by S. W. Ahmed
“Yes,” Sibular replied.
Smart, and sneaky! The Mendoken were about to give the Volona a taste of their own medicine of deception. As long as it worked, Marc thought. But how long before they were detected?
Not too long, it turned out. Some of the ships in the barrier began turning around.
“Hold on to your seat, Marc,” Sibular said. “The attack begins.”
The three Mendoken ships were advancing together now. Just as the first Volonan ships finished turning, the Mendoken ships fired. Thousands of torpedoes were released from the lower hull of each ship, each one making for a different Volonan ship. Like shooting stars, they raced through the sky towards their targets. Made with the same kilasic technology that made space travel possible, the damage they could inflict was enormous.
Within a few seconds, the torpedoes hit the Volonan ships. Like Sibular had said, the Volonans were not prepared for an attack from within the barrier. The barrier evidently had no inward facing shield, only one facing the outside. Entire sections of some of the Volonan ships blew up, showering the sky with dazzling explosions. Several other ships blew up completely, sending specks of dust flying every which way.
Volonan ships that had not been hit began firing back. Instead of sending torpedoes, they shot laser-like streaks of light that hit the Mendoken ships almost instantly.
The ship Marc was on shook violently with each impact, but there didn’t appear to be any damage.
“Our shields are holding,” Sibular said calmly.
Relief! But only for the moment. The next phase of the battle was about to begin. Some of the Volonan ships in the grid were now moving, heading straight for the Mendoken ships. As they did so, they began releasing hundreds of smaller vessels from their hulls. The sky ahead looked like a big swarm of bees, about to take the invaders by storm.
But the Mendoken were prepared for this onslaught. Large gates opened up in the lower section of each of the three battlecruisers, releasing fighters, scout ships, heavy bombers and many other types of attack craft. They all accelerated rapidly, some of them heading straight for the approaching swarm of enemy fighters. Others flanked outwards, following a semi-circular route that would allow them to strike the enemy from the sides.
The two armies of smaller ships clashed with full force, engaging in a vicious battle that Marc could clearly observe from the deck. Uncountable flashes of light appeared all over, each one the result of an explosion. Shots were being fired everywhere, with some fighters chasing others in formations of three or more, while others were flying toward each other on collision courses. The heavier Mendoken bombers were shooting down several small Volonan fighters at a time, while other Volonan vessels that looked like long tubes were destroying everything in their vicinity using some kind of shock wave.
“You should stay seated, Marc,” Sibular said from a distance.
Marc looked down and noticed that he was standing. In awe of the ongoing battle outside, he had risen and moved closer to the edge of the deck without even realizing it.
“Come back and sit down,” Sibular called, still standing at his station. “Things will get a little bumpy here shortly.”
Marc hurried back and sat down, knowing not to doubt Sibular’s words. A belt immediately slithered out from the side of the seat and secured him in place.
And none too soon, it turned out. Suddenly the ship swerved sharply to the right, crushing him to the left side of the seat. Then it swerved downwards, before abruptly rising up again. These swerves continued, one after the other.
Between his gasps and a rising wave of nausea, he looked out and saw the cause. There were two large Volonan warships approaching at high speed behind them, and another one was closing in from above. The one coming from above looked the scariest, as if it was going to crash through the transparent ceiling of the deck at any second. More and more warships were dislodging from the barrier and approaching from the front, firing a barrage of laser-like shots at the three Mendoken ships.
There was also something else the Volonan ships were trying to do. They were splitting up into groups of three, each group trying to form a perfect triangle. Then Marc remembered what had happened at Mendo-Bursal. The Volona’s deadliest weapon, unleashed only when three of their warships formed a perfect triangle, was about to be launched against them. And that was why the Mendoken ships were swerving so much, trying to evade that target lock. But with so many more Volonan ships approaching, this evasion procedure was going to get progressively more difficult.
Several groups of Volonan warships were soon within firing range of the Mendoken battlecruisers, all of them in perfect triangular configuration. They would fire their powerful weapon at any moment now, the same weapon that could destroy an entire planet. And yet, all the Mendoken on the deck seemed as calm as ever, going about their regular tasks. His fear growing by the second, Marc wondered how they could possibly be so unconcerned when imminent death was staring them in the face.
But imminent death was not in their plan. Before the Volonans could fire the weapon, something happened. What that something was, Marc didn’t understand at first. But eventually he saw the change. Everything outside was suddenly growing rapidly in size – the approaching Volonan ships, the other ships in the distance, even the nearby dust cloud and orange planet. The only things outside that weren’t growing were the other two Mendoken ships.
He couldn’t believe it. There had to be only one logical explanation. “Sibular! Are we… shrinking?”
“Yes,” Sibular said. “This is a technology we recently developed.”
“Wow! How much are we shrinking?”
“To 1 millionth of our original size.”
Marc whistled in amazement. He didn’t feel a thing different about himself – all proportions within the ship were the same. But outside, everything else just looked massive. “We, uh, can grow back, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Sibular replied. “In fact, we cannot stay at this size for more than 18 minutes. The technology still needs to be perfected.”
The three miniaturized Mendoken battlecruisers began moving, right past the giant Volonan warships that were now firing blindly in different directions. The Volonans were either completely baffled as to where the Mendoken ships had disappeared to, or had spotted them and were trying to figure out how to reconfigure their weapons systems for such small targets.
The Mendoken ships accelerated, heading straight for the heart of the combat zone where all their fighter and bomber vessels were still in the midst of a raging battle with their Volonan counterparts. As the ships drew nearer, all the Mendoken fighter and bomber vessels began shrinking, right down to a millionth of their original sizes. The enemy vessels reacted in total confusion, firing blindly like their mother ships.
Once all the smaller vessels had finished shrinking, the Mendoken mother ships flew through the combat zone and swept them all up through the front gates. Then, closing the gates, they headed for open space.
The clock was ticking, and there were only a few minutes left before the shrinking effect would come to an end. The Mendoken ships accelerated quickly. The Volonans still hadn’t been able to locate them, it seemed, as they weren’t following.
“How many… did we lose?” Marc asked Sibular, who was busily setting up for the consar opening ahead.
“We lost 112 vessels and 6092 lives. But we also destroyed 473 of their vessels, and more importantly, 83 of their large ships.”
Right on the 18th minute, the Mendoken ships grew back to their original size. Everything outside began looking normal again. The ships slowed down, getting ready to open the consar in front of them.
Marc looked outside towards the rear. The Volonan warships had wasted no time in locating them, and were already in hot pursuit. Things were going to get very tight.
Sibular hit the last control, and almost immediately, the familiar blue circles began forming ahead – three circles in all, one for each ship. The circles began t
hickening into spheres, engulfing each ship. Everything was going as expected.
Or was it? No escape tunnel seemed to be forming ahead.
“Sibular, the consar?” Marc said, starting to get very worried.
Sibular didn’t respond. He was too busy peering at the data on the different screens. Several other Mendoken arrived around his station to help him.
The Volonan ships were coming ever closer, soon to reach firing range. There had to be a hundred of them at least, breaking up into the feared triangular formations. The three Mendoken ships were hopelessly outnumbered.
“Sibular, what’s going on?” Marc asked again, raising his voice in alarm. “Can I help?”
“There appears to be a problem with the vortex creation,” Sibular replied quickly, before returning to some complex calculations he was performing on the screens.
More Mendoken began arriving at the station, including Commander Tulla. They were all silently communicating with each other, none of them paying any attention to Marc. A buzzing siren began wailing loudly through the ship, the same kind of emergency siren he had heard once before at Mendo-Bursal.
Marc swallowed hard. He knew there was no time left for evasive action, no time left for miniaturization or any other maneuver. The nearest triangle of Volonan ships was about to fire.
And fire they did. Three laser-like rays, one from each ship, shot out and converged on one point. At the point of convergence, a hollow bubble came into formation. The bubble grew quickly, approaching the Mendoken ships at high speed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Marc noticed how all the Mendoken on the deck had stopped what they were doing and were just staring at the advancing bubble.
Time slowed down for him during these last few seconds of anticipation. He thought he saw his whole life flashing in front of him, but he wasn’t sure. Too many memories, too many muddled emotions, too many failures. Through it all, he thought he vaguely heard Sibular say, “I am sorry, Marc.”
Then the bubble hit the ships. Its transparent wall passed effortlessly through the ships and through the deck that he was on, engulfing everything and everyone within a few seconds. He felt no change as he passed into the bubble, and for a moment he thought he was safe. For that brief moment, he thought and hoped it might all be a prank or a false alarm.
But then came the massive explosion, cracking the ship into a thousand pieces, sending the debris off in all directions into space. Everything was suddenly afire. He could see Mendoken burning everywhere, being flung into space with all the stations, controls and other equipment on the deck. He felt himself being pushed up with tremendous thrust, as the deck around him shattered completely under an engulfing ball of fire. A sharp, unbearable pain tore through his body. And then, all was dark and quiet.
Chapter 17
The underwater vehicle kept on moving for a while, carrying Dumyan and Sharjam with it. It was pitch dark outside, and Sharjam couldn’t see a thing, not until a group of lights suddenly appeared further below. Spread far and wide, the lights seemed to belong to a whole city.
Sharjam was stunned. He had read about the existence of intelligent species underwater on some planets, but he had never expected any on Droila. According to the Ofwariyah, the official Aftaran chronicles of the Dominion, the planet Droila was unsettled by any intelligent species. Whatever species this was, the general Aftaran population had no knowledge of it.
As the vehicle descended towards the city, he could begin to see the cubic shape of its buildings. There were streets between the buildings, on which other, similar looking vehicles were moving. Amazingly, the city was not located on the ocean floor, but was somehow magically suspended in the water. The streets were actually nothing more than bottomless waterways.
As their vehicle docked in front of one of the buildings, Sharjam caught his first glimpse of the marine creatures living in the city. Several of them were swimming out of the building to greet him and Dumyan. The creature that had been driving the vehicle got out and swam forward as well. They all looked very similar, with heads and faces that resembled those of dolphins, except that their eyes were much bigger and their snouts shorter. Their bodies were also similar in shape to dolphins, although their flippers were disproportionately long and had fingers at the ends. Gill-like slits behind the eyes indicated that, unlike dolphins, they could respire underwater.
The creatures led the Aftarans inside the building, taking them through a corridor and ushering them into what looked like a small, dimly-lit room. Before any of the creatures followed them inside, a sliding door abruptly shut behind them. Then the creatures began crowding around outside, staring at the newcomers through a window on the wall.
Sharjam couldn’t make head or tail of what was going on. These creatures did seem friendly and non-threatening, but why had they trapped him and his brother in this room? He knew all too well that the air supply inside their robes wouldn’t last forever.
But much to his pleasant surprise, the water in the room suddenly began draining out through a hole in the floor. Filling its place was air, flowing in through another hole in the ceiling. The water level dropped swiftly, soon allowing both of them to begin breathing the air through their noses. It smelled a little stale and was very cold, but it was air nonetheless.
Sharjam uttered a prayer of relief and gratitude. Fortunately these marine creatures seemed prepared to deal with air-breathing visitors. Both he and Dumyan kept their faces covered, as was Aftaran custom in front of strangers.
Once the water had completely disappeared from the room, one of the creatures outside came close to the window and bowed its head before the Aftarans. All the other creatures behind bowed their heads at the same time. The creature in front then began moving its mouth. Instantly, a high-pitched, childlike but distinctly feminine voice could be heard inside the room through a crackling speaker on the wall.
“Welcome, Lords who are so beloved,” the voice said in Mareefi. “A tremendous honor bestowed upon us it is with your visit to our humble dwellings.”
Sharjam was astonished. “They speak Mareefi!” he whispered to Dumyan.
Dumyan held up his hand, motioning to Sharjam to be quiet. “Thank you,” he said aloud to the creature outside. “It is always a pleasure to see your kind.”
“What are you doing?” Sharjam whispered again to his brother.
“Will you shut up?” Dumyan snapped quietly. “I’m playing along, to figure out who they are and who they think we are.”
The creature outside bowed again. She had a small crown on her head, which none of the others seemed to have. “Hoooooeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cooed. “Kah is my name. I am the new humble Chancellor of this modest city of ours.”
“What happened to the previous Chancellor?” Dumyan asked.
“Alas, as you surely know, Shir was martyred while tending to the fields. May you Lords please have mercy on her soul, and we beg you to please grant her a better life in the next emanation.” Kah bowed again, as did all the others behind her.
Dumyan seemed to think for a bit, before opening his mouth again. “You want us to grant Shir mercy, now that she is dead?”
“Hooooeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Kah cooed again, flapping her long flippers together. “We Doolins are your humble servants. You who are our Masters from the sky above. You who sustain the blueness of the water, who give and take life as you please, you who protect us from the darkness and lead us to light. Who but you would have the power to grant us mercy?”
The other Doolins behind all cooed and flapped their flippers in unison.
“What in the Creator’s name is she babbling about?” Dumyan whispered to Sharjam. “She talks as if we’re deities. And have you ever heard of any species called Doolins?”
“Never,” Sharjam said quietly, “but this is blasphemous! We should tell them the truth!”
“You half-wit!” Dumyan whispered angrily. “Do you realize what these creatures will do to us if we tell them we aren’t the gods they’ve prob
ably led their whole lives believing in? We’re completely at their mercy at the moment. We need to figure out what’s going on here.”
“Fine! Since you want to play along, keep playing and dig yourself deeper into your own hole.”
Dumyan seemed to ignore that last comment, and spoke loudly to Kah. “Yes, of course we will grant Shir mercy. Verily she was a good servant.”
Once again, all the Doolins bowed their heads.
“Thank you so much, O Merciful Lords,” Kah said. “My dear Lords, did you not come by fire-chariot this time?”
“Yes,” Dumyan said, “but we left our fire-chariot in the sky above the ocean. We didn’t want to, ah, disturb the living beings of the sea.” He paused, before adding, “We were just about to destroy the monster that was attacking us, when one of you pushed it away. It is indeed better that its life was spared.”
Sharjam chuckled quietly.
“Hooooeeeeee!” Kah cooed. “So thoughtful our Lords are. You must be hungry. Please allow us to offer to you from our most humble means some Fouaa.”
“Yes, of course,” Dumyan said, glancing questioningly at Sharjam.
Sharjam shrugged. He had no idea what Fouaa was. He had never heard of any food with that name.
Kah cooed a command to some other Doolins behind her. They swam away, and returned shortly with a couple of trays that were pushed through a slot in the wall into the air-filled room. The trays were filled with thinly cut slices of raw, fishlike meat.
“We offer the Fouaa to you as a sign of our faith and devotion,” Kah said. “Please enjoy it as you please, and call us for anything you desire anytime. Hooooooeeeeeeeeee!”
With that, Kah bowed and swam away. The other Doolins followed her, leaving the Aftarans alone in their small, airtight chamber.
Sharjam was disgusted. “How could they offer this to us?” he said to Dumyan. “Especially if they worship Aftarans? Surely they would know that we’re all strict vegetarians!”
Dumyan lowered the veil over his face, revealing a pensive look. “It does seem odd. But perhaps it’s all they have to offer. In any case, we must eat. Otherwise, we’ll starve to death.”
