by S. W. Ahmed
Sharjam froze. Soon he could make out the creature’s ugly head, its tentacles sticking out in preparation for attack. They had disturbed its peace, and now they would pay the price. As expected, other Roxays had heeded its call, and were soon following behind it.
“Sharjam!” Dumyan yelled. “A hupee plant, quick!”
Sharjam stared at the approaching Roxays. “I… I cannot concentrate,” he stammered. Any enchantment required acute concentration, and he was too overtaken with fear at the moment to concentrate.
“Then run!”
“Not with you in this state.”
Sharjam took out his boryal weapon, and without hesitation pointed it upwards and fired. A red flame shot up, heading straight for the sky at first, but then curving downwards like a projectile towards the nearest Roxay. The creature, which was now only a few feet away from the Aftarans, was hit by the flame just before it reached them. There was a loud explosion, followed by pieces of the creature flying off in every direction. Sharjam had to duck to avoid being hit by some of the body parts.
Dumyan’s face was filled with fear. “You sure that was a good idea?”
As soon as the other Roxays further behind saw what had happened, they screeched even louder, doubling their speed for attack. Now there would be no mercy whatsoever, if there had been any possibility for mercy before.
“There was no choice,” Sharjam replied. He put his boryal inside his robe, and slipped both his hands under his brother’s injured body. He lifted him up onto his back and stood up, almost losing his balance on the steep slope.
Dumyan yelled in pain. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Sharjam was panting, making a dash down the slope as fast as he could.
Dumyan held on to Sharjam’s shoulders with all his strength. “Leave me here!” he insisted. “I’m slowing you down! We’ll both get killed like this.”
Sharjam didn’t respond, focusing on the wet, slippery trail in front of him instead. He was counting on the one redeeming feature of this planet to keep them alive, at least for a while longer – the fact that it was almost completely covered by water. Roxays couldn’t swim, as far as he knew, and they most likely wouldn’t venture into the ocean after them. If he could only make it in time!
The Roxays were catching up fast, flapping their wings to fly down the slope. Sharjam almost fell a few times, but his instinct for survival just kept him going.
“You have got to go faster!” Dumyan shouted.
“You want to switch places?” Sharjam gasped, almost completely out of breath.
The sound of the ocean’s waves was getting louder over the constant noise of the raindrops. Ahead, Sharjam could just make out the coastline. But as he got closer, he realized it wasn’t really a coastline – it was a cliff, with a sharp drop to the ocean below. He thought of using his wings, but realized he wouldn’t be able to with Dumyan on his back.
“Hold on tight!” Sharjam shouted. With that, he sped up and leaped off the edge of the cliff.
At the same time, the nearest Roxay made a lunge for them with its tentacles, but missed them by inches. It was about to strike again, but once it saw its prey falling into the ocean below, abruptly stopped. Flapping its wings and letting out an ear-piercing screech, it lifted into the air. The other Roxays further behind also followed suit.
After a drop of over 60 feet, the Aftarans splashed into the water with full force. The impact wasn’t as much of a shock as Sharjam had expected, perhaps because being in such drenching rain was almost like being underwater anyway. Nonetheless, it was still a shock.
“Haaaaaaaahhhhh!” Dumyan shrieked. “It’s cold!”
“Yes!” Sharjam exclaimed in between gulps of water. “But at least… glub… there are no… glub… Roxays here!”
With Dumyan still on his back, Sharjam tried swimming away from the volcano island, hoping to increase their distance from the Roxays. But he was very weak, and the ocean very stormy. Towering waves crashed onto them, one after the other. Before long, he couldn’t find any more strength to move his arms or legs. He let go of Dumyan and motioned to him to take over, but Dumyan wasn’t able to swim for more than a few feet before the pain in his hip became unbearable.
They were both stranded, and as the strength in their limbs completely subsided, they began sinking underwater. With their magical robes wrapped around their mouths and noses, they wouldn’t have to worry about breathing underwater, at least for some time. But what hope did they have of surviving, let alone continuing their quest, once they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean?
As the two brothers helplessly descended into the depths of the sea, Sharjam could see different kinds of marine life around him – fishlike creatures of various shapes, sizes and colors. Most of these creatures seemed not to notice the two new strangers. But suddenly they all swam away, as if in fright.
Soon it became clear why. A large shadow was approaching from the distance – a sea monster of some kind. It looked ugly and big, uglier and bigger than a Roxay. One gigantic eye covered the top of its face, and huge, sharp teeth gleamed inside its open mouth. Its body appeared to be snake-like, stretching for many feet behind the head. And it seemed to have identified its meal for the day.
Sharjam instinctively took out his boryal, before remembering that boryals didn’t work well underwater. He stared at the approaching sea monster, its mouth large enough to engulf both of them in one sweep. He desperately tried to think of an enchantment that would save them, but knew he wouldn’t have enough time to concentrate. This time, he thought, their lives really were over.
But then, a wave from the right suddenly swept the sea monster away from them with tremendous force. The monster thrashed about, trying to fight back. But the wave kept pushing it further and further away. Before long, the creature had disappeared from sight.
Sharjam wondered where that wave had come from. He didn’t have to wait long. A bright white light appeared to the right, coming closer and eventually stopping in front of the Aftarans. Carrying the light was an underwater vehicle, cubic in shape, roughly 15 feet in length, width and height. A number of jagged spikes were sticking out from the top.
A mechanical arm with a small platform at the end extended outwards from the front of the vehicle. The platform stopped right below the Aftarans, allowing them to stand on it. A railing then extended up from the bottom, enclosing them and making sure they wouldn’t fall off the platform. With that, the vehicle began moving again, carrying its passengers in front.
Unable to communicate underwater, Sharjam looked at his brother in bewilderment. He wondered who was driving this vehicle that had saved their lives, and where they were being taken. It just kept moving silently, heading downwards into the dark depths of the ocean.
Chapter 16
The three Kril-4 battlecruisers reached the consar entry point within 2 hours. The view outside was quite bare in this part of space, especially compared to the heavy traffic around Lind. There were no other ships about, or any planets, moons or space stations nearby. The only things visible to the naked eye were the usual stars glittering in the distance.
The ships had slowed down to well below the speed of light. On the deck, there were several Mendoken next to Sibular, all busily operating the consar instruments.
“Here we go,” Sibular announced, pressing an icon on one of the 3D screens in the air.
Marc gazed at the lower section of the ship, jutting out for miles below the upper section that he was on. The surface lit up in brilliant white, and ahead in space a wide, blue circle began forming. The blue circle grew in thickness into a sphere, quickly encompassing the whole ship. A similar blue sphere was forming around each of the other two ships as well. Soon all three ships were completely covered by the spheres.
“It’s working, right?” Marc asked nervously.
“So far,” Sibular replied. “Hold on to your seat, as you may feel the pull of gravity during entry. It will be stronger than
the ship’s anti-gravity stabilizers.” As he finished speaking, he dropped from his regular floating stance to the floor. All the other Mendoken on the deck dropped to the floor as well.
Marc squinted to see past the transparent lining of the sphere. It looked like a vortex was forming in the distance, a tunnel into a different dimension. The tunnel entrance grew rapidly in size, soon becoming larger than the sphere. It looked like a monstrous whirlpool of different colors flowing into the center.
“What have I done?” he thought, his eyes filled with fear as he looked at the gaping mouth ahead.
But it was too late for regrets. Suddenly the sphere lunged forward, carrying the ship and all its occupants with it into the tunnel entrance. Marc was pushed into his seat with tremendous force, as if a huge rock had just landed on him. He could barely keep his eyes open, thinking he was going to pass out at any second. All the Mendoken on the deck were somehow still standing upright, fastened by some invisible, magnetic-like force to the floor.
Into the consar tunnel they went. Once they were inside, the gravitational pull reduced considerably, allowing Marc to relax a little and look around. The walls of the tunnel were filled with random outlines of different colors, constantly changing shape and size. The space within was filled with bands of thin matter that seemed to drift right through the sphere and through the interior of the ship. Fortunately they did not appear to cause any damage to the ship or its inhabitants.
“Is the ship holding?” Marc asked.
“Yes, everything appears normal,” Sibular said, closely monitoring the screens in front of him. “We are on course, with another 53 minutes to go through the consar.”
“And the other ships?”
“They are right behind us. No issues so far.”
“Where exactly are we going to exit?”
Sibular opened a map on one of the 3D screens, displaying a zoomed-in section of the Volonan Empire. A vortex in the center of the map indicated the exit point of the consar. “Right near the edge of the Volo-Gaviera system, which contains several highly populated planets. The Volonans guard it quite heavily, as it houses a planet that is one of the main sources of purania.”
“Of what?”
“Purania. One of the densest materials in the entire galaxy. It is the prime substance they use to generate and maintain their virtual worlds. The technology they have developed around it really is unique and interesting.”
“Ah! So it must be highly precious for them.”
“That is why the target was chosen.”
A short period of silence followed, during which Marc thought more about the enemy they were about to face. “What do you think will happen if we are captured?” he finally asked.
“The chances of that happening are very slim,” Sibular said frankly. “If our mission really does fail, the likelihood of us being destroyed is much higher. The Volona are not known for taking prisoners, Marc. They are highly protective of their virtual worlds, and do not like to share them with anybody.”
“How did they become like this? Why do they prefer to live in dreams that aren’t true?”
“We do not really know. They surely have a long history, just like we do. But by the time we made initial contact with them, they were already a completely virtual society. Our theory is that it is a result of one or more catastrophes inflicted upon them, either by themselves, by outsiders or by natural forces. Their efforts to live in reality may have ended up in pain and suffering, which eventually caused them to retreat into virtual worlds where they could live their lives in peace.
“But peaceful as a species they are not. Although we do not know how they treat each other, we do know that they have no ethical rules when dealing with other species. They trust nobody, and always see the worst intentions in any move we or any other species make. They continuously accuse us of wanting to take over their virtual worlds, a completely false claim.
“Their distrust of others has made them highly belligerent. In reality, they are the ones never to be trusted. So many treaties with us they have broken, so many times they have invaded our space. So many lives lost on both sides over the years, just because of their senseless paranoia.”
Marc listened carefully to everything Sibular was saying. As interesting as the concept of virtual worlds was, the more he learned about the Volona, the more he hoped he would never have to meet any of them in person.
“How do they operate as a society if they always live in virtual worlds?” he wondered aloud. “Who mans their ships? Who protects their borders?”
“As far as we know, they run their society from within their virtual worlds. A Volonan ship, for example, will have a crew. But each individual in the crew lives in his or her own virtual world. The captain may be in a completely different place, living a completely different virtual life than the first officer, even though they are both physically on the same ship.”
Marc was confused. “But how can they possibly run the ship like that? How can they make any decisions based on, well, anything?”
“That is the most interesting thing about their virtual technology. Most individuals do have a real role or job, but each individual can choose to live whatever virtual life he or she wants. Every action that individual takes, every decision he or she makes, is automatically translated from his or her virtual world to reality. Similarly, anything that happens to that individual in reality is translated back to some event in that individual’s virtual world.
“Take the example of the captain. Her ship is under attack by an enemy vessel, and she gives the order to strike back. In her virtual world, she may be living in a tropical paradise, where she owns and manages a hotel. The attack will be translated to an event in her virtual world, such as a competing hotel that has begun construction nearby. Her order to strike back, therefore, will be based on a decision she takes in her virtual world.”
“Such as improving the quality of her own hotel, or increasing the marketing budget? Or perhaps something more mischievous, such as a buyout of the construction company to halt construction of the other hotel?”
“Yes, something like that. Perhaps even a step further, depending on her personality. She might choose to sabotage the foundations of the new building, for example.”
“And the captain’s first officer will likely be her assistant manager at the hotel in her virtual world, right? Even though the first officer himself may be living in a completely different virtual world of his own?”
“Correct.”
“How can they possibly automate all those translations and keep track of everything? That would have to be some amazing technology!”
“From what we know, it is,” Sibular said. “But no technology is perfect. Anomalies in these translations may have contributed to many of the misunderstandings we have had with the Volona.” With that, he shifted his attention back to the consar monitoring instruments.
The tunnel outside appeared to grow darker, and the peculiar bands of matter everywhere grew thicker and more numerous. But the spheres containing the ships remained intact, gliding down the passage as sure-footedly as if they did this everyday.
The time seemed to pass slowly. Marc kept looking at his watch every minute. 37 minutes had passed since entry, then 38, then 39, then at last 40. 17 minutes to go! Around him, all the Mendoken were standing still, their bodies planted firmly on the floor. Some were monitoring the ship’s functions and making sure everything was running smoothly, but nobody was floating around.
The tunnel’s walls slowly began lighting up again in a mix of different colors, and the bands of matter thinned out. Right on the 57th minute, the spheres exited the consar and decelerated. The tunnel exit, an exact mirror image of the entrance, quickly disappeared as the spheres faded away, leaving the ships to fend for themselves back in regular space.
It had worked flawlessly. They had just traveled over 80,000 light years in less than an hour! Marc smiled, recalling how he had directly contributed to the success of
this pioneering consar voyage.
The smile didn’t last very long, however, for he remembered that they were now in the middle of hostile enemy territory. He looked around to see if he could spot anything. Billions of stars were twinkling in the distance. One of the stars above appeared much bigger and closer than the others, glowing brilliantly in the sky. Volo-Gaviera, no doubt. To the left, he could see a large planet. It was uniformly orange in color, like a painted sphere. A thick, gray cloud of dust could be seen to the right.
None of this indicated anything unusual or worrisome. But the barrier blocking the path ahead was a different story altogether, a barrier made entirely of ships. Spread apart in a grid-like pattern, they were covering a seemingly unending sheet of space. No matter how high up or to the sides he looked, there were just more ships. They all appeared identical, similar to the ones that had destroyed the planet Kerding. Most of them were bright red in color, but others were blue, green or yellow. Volonans clearly had a preference for bright colors.
After seeing the barrier, Marc no longer felt smug about the awesome power of the Kril-4 battlecruiser he was on. The Mendoken, however, seemed far from concerned, as the battlecruiser was heading straight towards the gigantic fleet of enemy ships.
“Um, Sibular, is this really a good idea?” he asked.
“They are not expecting us,” Sibular said. “The ships in the barrier are actually facing the other way, blocking access to the orange planet.” He was floating now, monitoring the screens and making adjustments. All other Mendoken were also floating about again, busily preparing for the attack. Commander Tulla was on the level above, giving out final orders.
“So we are actually inside the confines of the barrier?” Marc asked.
