by S. W. Ahmed
“Hey, Sibular!” Marc called, waving as he walked straight up to him.
Sibular stopped presenting and looked at Marc.
“Hey, it’s me, Marc, remember me?”
Sibular made some humming sounds in response.
Marc put his hand in his pocket, and out came the Mendoken translator device. Zorina had shown him how to carry an object from the real world into the virtual realm, just by holding the object and focusing his thoughts on it.
He switched the device on. “Can you understand me now?”
“Yes, who are you?” Sibular said in his usual monotone, robot-like voice. “I am in the middle of an important presentation.”
“I am Marc Zemin, from the planet Earth,” Marc said. “Don’t you remember me?”
“Should I?”
“Yes! This place, all these Mendoken, none of this is real! You’re actually a prisoner of the Volona, stuck in your own virtual world. And you need to get out, as soon as possible!”
Sibular’s face was expressionless, in typical Mendoken style. “How can that be?”
Marc felt the drowsiness hitting him again, so he slapped himself a couple of times to snap out of it. “Don’t you remember? I helped you figure out how to travel through consars! We were on a ship that went through a consar into Volonan territory. We attacked the Volo-Gaviera system, but we couldn’t get out again and our ship was destroyed. Then you and I ended up as Volonan prisoners. I managed to get out of my virtual world, but you’re still stuck in yours.”
Sibular was quiet for a few seconds, and then said, “I do not know what you are talking about. I discovered consar travel by myself.” Then he turned to continue presenting to the Imgoerin and the rest of the Mendoken crowd.
Marc felt distressed. He knew he was running out of time. “Listen to me!” he shouted. “We have got to get out of this prison!”
Sibular broke off his presentation again. “Why do you call this a prison?”
“Look around you!” Marc pleaded, pointing at the Imgoerin and his aides, as well as all the other Mendoken in the spectator rows. “Do you see any of them moving or reacting to my intrusion? They’re all just standing there and listening, as if your presentation is continuing undisturbed. Is this normal? Would this really happen in real life?”
Sibular looked around. “No, that is strange,” he admitted.
“I’m telling you! They’re not real! And what about these instruments?” He pointed to some of his own lab apparatus. “Do these look like Mendoken creations to you?”
Sibular floated over and took a closer look at the equipment. There was an obvious contrast between the small, cylindrical and transparent Mendoken devices, and the much bulkier and more primitive looking human lab instruments with LED lights blinking on their surfaces.
“These are not your creations,” Marc said. “They are human devices! From my lab, on Earth! Don’t you remember?”
Sibular was quiet again. He floated around the arena for a while, and eventually returned to where Marc was standing. “You fainted,” he said.
Marc scowled. “I beg your pardon?”
“You fainted, on the moon Ailen. In front of Osalya.” Sibular pointed at the virtual Osalya, standing no more than 40 feet away. “You were asleep for 7.6 Earth hours.”
“Why yes, you’re right! So you remember!”
“Earth – third planet of Mendo-Biesel, enshrouded by a silupsal filter that is monitored by station Selcher-44328.”
Marc was ready to jump with joy, but he felt his strength draining away. The repeated attacks of drowsiness were intensifying. The Volonan authorities had undoubtedly discovered him in the Grid by now, and were trying hard to lure him into a virtual trap.
“The attack – our ship – it exploded,” Sibular said. “How did we survive and end up here?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll explain it to you. But first, we need to get out of here, and quickly!”
“How?”
“Leave that to me. Just follow my instructions to the letter.”
Chapter 23
Marc and Sibular rushed to get out of the Grid. Marc was feeling fainter by the second, as the attempts by the Volonan authorities to lock him in the Grid intensified. But Sibular, now convinced that Marc had spoken the truth, kept pushing him to lead the way out.
Per Zorina’s instructions, they were to make their way to the nearest mirror. Mirrors, as she had told Marc, were the gateways from the virtual realm to reality. The only problem was that the Mendoken never used mirrors, so there were none in Sibular’s virtual world. After some thought, Marc decided on the next best thing, something there was no lack of in Mendoken worlds – water. The many artificial lakes spread across all Mendoken cities were always filled with absolutely still, purified water, providing highly reflective surfaces that almost looked like mirrors.
Sibular pointed out that there happened to be just such an artificial lake right outside the hall. They hurried out to it and, after staring at their own reflections and focusing their thoughts on the transition, took their chances and jumped into the water.
The water felt quite warm and comfortable, which was not at all what Marc had been hoping for. He wanted it to be freezing cold and heavy, just like the way it had felt during his previous transitions between the virtual and real worlds. As Zorina had explained to him, this icy, heavy liquid was a very special substance. It automatically appeared during a transition, and its purpose was to desensitize the body from the shock it experienced as it went from one realm to the other.
Fortunately, the temperature of the water dropped dramatically as they sank further into the lake, and the water became heavy. It was working! The freezing liquid seeped into Marc’s head and into the rest of his body, cooling down all his vital organs. Then it drained away again, out through his legs and feet.
Once the liquid was gone, he opened his eyes and found himself back on the base of the large monument, exactly at the same spot he had departed from. The searing heat and humidity hit his face instantly, as did the stench. Feeling dazed, he got up and noticed that Sibular was already standing.
“This is a most disgusting place,” Sibular observed. “Where are we?”
Marc couldn’t help smiling in agreement. “Welcome to Nopelio, the fourth planet in the Volo-Gaviera system. This is the city of Krasia.”
Sibular surveyed the ruins around him. “This is a city?”
“I had the same reaction when I first saw it.” Marc proceeded to explain why the Volona lived this way in real life.
Sibular appeared to notice the dead Mendoken bodies for the first time. “They were on our ships. Why are they all dead? Did the Volona kill them?” His voice was calm and robotic, as always.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Why? Is that individual responsible?” Sibular pointed to Zorina, who was lying on the ground several feet away, snoring loudly through her trunk.
“No! She had nothing to do with it.”
“Is she… a Volonan?”
“Yes, that’s what they look like in real life.” Marc told Sibular who Zorina was, how he had met her, and how she wanted to get off this planet as much as they did.
“So this is Zorina herself?”
“Yes! Have you heard of her before?”
“But of course. She is well known among the Mendoken. She is primarily responsible for the Volonan Empire’s impenetrable borders. A brilliant engineer, from what I know, and a ruthless tyrant like most Volonans.”
Marc scowled. “I don’t believe she’s a ruthless tyrant at all. She saved my life!”
“The Volona are masters of deception, Marc,” Sibular said. “You should never trust them. Look at how they killed all these Mendoken.”
“This was horrible, no doubt. But don’t forget, we were all captured by the Volona as we tried to attack them. They had no reason to show us any mercy. And in any case, this wasn’t Zorina’s doing.”
Marc went on to explain his whole unde
rstanding of the situation to Sibular, including how they had survived the attack on their ships and how they had ended up on this planet.
“It cannot be,” Sibular said after Marc had finished. “It is impossible.”
“You had better believe it! How else can you explain that we are the only ones still alive, and why in both our virtual worlds we were pursuing consar travel as the ultimate crowning achievement of our careers? That has to be what the Volonan authorities were after.”
“It could also be because they wanted to find out how we discovered consar travel capability.”
“Why would that be so important? If they already had the technology themselves, why would they go through all this trouble just to find out how we got it?”
“Perhaps it is all a trick,” Sibular suggested. “They might just want us to believe that they do not have consar capability, so that we return to the Republic and report that they do not have it.”
Marc shrugged. “For what purpose? The Mendoken government clearly wouldn’t stop the entire war based on one such report. What would such an elaborate hoax accomplish?”
“I do not know.”
“I’m telling you, Sibular, there’s something very strange going on here. Your people are saying one thing, while the Volona are saying the exact opposite. Their behavior also seems to indicate that they aren’t lying. We may have viewed our strike as a retaliation against their consar attacks, but they appear to have viewed it as a completely unprovoked strike against them deep inside their own territory. None of this makes any sense! Who is telling the truth, and who is pulling wool over our eyes?”
“What is the purpose of putting wool on one’s eyes?”
Marc groaned. “Never mind! Do you see my point?”
“Yes, but it will take a lot more than your experiences here to help me overcome centuries of distrust and enmity between my people and the Volona.”
“Well, I think this distrust is exactly what has been fueling the fire. The war continues because neither side believes what the other is officially claiming. And nobody is interested in negotiation, it seems.”
“The hostility and distrust run far too deep, Marc,” Sibular said. “The days of negotiation ended a long time ago.”
In the silence that followed, Zorina stirred awake, letting out a high-pitched yawn. She rubbed her eyes and stared at both of them. Bobbing her head up and down in content, she said, “So you made it back, in one piece!”
“Two pieces, to be precise,” Marc said, grinning. “Zorina, I’d like you to meet Sibular. Sibular, this is Zorina.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Zorina said, reaching up to touch Sibular’s forehead with her hand. “I want you to know that I had nothing to do with the killings that took place here, nor do I in any way condone them.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that, Zorina,” Sibular replied.
“Okay!” Marc said after a short, awkward silence. “Now that we’re all here and the formalities are over with, let’s figure out a way to get out of this God-forsaken place!”
Still on top of the base of the monument, the trio spent close to an hour deliberating what to do next and how to do it. It wasn’t a very constructive or pleasant conversation, however, mainly due to the constant tension between Sibular and Zorina. The two kept getting into arguments, especially because of Sibular’s polite but stubborn refusal to believe anything Zorina was saying, in addition to Zorina constantly raising her voice and accusing the Mendoken of being the aggressors in the current war.
After a while, the lack of progress was starting to get on Marc’s nerves. “Now both of you listen to me!” he shouted. “Those drones will be back any minute now. And while you two continue your inconsequential bickering, they’ll keep coming back until they succeed in killing the three of us. Meanwhile, the war is escalating, with both sides accusing each other of the exact same thing. Call me crazy, but something doesn’t add up here – either one side is lying, or perhaps both. Either way, if we don’t get out there and somehow stop this madness, there soon won’t be a MendokenRepublic or Volonan Empire left worth bickering about!”
Both of Marc’s companions were instantly quiet, seemingly taken aback by his sudden outburst. But before either of them had any chance to respond, the all too familiar sound of drones filled the air.
“You see what I mean?” Marc pointed out.
“Stay absolutely still, both of you,” Zorina whispered. “Don’t even make the slightest sound, Sibular. The drones only react to sudden movements.”
The three drones, now visible below the thick clouds in the gray sky, approached at high speed. Marc could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. Just like the last time he had seen the drones, his mind fought hard against the urge to run away. Standing absolutely still, he only allowed his eyes to move as they followed the motion of the drones.
The drones circled around the monument several times, evidently sensing the presence of something suspicious. They slowed down and descended, exploring every inch of the gigantic structure. Their sensors, sending out wide rays of red light, crossed over the trio’s motionless bodies several times. But, finding nothing worth firing at, they gave up after a while and flew off again.
Marc heaved a sigh of relief. Once the drones were out of sight, he said softly, “So, my friends, can we please agree that we’ll work together to leave this planet?”
“Yes, Marc,” Sibular said.
“You have my word,” Zorina said, flapping her ears.
They began deliberating again, but this time much more constructively. Zorina told Marc and Sibular about her failed attempts in the past to get off the planet. There was a big scrapyard several miles away, she explained, where parts of old Volonan ships lay scattered among many other kinds of junk. She had tried several times to assemble a simple ship there with some of those parts, but had not been successful due to her lack of expertise in ship design. The constant attacks by drones hadn’t been much help either, always preventing her from making any reasonable progress.
“Perhaps you’ll have better luck, Sibular?” she said, eyeing him with a look of anticipation.
“I can take a look, but I have to admit my knowledge of Volonan ship technology is quite limited,” Sibular replied.
Zorina bobbed her head up and down with delight. “Oh, I hate to admit it, but our ships are not nearly as sophisticated as yours. Our advancement efforts are always focused on enhancing the Grid and defending our borders, not on traveling through space. So you should be able to figure it out with ease.”
They trudged over the rough terrain, Zorina leading the way, followed by Sibular, and Marc taking up the rear. Zorina, as sure footed as ever with her strong hind legs and long arms, had no problem prancing from rock to rock. Sibular had an even easier time, floating smoothly through the air above the ground. The story was very different for Marc, who kept tripping and falling, with the hot, steamy weather just wearing him out. He was having a very hard time keeping up with the other two, so much so that he frequently had to call out for them to slow down.
After several such calls, Zorina began to express her annoyance. “We’ll never get there at this rate,” she grumbled. “Humans may be smart, but they certainly aren’t very fast.”
Sibular noticed how far behind Marc was, and stopped. “Zorina, keep going, we will catch up.”
Zorina flapped her ears, and strutted on without looking back.
Sibular waited for Marc to reach him. “Perhaps you should hold onto me.”
“What, really? How?” Panting with exhaustion, Marc was only too happy to accept the offer.
Sibular lowered himself to the ground and helped Marc climb onto him in a piggyback fashion. The extra weight, as soon became clear, would be no issue for his strong mechanized limbs and solid body armor. Cautioning Marc to hold on tight, he lifted from the ground and sped off.
Marc gasped in surprise, tightening his grip around Sibular’s shoulders. Sibular was accelerating fast, very
fast. Before long, they were racing through the air at high speed. The ground below turned into nothing more than a blur.
“Holy smokes!” Marc shouted above the roaring wind. “How can you possibly go so fast?”
“Our armor shells have small engines built into them,” Sibular replied. “They can come in handy sometimes.”
In less than half a minute, they had caught up with Zorina. She watched with astonishment as they zoomed past her.
Marc laughed when he saw the expression on Zorina’s face. “Okay, we’d better slow down now!” he said to Sibular.
Sibular decelerated, came to a stop and allowed Marc to get off his back.
Zorina joined them shortly, and eyed Marc’s wide grin with disdain. “No need to rub it in!” she muttered, and then looked at Sibular. “What in the Grid’s name do you have inside you, my man?”
“Just a small engine,” Marc said, before Sibular could open his mouth. “They do come in handy sometimes, you know?”
They had reached their destination, at the edge of what looked like a wide canyon. The other side was at least a mile away, perhaps more. The entire floor of the canyon below was covered with all kinds of junk. It was indeed one big scrapyard, just as Zorina had described.
As Marc surveyed the landscape, he began losing hope. “How are we ever going to build anything from this huge pile of garbage?”
“Hey, don’t lose faith before we’ve even started!” Zorina said in a reprimanding tone. “There are a lot of useful spare parts down there, believe it or not.” She turned to Sibular. “What do you think, my man?”
Sibular, who was intently observing all the different pieces of junk in the canyon with his magnifying vision capability, said, “Yes, I believe it is possible to build a ship from the materials present. But it will take time.”
