The Download

by R. E. Carr

  From beneath the moss of the tree roots a pair of snakelike cables emerged. Kei inched back from them, his eyes wide with horror. As if alive, the tendrils shot into Kei, piercing the skin on the back of his hand. Silvery veins burrowed through him until the sockets bored their way into his skull.

  “Please!” he begged. He roared in pain and lurched forward. “Please, Great Spirit, forgive me!”

  “Forgiveness is not an issue. We seek clarity,” the Serif-fan said.

  As Kei opened his eyes again, an inky-blue, metallic liquid coursed through them. “We understand,” he said.

  “Scanning foreign object in Gracow Station Airspace,” the Serif-fan said.

  Kei stared at the water of the pool as it began to glow. The object emerged from the cloud cover, crackling with lightning. The main bulk of it appeared to be a vast balloon-and-sail system. A floating ark of silver and blue drifted into view.

  “What is that?” Kei asked.

  “Unidentified flying object approaching,” was all the Serif-fan replied. “Massive energy readings detected.”

  “Machidonians!” Kei gasped. “Why are they not landing?”

  “We confirm multiple humanoid life-forms on board and one artificial construct. Hostile intent confirmed, a Class Eight energy weapon is currently powering.”

  “Saikain!” Kei cried.

  Kei watched helplessly as a bolt of lightning struck out from the two long rods on the bow of the air ship. He staggered. The pool reflected only bright white light.

  “Confirmed discharge of Class Eight energy weapon. Humanoid casualties on the ground—”

  “Saikain!” Kei screamed again, trying to rip the wires out of his body.

  “Sora-khar, the attacking vessel is on a direct course to our processing core. What is your command?”

  “My brother . . . ,” Kei said, sinking to his knees. “Saikain.”

  “Sora-khar, initiate defense systems?”

  “What? We must destroy that thing.”

  “Unable to comply. Please unlock the remaining seals to—”

  “What can you do?” Kei barked.

  “We can create an electromagnetic static field that may—”

  “Do something!” Kei cried.

  Jenn’s body sank deeper into the water as red energy crawled up and down her skin. Her back arched suddenly as she screamed a command into the very core of the palace tree. The image in the pool changed again.

  Outside, every leaf, branch, and twig of Gracow City began to glow with heavenly light. At the base of the Temple Tree, the council of shamans threw themselves on the ground. The explosion from the plains sent everyone hiding. Only Sotaka and his shamans dared face the Machidonian terror.

  The mysterious air ship drifted closer to the city, but the moment it touched the flickering lights from the forest, its own running lights began to short. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the Machidonian terror drifted back into the clouds.

 

  Kei slogged his way out of the control room, carrying the unconscious Serif-fan in his bloody hands. He didn’t stop until he forced his way to the main hall. The second he saw Sotaka, he let his worn body give way. The spider shaman managed to wedge himself between the pair and the floor.

  “Someone help me!” Sotaka cried.

  The rest of the shamans rushed forward and grabbed the unconscious heroes. Kei and Jenn were escorted rapidly to the first available chamber. Once comfortably settled there, Sotaka sent a runner for the Great Bear.

  Jenn came to a while later, clutching her throbbing head. She rubbed her arms and chest with a disgusted look on her face. “I feel sick,” she moaned.

  As she vomited, she noticed Kei whimpering beside her. Rivulets of blood streaked his dirty face. She wrapped her arm around him. “It’s OK. We’re alive,” she whispered. “We’re alive.”

 

  Jenn shuddered. She stared over the throng of survivors dressed all in brown, her eyes glazed over. Sotaka too wore the robes of death as he stood on the Palace Tree’s roots.

  “Save your tears for the fallen, my people, for until they are avenged, their souls need not be placated. Save your strength for the battle at hand and celebrate the lives of those warriors who did not flinch even as the dark-spawned Others attacked them with cowardice. Stand strong, and remember that the Beast Tribe will never cower to the infidels!” he cried. “The Great Bear stands guard over Gracow City, and he swears that every son, every mate, every father lost to the Machidonians will have their graves watered with their enemies’ blood!”

  A mix of roars, caws, and howls pierced the early morning sky. Under the still-twinkling leaves of the holy trees, Sotaka threw a lock of his own hair in the fire. From the sidelines, both Jenn and Kei took hold of a ceremonial knife, and threw their locks in as well. Kei roared once for his brother’s soul. Jenn choked back tears.

  “Saikain is gone,” Jenn sniffled. “And all those people—”

  “Do not dishonor their lives, Ji-ann. Until we avenge this tragedy they cannot hear us, and our tears are only wasted water,” Kei whispered in her ear.

  “I’m not a tribesman, Kei. I need to cry,” Jenn said.

  “Think of my brother, Ji-ann. Think of how he would hate to see you sad—ever. Then your tears will turn into war cries.”

  She leaned against his furry arm and blinked away her weeping. “I won’t dishonor you, Saikain. I promise. And I promise I’ll break all the seals, so I can shove every weapon in Gracow City down the Machidonians’ fucking throats!” Jenn cried, anger burning in her red eyes. She looked up at Kei. “I promise that I will help you avenge him,” she hissed. He blanched slightly at her words, but before he could explain why the Great Bear stepped out of the palace, holding his scepter high over his head. He stopped before Kei and dropped a coiled braid of hair into his son’s hand.

  “My first heir is dead, but another lives,” Matahk bellowed. “Kei Zhanfos holds the next place in the line of the Warlord. May he serve us well.”

  Sotaka left his place behind the fire and began walking among the crowd. The other shaman spoke as well, comforting those who could not fight their tears. Matahk took both Jenn and Kei’s hands and led them up the steps and into the palace. Kaschaka waited for them inside.

  “Prepare these two for their Joining. I want them out of the city by one dawn after that. We cannot afford to give the Machidonians any more time than necessary,” Matahk ordered.

  “Yes, My Warlord,” Kaschaka said.

  Jenn didn’t fidget as Kaschaka bathed and dressed her. The next twenty-four hours passed in a daze as Jenn moved from one ritual to the next. This time, as she looked in the mirror and saw her dressed-up reflection, all it did was bring tears to her eyes.

  At sunset the following night, the seasons officially changed. Jenn joined a candlelit precession into the upper gardens of the Palace Tree. She picked at her veil of flowers and her dress braided around her from a single swath of fabric. Winowa walked a few steps behind her, holding her train.

  “Your dress will come undone if you keep at that,” Kaschaka hissed in her ear.

  “Just breathe, Serif-fan,” Winowa whispered to the nervous bride.

  Jenn nodded quickly, but her feet slowed. She could barely see Sotaka’s veil through her own. Winowa pulled the cloak off Jenn’s shoulders, revealing her wedding gown for all to see.

  Several of the onlookers gasped at the delicate pattern of braided silk. The moonlight shone brilliantly against the gown and her pearl-dusted skin. The Serif-fan looked down at the stunning white corset she wore and the hand-embroidered skirt that fell all around her. She fought back a sob.

  Winowa slipped back into the crowd, choking back tears of her own.

  From the other side of the garden, a full contingent of palace guards walked the Great Bear into the center of the clearing. The old war leader settled onto his throne.

  �
��Bring out my son, and let the Joining commence,” The Great Bear bellowed.

  The crowd’s chattering fell deathly silent as a new drumbeat came from the rear of the garden. Moments later, a tall, lanky form stood eerily still in the dim archway. Jenn turned to watch the Sora-khar step gingerly forward in his loose white robe and reed veil. His sure, catlike steps didn’t fail him as he traversed the uneven path. Once beside Jenn, guardsmen yanked the Sora-khar’s covering off.

  The guests gasped collectively as the wind ruffled the fur on Kei’s unbound arm. A fine black tunic had replaced his tattered old vest. Someone had even found a way to smooth his growing-out silver hair. Kei bowed his head. He let out a barely audible hiss before taking his final step forward into the ring of candlelight around the altar. A long pause later, Jenn took the final step as well.

  They kneeled before Sotaka as they waited for the Holy Moon to appear completely in the sky. Sotaka placed a silver knife on the altar.

  “The spirits have spoken. All the spirits—those of the land, the sea, and the air—are in unison. We come here on this most holy of nights to join a man and a woman, a Serif-fan and a Sora-khar, into one complete being. After tonight, the spirits will call them one, and so shall we,” Sotaka said as the moon finally crested the trees. “Rise, Ji-ann the Serif-fan, hope of our people and answer to our prayers. Look beside you and tell us if this is the man you have chosen.”

  Jenn gulped. All eyes locked on her.

  “I chose him,” Jenn said softly, still not looking at Kei.

  “Rise, Kei Zhanfos, Son of the Great Bear. Look beside you and tell us if this is the woman you have chosen.”

  “I chose her,” Kei whispered, not looking her way either.

  Sotaka slowly unraveled the couple’s self-braids and cut a lock from each of them. He then plaited Kei’s hair into Jenn’s and vice versa. Finally, he took Jenn’s hand and set it into Kei’s. She stared at his three fingers and stumbled slightly.

  “As part of this bond, you must confess to each other one truth never uttered to anyone else. As part of this bond, you must both make a vow unto each other. As part of this bond, you must share body and blood. Do you both agree?” Sotaka asked.

  “I agree,” both Jenn and Kei muttered.

  “There is no more Ji-ann. There is no more Kei Zhanfos,” Sotaka said. He lifted Kei’s veil first.

  “There is no more Ji-ann. There is no more Kei Zhanfos,” Kei repeated.

  Sotaka then lifted Jenn’s veil. “There is no more Ji-ann. There is no more Kei Zhanfos,” she choked out.

  She finally stared into Kei’s alien eyes. In the moonlight, his gray skin seemed bleached, white. Jenn froze. Kei too stared at his bride in the moonlight. He watched in awe at how her red hair glowed softly as it blew in the faint breeze. Sotaka finally nudged both Jenn and Kei on their shoulders.

  Slowly, Kei leaned toward her. His teeth chattered and his hands shook.

  “Finish,” Sotaka hissed.

  Kei leaned over and sunk his teeth into the back of Jenn’s neck. The Serif-fan bit her own lip to avoid crying out in pain. Kei pulled back and tilted his head to the side. Jenn then leaned over, picked up the knife, and made a small cut behind his ear. Gagging, she sucked up some of the blood welling on his skin. She felt Kei’s hands on her neck, lifting her chin. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop a grimace from forming on her face as Kei pressed his lips roughly against hers and shoved his bloody tongue in her mouth. She drove her clenched fists against her side as she felt him hold her. A few red drops fell to stain her dress.

  “I now pronounce this pair joined for life. Any who stand to part them shall face the wrath of the Lost God. Ji-ann, Kei, unite with the blessings of all the tribe,” Sotaka said.

  Kei led Jenn back down the path. Their honeymoon suite sat in the upper branches, close to where the Great Bear himself would rest that night. House servants hooted and cried as the couple passed, turning both of them bright red. “It is tradition,” Kei whispered in her ear.

  “I don’t want to know,” she whispered back.

  The guards outside their new room also howled at the couple’s passing. Kei wasted no time dropping the tarp behind them. He stopped short when he saw the single pile of pelts in the middle of the room.

  “I do not know if I can do this,” he said, pulling the veil from his head.

  “Kei. Um, I—”

  Jenn retreated into a corner. She tried not to look as Kei untied the laces across his chest. The tunic slipped off his shoulders. Jenn winced.

  “CALA, can you get me through this?”

  “I can stimulate certain areas of your brain. The consumption of alcohol might also be advised.”

  “Pro tip, CALA. Really.”

  Jenn started searching the room. Sure enough, she found a jug of the Beast Tribe’s patented home brew. “They think ahead,” Jenn muttered. After a few swigs from the clay jar, she turned to face Kei.

  The liquor caught in her throat as she saw the muscles cut into his arms and stomach. He took a few tentative steps toward her. She tried not to watch the way the sinews on his body stood out in the bizarre light.

  “Kei . . .”

  He pointed to the jug. “Can I have some of that?”

  Jenn tossed it to him. “Hey, Kei. No one has to know.”

  “The spirits are watching us, Ji-ann,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “It is strange. I have never done this before, Ji-ann.”

  Jenn stared at him in utter disbelief. “How old are you?”

  “Forty-three seasons.”

  “That’s almost twenty-two years, and you’ve never—”

  “Never,” he replied flatly.

  Jenn shivered as he pulled the edge of the fabric so deftly tucked between her breasts. The red stains shone in the moonlight. His claws traced a path along her shoulders. He then leaned around and kissed her neck, this time not breaking the skin.

  “Are you afraid of me?” he whispered in her ear.

  “I’m not—I’m not afraid of you.”

  He began pulling down her hair. With the lightest of touches, he ran the back of his hand along her face. “I swear I do not want to hurt you. Please . . .” His own voice caught. “My brother . . . Ji-ann, please believe me . . .”

  Jenn sniffled but handed him the loose bit of silk. “Kei, don’t talk,” she said as she twirled to let him unwrap her like a present. Kei’s eyes widened as he saw her bare chest. “Can you figure out what to do now?” she said, slinking back onto the pelts.

  Kei took a moment to recover. Jenn ended up guiding him down on top of her. “This is for tonight only,” she whispered.

  Shaking and unsure, the new heir sank down on top of her and began taking off the rest of her dress. Jenn finally found the resolve to kiss him.

  Jenn closed her eyes as the final joining began. Tears streaming down her face, she refused to look at him. It ended mercifully quickly.

  “I am . . . sorry, Ji-ann,” Kei said as he curled up beside her.

  Jenn allowed him to wrap his arms around her. “It’s all right,” she said, burying her head against his chest. “Somehow, it will be all right.”

 

  Introductions

 

  Eon kept its head pressed against its knees as its cage came to rest in front of the Machidonian transport. The sleek silver craft reflected the deep greens of the Western Jungle. The Phantom’s handlers kept their dark eyes locked on the ship while the sole priest made certain that all of Eon’s chains remained firmly imbedded in the Phantom’s flesh.

  Two armored figures stepped into view. The first, the shorter of the two, had covered himself head to toe in black riot gear and a mirrored visor, while the second figure had no compunctions about revealing himself. The moment he stepped into the sun, the larger visitor pulled off his helmet and bowed. The Westerners gasped as they saw rich, coffee-colored skin and smoky green eyes.

  “That is
no Machidonian,” the lead Westerner muttered.

  Eon rolled its head toward the strangers. The other black-robed Phantoms in its cage began to chatter their teeth and cover their ears, but Eon remained deathly calm—focusing its blank stare on the alien armor.

  The dark-skinned man smiled and bowed deeper. “It is a pleasure doing business with you, our Western friends. We are Farris Adair, son of Agravain, heir apparent of Hektor, and Knight of the Howling March. Let’s talk terms.”

  The head of the Western procession looked back at his cage of freaks. “What purpose does a legend such as you have with our worthless kind? We are but lowly servants . . .”

  Farris raised a brow. “Our ancestors remember a day when the Western Tribes were not simpering cowards. What has changed in six hundred years?”

  The Phantom’s guardian-priest flinched. He looked over to the guardsmen of the caravan, whispering in his native tongue, “This is bad. This Knight has an old Legacy in his mind . . .”

  Farris smiled. “And we know your language, so you might as well speak clearly so everyone can hear,” the Knight sighed. “We are very busy, my friends. We suggest we get on with the deal.”

  The head of the Western caravan stepped forward again and dropped to his knees. All but the priest followed in turn, their feathered headdresses scraping the soft soil. “As we have said, great Knight, we of the West are your eternal servants. What business could you possibly have with us?”

  “We need a Phantom. As a matter of fact, we need the most impressive Phantom in your stable. We require the services of Eon,” Farris said as he eyed the cage.

  The leader of the caravan looked up at last. “You wish for Eon? You must understand that it is most expensive, even for a Knight such as yourself, to use the services of the empress’s assassin.”

  Farris snapped his fingers and a swarm of small, gray-clad people poured from the ship carrying boxes upon boxes laden with steel and silver. The Western leader surveyed the spread and nodded.