by Isaac Hooke
S’Wraathar lay before Tane in a quivering, ugly mass. While he may have been playacting before when his Dark Essence field went down, S’Wraathar was plainly beaten now. A bloody, tired mess, incapable of lifting another limb in defense.
“Please,” S’Wraathar said through the voice box. “Don’t kill me.” Like G’allanthamas, his words were sourced from different human speakers, with dialects that didn’t match.
But Tane hardly heard. He lifted his Essence ax coldly.
Jed leaped to his side. The Volur’s shield flashed into existence as he took a blast from one of the other aliens that was meant for Tane; with his glowing pistol, Jed returned fire at the source. “If you’re going to kill him, then kill him!”
“Please,” S’Wraathar said. He clenched his bifurcated mandibles.
Inexplicably, Tane hesitated. Why was he feeling pity? This was the creature who had taken Sinive’s life. If any being in this universe deserved death, it was S’Wraathar.
Tane thought of all the people he had personally killed on Xalantas after he’d lost control. None of them deserved to die. They were members of the TSN. Good men and women. Merely following their orders. They had no chance given the powers he was wielding at the time, and yet he hadn’t batted an eye when he had killed them. And what of the civilians hiding in the buildings he had razed? He hadn’t felt remorse for any of them.
And yet he hesitated now.
He wanted to do it so badly. He had imagined that when the time came, S’Wraathar would be taunting him, daring him to do the deed. But he had never imagined this, that the proud alien would be begging for his life.
Tane simply couldn’t do it. Not even to the worst of his enemies. No matter how much S’Wraathar deserved an ignoble death.
He remembered Lyra’s words during the journey here, when he had told her how much he wanted vengeance against the dwellers.
Killing them won’t bring her back. In fact, you’re doing the only thing that will bring her back.
And yet it was Lyra whose words egged him on next. What she said truly shocked him, given how at odds it was to her previous comments, and her personality in general.
“Do it!” Lyra said. “Show no mercy!”
10
Tane almost cut off that grotesque, bloody head at Lyra’s prompting. Almost, because he hadn’t realized how much the Volur’s approval still meant to him, even after everything. She was his mentor, like Jed. Someone to look up to. Someone to be obeyed.
Instead, he stepped back and lowered the beam hilt. He prepared to step out of the Essence to release the White blade.
“That one killed my sister!” Lyra said. “Destroy it!”
The words stunned him to the core, and rage once more replaced any pity he felt. Lyra’s sister. Sinive. S’Wraathar definitely deserved to die.
“Please,” S’Wraathar said. “Forgive me.” His tentacles lowered and folded together, and his head tilted far forward: it was the dweller equivalent of submission. “I’ll change. I will! We all deserve a second chance!”
Those words struck a chord inside Tane. Lucky for the dweller that he had only just been talking about such things with Nebb.
All anger left Tane, replaced by a weariness that seemed like it would bow his shoulders for all eternity. And it wasn’t a weariness rooted in Essence alone, but rather the burdens of being human, and everything that came with it: Mercy. Empathy. Second chances.
Tane stepped out of the Essence and the White ax disappeared.
Everything seemed to happen all at once then.
“Fool!” S’Wraathar moved in a blur. He kicked out one foot: Jed, who had still been standing beside Tane, was sent sprawling backward. A black pole-ax exploded forth, sourced from a beam hilt stealthily retrieved either from the ground or somewhere else on the dweller’s person, the deadly blade on a collision course with Tane’s chest assembly.
Tane knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time, or deflect it.
He frantically stepped into the Essence, hoping to find the strength to create an Essence Missile or something else that might stop the weapon, but he knew it was futile. Ordinary Essenceworks passed right through the energy blades created by beam hilts. The best he could hope for was that he might succeed in killing S’Wraathar, too.
But the Essence refused to let him step inside.
Tane was the only one who would die today.
Maybe it was for the best.
He’d join Sinive.
But an instant before the weapon struck, glowing green vines wrapped around the tentacle that wielded the beam hilt and arrested its motion.
S’Wraathar paused, twisting his sideways-oriented head in confusion.
Sparks, like those that emerged from Tane’s body, erupted from the vines all around him. Those sparks were connected to the large bone in the center of the clearing. He had the impression the sparks were coming from the bone, rather than the other way around.
More vines arose, wrapping around S’Wraathar. The alien screeched some wild, unintelligible command, and the dwellers that remained in cover fired their energy launchers at the vines, and the bone segment. The bolts tore easily through the vines, but more always arose to replace them. And the launchers did no damage at all to the gray osseous at the center of the clearing.
The vines kept rising, and emerald sparks continued to flow from the bone, suffusing the vines, and Tane. He felt a strange, heightened sense of well being and pleasure.
In moments S’Wraathar was completely wrapped up by the plants, as were the other Amaranth. The vines crept right through the Dark Essence fields that sheathed them, penetrating the liquid hydrocarbon environments to ensnare the alien limbs within. Those environments remained intact despite the violation—S’Wraathar alone among the Amaranth had no Essence field.
The glowing plants also wrapped around the arms and legs of the members in Tane’s party. The vines enveloped their jaws, preventing them from talking. But they could still breathe.
Only Tane himself remained completely free.
The bound individuals on both sides struggled against their binds, but they could not break away from the living trammels.
One of the vines lifted the pistol Jed had dropped. It carried the weapon toward Tane, with the muzzle facing away from him. The glowing limb held the pistol there in front of him, seeming expectant. Tane extended a hand: the vine deposited it in his gloved palm, and then beckoned toward S’Wraathar, inviting him to kill the alien.
Tane considered doing just that, as payment for S’Wraathar’s latest treachery. He aimed the weapon at the alien and wrapped his finger around the trigger. He wanted to squeeze. He had given S’Wraathar his second chance after all, and the alien had betrayed him. He realized that there were no second chances for a creature like S’Wraathar.
But Tane let the weapon drop.
“I have no interest in killing this alien,” Tane announced to whoever was watching and orchestrating all of this. He glanced at Sinive’s body, where she lay on the ground untouched nearby. At least the vines had the courtesy not to defile her body by handling her. Unlike S’Wraathar.
“It won’t bring her back,” Tane said. “Maybe nothing can. It is rumored the archaeoceti have a way. This is why I’m here. You are one of the archaeoceti, presumably? And this is some test on your part?”
He waited, but received no answer. He wasn’t sure if the vines could even understand him. Probably not. He remembered that the language in Tiberius’ day was vastly different from today’s. The memories Tiberius had given him had somehow activated the appropriate portions of his mind so that Tane could understand. He hoped the archaeoceti could do something similar. They were advanced enough to evolve into a higher state, after all, a state that allowed them to leave behind their home universe—Tane’s universe—entirely.
He tried an ID on the vines, but of course he got nothing.
As he waited for something to happen, S’Wraathar slumped in the vines that held
him, and made a gurgling sound. The alien was finally succumbing to the effects of exposure to this atmosphere.
But then the Dark Essence field appeared around S’Wraathar a moment later, with the liquid hydrocarbons he needed inside, and the gills lining his head relaxed. The alien remained slumped, however. Perhaps unconscious.
Tane cast his gaze across the other Amaranth. No doubt one of them had saved S’Wraathar. A loyal minion.
Tane stepped back as the glowing vines just in front of him began to rise. Good. Finally some response from these archaeoceti, or whatever entity this was.
The vines began to take on a humanoid shape. Female features formed, sensual in shape, and allure. Breasts. Hips. Facial features and hair. Skin appeared over those vines, along with robes, so that it seemed a human woman stood before him. She still glowed, however.
Her face portrayed a classic beauty: high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, a button nose, plump lips. Long, flowing black hair
“Welcome, Qumolongmar,” a female voice said. It oozed sensuality. “He Who Crosses Life and Death. Wearer of the Bone Crown. Death Walker.”
Tane studied the vine woman suspiciously. Yes, even though she appeared human, he purposely thought of her as the vine woman to remind himself that she was not. Then again, that iridescent glow was probably all the reminder needed. As usual, his ID returned nothing.
He glanced uncertainly at his companions and the Amaranth bound nearby, conscious that they were all within earshot. Did he really want the dwellers to hear this?
The vine woman recognized his concern immediately. “They can’t hear us. Their auditory equivalents are suffused with white noise at the moment.”
He positioned his body so that the vine woman blocked him from view of the others. He didn’t want anyone reviewing any videos recorded by their chips and employing lip reading algorithms to reverse engineer what he said. What happened here today was between him and the archaeoceti. If he chose to reveal the knowledge to his friends later, that would be his prerogative, but he definitely didn’t want the Amaranth to hear.
“So, you give me all these fancy names, yet you have no idea who I am,” Tane said.
She smiled patiently. “You have the Ability inside of you. The Khaeota does not lie.” She beckoned toward the sparks streaming from his body toward the bone. “No others of your kind have this. Nor do those of the Dark.”
“All right, you got me,” Tane said. “Then to whom do I address?”
She remained silent.
“You’ve taken on a human shape, and yet you are not human...” Tane told the iridescent being, in an attempt to get her to talk.
“A form you are comfortable with,” the woman said. “Something you can understand. I am Tepethalean. An archaeoceti, as you call us. I have watched you closely since your arrival. I was hoping I would not be the one to speak with you, hoping that the duty would fall to another, but there are no others left in this particular province. We once numbered billions. Now, we are under a million, scattered throughout this region of space. We have waited for you since the last with your abilities arrived. Waited in dread and anticipation. And now that you have come, the universe very much needs you, that much is clear. We will keep our promise to He Who Came Before.”
“How does the universe ‘need’ me?” Tane said.
She didn’t answer.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Tane said. “As I told you earlier, I’m here to save the woman I brought with me. That’s the only thing I care about right now. Can you revive her?”
The glowing being cocked an eyebrow. “I can do more than that. I can give you the means to do the reviving yourself. That you would show mercy to your most hated enemy, the one who took away that which you love most, proves that you are worthy of our greatest gift.”
Tane frowned. “Show mercy... you arranged all of this, didn’t you? So that the dweller and I would fight. This was all some twisted test on your part?”
“I allowed him to enter my domain and pursue you, yes,” the woman said. “Once the two of you set foot in my territory, I could have stopped you at any time. The other archaeoceti and I argued for centuries on how we would properly test your worthiness, but none of us could have devised a better assessment of your character than the scenario that played out before me. Yes, this was a test. And you passed. Spectacularly.”
Tane wondered if he would have passed the test if Tepethalean had seen what he had done in the immediate aftermath of Sinive’s death. Probably not.
“That you have shown mercy to your enemy is not the only quality that proves you are worthy of our powers,” the woman continued. “I’ve been watching you since you entered this realm. You’re willing to place the life of another ahead of your own. Or the potential for life, in any case, seeing as the one you protected is already dead. I saw you fighting for her when the storm came. The willingness to sacrifice the self is a quality you must have if you are to lead the fight to save our universe.”
Again Tepethalean only had it half right. He was willing to sacrifice himself for Sinive, yes, but not necessarily anyone else.
But he wasn’t about to tell her that, so instead he said: “I don’t want to lead.” Which was true enough.
“But lead you must,” the woman said.
Tane shook his head. “When I save her, the two of us will go into hiding somewhere on the far side of the galaxy. Or even another galaxy would be preferable.”
“You pretend to be selfish,” the woman said. “And yet here you are, braving death, braving the odds at all costs. Your false facade does not mask the true self I see inside.”
11
Tane bit back a caustic reply. He had to be careful how much he revealed about himself, lest she refuse to grant him the power he sought. Let her think he was her fabled Qumolongmar, and all the mystical qualities she associated with it. If she believed he left a trail of flower petals wherever his feet touched the ground, all the better, as long as it meant he could have Sinive back. Tepethalean would be sorely disappointed at some point when she realized the truth, but by then, Tane would be far away from this place.
She was staring at him with those piercing blue eyes, so he asked another question that was on his mind.
“What about those ghosts we fought?” Tane asked. “Part of your test, too? To delay my team so you could arrange the fight between S’Wraathar and me? Or something you did just so you could explore my willingness to sacrifice myself, as you described it.”
“No, those ‘ghosts’ are the very scourge of my people,” Tepethalean said. “Responsible for the drastic drop in our numbers. We call them the Malediction.”
“The Malediction?” Tane said. “They’re native to this universe?”
“They are no more native than we are,” Tepethalean said. “But some of us believe that by migrating here, we opened the way for the Malediction to follow: we left a trail that was visible to those that knew what to look for. In any case, we lived in tranquility for a hundred years. Lived and prospered. But then they arrived…”
The vine woman shook her head. “We came here seeking peace. Instead we found war. For the Malediction wanted this universe, and its Essence, all to themselves. They attacked not only us, but the native life of this universe, wiping out many species. They are a plague, taking rather than giving, leeching energy from everything they touch. They have spread to nearly every planet. We’ve waged war against them for centuries. And we are losing. Their rise mirrors that of the Gravity Heathens.”
Tane regarded her uncertainly. “The Gravity Heathens? That sounds similar to another race I’ve heard of…”
Tepethalean nodded. “The Dark Dwellers call them Z’Antamaraan: the Gravity Born. Other species that feed on gravity and pure energy, such as the Malediction, have prospered with their rise. The same clan of Z’Antamaraan exist simultaneously throughout all galactic cores spread across our home universe. They are drawing the suns of every galaxy into their respective cores, expandin
g the super massive black holes that sit at their centers. We don’t know why. We have speculated that they come from a higher universe, and perhaps seek to absorb the energy of our universe into their own. But we don’t know for certain: like the Malediction, their reasoning is impossible to truly fathom. We can’t communicate with them, let alone understand their alien mindsets.
“We originally left our home universe to escape not just the threat of the dwellers, but the Gravity Heathens. There are some among us that want to go back, now that we’ve led the Malediction here. But we would merely be buying ourselves time. All too soon, our home universe will be gone, thanks to the Heathens. And we’ve realized now that our original flight from our universe was perhaps pointless. Understand: even if we stay here, because we are from the same universe as you, we will die if our universe dies. Unless you can defeat the Gravity Heathens, Wearer of the Bone Crown.”
“Look,” Tane said. “I’m not who you think I am. Prophecies are all fake, you know that by now, don’t you? No one can predict the future. Even Tiberius—He Who Came Before—admitted to me in one of his memories that he knew it was inevitable another person like him would eventually be born, as long as we humans continued to mate the old fashioned way. It’s how natural selection works among my kind. You know, gene polymorphism and mutation, all that fun stuff. But that was the extent of his ‘prophecy.’ He knew his words would be twisted and transformed down the ages into something unrecognizable. We all like to believe that someone will come and save us all. It’s a great fantasy. But most of the time, the only person we can count on to do the saving is ourselves.”
He realized as the words left his lips that he may have said too much. He was supposed to be doing whatever he could to convince the archaeoceti to give him the power to raise Sinive. He hoped he hadn’t ruined things.
The glowing woman looked at him speculatively. “You say that the only person you can count on to save you is yourself, and yet you are here to save another.”
