Legend of Alm -The Valor Saga Pt 1 - Falling Star

by Graham M. Irwin

  “That’s alright,” Laquin said. “We won’t need it.”

  “But I can’t see a thing,” said Xala.

  “Just give it a second,” said Laquin.

  Almost as soon as she had spoken, a wave of purple light washed across the floor. A wash of blue chased after it, then another, of green.

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Mills.

  “What is that?” asked Anaxis.

  “Luminous algae,” answered Laquin. “It pulses with a rainbow of light every minute or so. We’ll wait for the next wave to proceed.”

  Soon, the purple wave began again and the spelunkers chased it as it changed to blue and green, across the rock floor. Just as they came to another tight squeeze that led into the next chamber, Orn jumped out from the dark.

  “Aah!” he growled.

  Mills was so horrified that he screamed and nearly fainted. Anaxis laughed.

  “Really funny, Orn,” Mills scolded. “I hope you’re real happy with yourself.”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Orn said. “Anyways. Come along.”

  The next chamber’s enormous size was discernable only from far-off drips of water echoing around the space.

  “Ready?” asked Orn.

  “Ready,” answered Laquin.

  “Ready for what?” asked Mills.

  There was a muted blasting noise, and with it a brief flash of illumination. In that flash, Orn could be seen by the others holding a cannon. From it flew a volley of colored beads, out into the darkness. The beads stuck where they hit across the expanse of the chamber, defining the rock pillars, pits, and walls where they stuck. The space was still incredibly dark, but the way through it was now at least vaguely discernable.

  “The algae from the first chamber don’t like this one, for some reason,” said Laquin. “So we have to use the glow beads. We’ve tried helping the algae spread, but it just won’t live in here. But that’s no problem, obviously.”

  “We’re nearly there now,” said Orn. “Stay low, and stay close! The trobs live in the next chamber.”

  “Trobs?” Mills asked.

  “Flying terrors,” Laquin answered.

  “Oh,” said Mills. “I like trobs better.”

  As the team entered the next chamber of the cave system, the noise of wings beating rapidly buzzed by their heads. The buzzing was accompanied by high-pitched screams from the animals, and the same from Mills.

  “That was terrible!” Mills sobbed when a large swarm had passed.

  “If you think they sounded scary, just be glad you didn’t see them,” said Laquin.

  “Hello!” Orn called out. “Talar! Hello!”

  There was a brief pause, and then a voice from the darkness answered back, “Hello! Orn? Is that you?”

  “Orn and Laquin, with guests!” Orn replied.

  A light went up from where the distant voice was calling.

  “Where have you been?” asked the man standing in the pool of light.

  “It’s a long story,” Orn answered. “Lower the bridge?”

  “Right away,” Talar answered.

  There was the clanking noise of machinery working, and then a bridge on chain link started to lower down from the cave ceiling. It hit the rocks on either side of a deep gorge with a loud, echoing clunk, and then the five travelers who had crossed the Stretch started their ways over it.

  On the other side, Talar shook the hands of the newcomers and gave hugs to Laquin and Orn.

  “Is Cine behind you?” he asked.

  “No…” said Laquin. “He didn’t make it.”

  The news seemed to hit Talar deeply, but he recovered quickly and nodded acceptance. “So it is. Come this way. We’ve been anxiously awaiting your return.”

  Through a short archway that necessitated ducking under, the group entered the largest chamber of the cave yet. There were many lights all around the huge space, blinking or beaming steadily, and in many different colors. Around some of these lights were crowded groups of people, working or talking. In the center of the space were visible three airships like the one Cine had crashed, and another such vehicle that sat on wheels. An underground river ran through the cave, crossed over by numerous bridges. There was a large mechanism along the banks of the river that looked to be a sort of holding tank, from which a network of tubes ran in and out. Beside this was a large kitchen area, with several long tables situated all around it. Talar led the newcomers back and forth over several of the bridges spanning the river until they reached the kitchen.

  “Please, sit,” he said. “I’m sure you’re all very hungry and thirsty.”

  “We are,” said Orn. “Thank you.”

  Talar went to the large tank that dominated the seating area and started to fill a ewer.

  “They’ve returned!” said a woman working at one of the stations perched up the cave wall.

  She and three others descended down a spiral staircase to where the team was drinking and starting to set into a bowl of food Talar put out for them.

  “Where’s Cine?” one of them asked.

  “He didn’t make it,” Talar answered.

  The man’s knees buckled and he fell down onto a bench. “Didn’t make it?”

  “I’m terribly sorry, Yin,” said Orn. “He saved our lives with his piloting, but there were three drones after us, and he wasn’t able to escape them all.”

  Yin didn’t seem like he was ready to accept Cine’s death.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Are you sure he’s dead? Perhaps if I were to conduct a survey mission, if I went back to the crash site…”

  “There’s no way he’s was alive,” said Laquin. “He was in the cockpit when it smashed into a rock fin. He was broken into pieces. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well we can’t just leave him out there,” Yin said. “We have to recover his body.”

  Another offered, “I will help you, if that is possible. But Cine wouldn’t want us to risk our lives or security for him.”

  “How am I supposed to go on without him?” Yin asked.

  “We are all here for you,” said Orn.

  Yin rose from his seat and walked slowly off into a dark recess.

  “It is certainly tragic that we have lost one of our greatest,” said Orn. “But it was not in vain. We accomplished our objective. We recovered the amulet from the fallen spacecraft.”

  “That is some good news,” said Shan, another of the greeting party. “Great news.”

  “And who are these newcomers to Haven?” asked Talar.

  “This is Xala, and Anaxis, and Mills,” said Laquin. “They themselves were investigating the crash when we were besieged by Gnirean’s drones. They are from the village of Talx, from the western desert.”

  “Welcome to Haven,” Shan said to them.

  “Thank you,” said Xala. “I must say, this place is most intriguing.”

  “And dark. Do you all live underground, all the time?” asked Mills.

  “For the most part,” said Talar.

  “What do you do down here?” asked Anaxis. “What are all these lights and machines?”

  “After you eat,” said Talar, “I’ll show you.”

  After a quick meal, Talar and Laquin led Anaxis, Mills, and Xala up through a long, steep stairwell from Haven’s main chamber. It opened into a vast, dimly-lit space.

  “Ready?” Laquin asked the newcomers.

  “Ready,” Anaxis answered.

  “Not if it’s going to be scary,” said Mills.

  Laquin threw a switch and the space was flooded with light. It defined a round room capped with a massive dome, one occupied almost entirely by a giant mechanism that sat in its center. The mechanism was comprised of tubes of various lengths and widths, all connected to a platform that sat on a circular base.

  “What is it?” Xala asked.

  “Our eye to the sky,” Laquin answered. “It’s a telescope. It’s how we knew of the crash in the desert.”

  “What’s a telescope?” asked Mi
lls.

  “It is a device that collects electromagnetic radiation,” answered Talar.

  “Visible light,” Laquin added. “This one is composed of mirrors that help to gather and focus the light beyond our planet. With it we can study the cosmos.”

  “Why?” asked Mills.

  “Haven’s entire reason for being is anticipating the return of our ancestors from Alm,” said Talar. “And it seems as if our waiting has finally been answered.”

  “This whole big thing is for that?” Mills asked.

  “Primarily,” answered Laquin. “Though we have also been able to study the movement of the stars with it as well. And to anticipate possible meteors or asteroids that might pose us threats, a lesson learned from our ancestors on Alm.”

  “We heard a bit about that,” said Anaxis. “About our ancestors being from another planet. So it’s true?”

  “Certainly,” answered Talar. “The people of Alm left their home many thousands of years ago to explore and colonize new planets, and that’s where the first humans to Valor came from.”

  “And they haven’t been back since? Not until now?” asked Xala.

  “No, for whatever reason,” answered Laquin. “We are hoping to find out why by studying the information we gathered from the crash in the desert.”

  “Fascinating,” said Xala. “Can I have a look, in the telescope?”

  “Of course,” Talar said. “You all can.”

  Xala stepped up to the viewing platform. Laquin manipulated some levers along the wall, and the dome of the room started to open.

  “Whoa!” Anaxis cried. “How’s it do that?”

  “Very carefully,” Talar answered. “And secretively. We’ll have drones from Gnirean coming by soon on their daily rounds, so we’ll have to be careful to close it back up before they get here.”

  “Can’t they recognize it from the outside?” asked Anaxis.

  “We’re very well camouflaged,” answered Laquin. “Go ahead, Xala, have your look. Quickly.”

  Xala put her face to the viewing apparatus.

  “It’s like I can see into eternity!” she said. “How far am I looking?”

  “Many light-years,” answered Laquin. “We’ve not reached an end to its sight, yet.”

  “What’s a light-year?” asked Mills.

  “That’s how far light can travel in a year,” answered Talar.

  “Light travels?” Mills asked.

  “It does,” answered Laquin. “So quickly that it’s hard to discern on Valor, but in studying the cosmos, we see light reaching us from very, very far away. In a way, looking at light that has travelled a long enough distance is like looking into the past. What we are seeing is only what has reached us at this point, not what is actually being emitted currently.”

  Mills looked overwhelmed for a brief moment, then shook his head.

  “That’s pretty crazy,” he said.

  “Can I look, Xala?” asked Anaxis.

  “Go ahead,” Xala said, stepping back from the viewing mask.

  “Here,” Laquin said, manipulating the levers to rotate the telescope into a new position. “Tell me what you think of that.”

  Anaxis put his face to the viewing mask and gasped. He saw a stunningly bright circle, reflected in such detail that he could make out spots and whip-like flares dancing around and across its surface.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “That’s our sun, Arum,” said Laquin.

  “It’s alive,” Anaxis said. “The sun is alive!”

  “It sure is,” said Talar. “A massive thermonuclear furnace churning in the cold void of space, keeping us warm and giving us light.”

  “It’s so beautiful…” Anaxis murmured as he continued to stare.

  “We can look again later,” Laquin said, “But the drones will be by soon. It will be best if we stop for now.”

  “Alright,” Anaxis said disappointedly.

  He stepped down from the viewing platform and Laquin closed the opening in the dome.

  “Shall we go see what Orn and the others have been able to discern from the information we obtained from the crash?” asked Laquin.

  “I’d love to know,” said Xala.

  “Me, too,” said Anaxis.

  “Hey, are we going to go home soon?” asked Mills.

  “Soon enough, Mills,” said Laquin. “Just hang in there a little longer.”

  Orn and a number of Haven’s other technicians were crowded around an information device back in the main chamber.

  “Any news?” Laquin asked him.

  “The picture of what happened is starting to come together,” Orn answered. “We’ve located a journal and a few historical documents on the crystal registry recovered from the crash site.”

  “What’s a crystal registry?” asked Mills.

  “It’s how information is stored,” Laquin answered. “The structure of the crystal allows it to be coded with an incredible amount of data.”

  “Oh,” said Mills. “Of course.”

  “So, first of all, the timeline is difficult,” continued Orn. “The years on Alm are much longer, as it has a longer orbit around the sun.”

  “How can a year be longer?” Mills asked.

  “Our planet spins around the sun faster than Alm does,” explained Orn. “So, for example, in the time it takes us to reach, say, twenty years of age, it takes someone on Alm approximately four times as long to reach the same age. If you base age on orbits around a sun. In any case, we have to do some math to figure out the timeline we’re dealing with.”

  “Oh,” said Mills. “So, does every planet have a different time it takes to orbit the sun?”

  “Most likely,” answered Orn. “From our studies, all of the planets in the Arum System do, anyways. In another solar system, it may be different.”

  “Here, this is what I was looking for,” announced one of the women working alongside Orn at the information device. “But it’s not what I expected.”

  “What do you have, Vuna?” asked Orn.

  “The spaceship that crashed was not sent directly from Alm,” said Vuna. “Apparently, that planet is besieged by catastrophic meteor strikes that come every thousand years, their time.”

  “Every thousand years, exactly?” Orn asked.

  “That’s how this reads,” said Vuna. “Apparently, there is a family of asteroids that move through our system that are in a direct impact loop with Alm every thousand years.”

  “That must be the Doliar Family,” offered one of the men in the room.

  “It could also be the Erta Family,” said another.

  “Either are a possibility,” said Vuna. “Apparently, there was an effort to stop one such destructive collision with Alm, during which spaceships were sent to plant explosives on the asteroids. The mission failed, but…”

  “What is it?” Laquin implored.

  “This is hard to believe,” Vuna said, reading the log on the display, “But, apparently the astronauts established a colony on one of the asteroids they were trying to destroy. When they were unable to complete their work, as apparently they didn’t have enough time, the colony remained, and continued in the asteroid family’s trajectory around the galaxy. And when that family came near enough to Valor, just recently, two volunteers went out on a ship to try and see if our planet might be habitable. But apparently, something went wrong, because they crashed to Valor.”

  “So the rest of them are still out there, spinning around the galaxy?” asked Orn.

  “Unless their asteroid collides with Alm during its next pass through Alm’s orbit,” answered Vuna.

  “I wonder if the people of Alm are doing anything to stop the collision,” said Laquin.

  “That would be good for them, but possibly mean death for those on the asteroid,” said Vuna.

  “How strange,” said Orn. “It makes me wonder what other mysteries are spinning around our galaxy?”

  “We’ve got confirmation on the amulet,” announced
another of the technicians working the information system.

  “And?” asked Orn.

  The technician answered, “It’s compatible with the mother ship.”

  The residents of Haven stopped and turned to one another in nervous anticipation.

  “That must mean something big,” Xala said, breaking the silence.

  “You’re right, it does,” said Laquin. “The first settlers of Valor came here in a massive spaceship, around which Gnirean was built. It still survives, deep beneath the core of the city. The amulet we recovered could, theoretically, turn the ship’s beacons on. Which hasn’t been done since the original amulet was destroyed by the third generation of Gnirean’s High Council.”

  “Why did they destroy it?” asked Xala.

  “To destroy the idea that we came from Alm completely,” answered Laquin.

  “Why would they want to do that?” asked Xala.

  “Because the people of Gnirean were unhappy with the High Council’s near-total control,” said Laquin. “They spoke of how the people of Alm would return one day to free them. Created a religion out of the idea. And the religion started to gain more traction in the hearts of the people than the elites were comfortable with, so they blocked off and buried the mothership, destroyed the amulet to access it, and burned down the peoples’ temples. Very few in Gnirean today remember this. They don’t need to. They have their automated servants, they’re protected from the outside world by their drones, they pay their taxes and stay obedient because they don’t know their true heritage. The High Council has them convinced they’re subservient by nature. But this amulet we’ve recovered could change everything.”

  “It could if there was any way to take it back in,” Vuna said with a sigh. “But there are none of us here that could make the journey.”

  “Aren’t there?” Orn asked, throwing a raised eyebrow toward where Xala, Anaxis, and Mills were standing.

  “We couldn’t ask these strangers to go on such a dangerous mission,” said Vuna. “The chance of success is near zero.”

  “What sort of mission are we talking about?” asked Anaxis.

  “Never mind,” said Laquin.

  “Tell him,” said Orn. “Let him decide.”

  “It’s impossible,” said Laquin. “To make it into the city, to locate the buried mothership, to plant the amulet. Who knows if the mothership would even be responsive?”