Dissonance: Aurora Renegades Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 5)

by G. S. Jennsen

  She squared her shoulders, instinctively reached out and grasped Caleb’s hand, and together they walked through the archway.

  A tiny Taenarin woman with skin as rugged as cured leather lounged on a cushioned chaise beside a cozy fire. Her enormous eyes were pure white, giving no inkling as to her sentiments in any hint of color.

  On seeing them, the Caomh leapt up from the chaise and motioned them inside with a vigorous wave. She tottered in front of the fire and sank cross-legged upon the large, plush tapestry taking up much of the floor space. “Come, come. Watch your heads—gods you are tall creatures!”

  Alex was taken aback, but Caleb gave her an unconcerned shrug and squatted on the ground.

  The elderly but surprisingly spry alien produced three bronzed mugs from somewhere behind her and poured a steaming liquid out of a decanter. She placed two of the cups between them as Alex sat next to Caleb, then took a sip of the third and set the mug down beside her.

  She regarded them with enthusiastic and intense scrutiny. Her eyes remained white, but she exuded dynamism from every other aspect of her presence.

  “You are Caleb, and you are Alex. The Iona-Cead told me this. You, Caleb—remarkably at ease and comfortable here. Observant and swift to adapt, I see. Useful skill. You, Alex—do not be anxious, my dear. I promise I don’t bite. And…well, it is no matter. The Iona-Cead tells me you visit us from the stars. Wonderful! I saw stars with my own sight three times in my life, all of them too long ago. But there are many stars in the Siopa—the Vault of Remembrance—so in my mind I see them still.”

  The alien paused to take a breath, but only a small one, before continuing. “The Taenarin call me Caomh, but you can call me Beshai. It has been so long since anyone did, I would truthfully enjoy it. Now. You climbed all the way up here for a reason. Tell me about it.”

  Alex was completely flummoxed by the Caomh’s vivacious and friendly demeanor. She blinked. “You’ll be able to understand us?”

  “Of course! The Iona-Cead took care of that troublesome little detail by sharing his memory of your language with me.”

  Caleb leaned forward. “It’s an honor to meet you, Beshai. Your people think and speak very highly of you. We’re…” his lips quirked around in a surely deliberately impish manner “…I guess you could say we’re on a quest of sorts. We think we may find some clues which will help us on our quest in the story of how the Taenarin came here from their home, which we believe was located far from here. The Iona-Cead said you possessed memories which could tell us that story.”

  The Caomh—Beshai—retrieved her mug and studied its contents. “The last of the old memories, the first of the new…the flock below, they have no care for these stories. They are contented. As it should be. It’s not healthy to dwell on the past, when only the future remains.”

  Alex spared a small smile to herself at that.

  Beshai eyed her as though she caught it and set the mug aside once more. “Yes, I have those. Understand, I cannot answer your questions about them. I can only show you the memories as they exist, and you must draw from them what wisdom you are able.”

  “Anything you can show us will be appreciated.”

  “Will it, now?” Beshai threw her an amused and vaguely challenging glance. “Please, enjoy your tea. I will return.” Her knees and elbows creaked as she worked herself up to standing then pattered off into the adjoining room. It was shadowy, but Alex made out rows upon rows of shelves stacked high in containers.

  Alex brought the mug to her lips and whispered, “She’s not what I expected.”

  Caleb looked rather smug, so she made a face at him. “You’re about to be insightful again, aren’t you?”

  He took a long sip of his tea. “Revered leaders’ public personas rarely match their private ones. Forced to play a role created without regard to who they are as individuals, most are desperate for real, genuine interaction, especially with anyone who might see the person behind the role.”

  “So I see….”

  Beshai reemerged from the shadows. The Caomh held an obsidian box in her long fingers. She set it on the floor before using both hands to ease herself back down. Once settled, she placed it in front of her.

  “It works like this. I absorb the memory, then I share it with you through touch. When we are done, I place the memory back in its receptacle.”

  Caleb nodded. “We understand. We’re in your care.”

  Translation: they didn’t understand in the slightest, but they would just go with it.

  “So. Pardon me for a spell.” Beshai opened the box and reached inside. Her long, gnarled fingers wound delicately around what resembled a crystal ball of old fantasy fables, though they couldn’t see it clearly as it remained ensconced in the box. The Caomh’s eyes closed, and the skin from her fingertips up her arms to her face began to shine a dusky gold. She remained this way for more than twenty seconds.

  When her eyes opened, they were a swirl of all conceivable colors, all at once. She carefully closed the box and set it aside; her movements were robotic, as if she were in a trance.

  “This is the recorded memory of Odhran Ahearne, Two Hundred Seventh Iona-Cead of the Taenarin, as he experienced the Exodus.” Her voice, too, was flat and devoid of inflection.

  She offered her hands to them.

  27

  TAENARIN

  UNKNOWN SPACE

  * * *

  WHEN THE ALIEN APPEARED TO ME in a rush of sparkling light, I considered if perhaps I had become insane. Overtaken by a fever at a minimum. I would have suspected poison, but I suffered few political enemies and none brave enough to act against me.

  When the lights spoke, not aloud but in my mind, I adopted psychosis as the likeliest explanation.

  The lights proclaimed the Taenarin were in grave danger, and we had little time remaining to flee. I expressed skepticism, which I thought an admirably rational act on my part when one took into account that I had clearly fallen into madness.

  The lights glittered and fussed, then took a moment to backtrack. They introduced themselves as ‘Lakhes,’ a member of the Katasketousya, one of many alien species they proclaimed lived across the universe—a universe extending far beyond our simple world.

  We had long wondered what might exist beyond the confines of our planet, generally as idle musings accompanied by the enjoyment of spirits. The idea of other species living out there among the stars we so rarely saw was plausible, undeniably—far more so than the actual, if incorporeal, alien presence floating in front of me.

  But I bore a responsibility as Iona-Cead to act with gravitas until they removed me from the post for mental instability. I demanded an explanation, details and evidence.

  This alien calling itself Lakhes—I accepted without believing its status as a single, discrete entity—indulged my brave demands. It explained that our world was rich in natural resources: ice, rock, minerals and organic materials. Those wielding the power to do such things intended to harvest it—plunder it, strip it—and claim those resources as their own.

  The answer was obvious to even my recently addled mind. Explain to these reapers that sapient beings called this planet home, and they therefore needed to find another planet to harvest!

  Lakhes quavered in silence for several long seconds, and the lights which comprised the being deflated and dimmed.

  They already know, it whispered in my mind. They do not care.

  The alien’s words stirred in me a deep, sickening terror. I blinked and turned away, wishing deeply this was a temporary fugue brought on by an overindulgence in spirits. Overseeing such a crisis lay beyond the duties any Iona-Cead had ever faced.

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  Lakhes assured me my people could be evacuated, whisked away to some other place where we would be safe. A place not unlike our home. We had only to flee in the alien’s starships, and soon.

  I protested. Though my people respected me, they would not pick up and leave their homes, their
livelihoods and everything they had ever known on my word alone, with no proof or reason to persuade.

  Following a brief contemplation, Lakhes agreed to show me what came for us. I hurriedly pointed out it would still be my word alone, and before the alien accomplished a protest I called the Iona-Lui into the room.

  Neave Fylan gasped and stammered and flared more colors than we had names for, but I grasped her hands firmly and urged her to be calm as the gleaming lights of my insanity engulfed us.

  We were on board a ship. I supposed it was a small ship, for the walls were close and there was only the one chamber. Having never been aboard a starship before, however, I couldn’t say for certain. It hardly mattered in any event, as I had more pressing concerns, such as breathing. Living.

  I had ventured above-ground four times in my life; such endeavors were required and expected of leaders. I’d stared up at the stars and felt tiny, insignificant in the face of what loomed beyond our shores. Then I’d stoically returned home, to my family, clan and people, enjoying greater respect for having completed the act.

  Now an infinite blackness of space spanned not solely above me but all around me. Where were the stars? I blinked until my vision no longer blurred. They were there, everywhere and uncountable, but no closer than when I’d viewed them from the ground.

  Neave touched my shoulder with trembling fingers and pointed.

  I turned and found our sun, large and shining closer than I’d ever seen. It should have provided comfort or at least orientation, but the gaping chasm of blackness all around promised to swallow me up in its vastness.

  This was not a place people who were born, lived and died in the womb of their world should be.

  How had we arrived here? An instant ago we stood in my public chamber, far beneath the surface of our planet. Now we were here, standing in space with none but tiny, thin, mostly glass walls holding us apart from the void.

  Yet as the horror of my surroundings threatened to finalize the disintegration of my reasoning mind, slowly, inexorably, my attention gravitated toward a congregation of ships. They were massive in size even when cast against the planet they hovered above.

  It was not our planet. I knew this from the fact it was not frozen, but instead green and lush. So much green, more than I had seen in the entirety of my life.

  The planet was being shredded, torn apart by mighty machines.

  “What is this you show us, Lakhes?”

  The alien replied that it was the fate of our home in a few short periods. To be sucked dry of nutrients. Of all life.

  “Why?”

  Because it is there to be taken.

  Our ship drew closer to one of the monstrous vessels, so close I began to panic anew. Lakhes claimed we were hidden, cloaked, invisible. It seemed impossible, if no less so than all I had experienced this day.

  We approached near enough to distinguish the vague forms of individual beings through a broad transparent wall stretching across one side of the vessel. They were tall, thick-torsoed creatures, with soft skin and tiny, round eyes. They gestured about at gleaming pictures and cryptic markings which floated in the air.

  My throat had gone dry from an excess of fear, dread and desperation. “Who are they?”

  Their species is known as Anaden, and they are Legion.

  I did not concern myself with their legions, only their presence here. “Are you certain they understand we live within our home? If they properly appreciated the fact they would be murdering millions….”

  Lakhes’ tone was forceful in my mind, insisting these aliens did not have a care for our well-being.

  They take what they need. When need isn’t present, they take what they want. All to satisfy their vision of perfect, universal order.

  The planet’s surface beneath us churned and buckled, torn asunder as the towering machines gorged on the greenery, lending truth to Lakhes’ words. I had seen enough.

  It was a good thing Iona-Lui Fylan had accompanied us, for none but my mates, and possibly not them, would have believed my tale if it were mine alone.

  Even then it was near thing, convincing the local leaders of the millions of us evacuation was required. That we must leave behind everything we had ever known, and we must do it now.

  The ships awaiting us on the frigid, icy surface seemed nearly as mammoth in size as those I’d witnessed ravaging the nearby planet. But these ships were here to rescue us.

  My people filed into their bellies, frightened, confused and weighted heavy with belongings. Other aliens of Lakhes’ ilk appeared to shepherd them along, terrifying the adults and delighting the children with their twinkling lights.

  The interior of the ships loomed solemn and dark, constructed of ominous black metal and streaked in frigid white light. I argued this was not a suitable environment for my people to live in, but the alien stated the trip was to be short.

  How could it be so, when our would-be destroyers loomed so close? Surely we were required to travel far to pass beyond their reach?

  But Lakhes and those of its kind had mastered an art so unfathomable as to be god-like. Not merely could their ships move faster than imagination, they had wrent holes in space itself, portals of an otherworldly nature which cut across distances unmeasurable. Our ships sailed through a gargantuan portal of vibrant blue, then two smaller ones of a warmer, soothing gold.

  At last we orbited above a planet indistinguishable from our own. Lakhes informed me it had been prepared for our arrival in every way, insisting we would be able to live below in safety and security. The alien promised to hide and protect us, should the destroyers of worlds ever come looking for us.

  “Why would they come looking for us?” I asked. “They have what they wanted—our planet and its resources.”

  The alien’s answer was a riddle, inexplicable to me. I put it out of my mind, for I now had many practical concerns to fill my waking and sleeping hours.

  All Lakhes’ promises were fulfilled. We found a land beneath the ground well suited to our needs, reminiscent of home in all but the most minute of details.

  Still, it was hard for us for a time. We had left behind everything, fled in a panic from forces of greater power than I could comprehend, in spite of having seen them with my own eyes.

  But we persevered, for the Taenarin are a hardy people. We made a new home; we carved our cities out of the rock and mined the ore and erected our homes and bore our children.

  We are content.

  28

  TAENARIN ARIS

  TAYNA PORTAL SPACE

  * * *

  ALEX SHOOK HER HEAD ROUGHLY as Beshai’s grasp fell away. She opened her eyes, blinking several times to quell lingering dizziness. “That was very…vivid.”

  “Yes.” Beshai reached inside the orb once more; they watched her transfer the memory back into the orb via a rush of color down her arms. The Caomh closed the box, stood and walked woodenly into the other room.

  Caleb’s voice murmured low at Alex’s ear. “Those ships they were evacuated in looked suspiciously like the Metigen superdreadnoughts.”

  “Not identical, but damn similar. And the portals—they came from the other side of the master portal.”

  Beshai came in before they could discuss it any further. Her previous vivacity had only partially returned to her step as she rejoined them on the tapestry. “Forgive me. The process is somewhat taxing on these old bones. Did you find the answers you seek?”

  “Mostly new questions—but yes, this was extremely helpful, thank you. One thing wasn’t in the memory that we were hoping to see. Can you tell us—do you know what ‘Amaranthe’ is?”

  “It is said Amaranthe is the place from which we came. Not our origin planet, but the place in which it resided. The realm, the universe, whatever word one wishes to use to conceive of the unconceivable. We did not call it this, for we knew of nothing beyond ourselves and our world.”

  She took a sip from her mug. “I’m afraid I have no more knowledge to offer yo
u. Please, enjoy the fullness of our hospitality this evening.” She paused. “Before you go, Alex, may I speak to you alone?”

  Surprised, she shrugged at Caleb. His brow had drawn inward, but he nodded and began climbing to his feet. “I’ll meet up with Jaisc and see how dinner is coming. Caomh Beshai, it was truly an honor to meet you.”

  Alex smiled and watched him leave, then turned to Beshai. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  The Caomh reached out her hands to hold Alex’s tightly. “Please. Some of what I want to express, it may be difficult to locate the right words.”

  “Of course.”

  Pure alabaster eyes stared back at her. “Child, there is a hole in your mind.”

  A hole? …Oh. She exhaled in relief. “I share a deep mental connection with another being—not a human, but a sapient all the same. Down here, I can’t contact her due to the protective shielding your Slanait keeps in place. I’m sure that’s what you’re sensing.”

  “Hmmm…yes, this feels correct. It must be a deep connection indeed. Is this a common relationship among your people?”

  “No. It’s rather new, and there are only a few of us who enjoy it.”

  “Do you enjoy it? It seems a great sacrifice.”

  “I did it in order to save my people—we were under attack from a dangerous enemy.” The realization that enemy was one and the same as the Taenarin’s saviors hit her a little hard. “But, no, it’s not a burden.”

  “Interesting.” Beshai released Alex’s hands and briefly traded them for her mug. “Perhaps joining with a distinctly separate entity did not prove too difficult for your people, given your synergistic arrangements with the ones inside you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The organism you and your companion have living in the pathways of your bodies. Since you both have the symbiote, I assumed it was widespread in your species. But I should stop assuming anything about you. After all, I know nothing of tall, eccentric beings who arrive here from the sky.”