out of the room, but he's fast. The third would-be Adroxis Security Officer adjusts his stance to leap towards me. His narrow arms whip out to grab me. His slick fingers squeeze my right arm tightly. The forward momentum of my upper body stops abruptly while my feet keep scrabbling on the floor.
The Bragdon I kicked is already standing, bracing himself with a four-fingered hand pressed to the table. His other hand clutches at his stomach.
"Do not harm her," he says. "Command wants her uninjured!"
Command? Who is Command and why do they want me?
"Let go!" I shout and twist, lashing out with a stiff punch. The Bragdon holding my arm shifts on his feet and dips backwards, letting my wild swing soar past his rounded chin. As I lose my balance, the second Bragdon, Grablix I think they called him, moves in and grabs me with his own iron reptile grip, keeping me still.
"Please! Stop fighting! We are on the same side!" he pleads, his thick voice low and gravelly. I try to fight my way free, but between the three Bragdons and the two unconscious Adroxis Security Officers, there's no room to move and I can't get any leverage.
"Why do you Bragdons keep saying that to me?" I ask. "I'm Athelonian! I don't belong with you!"
"All will be explained," replies Grablix, his eyes widening and fingers reaching. "I promise, all will make sense in time."
I stop struggling, at least for the moment, turning towards him. He does have a point. They're not battling me here, I'm the one who started this fight.
"Why don't you explain it now?" I ask. "Convince me."
Grablix's eyes dart, slipping back and forth, checking each corner of the room, before fixating on me. "I'm not sure how much time we have," he says. "Adroxis Security could return any time now."
I meet his eyes with mine. "I'm going nowhere until you tell me what this is about."
"It's about war," hisses Grablix. "War between Braxis and Athelon. A war that has gone on for generations."
"War? What war? I've lived on Athelon for eighteen cycles and I've seen no indication of war."
Grablix sneers at me. "You've been sheltered in your pristine white castle, young one. Precisely as intended. But your time has come now. It's time you found out your true calling."
"What is my true calling? Why do the Bragdons keep telling me that? Stop talking in riddles!"
"We don't have time to have this conversation now," Grablix replies. "Walk with us, we will talk, but we need to get out of here before we're discovered."
His four slick fingers close around my wrist and pull me forward, sending me into a half walk/half stumble out the door behind him. The other two Bragdon drop into formation around us and we move out into the hallway, making our way towards the nearest exit.
As we step forward, he turns towards me. "You haven't always been Brie Northstar, daughter of Jary and Redax Northstar."
My eyes widen.
"There was a time when..."
The scream of plasma fire drowns out his next few words. His mouth gapes into a half-opened twist of surprise and pain. Grablix takes a hobbled step forward, coughing, a burst of smoke billowing from behind his pointed fangs.
"They found us!" screams one of the other Bragdons as he's breaking away from me to lift his pistol.
I snap my head around and see three members of Adroxis Security emerge around the corner with weapons ready.
The Bragdon fires, sending two green beams lancing towards the small group. Both shots splash off the metal wall to the left of the security team.
The team returns fire. A bracket of three shots strikes the Bragdon in the chest, throwing him against the wall. The last Bragdon standing moves in next to me, firing with his own pistol clutched tightly in both hands.
One of the Adroxis Security Officers takes a green shot to the face and spins backwards, out of view, but another one replaces him, stepping around and firing back. Their shots go wide, afraid to hit me, I figure, and I push away from the Bragdon, giving myself some space.
He turns and glares at me as if betrayed, his nostrils flaring. No words emerge from his lips, though his mouth moves. A flood of purple light swarms over him, blasting and burning him.
The exchange takes only seconds. The swift exchange of gunfire consumes the hallway for a short time, yet fades quickly to near silence. Three dead Bragdon pile around me, and I see the prone form of a fallen Athelonian several yards away. Thick smoke fills the vacant air between us.
"Do not move, Brie Northstar!" one of the officers yells, his weapon still raised. Why are they still treating me like a criminal?
Another officer moves out and around the lead, keeping the barrel of his gun directed towards me, moving step-by-careful-step. Behind him, a small squad of security in reflective armor and thick, dark flak vests, approach me as if I might be a living bomb ready to explode. Both hands come up, and I show my palms to them and take a careful step backwards.
"They were kidnapping me. I wasn't going of my own free will," I say. My voice sounds nervous and uncertain. I daresay it almost sounds guilty. Why? Was I starting to believe what the crazy reptile was telling me? What all of these crazy reptiles keep telling me? That I'm some kind of special creature? Some secret weapon? That would certainly explain some things, but it doesn't explain enough.
"Stand still," one of them says, moving closer.
I nod in agreement, but in my head, a whole scenario plays out. I can visualize the whole thing: move in left, forty-five degrees, stay low, sweep up, out of the line of fire. Put the guard between me and the rest, vault over his shoulders as purple plasma tears him apart. Land left of center hall. Two on the left go down with rapid neck-strikes, a third on the right with a knee-shattering kick. The last two would be the trickiest, but if I angle them right, they might shoot each other while trying to kill me.
What am I doing? My mind is playing tricks, showing me how to escape, and leading me down the path towards certain death. This same mind convinced me that jumping roof to roof in the middle of the night was a good idea and that there's something about Athelonians I shouldn't trust.
I force the vision down and away, trying to push it from my head and focus on other things, but my head starts swimming. My brain drops into a deep lake, floating and swirling, and my temples throb. With one trembling step backwards I realize I'm off balance and dizzy, so I turn around to try to get breathing room. The floor is rushing up to me in a rapid blur of metallic colored concrete. Already the corners of my vision are dimming as I stumble forward, and before I even hit the floor, blackness has consumed me.
Chapter Five
I break through the fog of unconsciousness, not so much with a sudden burst, but with a gradual, hand-over-hand crawl towards the surface of dark water, a sense of pre
ssing my face up into the sharp, bright light, and moment of drawing in a sweet tasting breath with a hint of flowers.
Vague shapes move around me as I swim up from the darkness, groping for a ledge to pull myself up with. All the while, the low murmur of voices creates an anchor to focus on, a sound that draws me up towards the clear break in the water.
"Brie?" the sound is a rippling grumble, an opaque collection of noises that resembles my name.
A hand presses to my shoulder as the world around me clarifies, twisting into sharpness like an out of focus monitor screen being adjusted.
"Brie?" the voice says again, but this time clearer. I blink, slapping my eyelids together as if that might splash away this dark water covering my vision. Over to my left, I see Weeda.
Good old Weeda. Her dark hair is trimmed short, just above her ears, and her faded lips are curled into a grin. Two of her four hands clutching my left shoulder. Over her head I see the familiar walls and ceiling of my bedroom, and that gentle perfume of flowers settles in around me. I'm back home.
I press myself upwards, but Weeda reaches over with her other two hands and eases my shoulder back down.
"Don't push it," she whispers. "You need to rest."
"Why?" I ask. "I feel okay."
"You collapsed," she answers. "There was an incident during your interrogation, and you collapsed."
"I remember," I reply. And I do. I collapsed because Adroxis Security were coming after me with their weapons raised and hate in their eyes. I was running from them. Can I tell Weeda that?
"You're awake," whispers another gentle voice, and I'm glad that I didn't share any of those details with my best friend.
I turn my head towards my mother as she strides across the floor, white dress billowing . . . white dress against white walls and white ceiling and white furniture . . . so much white . . . too much white. Everything is brightness, and the stark light of everything around me hurts my eyes.
Suddenly I'm relishing the thought of dimness and darkness, the peace of the murky water I crawled my way out of. I want to go back there.
